mdni - 18+ only! i post mature content and i am not interested in discussing my work with any underage people.
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cw: nerd!armin, nsfw, smut, pwp, college au, exhibitionism? p in v, slightly public sex, sex in library, armin is mean, riding, spit, tutor? armin secret sex pro, lowk just pure smut in the library bc nerd armin has taken over my brain
nerd!armin has you bouncing up and down his cock. tucked in the corner of the library that no one visits, where no one can hear your muffled cries.
drool hangs out the corner of your mouth, soaking the fabric of the pink, lacy panties you had put on just for him, the same ones he had ripped off of you.
just moments before, you had innocently asked him for help on an assignment...before purposely dropping your pencil to show off your new pair.
armin wasn't well known to others, but he had been your secret obsession the whole semester. but while everyone else was out partying, he was studying, meaning that you had to resort to... alternative measures in order to see him outside of class.
"you just had to show off, didn't you?" he grunts, lifting your hips before slamming them down brutally. "wanted everyone to see what a little slut you are, hmm?"
you can only stifle a moan in response, tears pooling at your eyes as you clutch onto his shoulders. the fabric of his shirt is soaked by your fluids. the plap! plap! plap! of skin against skin is loud and audible, but the sound is the least of your worries as armin stills his grip on you, all movement coming to a halt.
you whine pathetically, squirming in his arms to attempt some form of relief.
a slap! rings through the library, and the stinging sensation on your left asscheek leaves you whining and rutting for more.
"stupid slut." he growls, fogged up glasses slipping down the rim of his nose. he slaps you again, before lifting your hips and thrusting up into your, hard.
"ah!" you crumble, face burying into his neck. he lifts his hand from your ass to tangle it into your hair, pulling your head to face him. "fucked so dumb you can't even look at me anymore?" he snatches the panties out of your mouth. "let me hear you moan."
you obey, letting forth your cries as he resumes his thrusts, pounding into your poor, abused pussy like it's his last race.
"a-armin, wait, i'm 'bout to--!" you slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans as the dam breaks. wet, erotic squelches continue as he fucks you through your high.
suddenly, you're flipped onto the desk, study materials flying onto the floor as he pins your stomach to the brown hardwood. he presses down on your back, leaning over you to lick a stripe up your ear. "who said you could cum without permission?"
you hear a rustling behind you. in your fucked-out gaze, you see him pulling off the rubber that is soaked with your fluids. he catches your stare. a grin tugs at the corners of his lips. "bad girls deserve to get fucked raw."
raw? a shiver runs down your spine. "wait, armin, it's a bad day for me--ah!" you're silenced as he rams into your pussy, bottoming out in one deep, brutal thrust. you're a moaning mess, fingernails etching into the wood as you're slammed back and forth against the table. "n-no, i'm gonna get preg-ah! pregnant..."
he scoffs, pushing you down harder. "even better."
armin presses against your back, snatching your jaw to slam his lips against yours.
his glasses press against your nose, and he squeezes your cheeks to grant himself entrance into your mouth. As your tongues collide, you feel the cool metal of his tongue piercing scrape against the roof of your mouth. you moan into him, heated pants stealing your breath as your walls squeeze around his cock involuntarily.
"you like that?" he chuckles darkly, pulling away to stick out his tongue. "got it just for this."
he lifts you by your hair, forcing your back to arch as he bullies his way into your core. he pulls you into a kiss again, before mumbling a quick, "open," and spitting into your open mouth with a splat!
you take it, swallowing obediently and sticking out your tongue to show him your work. he groans filthily, and you feel his cock pulse inside you. he roughly slams into you, a grin erupting onto his face, and you see his tongue dart out to catch the drool at the corner of his mouth.
he flips you over with a grunt, slamming your back into the table as he begins pummeling into your core. "cum again f'me." he mumbles, wiping the fog off his glasses. he's reaching down to rub circles on your clit. "cum. now."
with his words, you come undone on his cock, legs spasming as you clutch at his wet t-shirt. you're shaking as his thrusts slow, before he gives you one last thrust, bottoming out to shoot ropes of cum into your womb. with a low, "fuck..." he's pumping for at least a minute, and you can feel the hot spurts painting your insides white as he stills inside of you.
he's panting, face buried into your neck, glasses pushed up into his hair. you both lie there for a moment, savoring the post-nut bliss before he slowly pulls out of you, bringing a moan out of your mouth. you feel the sliding of his cock as he taps it on the head of your clit, admiring his handiwork. he whistles, taking out his phone to snap a picture of your cum-filled hole, the white fluids dripping down onto your thigh.
you're too fucked out to care as he records your sorry state, giving your cunt a few slaps, even pushing a finger into your hole to plug his cum back in, before stuffing his phone into his back pocket. he's stuffing his cock back into his pants, but you can barely move, still twitching and panting on the table from your high.
he's about to leave when he gives you a once over, then takes off his plaid flannel to wrap you in it carefully. he sits you down carefully, brushing your hair from your face, leaving a soft peck on your temple. he slides your used panties up your legs, making sure to carefully keep his seed inside, then smooths out your skirt, tucking a business card into your waistband. he's cleaning off his glasses before bidding you farewell, leaving you in the library to collect yourself.
you were definitely going to schedule another session.
"call me if you need another lesson."
you slowly pull out the card, eyes skimming the letters on the cardstock and fingers quick to save the number in your phone.
Armin Arlert, Tutoring Services, XX university, (#).
