The Waiter

does anyone have any marvel fic recommendations that involve the blip/the snap? could be the reader being snapped away or the fictional character from the marvel universe. I have no preference on characters or gender specifics for the reader ( or oc ), I’m just in the mood for some blip angst 🤭

         𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆

summary ─ your father’s best friend, who happens to be your secret boyfriend, knows exactly how to love on you. 

pairing ─ dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, kissing, teasing, pet names, reader is in her late 20s, bucky is in his late 40s, he’s rich as fuck, kitchen sex, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, light breeding kink, wall sex, light choking/breath play, bucky is also a dilf, like he has an ex wife and kids lol

a/n ─ this fic is totally inspired by the latest sebastian pics where he had mid-length hair and beard. he looked rough and such a daddy, i had to write it lmao. my smut skills are waning?? idk i’m not so sure about the ending. i hope you like it <3 please leave a comment if you do! thank youuu <333

The restaurant you were dining in with your parents and their friends was a fancy one. The chandeliers were heavy looking where they were hanging off the ceiling; the light they beamed was a soft, yellow one that didn’t hurt your eyes. General color scheme of the place was muted colors: Beige, black and brown. The people dining here with you were talking quietly to each other, laughing kindly and discussing stuff under their breath, so you could actually hear the soft, classical music playing on the background.

Keep reading

I’m seeing people starting to apologize for falling behind on Kinktober.

This goes for those people, and all other writers out there feeling like they’re falling short of content they promised to deliver:

You owe us nothing.

You heard me.

Yes, even if you said you would have something ready today, tomorrow or next month.

You’re writing in your own time, for free, and only you get to decide if and when you’re ready to share it with us.

We’ll be here to read it and celebrate it with you when the time comes.

Safe With Me

bucky barnes x reader

"Bucky didn't know how to deal with his own demons sometimes, but he was determined to keep you safe from yours."

[3k] | melancholic themes, a bit of angst but quite fluffy by the end, lashing out, a light-hearted argument, depressed reader, concerned bucky, hurt-comfort, platonic idiots, happy ending. beware that this was written right after a mental breakdown and it shows, lol

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

Despite not looking like it, Bucky was far more attentive than one would give him credit for. It's just that everyone around him seemed like they had their shit together- pretty much unlike him, a guy dealing with a continent's worth of trauma and guilt, and within the boundary of the sorrow that comes along with it; he wasn't the one to show his friendlier sides often.

Don't get me wrong, it's not that he didn't care- he did, he cared about everyone's well-being. But he didn't feel like he was strong enough at that moment to actually reach out to anybody if they were to need his help, in personal matters rather than business.

He was doing better though. Steve helped out a lot about that, even though it'd never feel like the way it did in the late 30's, he was still Bucky's guy and they'd be there until the end of the line, no matter what it took. Through Steve, Bucky was able to open up a bit to Sam too, the trio forming a wonderful brotherhood through their shared trauma and tendency to look out for others.

You came around then.

Always so cheery, cracking a joke to anybody who seemed to be on the edge between happiness and something worse- doing your best to keep them at bay. Keep their minds at the moment instead, even if it meant making a complete fool of yourself at times with incredibly shitty jokes that you just came up with on the spot, or a hug, mostly always initiated by you.

Bucky was astonished to see that such people would exist.

People that are naturally just happy, born a goofball, always aiming to make others happy in their own way. Whether it's with a thoughtfully baked batch of cookies for a group returning from a mission, or a Netflix & 'you can cry for as long as you need, i'm here' session; you seemed to always be there. Always be a warm shoulder for anybody to lay their heads on when things got tough.

That's what made you happy.

But would it be enough for a person? Not necessarily. Bucky knew that very well, knew how sometimes, things you did to stay happy would decline in effect, leaving you hopeless as you tirelessly looked for another way to keep your emotions the way they used to be. If you stopped looking, then that's when things would get miserable.

He started noticing it a few weeks before your initial breakdown.

Usually, your smile would linger on your lips after a joke or a thoughtful comment; but it seemed to fall as soon as the words left your lips and the attention was switched to something else. You wouldn't frown, no, but to see such a blank expression on your face that often, honestly worried him.

He didn't think much of it until the day where the Avengers were having some sort of a movie night, where they'd pause the movie every two seconds to fight over something pointless- you were laughing along with everybody. You seemed happy, just content to be there with everyone, their laughs on your mind and your gaze on their smiles.

You got up to get a refill on your beer after a while, the rest of the group deep in a debate about something Bucky couldn't exactly catch up with. He excused himself a couple of minutes after you left, deciding to join you in the kitchen before he could grab some water and go back up to his room.

He found you awfully quiet, hands gripping the sides of the counter as you leaned against it, eyes closed, chest heaving. You seemed pained with the way your brows were knitted, too deep in the ocean of your thoughts to notice that Bucky came after you, and that he was staring right at you. "Are you okay?"

You snapped out of it with a slight flinch, nodding far too fast for his liking. Sniffling a bit and patting the underside of your eyes with the back of your palm, you hummed, offering him a kind smile before taking a step back from the counter. "Sorry. Zoned out."

"Yeah, I could see that." he hummed, the ghost of a smile lingering on his lips as he just kept staring at you, almost as if he wanted you to go on, as if he wanted you to explain why. You didn't, though. You didn't know if you could.

"Um- did you need something?"

