His lips twitched as his eyes sparkled with amusement, but he quickly cleared his throat and set his face in stone again. "I'm not cute. I'm deadly."

"Yeah, deadly cute," you mumbled, a grin tugging at your own lips as you tapped his nose once more.

His face scrunched up as you did so, causing giggles to erupt from your mouth as you watched with glee; resulting in him losing the fight against being annoyed and grinning softly at you, shaking his head in amusement as affection danced in his eyes.

"So, if you get to do that to me for being cute," he began, his grin morphing into a mischievous one. "What do I get to do to you for being adorable?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Your face flushed as he looked at you, eyebrow raised as he waited expectantly for an answer.

"'Cause I got a few ideas, you know," he said casually, leaning his shoulder into the back of the couch as he gazed at you.

The look on his face was enough to get you out of your seat, grinning widely as you backed away from him. "Gotta catch me first, Barnes."

Accepting the challenge, he took his time getting up - giving you a head start. You squealed in delight, turning on your heels and running down the hall.

Bucky followed casually behind you, watching in adoration as you scurried away. He knew he'd catch you easily - you both knew it - but he'd hold off a few seconds more.

He just wanted to listen to your giggles a little bit longer.

Character(s)—version: No more than 3 please.

Poly141

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Captain John Price

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Any ship of the TF141 (e.g. Ghoap, PriceSoap, GazPrice, etc)

Clark Kent (Superman)

Gomez Addams

Mortician Addams

Gomez and Morticia Addams

Poly Gomez and Morticia Addams

Reader Insert—any gender, sex, sexual orientation, AU, Military, LGBT+, etc. (I may need you to clarify my understanding of your request.)

Note: If there is a character you want and not listed, welcome to ask me anyway. (I might have just forgotten their name. Brain fog sucks.)

Prompt(s): please select the emojis. No more than 3.

🤔 Make up your own prompt(s).

🧊“Why didn't you tell me you were cold? Come here.”

😁“Why are you smiling at me like that?”

💧“You're dripping on my carpet.”

🗣️“ I didn’t want you to yell at me!”

❤️“I never thought I would be able to fall in love with someone like you.”

😏 “Any closer and I’ll be inside you. Shut up, I heard it. Stop smirking.”

🪑*pointing at their lap* “That seat taken?”

🫴 “Come around the table,” they command.

😊 “A smile brightened your face and for a moment, I would have done anything for you.”

👍“I can keep you safe, but what’s mine is mine.”

🪮Person A unexpectedly combs their fingers through Person B’s hair

😢The first time they cry in front of them.

✍️ “I miss your love letters.”

🫣 "I don't ever want you to feel uncomfortable with me."

🌹Person B brings Person A a bouquet of their flowers they weren’t expecting.

👊“They won’t take you away from me ever again.”

💪“You don’t have to be strong with me.”

💙“It’s my turn to take care of you.”

🫂 “Come get. I got you.”

✅ “I’m done.

🚍 Person B falls asleep on Person A’s shoulder, accidental or not.

Tag(s) and Tropes: No more than 3 please

Fluff

Angst

Fluff and Smut (see tag pure smut below)

Hurt/Comfort (need situation or setup, like best friends, college students studying, old pals, miscommunication, arguing)

Omegaverse

Omegaverse adjacent

One bed

Roommates to Lovers

Co-workers to Lovers

Unrequited love but not really

Pure smut (if you can, please provide the situation or setup that leads into the smut and any kinks you’d like. HARD NO’S—feces, watersports (unless marking), rape (consensual or not), incest, underage (all characters must be 18+ years old), )

Human only

Polyamory—please advise relationship type (V-relationship, throuple, polycule, etc)

Cuddling

Heat/Rut or Mating Cycles

Interspecies relationship—please advise what and how they interact, platonic, familial, or romantic, etc.

Supernatural Elements—please advise what you’d like included.

Understanding flashed across Julia's face and she gave a small pat on Callisto's shoulder. "Maybe it's progress?" she suggested, staying by Callisto's side as the other women near them went to join the others around Evangeline as the dinner bell began to ring.

Callisto could only make a weak sound of agreement, trying to ignore the growing need between her legs as she made her own way in her wife's direction.

Evangeline

The heat of Callisto's stare had been pressing on her ever since she'd joined everyone downstairs. Determinedly concentrating on her food, Evangeline did her best to ignore it as she made small talk with the other women around them. But it was hard to ignore when Callisto remained silent beside her, the weight of the normal quiet seeming heavier than it usually was.

Her hands began to grow clammy as her nerves got the better of her. Was this a mistake? Callisto had said she could wear what she wanted. That it didn't matter to her as long as she was comfortable. Evangeline had still been unsure but also really had wanted to try on the dress Maia had insisted she pack. "It'll just be all women there for this visit." her lady's maid had said. "So it's the perfect time to try things you're unsure about without any men gawking at you. The only one you'll leave hot and bothered will be Cal, if anyone."

