WICKED'S SUMMER FESTIVAL

i could cry bc this is so beautiful and SO accurate

bucky barnes who doesn’t trust unless it comes to you. whose eyes soften at the sight of you, because his heart knows that it’s okay to let his guard down. he believed the world always had its claws out to get him, until he fell straight into your gentle arms. he tells you the word love meant nothing to him until you came along.

bucky barnes who would live for you. the winter soldier would kill for anyone, the white wolf would die for anyone, but bucky would live for you. he’s never believed in fate, but if it wasn't destiny that brought you to him, he doesn’t know what it was. he thinks maybe it was all worth it, the trauma and the scars and the pain, if it all lead up to the moment when you told him i love you.

bucky barnes who searches for you even in nightmares, screams your name till his lungs burn with self-hatred. you’re his safe space, his home. he’s drawn back to wakefulness as soon as he feels your touch, the gentleness of your breath on his skin like an aching balm to his wounds. he’ll never stop apologising for the burden that comes with his affection, yet he won’t ever stop loving you.

bucky barnes who thinks of hurting you as no less than a sin. who believes even pulling out a single strand of your hair is a hundred times worse than every murder committed as the winter soldier. because what’s a few dozen people in comparison to his whole universe?

bucky barnes who wakes up a little earlier in the morning; not to see the sun rise, but to watch the soft rays dapple your face. he thinks you look angelic, the golden hue painting you in so much beauty that he feels blessed; wonders if he oughts to start praying to gods he never once believed in.

bucky barnes who tells you he loves you more times than he can count. whose voice is hardened from years of tortured, ragged cries; but the word doll tumbles out of his lips like soft petals when he looks at you. he knows seven different tongues, and is fluent in every single one. he claims that none of them have the words to describe how you make him feel.

bucky barnes who kisses like a hungry dog, like there’s an ache in his soul that can only be filled by the feeling of your lips on his, skin to skin. he believes the sole purpose of his metal arm is to pin you to the wall. roughness is the only form of love he’s ever known.

bucky barnes who buys you everything you talk about in passing, who takes you out wherever your heart yearns to go, who kisses your knuckles with the softest touch of his lips. he inhales when you exhale at night to make space for the rise of your chest. he only ever holds your hand with his non-metal one so as to not hurt you. he traces your features while you sleep. he loves you with the full force of the word, because you’re his girl.

bucky barnes who could never unlove you, would never want to. even if the strings of his soul were tied to another, he would cut them off and run straight to you.

"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.

I LOVE THE CHARACTERISATION OF PETER!!

scrabble 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary:

 "hmm?“

 "dinner? a massage? free reign over whatever movie we watch tonight?" 

 "are you trying to bribe me?" 

warnings: peter is a cheat, and fluff. 

*

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valkyrie is hot 😍😍

the way you set the scene + the feelings they provoke 🤭🤭

your beauty never ever scared me

ship: vampire!valkyrie x reader

summary/request: a cozy night in with your wife. sequel to your little heart goes pitter-patter

word count: 1k

warnings: smut (18+), vaginal fingering (reader receiving), alcohol consumption, bloodsucking, soft vampire wife

masterlist | monsterfucker celebration 2022 masterlist

The dancing of flames in the fireplace casts shifting shadows throughout the library. They flicker across Valkyrie’s skin, illuminating her face in an orange hue. She notices you staring at her. She always does. 

“I know you can’t take a picture, but my portrait is upstairs,” she grins. “It’ll last longer.”

“What’s the fun in that?" 

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this is so beautiful that i cant even find the words to describe this!! im mesmerised 🫠🫠

@privateanxieties

would you, maybe?

Summary: Peter really, really wants his vampire girlfriend to bite him. He finds out it’s more than just a sex thing.

Pairing: tasm!Peter x vampire!Reader (she/her); 18+ mature, smut, established relationship, possessiveness, dirty talk, blood sharing; there is a kink here but I don’t know what to call it. If anyone knows, please share with the class.

Words: 7.2K

——————————–

He’s tried everything except asking.

The idea got lodged in his head weeks ago, in the most innocent way possible - a hug. She’d just come back from visiting her family overseas and hadn’t fed while there. Her parents weren’t especially fond of her peculiar dietary choices. Namely, they thought drinking from the tap was far superior to the bottled nonsense from which their daughter got sustenance. She didn’t like feeding off of humans, even the willing ones that supplied her relatives with blood in exchange for the pure thrill of it. Some people were freaky, she explained, and they simply enjoyed feeling like they were a part of something special. He bought half the explanation. From the way her eyes were avoiding his, he guessed there must’ve been more to the story. In any case, she’d said she wasn’t fond of drinking straight from the vein and he took her word for it. For that reason, part of him was unsure about what he wanted to ask; but there was another part too - one that had taken in a sight he couldn’t forget.

Upon her return, he’d pulled her into the bone-crushing hug that he’d always craved but could never have, because minding his strength always came first. Vampires, he’d come to learn, were pretty durable. And he was glad that was the case for many reasons, but of course, his mind immediately went to other potential applications of that durability.

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devil!nat goes crazy 😫😋

she’ll want the devil on her team - natasha romanoff

Summary: what’s an angel doing at a nightclub?

Warnings: supernatural beings, bottom!nat, alcohol consumption, oral (r giving), fingering (r giving), mommy kink, strap on use (nat receiving), smut 18+ only

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: and here’s the end of kinktober, it’s not much but it’s honest work. hope you guys enjoyed it <3

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

masterlist | kinktober masterlist

The room spun around you as you walked through the crowded space. Lights flashed all around you and the music was so loud it shook you to your bones. You were tiptoeing on the line between fun and over-stimulation, enjoying the sweet spot between wanting to go home and being too overwhelmed to do anything. You were having fun. 