"No, not really. I was just here to get some water and, seeing you like that, I just- Everything okay?" his tone was softer than you got used to hearing from him.

"Everything's fine, Bucky. No worries." you replied, walking towards the refrigerator to pull out the water jug. "I think I'm gonna go up to my room for the night. Kinda tired."

"You could join me," he offered right away, cringing a bit when he realized how quickly he said it- as if he came there to say that, to start with. "I mean, I'm probably going to fall asleep to NatGeo but we could talk about lions and stuff before I did."

You chuckled at that, and he internally high-fived himself for the success.

"Would love to. Not tonight, though. I really wanna fall asleep and not to NatGeo, unfortunately."

He nodded, understanding. "Sure. Just pop by if you change your mind."

You nodded slowly before pouring two glasses of water, leaving one for him behind. "Will do, Sarge."

He couldn't help the dread he felt in his chest as he watched you walk away from the kitchen, towards the stairs.

The compound was awfully quiet.

Most were gone on missions, leaving the lucky few behind to enjoy the serenity of having the whole place to themselves. Within the earlier hours of the morning, Wanda took it upon herself to wake the remaining heroes up for a well-deserved breakfast, knowing well that none of them would get mad at her- her cooking was impeccable. Rhodey opted to steal one of the grilled cheese plates and go back to his room, leaving Bucky alone with Wanda as they ate in silence.

They were both surprised to hear the soft patter of your feet against the floor, quite later than they expected you to show up. You weren't the one to be late, not even to casual events.

And they were even more surprised when your usual good morning wish was reduced to a reply of a hum when Wanda said it.

Bucky didn't manage to get a good look at you, feeling a bit too awkward to do so for some reason, but the look in Wanda's eyes as she stared at you caused the same feeling of dread to slowly creep its way back. "Slept well, Y/N?"

You raised your gaze to look at Wanda and offer her a warm smile after her question, shrugging a bit. "Eh, usual. Nothing special with my sleep nowadays." you muttered, finally causing Bucky to look at you.

Your eyes were a bit puffy, and rather red.

Luckily for you, Wanda didn't push it much. She just reached down to place a soft kiss on your cheek when she was done eating, before leaving the kitchen area. You ate quietly, chuckling to yourself at Bucky's slight bed hair before reaching in to fix it a little bit. "Somebody slept well, anyway."

"You know you can talk to me, right?" he spoke right afterwards, catching you a bit off-guard.

"There isn't much to talk about, Bucky," you huffed out a snicker, shrugging a little bit. "But yeah, I know. I appreciate that- and of course, it goes both ways."

"Yeah, I know that."

You seemed to do better by the evening. Vision returned earlier as he was done, stealing Wanda from you a bit- you didn't complain though, as you figured now would be a great time to pick up some work. Burying yourself in your research, you didn't leave Steve's office -which he only let you use, because unlike his wonderful friends, you didn't draw dick figures on his notes- until it was a bit past midnight, a deep yawn cutting you off from work. You grabbed your now-empty mug of coffee and left it by the counter island, making a turn for the stairs before you ran into Bucky- again.

"Oh, hi," you gave him a firm pat on the arm. "Sorry, didn't see you there."

"Have you been working all day?"

"Yeah, figured I should use my pastime effectively," you chuckled to yourself a bit, knowing very well that you wouldn't keep up with this newfound habit.

"Well, in that case, my NatGeo offer still stands for whenever you want to take it." he smiled, before waving you off with a slight chuckle. "At least pretend like you're considering it!"

"I am, I swear!" you laughed along, tilting your head a bit to the side. "Just need to be alone."

Bucky knew the feeling. With a short nod, he took a step forward towards the side, letting you pass through him. "Have a good night in that case."

"Thanks, Bucky." you smiled gratefully, slowly stepping your way up the stairs. "You too."

"Y'all noticed anything weird about Y/N?" Sam broke the silence of the room, causing Steve and Bucky to look up at him from where they were seated playing some game that you taught them. Bucky let out a sigh, deciding to leave no comments as Steve slightly knitted his brows, urging Sam to explain. "She's like, barely around anymore."

"I invited her to play with us and she just said no immediately, said she was off to some pub." Steve added, sighing deeply with the controller tucked tight in his palm. "She didn't like to go alone back then."

Bucky, finally getting back on his feet with a grunt, left the controller by the table and signaled Sam to take his place instead, ignoring their confused eyes. "One way to find out."

Okay, maybe it wasn't that good of an idea to wander around Manhattan in hopes of finding a specific pub that you might've gone to, but he was trying. You didn't pick up the phone; probably had it on silent anyway as he let out a sigh, and finally made his way over to that one Irish pub which you always ended up at.

Pushing the glass door open, Bucky looked around for a moment before noticing your slouched figure near the bar, a big glass of Guinness by your side as you snacked on a nut mix, head leaning against the hand you propped up on the bar with your elbow. Careful as to not startle you, he made his way over to your side, pulling another barstool a bit closer to you before clearing his throat.

You looked up, surprised to find him there as you didn't tell anyone where exactly you'd be. "You didn't pick up my calls."

"Ah, sorry… My phone was on silent."

"I figured." he sighed, leather glove-clad hands signaling for the bartender to bring him a glass of what you were having. "People are noticing, you know."