Evangeline still wasn't completely sure what hot and bothered meant. It didn't sound bad the way Maia had said it, but now Callisto had been all but glowering at her for most of dinner.

Gods, this had been such a mistake. She'd just wanted to try something new, get a little more comfortable in her skin, try wearing a dress she never could have under her stepmother's thumb. Everyone else had been so kind and nice about it, but if Callisto didn't approve then-

"Evee?"

Evangeline jumped as her wife spoke softly next to her. Blushing, she met deep blue eyes watching her closely. Her mouth went dry at the softness there, something else buried beneath it.

"Can we talk?" Callisto asked. Her voice had a slight waver in it. If Evangeline didn't know better, she would have thought her wife almost sounded nervous. "Out in the hall? Just for a moment."

Unsure what to think, Evangeline nodded, following her wife out into the hall. Was she not going to be punished? But then what was all the staring about? When she'd gotten those heavy looks from her family, it was never followed with good things.

But now she stood in an alcove of the hallway with Callisto, who was now avoiding looking at her at all, her gaze now firmly on the floor between them.

"You wanted to talk?" Evangeline prompted gently, fidgeting with her hands in front of her.

Callisto nodded, her eyes still lowered. "Is that a new dress?" she asked, her deep voice still strange with that odd quiet tone.

Swallowing hard, Evangeline stammered, "It-it is. If you want me to return it, I-"

"No!" Callisto looked just as surprised as Evangeline felt by the sudden outburst. Pink started dusting over her face as she was looking at Evangeline now. "No, don't do that." she murmured, her eyes roaming over Evangeline's body.

A flush heated her own face and chest as she felt her wife's gaze intently and solely on her now. Now that they were face to face, alone together, Evangeline recognized the heat. The heavy weight of her wife's gaze. A look she remembered from their wedding night. Looks she'd been ignoring and pushing away since her return, but... since their talk in the garden shed, since they'd agreed to take things at her pace, she'd begun to crave those looks that had become so far and few between since she'd snapped those months ago. Now that she knew what Callisto meant by them, she just... the curiosity had tugged at her. Still tugged at her.

"If..." she cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice even. "If you want to kiss me, you can do that."

Callisto's eyes met hers again, so intense it made Evangeline's breath catch in her throat. "Are you sure?" her voice rumbled, nearly a growl as she took a step closer. "Because once I start," her hand floated above Evangeline's waist. "I may not be able to stop."

Finding her voice again, Evangeline murmured, "I don't want you to stop."

That hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her close as Callisto's other hand slipped into the back of her dress, her thumb sending tingles down Evangeline's spine as it brushed that tender spot between her wings. "Last chance." she whispered, her lips brushing against Evangeline's.

Whining softly, Evangeline took the plunge herself, a thrill spreading through her as her wife gasped into her sudden kiss, heat boiling between them as their lips parted, gasping pants and moans mingling as they pressed against each other. As Callisto's leg slipped between hers, her back now against the wall, as her wife kept her wings from being crushed against it, Evangeline suddenly understood the sentiment of characters in books feeling like they had "too much clothing on between them." Especially when part of her dress was undone and Callisto had even less of a barrier to tease against.

Gods, she'd never been luckier than to have this woman choose to be her wife.

Feel free to ask for more from the list! I'm really only up to writing bits still atm

Assorted Scenes Pt1; Assorted Scenes Pt2; Assorted Scenes Pt3; Miscellaneous+Deleted Scenes; Masterlist

Their Sacred Vow Taglist:

@whumperofworlds, @melpomenelamusa, @writinggremlin

“Oh, hi, I…” you sputter, “it’s not the wrong day, is it?”

The question strikes you as stupid the moment it hangs before you. No, he wouldn’t be here if it was the wrong day.

“Did I get the wrong time?”

He sits up, setting down the book on the desk before him. He looks unimpressed as he leaves on the hardcover of his copy of Wuthering Heights. Your own is a curling paper back with wrinkles along the spine. You bite your lip and teeter on your toes, turning your toes together.

He watches you, sliding the book loudly across the wood, “you are the only one. Seems like this wasn’t such a good idea.”

You frown and look above his head, at the face of the clock ticking on the wall. It’s almost twenty minutes past the hour. You feel worse for him now than you did running in late.

“I’m sorry, professor, I…” you look around awkwardly, “I was so excited but maybe someone else will show up. I don’t mind waiting.”

He seems less than heartened by your words. He sighs and looks down at the book, running his fingers across the embossed cover. You go to the middle row and lift your bag onto the desk, fishing around for your copy.