It was after you lost your friends that you saw her. You’d drifted away from them while you were dancing, getting caught up in the music. There was a light around her, and when you made eye contact, nothing could explain the attraction you felt towards her. Not just to the way she looked, but you felt like there was something pulling you right from your core.

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yes. i AM very much infatuated with him 🤭🤭

some friend you are 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: 

“why did i agree to this?” 

“cause you love me.”

warnings: fluff, pining, yearning, all of that. i thought about adding more but. this is how it’s supposed to be. 

a/n: not a word from any of you (no this is not personal at all no what)

*

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the representation + characterisation of yelena in this fic >>>>

for your blurb night, "in case you ever foolishly forget, i am never not thinking of you" with yelena? 🤍

miss luiza, my love, my fellow yel simp, i hope i did this a justice for you, i changed the dialogue a little bit to make it more fluffy <3

sweet in your memory.

pairing: yelena belova x (f)reader

word count: 986

warnings: badly written fluff, weed smoking, nat is alive and well, mention of a past hookup, kissing, slight miscommunication, carol and valkyrie quickly mentioned. 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

The blissful dazed high of the blunt that's pressed to your lips as you take a long inhale, swallow, let it out slowly—is doing the exact opposite of just that. The bliss part getting snuffed out by the nerves that make your stomach sink each time Yelena looks over at you, gives you that lopsided grin; when your fingers brush against each others for the half second when you’re passing the blunt between the two of you, turning that dazed high into hyperawareness. 

The two of you are sat on the fire escape, the sounds of the city and people venturing out late into the summer heat present below you—and the music and laughs of Nat and the rest of the girls from inside flowing through the window. 

But all you can hear, all you see, smell, feel, is Yelena beside you. The weed only adding to the torture of nerves in your belly and the unasked questions fumbling around in your head. 

Your eyes glance over to her, her perched on the window sill, one leg bent at the knee on the frame, the other on the fire escape. The street lights painting her features in a dull orange that makes her even more beautiful. 

You try not to stare at the way her lips wrap around the blunt, or how attractive it looks held between her ringed fingers. Because when she catches you staring it only makes a heat flood your cheeks and a cheeky smirk form across her face, you quickly look away as you try to hide your smile with a cough to the back of your hand. 

The two of you hadn't spoken about what happened a week ago—it seeming more like months ago by how it had left you feeling; confused, flying high, utterly crushing on the woman beside you. 

It's not like you never had the chance to ask her what everything meant, the glances, the smiles, the hand touches, the pecks to the cheek, in the wake of what had happened. But maybe it was the memory of her lips on yours-and other parts of you—the night that the two of you having spent together living like a ghost on your skin; constantly haunting you, yet you were too afraid to exorcize it, to ask it what it wanted. 

And it wasn't Yelena who was stopping you from asking, it wasn't how she was acting-she hadn't changed, she was still the same, still flirtatious and constantly giving you signs that it had meant something, but what you didn't know. And part of you had hoped maybe she would bring it up, because your nerves were pussing out, and you didn't think you could go another week without knowing, without holding yourself back from reaching out and feeling her lips again.

Without staring at her like a lost love sick puppy. 

You had hoped the weed would have helped give you the courage, but now you know it had only made you more of that love sick puppy for her. A rose colored shein over your eyes each time you would steal a glance at her, smelled her strong perfume, heard her laugh at whatever was going on in the apartment-or from how awkward you were being. 

After taking one more puff of the blunt, handing it to Yelena, holding your breath for a second, a minute, three, you finally think fuck it, and go for it, “Yel,” you start, no hint of bravery in your voice whatsoever. When you turn towards her after her hum of acknowledgment, your mouth feels incredibly dry. Your throat itchy. “About…what happened, the other night.” You swallow, try to ignore the corner of her mouth pulling up slightly, amused. “Do you, uh, ever think about it?” 

And now you know for sure the weed was a bad idea, it turning you into a speechless fool. Asking her the question that wasn't even on the tip of your tongue, your mind and mouth on different wavelengths; but both keening for this woman. 

“Do I think about it?” Her accent is deeper when she's been smoking, when amusement is laced in her tone. Her grin growing, the heat in your cheeks feeling like an all out forest fire. 

Before you can nod, or open your mouth to say something—elaborate, stop looking like a deer in headlights—Nat is poking her head through the window, pushing Yelena’s leg out of the way in the process. 

“If you two love birds are done, the pizza’s here.” She gives Yelena a wink and then she’s back inside the apartment. 

Yelena puts out the remaining of the blunt on the windowsill, throwing it in the can specifically put out there for such discarding's. “We better go before Carol and Val fight over the pepperoni.” She smiles, the awkward conversation between the two of you pushed away—your chest only deflating a little (a lot). 

You expect her to pull herself through the window but instead she’s stepping out onto the fire escape, reaching her hand out for you to take to help you to your feet. The weed finally hitting you with that daze now that you’re standing this close to her, now that her palms are cupping your cheeks, the warm metal of her rings searing your skin, as she presses a soft kiss to your lips. 

Her lips smiling against yours when you let out an elongated sigh, when she pulls away that rose colored haze has gone completely red—with love, with other heated things—making a shy chuckle escape you. 

“For the record, in case you are ever foolishly wondering, or forget, I am never not thinking of you.” She presses another kiss to your lips, “or that night.” Her hands fall from your cheeks, “it’s actually highly annoying how much I think about it. Of you, very distracting.” the both of you laugh, fingers finding the others to hold.

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.

😍😍