"Noticing what?" you asked, pushing your small bowl of dried nuts towards him, just in case he'd like to have some. You raised your glass to take a small sip, wiping the white foam of the beer off the top of your lip with your tongue.

"You. The way you push us away," his careful gaze on you made you want to run away right there and then. It felt like he was able to read right through you, and you didn't like that one bit. "Something is clearly wrong and you're not saying anything."

"There's literally nothing to say, Bucky." you shrugged him off, eyes darting between him and the bartender when he thanked the other after his drink arrived. "I don't know why it's so tough to believe, but I'm fine. I'm doing well."

"Are you?" he asked, the bitter taste of the drink lingering on his tongue. "Or is this how you convince yourself?"

You stood quiet at that, just timidly taking a few more sips of your drink, wanting nothing more than to have this conversation be over. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, watching the way your jaw tensed and your demeanor seemed to grow defensive.

"Are you tormented by memories?"

"For fuck's sake," you finally snapped, sighing to yourself before getting up from your seat, fishing for your wallet to take out a twenty and slap it against the table. "Just quit it, would you? If me trying to enjoy some alone time really bothers you, let's go back, Bucky."

The walk back to the compound was awkward. Eerily quiet. You weren't the type to give in to your anger, not with your friends at least, unless something was really wrong. Bucky didn't want to let it go that quickly.

"You've been rejecting me almost every night for weeks, when all I ever wanted was to spend some time with you," Bucky finally managed to say, before you could even make it inside. Standing with your arms crossed on your chest at the compound yard, you glared up at him. "What the fuck is that all about?"

"I'm fucking tired, alright, Sarge? I'm sorry I couldn't get through yet another pity party of ours," you snapped right back, chest heaving with the deep and angry breaths you were taking.

"That's- Is that what you think this is all about?" he asked, voice laced in disbelief. "Christ, Y/N, you've barely been in the moment for weeks now. You don't smile like you used to, you don't laugh- you don't even dare to spend some time with any of us unless it's absolutely necessary." he let out a deep sigh, reaching forward to put his hands on your arms, just to get you out of your defensive state. "So fuck me for being worried about you but I am, I'm concerned to the point where I can't help but think about how you must be feeling almost every moment of the day."

You sighed in defeat, shoulders falling a little as you looked down at the ground. You weren't all that aware that you were concerning him. You wouldn't have dropped the mask that often if you knew. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, just- just tell me why," he pleaded, thumbs rubbing against your clothed biceps as reassuring as he could muster. "Tell me why you've been shutting me out."

"It's not exactly- um," you took in a deep breath, shaking your head. "I just didn't feel comfortable, for some reason."

"Is it because you cry yourself to sleep every night?" he asked straight away, earning nothing more than a dreadful silence from you. "I know. I've noticed. I felt the same way before." Bucky felt as if his heart was shattering right before your eyes, a sigh escaping his lips before he pulled you closer, right into his embrace. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry." he whispered, feeling your deep draws of breath- he knew you were fighting back the tears, just to not seem weak in any way before him. "Why didn't you tell me anything?"

"It's just- I'm always expected to be a certain way," you whispered back, not trusting your voice at that moment. "To behave a certain way, to react a certain way- But I'm not happy. I haven't been, for a long time. I feel so empty that it makes me feel guilty because whenever I'm around you all, I feel like a liar and-"

"Hey, hey…" he cut you off, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he pulled you apart a bit, thumb running against your cheek as an attempt to fix the pout on your lips. "That's not the answer to my question."

"It's because I didn't want to bother you with my problems."

"Bother me? Christ, do you realize how much I adore you?" he chuckled in disbelief, his own eyes feeling more damp by each passing second. "Look- I was lucky, okay? I'm lucky because I had someone to reach out to me and pull me through. You just gotta let me be that hand, instead of shutting me out like this."

You nodded slowly, feeling a few drops of tear glide through your cheek- but Bucky wiped them away from you. "If your NatGeo offer still stands, then, um…" you trailed off, chuckling to yourself after a sniffle. "You know what, there's no need to- yeah, I won't- I'll just go up to my room, if that's okay?"

"Y/N," his tone made your name feel like a warning against his lips. "Stay with me for a night or two. Talk to me instead, when you feel like crying. Let's see where that takes us."

"Sure- okay. That's a, uh, good idea." you nodded your head a bit, reaching for yet another hug rather immediately. "Don't tell anyone about this, please."

"Your secrets are safe with me, angel." he hummed against your hair, keeping you as close as he could. "I'll keep them 'till the end of the line."

A night turned to two, two went all the way to a week until Bucky practically started to share his room with you. The two of you would talk for hours before sleeping, and you'd always make sure to guide him back to reality when he was awakened by nightmares. He didn't get them that often anymore, as your presence by his side was comforting enough to make him feel safe. And you?

You didn't feel that burdened anymore.

Shoulders lighter, deep conversations evolved into laughter fits and lighthearted jokes, limbs tangled with one another as you slept. Bucky would press his lips against your shoulder here and there, mumbling about how much it meant for him to have you trust him like this, and cut himself off before going any further about his feelings.

You knew, though. You could feel it in his gaze.

The two of you didn't need any words to tell each other about your love.

andrew’s spiderman and ryan’s deadpool WHEN

Rhythm

peter is a really, terrible actor. he doesn't need to be good. new years themed! friends to lovers, fake dating!