“Maybe we can get started without them,” you volunteer, searching for anything to kill the unease, “I really enjoyed the book, Prof–”

“Don’t bother. Go back and have fun with your friends,” he waves you off as he turns back up the aisle, “I won’t keep you. Obviously, you coeds have a lot more going on than some ancient tome.”

“Oh, uh,” you blink at his back, his broad shoulders stretching the tweed of his blazer. He talks as if he’s terribly old but he hardly shows it. There’s a few strands of silver in his hair but you can hardly tell as they blend into the golden highlights, “so, what do you think? Did Bronte mean to reprimand her protagonists or romanticise them? I thought the narrative was kinda condemning, don’t you think?”

He stops and pushes his head back. A long breath as he turns on his heel.

“Really? Most would say it’s overly praising, that it glorfiies Catherine and Heathcliff’s love,” he intones, “at least, most girls your age say so.”

“Well, I uh… found it almost annoying that Heathcliff refuses to change,” you explain as you sit down, “truly, but with Hareton, Catherine can grow…”

“Hmm,” he hums and walks along the next row, turning a chair around to sit, “tell me more.”

You rub your dry lips together before you find another thought. You don’t want to admit that you were scrolling on Reddit and a lot of your ideas were borrowed from the arguments there. Still, you came all the way here and you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave him. 

You go on about the mirroring of Heathcliffe and Catherine, how their similarities are almost detrimental, as if they are part of each other rather than lovers. He nods thoughtfully as you speak.

“I don’t know, I think I need to do a second read,” you shrug as you eyes meet his. The intent blue irises nearly make you wither.

“I think you got it,” he allows his mouth to curve just a little, “thank you for humouring me.”

“No, professor, I–”

“I’m not stupid, the letters beside my name would at least suggest that,” he leans back in the chair and frames his book with his thumbs and index fingers. 

You admire the cover, leather inlaid with the image of the literary amours, “yours is much prettier than mine.” You close the curling cover and try to hold it smooth, the blocked font offering little more than simplicity. “I got it from the second-hand pile at the student shop.”

“It has character,” he says as he reaches over, his thumb brushing yours as he slides it from beneath your grasp. He flips through the pages, the soft breeze of the flutter causing a short blond strand to droop down his forehead, “a special sort of beauty.”

He peeks up at you. You don’t know what to say. What he’s waiting for. You smile as his gaze follows your nervous fingers as they tap against your throat. You still the anxious gesture and look at the clock.

“Like you,” he breathes. 

Your eyes drop back to him and you shake your head, “pardon?”

“Hm,” he tilts his head, “I didn’t…” he cranes to look at the clock, “well, I won’t keep you any longer. I guess you should–”

“Have you been to Marge’s? The new cafe down by the arena?” You blurt out. Your habit of rambling when you're addled never fails to corner you, “I was going to go there after and have some tea. Maybe…” you touch your cheek, suddenly embarrassed. “Oh, shoot, I guess that’s too forward. I’m sorry, I’m not… I’ll go.”

Ok. So. I think Carlos wants to be taken care of. The race finished hours ago, but then there was press, and the debrief, and so the fight has gone out of him a little and by the time he makes it back to your hotel room he's just so tired, and so disappointed in the team and the FIA and himself, and so you make him sit down on the couch and climb onto his lap and hold him close, whispering "I love you" into the otherwise empty room over and over again. After a while you pull back a little, cup his face and kiss him and you can feel him grow hard but when you try to slide off his lap so you can sink to your knees and help him out, he holds onto you tighter, keeping you close, and whispers a pained, "Don't," against your lips.

Before you have a chance to protest he kisses you again, a little more passionate this time, but when you grind down he grabs your hips and makes you stop. "I want-" he starts but then shakes his head and swallows hard as if he's embarrassed, "Nevermind."

"Carlos," you counter, quietly, to let him know it's ok. "Tell me. Let me make you feel better." Putting your mouth close to his ear you whisper, "Use your words to use me, baby."

He says something in Spanish, cursing quietly in his native tongue, and his voice is even rougher when he switches back to English, "I want to be inside of you but I don't want-" He sounds almost ashamed but just when you want to tell him it's ok, that you'd do anything for him, he clears his throat and tries again, "I don't want you to move."

Fuck.

"Ok," you tell him, placing openmouthed kisses along his jawline until you find his mouth and lick into it because of course his lips were already parted and ready for you. He sucks your tongue deeper into his mouth then and you feel yourself grow wetter and wetter and so you rise up ever so slightly and bunch up the fabric of your flimsy summer dress, pushing it up past your hips. Your hands make quick work of his belt and the button and zipper of his jeans and when you reach into his boxers and take him out he's already half hard. You need him all the way there though and so you pull back and spit in your hand, getting him hard with a few flicks of your wrist not much later.