NOTE: HAPPY NEW YEARS!! i apologize for the delay, the tags got me :(

She’s like his heartbeat.

It’s rhythmic, the way his days circle around hers, the way their days weave into shared weeks, curving into months forming a life entwined like overgrown roots of oak trees.

She is easy to fall into, effortlessly graceful and unthinkingly kind. She’s the kind of beautiful you look at twice, just to make sure that you saw it right.

They live two buildings away from each other, and he’s memorized every step of how to reach her home. It’s a familiar waltz, a step in time to a place where safety and comfort is so abundant it surrounds the soul.

He hasn’t told her this, of course. There is comfort in her presence and peace found in her laughter, and he’s hardly strong enough to risk any of the beauty she brings about to tell her how it makes him feel.

Still, there is always the hypothetical.

And these is plenty he is willing to indulge himself, in the realm of the hypothetical. Thoughts of how she’d settle into his arms after a long day, how his face would fit into the crook of her neck. It’s a dangerous habit, how often he considers what it would be like to let someone worry over him, and that someone to be her, all softness and kind fingers brushing over harsh wounds- her loving Peter Parker. Not Spider-Man.

All of this to say that it is incredibly hard for him to say no to her.

She asks him when she’s just made him a cup of tea. It’s two days before New Years’, and he’s a sucker for her tea. To be perfectly honest, he loves watching her make it for him- how she runs her fingers through her hair before she grabs the mug, the way she rests one hand on her hip when she grabs the milk, how she stirs the honey and the spoon hits the ceramic, music in the way she shows care.

Her pretty eyes were wide and hopeful, and god isn’t that something the most selfish part of him wants to cling to, that even pretending to be her partner was something she would want of him.

“It’s just one night, Peter,” she says, and her delicate fingers are fiddling with themselves, picking at her cuticles, “And it’d help me out more than anything.”

“Are they really that weird about you being single?”

She’s single. It’s a truth he carries around like a wish-stone, a comfort he keeps thumbing over possibility.

“It’s just that I haven’t brought anyone to these parties, and they keep trying to set me up with someone, and I just- I really don’t wanna do that. Peter, you’d be doing me a massive favor.”

Set up. And it’s not like he doesn’t know that he has not leg to stand on, and he knows that it’s selfish, to keep her time hostage in their friendship. She deserves more than a best friend who looks at her too long, always too afraid to speak.

But he wants her, wants her more than his own sense of cowardice can suppress.

“Okay, okay! Anything to save you from a bind date!”

The way she lunges to hug him, all warmth and heart- she fits perfectly in his arms, the kind of match that feels tailor-made.

His girl.

This is going to be hard.

New Years Eve, 2021

She’s stunning.

She’s wearing this blush dress, and he’s seen it in her closet, thinks it might be her go-to date dress, and it’s dizzyingly satisfying to know that she’s dressed for him. Tonight, he will be able to touch her without restraint, speak of his affection without a layer of self-preservation behind it.

Closing the door behind her, she tucks her hair behind her ear, and asks him a question, one that draws him from the depths that drinking her in surrounds him in.

“Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful.”

It might be the only truth he says tonight, but it’s the most true. She’s prettier than city lights, than the view from the Empire State.

A whole new league of gorgeous.

She looks him up and down, drinks in the sight of him like she’s meeting him all over again, and he feels overwhelmingly seen, like she can see right through him.

“You look good too, Parker.” She smiles, before grabbing his hand, lacing their fingers together. “C’mon, it’s just my neighbor, she’s just down the hall.”

He tries desperately not to think about how good it feels to hold her hand.

After greeting her friends, one by one, she introduced him.

“This is my boyfriend, Peter.”

She plays the part beautifully, and he does his best to match. It’s not like they have to try very hard. Her friends have apparently expected this, and Peter- he doesn’t want to think about what that means. They know the rhythm to each other’s step, follow the other’s action like a dance they’ve memorized by heart.

She’d be an excellent girlfriend. He knew this, of course. Didn’t need a night of pretend to tell him that, Peter knew her kindness and warmth far before. Still, it’s intoxicating, the way flirt slips into her tone, how she trails her fingers up his wrist when they’re sitting at the table with her friends. She grabs him a drink calls him sweetheart, and part of him wishes he could keep it on vinyl, listen to her so-sweet voice over on a low crackle. Her sweetheart. What he’d give to really be that.

The whole night, she’s touching him. Nothing too much, nothing that anyone would call excessive. But it’s more than he’s ever felt from her- brushes their fingers, bumps their knees. After a while, on her friend’s couch, he had his arm around her, her head laying on his shoulder.

She’s the most precious thing he’s ever held.

Later, when everyone’s too caught up with their own lovers to ay attention to her fake one, Peter pulls her away to the kitchen. She looks so stunning, stunning in the original sense of the word. The sort of beauty that stuns you, stops you in your tracks.

“Hey, hey, am I doing okay?” He asks.

He’s got her backed up against the counter, and it’s a dizzyingly pleasant feeling, her this close to him. No one is watching. He’s pushing his luck.

“You’re the most convincing actor I’ve ever seen, Parker,” she laughs, and she’s giggly, tips her head to rest on his chest for just a second, just a passing indulgence, before she looks at him again, “I oughta keep you around.”

Please, he wants to say, I’d love to keep you.

“You’re pretty good yourself,” he replies’ and he’s playing fast and loose with the rules, his hand on her waist, “What did you say, you liked me since freshman year?”

She preens, and she’s so adorable, it nearly breaks his heart. He’s been doing far too much of that tonight.

She didn’t like him, freshman year. He knows that, because he overheard her talking about some guy, and when he asked her about it, she had just said it was some guy way out of her league.

That guy keeps Peter up, some nights. How some guy could have a shot with the girl of his dreams, and not want it.

“Yeah, well,” she looks down sheepishly, “I didn’t have to act that much.”

She can’t mean that. She can’t mean that.

“You didn’t,” he says, and it’s too slow, his hand trailing up to her face. He brushes the side of her cheek, and her eyelids flutter, her lashes throwing shadows on her pretty face, “it wasn’t- it was me?”

She can’t have liked him.

Because right now, and for much longer than that, Peter hasn’t wanted a damn thing else than to be the person she wanted. To be the person who could pull her in, hold her, kiss her in ways that no-one else could, in ways she’d only want from him.

He’s an addict with a craving for her affection, and she’s standing here offering him salvation. It can’t be happening.

“Peter,” her voice is a low hum, like a radio playing a song that always brings you home, “I don’t think I’ve wanted anything else from the minute I saw you.”

Her doe eyes are wide, searching his face, searching for meaning, but Peter- he’s all action. Her heartbeat’s fast, and he can almost feel the rhythm of her pulse, the finality of the dance they’ve been spinning for months. It’s a moment, Peter knows. And moments can slip.

Then, the counting starts.

It’s New Years, and she’s so close, and her perfume smells like roses. She’s warm and pliant in his arms, a blessing to behold in the arms of someone who is far less than she deserves.

3…

She’s the best thing that has ever happened to him. He keeps the city safe because it’s where she is.

2…

The way she’s looking at him- it’s unmistakable. She wants him back. There is nothing else he’s asked for from the universe.

1…

When it happens, it’s slow at first. She’s impossible not to be consumed by the sight of, and she’s so close, and he kisses her. He’s the one who does it, who leans in and takes the moment, her face in his grasp, her pulled close to him.

He could spend the rest of his life in this moment, in this kiss.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And when he looks down at her, wide-eyed and his home, she smiles. He could spend his entire life in moments like these.

He gets the feeling, though, that there will be plenty more.

Request? Baby mine was soooooo good. Can you do one where Chris helps Bella meet Noah for the first time? Cute fluffy one please 😭

Thank you sm for this request! This is more of a blurb, but I hope that you still like it even if it is a bit on the shorter side. x

Stepping Up

Baby Mine

“Are you ready to finally meet your little brother, Bells?”

Chris can’t help but grin to himself from ear to ear as he quickly makes his way down the hospital’s maternity ward towards your private room. He’s carrying his six and a half year old daughter, Isabella, on his hip. His mother and two sisters had been keeping an eye on Bella for the last couple of days while you were going through labor, and as soon as the baby was born, Chris had called them up and asked them to start heading down to the hospital. While his mother and sisters, along with the rest of his family, are anxious to see his son for the first time, he’s asked that they remain patient for a while longer because it is only right, in his mind, that Bella be the first to meet him. That, and he wants to spend some private time with his wife and children alone before the visitors start pouring in.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Bella pouts. She reaches up with her teeny fingers, nervously fiddling with his beard.

He laughs, shaking his head at her. He’s ready to explain to Bella that Noah is only a few hours old and can barely open his eyes, but instead, he assures her, “He is going to love you so much, Bella. You’re going to be the best big sister to Noah, me and mommy know that you will.” He stops just outside of your room and takes a moment to give her a loving kiss on her cheek. Chris hopes that the transition from being an only child to now having a sibling won’t be too difficult for her. The last thing that he wants is for Bella to ever feel like she isn’t as important or as loved as her brother. He’s never going to let that happen, not if he can help it. “I love you, Isabella. Always remember that no matter what, I love you very, very much.”

She wraps his arms around his neck. “I love you too, daddy.”

Chris hums and his arms give her tiny body a gentle squeeze. No matter how many times over the last couple of months she’s called him that, each and every time she says it feels like the first and it makes his heart swell warmly with pride. If there’s one thing he’s grown to absolutely adore, it’s being this little girl’s daddy—and hearing her call him that makes him happier than he’s ever been in his entire life.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s see if mommy is ready for us.” He lightly knocks at the door before cracking it open slightly. “Honey? You all done feeding? I have a little visitor here who is just dying to see you.”

“Yeah, I’m all done,” Your voice calls back in reply. You’re sitting up in your hospital bed, your back resting comfortably against the pillows as you cradle your newborn son in your arms. Your heart nearly explodes inside of your chest with complete and utter joy when your husband carries your daughter into the room. The last time you saw Bella was nearly forty-eight hours ago, right before you had started experiencing early symptoms of labor. Chris made the call of taking her to his mother’s house well before your water broke, just to be safe. Two days later, you couldn’t be happier to finally see her again. “Hi Bells!”

“Mommy!” She exclaims, right into Chris’ ear. “I missed you!”

You smile widely at her. “Oh, I bet I missed you more! How’s my best girl?”

“I’m good!”

Chris carries her over to your side, bringing her closer.

Bella’s big, innocent eyes widen when she gets a glimpse at the baby you’re holding in your arms.

“Bella, this is Noah,” You tell her, feeling an emotional lump rise in the back of your throat as you watch her reaction to him. You manage to swallow it back. “He’s been waiting all morning to meet you.”

Chris perches himself beside you on your bed, settling Bella onto his lap. “Go on, kiddo,” he encourages her. “Say hello.”

“Hi Noah.” She gives the sleeping infant a shy wave before bashfully turning around and burying her face into Chris’ chest.

He rubs her back soothingly. “It’s okay, Bells.” He prompts her to take another look.

You hold up Noah towards them. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.”

Bella lifts her head from his chest and turns her attention back to her brother. She hesitates, at first, but then she reaches over and gently touches his cheek. She gasps. “He’s so soft!”

Chris watches the scene before him, his own emotions nearly getting the best of him. He never could have imagined that he would have a family—his own perfect little family. But here he is, with a gorgeous wife and two beautiful, perfect children.

“Mommy? Can I hold him?” Bella suddenly asks, timidly looking up at you.

“Honey, I think you’re too little—”

Chris immediately interjects. “Well, wait a second. I think we can make that happen.” He quickly stands up and sets Bella down on her feet before walking over to the single, dark blue armchair that’s nestled in the corner of your room. He drags it up beside your bed, giving you a wink as he does so. He picks Bella up and sits her in the chair before taking one of your extra pillows and placing it onto her lap. He takes her arms in his hands and begins to maneuver them for her. “Here, hold your arms out like this against the pillow. There we go, that’s it. Just keep your arms like that, okay?”

Bella nods her head and does as she’s told. “Okay, daddy.”

Chris takes Noah from your arms and you watch as he gingerly sets the baby in Bella’s waiting arms. He’s careful to keep his hand on the back of Noah’s head for support.

“And there we go,” he says, grinning at her. “Look at you! Being a big girl and holding your baby brother.”

Bella beams proudly. “Look Mommy! I’m doing it!”

You reach over and grab a tissue from the bedside table, dabbing at your eyes.

“You okay, honey?” Chris glances over his shoulder at you.

You nod lightly, sniffing. “Hormones.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to his kids.

Noah fusses and a second later, he opens his eyes ever so slightly.

“He’s awake!” Bella whispers. “Daddy! He’s looking at me!”

“He is, sweetheart.” Chris brushes a stray lock of hair out of her face. “Talk to him.”

“I love you Noah,” Bella coos to him. “I promise to be the bestest big sister ever!”

𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙈𝙚

pairing:  soft dark!professor andy barber x reader

concept: Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: possessive Andy, hair pulling, dom Andy/sub reader undertones, age gap (reader is early 20s), edging, fingering,  fingering, oral (f receiving),pussy slapping,manipulation — soft dub con to be safe but reader is excited,  power imbalance, dumbification, praise, Professor kink, reader sent a nasty email to Professor Andy, Sir kink, dirty talk, spanking, size kink, rough sex, blowjob, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, nickname- (love, princess, slut)

a/n: @sunshinebuckybarnes Now, have fun daydreaming hehe. Thank you for that beautiful ask.

the cute gif and moodboard made by me

line divider: @s-tarksintern

lovely betas: @writing-for-marvel, @purpleshallot and @beach-daydreaming

Masterlist

His path leads you into the darkness of blue but all you can see is the fire of desire

After he picked you up from the bar, you were cold and he was lustful, so it wasn't your fault.

As soon as you decided to go out, have a little fun, and were two tequila shots in, you sent him an email in the bar telling him that his grading system was terrible. You totally deserved that A in his human relations class and he needed to be more knowledgeable about the world. You were required to take Professor Barber’s class to finish your degree, and in doing so everything changed for you. 

It was Andrew Barber who gave you your new warmth and moans.

Now, who do you break your rules for?

"Professor Barber..."

You turned your head, your lips hovering over Andy's. Your heart raced as you stared into his blue eyes. The normally bright blue shade darker than you’ve ever seen; nearly black as his pupils were blown wide with lust.

"Did I tell you that you could talk back to me, Princess?" He whispered, his voice grating your senses like gravel.

You shook your head lightly, feeling that you had just dug yourself a deeper hole. Now that he has read that email, he was picking up the pieces.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

"Turn around and read the email back to me," Andy commanded.  Compliant as if you were sitting in his class, your eyes drifted away from him to the laptop sitting atop his kitchen counter.

Your email glared back at you, taunting you :

Subject: Fuck You, Prof. Barber.

 The courage and vitrol that fueled your desire to give Professor Barber a price of your mind was astonishingly absent as you stood in his kitchen with his chest pressing against your back. Instead, seeing it filled you with dread and fear for what he may do to your academic career. Its heat pressing against your skin filled you with a desire you never knew existed, much like a coin has two sides.

Suddenly, you’re taken aback by the sensation of his hands sliding down your arms, then back up, enough to make goosebumps erupt across your skin, and for you to take a sharp breath.

You read the first line of the cursed email out loud, your voice wavering as Andy’s body heat intensified against your back. His reflection a shadow  staring at you through the laptop screen. You bit your lower lip to stem the tears that had begun to gather in your eyes, looking at the keyboard leaving your face raw and exposed to his punishment.

Andy wave his hand through the sweater and rubbed his fingertips against your nipple, and gently teased it. You felt your skin tingle in a frenzy of static as he pinched them.

A simple squeeze left you feeling as if your body was falling apart. 

As the warmth from Andy's center propelled you into overdrive, your tongue stroked across your lower lip. Andy laid light kisses over your neck, his fingers coming closer as he neared the center of your warmth.

In the palm of his hand, Andy swiped his thumb up, caressing the smooth skin with his fingertips. In the blink of an eye, he pulled back his hand and took your chin in between his fingers. He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, his lustful eyes stared into  yours. Andy pressed his lips against your ear, and growled, "Repeat what you said in the email." 

Nervously, you swallowed.

How could you be so stupid to send him that email?

It wasn't your intention, but his grading system was out of date and he needed to fuck someone off to let his grumpy state see the light.

"Repeat what you wrote to me, word for word...don't make me ask again."

The thudding of your heart echoed in your ears. Each breath shook in your lungs. 

You mustered the courage you felt when you wrote the email and repeated, "Professor Barber, your way of living is sad, which explains why you are divorced and lonely—”

You paused.

Andy took his hand off your chin, gliding down your neck to the collar of the sweater. Pulling the collar away from your neck, he buried his teeth in your neck. “Did I tell you to stop reading?"

It was a new, fresh pleasure to wince in pain.

"N-no, Professor," you said shakily.

You felt Andy’s hand leave your neck and follow the curves of your body, stopping only when  it rested on your inner thigh. A tingle zinged throughout your body as Andy pulled your legs apart and revealed your lace panties that were soaked from your dripping cunt. 

"You insulted me, Princess," Andy growled.

Your lips curled into a soft moan as your eyes closed. Andy's eyes glowed with lust, his grin widening as he placed his palm on your wet pussy, forcing the lace aside to feel  the wetness that was his.

"Look at you," he beamed, “I've barely touched you and you're so wet for me."

You lost control from the  the warmth of his hand that rubbed your wet pussy. You believed  that you would stand your ground and he would change, but you were ── in his house, in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, half-naked- and his touch destroyed your strong aura as an independent woman. 

"You've been such a little tease all semester." He reached down to undo your lacy underwear, taking them off without any effort.

Was this an exam of desire?

"You are such a-"

Your insult cut short by a harsh slap. 

The harsh smack against your throbbing pussy left your body shaking, and you learned, in that moment, that he was holding the strings to your desire. 

"I don't hear you reading, Kitten." Andy’s voice slithered through the fog like a siren to a pirate.

But, instead of reaping your reward from a Professor knocked down, you walked willingly into his trap.

The second smack made your entire body tremble and your knees wobble.

"Are you getting quiet?" he smirked. When his hand smacked your throbbing, wet center again, your fingernails dug deep into the counter. 

Your voice quiet, you continued, “Your methods are ineffective, and no one is warming your bed with the ridiculous sweaters and ties you wear to hide your life and I bet your co—."

Trying to maintain your composure, your nails dug deeper into the counter as your body slowly reacted to the sudden change in events; as if you were stuck in molasses. One moment, you’re filled with a righteous indignation at his grading system that fueled your deep desire to have him know what you really thought of him and his course with no thought as to the consequences of your actions as you pressed “send”  The next moment, you are at his house, bent over his kitchen counter. You haven’t the faintest clue how you got here, your mind filled with nothing but thoughts of Andy.

You are sober but drunk with desire.  His desire. His attention.

You wanted to know how far this would go when you felt his touch. There was no doubt that you lied, but Professor Andy was a man.

A man who just needed you.

With ragged breaths, you tried to calm yourself, but your body rejected your silent plea for self-control as you fell back against his chest. Andy's fingers sped up, and as you trembled and instinctively tried to close your legs, you knew it was not possible to regain control from Andy.

"Mmm, Princess, let's talk about what you said about my manhood," Andy said softly as his lips met your cheeks, a soft kiss that contrasted with the strong smack he employed on your swollen clit.

In spite of your pleas for him, he ignored you and slowly inserted his fingers inside your body while he laughed at your squirming. With each movement you made, he slapped you again and again. Your moans were all that was heard and the feel of his fingers inside you with a slap to keep your mind from wandering.

His disciplined approach keeps you motivated and hungry for more as he leaves his mark on your body

"Princess, you deserve to be tortured the same way that you've tortured me all semester." Andy said as he swiftly pulled  his fingers out of you., Your eyes widened as he licked your juices off his thick fingers before turning you around to him. "You taste delicious and all dripping for me"

You gasped at his sheer strength, trying to push back against him. 

Andy held you down with his free hand as adjusted himself behind you. Knowing what was likely to happen, you moaned at the sound of his belt buckle rattling.

“Professor…”

"I won't leave you unpunished." He snapped his belt, making you shiver with arousal. "You don't want to be expelled from university because of your actions, now do you?"

“No, sir I will do anything” you pleaded as his fingers edged your heat. 

You screamed when he landed a stronger blow to your pussy before you could say anything further.

“Please…” you cried. The sudden intrusion of his middle and ring fingers in your body caused you to scream in agony as he didn’t allow you to adjust.

A steady rhythm of his fingers blurred your vision as you felt yourself edge toward your end; to the abyss of your orgasm.

“Oh, my God! Sir...” you cried. "I- I'm going to cu-cum..."

You were right there, right at the precipice of ecstasy. 

Andy ripped his fingers out begrudgingly and pulled you back from the edge of your orgasm. You squirmed and slowly cried out his name from the absence of his touch.

"I'm not going to let you off that easy, honey", Andy said condescendingly. He spanked you hard on your ass, then pulled you by the hair to stand straight.

“Take off the sweater, put it on the floor, and get on your knees.” 

You have taught me more about myself in your presence and reflection, his slut

Andy smirked and gripped the back of your neck, “What was the line you said about my cock?” You let out a soft moan when you saw his cock up close and immediately opened your mouth to let him use it.

Andy stroked your face with his free hand as he rubbed his cock's tip along your lips. "It’s time for you to learn your place and respect me,” He slapped your face and shoved his cock in your throat.

Tears fell from your eyes from the sudden intrusion in your throat. 

You felt the heat between your thighs increasing and wanted to please him. You enjoyed the gagging sensation his cock gave you in the back of your throat. You preened as you felt him tense up and his dick swell in your mouth.

Your ability to think clearly and to resist anything he did to you was gone. You were intoxicated s by his size, taste, attitude, and your own arousal. Your hand drifted between your legs to touch yourself at how hot it was.

Andy took a deep breath and tugged at your hair, controlling your movements, your head bobbing down toward him when he saw your hand wander down your stomach. He pulled out of your mouth and pulled you upright by your hair. 

He smiled down at you as he reached down to grab your legs. He lifted you into the air, your legs wrapping  around his waist, as he carried you to his living room. Despite your behavior, the soft kisses on your hair remind you that he cares for you and that you are his princess.

The smell of his skin lingers on my body, and I crave more.

The soft cushions of his couch bounced when you landed. As he stripped off his clothes and got down  on his knees, his lustful blue eyes stared at you like a predator.

"Look at you lusting for me," he groaned. "Want to see what my tongue can do for my slut's pussy?"

He leant in as he listened to your desires, blowing soft air, inhaling your scent, and rested his nose on your pussy. 

His tongue came out and almost hesitantly licked your clit.

“I'm sorry for— the , please let me--” you moaned and grabbed hold of his hair, fists clenched tight. It was his tongue that reminded you he controls everything in your body. His beard burned your pussy and tickled your entire being. He gave you punishment so easily, you knew it wasn't even close to the end. 

You knew his game of seduction.

You moaned as you wrapped your body around his cool lips, and a smirk appeared on his face as he marked your legs beneath his fingertips and watched your breasts move with his rhythm.

“Andy, I’ve been so good for you, please... I promise I will do anything you ask of me, please fuck me up.” You cried, desperate to feel him.

The chuckle on his face was accompanied by a lick of his lips. Your hips jerked in anticipation of another kiss, but he stood away from you instead. In his hand, he spat, briefly stroked his cock, and then moved closer to your pussy.

“Oh, aren’t you so desperate for me?” Andy leaned over and roughly kissed you. You could taste yourself on his lips as you tried to pull his tongue closer to yours. You were his needy little slut

The tip of his cock teased you as you pleaded for him to fuck you.

“What makes you believe you deserve this? ”

“Please…” you begged.

"Well... " he said as you groaned beneath him. "Since you asked so nicely, and I respect desire"

Despite your squeal, he pushed steadily inward. While working in your cunt, he groaned with satisfaction, knowing he would be the only one to touch it.

He pulled his hips back and, for a moment, you thought he was pulling out, but the next instant he slammed his cock deep, pounding hard against you. You squealed out your wants.

Andy stroked your pussy passionately, fucking it deeply. When your pussy squeezed Andy's dick like a fist, he knew you had the tightest pussy he had ever felt. "Look at your pussy welcoming me in, it is so good, damn it is so good, do you feel it" he groaned in your ear as he leaned forward to grow louder and louder as he rapidly thrust into the pussy as he knew that the cunt was meant to be fucked hard, fast, rough, and deep.

It was a blissful feeling as your hardened nipples scraped against his chest while he rocked against you in response to each grinding thrust. "It feels so good, Sir...don't stop." 

Andy bent down to capture your lips,pushing his tongue down your throat. “You are my new fucktoy now. Your only responsibility is to warm your professor's dick whenever he needs it, right? I will never stop fucking you, my princess. "

It was a struggle for you to respond as Andy thrust hard and fast into your sodden hole, moaning softly while unable to reply, "Yes, Professor.". 

Putting his hands around the top of your head and linking his fingers, Andy rammed you down brutally using his own hands to hold you in place.

"My pussy, my princess," Andy whispered with every thrust as he slammed his cock in you, planting sloppy wet kisses on your jawline.

A deep expression filled his face as he gazed into your eyes. "Who are you?" 

You couldn’t answer him.  You wanted to tell him you were his slut and his only. Your vision spun as Andy dragged out your orgasm. Feeling as if you might pass out, you dug your nails deeply into his back.

Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.

The sweater was a reward for pleasing, and a punishment for looking gorgeous with it on. 

You sat in class, and awaited the professor's arrival. When you got a text message saying, "My sweater fits nicely on you and let me see my pussy," "you opened your legs so he could see it.

To know what is his, he needs to see it.

In front of you, Professor Andy was licking his lips and getting ready to begin his class.

Your ragged breath fills the air as I savor every drop, because we both know the fun is only just starting.

✧ SEBASTIAN STAN 80th Annual Golden Globe Awards January 10th, 2023 | Beverly Hills