Happy Sunday to the men who press the tip of their cock up against the entrance to your pussy, convincing you they’re going to begin sinking in before they opt to slide the length up through your folds instead. To let you feel the weight of the tip roll over your clit until your thighs are twitching, and you can barely hold onto the frown you’re wearing as you beg them to put it in already. But they don’t look too convinced when they draw their hips back again and they watch the way your slick clings to the shaft, easing their thrusts as your folds wrap around the length of them— seems you’ll have to try harder than that.
funny things i remember from sunset blvd (2024/jamie lloyd production)
when joe comes out of the body bag at the top of the show (i think tom was struggling a bit with the zipper, so from my perspective he kinda shimmied out of it lmfao)
"you've come to the right party ;)"
"i love it when you talk dirty"
"right now, i'd like to crawl into a hole and pull it in after me" same, betty
also her smile fading once she realizes that she talked shit about joe's script right in front of him lmfao
sheldrake echoing joe's earlier line ("i believe in self-denial") because joe is god's least favorite, apparently
joe's crashout is just yelling incoherently and stomping around in the circle like a toddler (i have no idea what he's saying)
"come to get your knife back? it's still there, right between my shoulder blades" (never change joe)
"i really liked it" "i'm all warm and runny inside" (lmfao joe)
"writers with pride don't live in LA" the shade
"I AM BIG - it's the pictures that got smaller" queen
"wait... did you say you were a writer?" "that's what it says on my guild card"
"looks like six very important pictures"
"i didn't know you were planning a comeback" "i Hate. that word. it's a return! :D"
"you shouldn't let another writer see your work, he may steal it" norma, looking him up and down "....i'm not afraid"
"i said SIT - DOWN...." music stops, cue joe looking around confused because there's no chair (or set) so he sits on the floor
nicole shaking ass to ALW is fucking hilarious ("PUMP PUMP")
"just how... old is salome?" "sixteen :D"
"i can say anything i want with my EYES"
nicole mouthing "i will kill you" (i think) into the camera
"well i'm pretty busy" "yea i don't care"
"don't you worry about moneyyyyy i'll make it worth your while honayyyy"
"how did you know i was staying here?" and max simply ignores him
"how did it go?" "well, i wish i were dead" real
joe as the uppity/out-of-work hack and betty being the studio smartass lol
while talking to betty, joe turns to the camera - "remember: it's only a movie" dramatic ass lol
when artie invites joe to his new year's party they do a cute handshake
max: "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN" with the camera right in his face
joe's dramatic ass "ohhh god" upon hearing they'll be watching norma's old "weepy melodramas"
honestly joe and norma's dynamic is very much black cat boyfriend/golden retriever girlfriend (except she is crazy) and it's pretty fun in itself
not technically funny, but the way joe holds norma's hand is so precious (in 'today is the day')
norma (pretending?) hyperventilating upon joe saying "its not about the money"
straight up going ("eughh?" at first ijbol)
joe teasing max about who's coming to norma's new years eve party ("maaaax")
"nonono not on the same floor as rudy valentino!"
max giving them party hats and throwing up some confetti with zero emotion
joe and norma doing dorky dances is the cutest thing ever (also "the perfect year" SLAPS thank you ALW)
joe dodging norma's attempt at kissing him so he kinda cradles her head
"there are noooo other guests :) just you :) and me :)))"
"i'm in love with you... surely, you know that, right?" - cue joe's look of :o (shock) bro was SHOOK
at the new year's party, the ensemble is kinda bumping and grinding to 'this time next year'
joe's reaction to betty still pushing along with dark windows - "well hallelujah :|"
some guy passes in front of the camera (while joe is addressing it) with a v sign lol
(act one only bc i'm lazy atm but I WILL come back)
funny things i remember from sunset blvd (2024/jamie lloyd production) - ACT TWO
all of the entr'acte. no, really
max staring at nicole's pictures of her in the pussycat dolls
ensemble member in a low budget monkey costume on da phone
can't forget about andrew lloyd webber's surprise appearance when he replaced his cardboard cutout
one time on 'the walk' tom seems particularly giggly one day, not sure about what
before tom says "shoore i came out here to make my name" he stopped in front of his photo outside of the theatre which hit like crack when his tony nom was announced... not so much after he lost but it is what it is
also the time when people wore birthday hats during the walk on his and nicole's birthday... awww
during the last few walks tom would fist bump people on the way up to the stage wow what a cool guy
"now letsss go up stairsss ;))))"
"its not madame they want. it's her CAR" ".........oh my god"
"you sound like you really hate yourself." get his ass betty
"T. H. E. E. N. D! I did it!" not necessarily funny but the end of the dark windows script has the same lines as norma's final lines in the show.... are betty and joe living in dark windows this whole time? is sunset blvd actually dark windows???
when betty is staring at joe, artie magically appears and rolls his eyes at her and walks away ijbol
peep the random guy snorting coke thank you very much
betty and joe kissing while artie's massive face is crying on the screen behind them lol
"you should go back to artie and marry the FEWL and you'll always be welcome to SWIM IN MY PEWL" oh tom francis your american accent is ever so slightly a disaster but its very endearing
personally i knew nothing about sunset going into it so when they did a full blackout and tom screamed i almost shat myself and the blood did not help
one time tom francis almost slipped in his (fake) blood during bows
april 2025 broadway cares auction - they were auctioning off tom's bloody (and sweaty) tanktop from the show and a woman from the mezzanine shouted that they should auction off his shorts as well. cue a slightly embarassed looking tom and david thaxton saying "the shorts must stay on". also not necessarily funny but the sheer audacity....
fin
summary: joe gillis and norma desmond share a joint
a/n: we are SO back i know i promised to try and do kinktober but uh... well... maybe this year? i'm hoping to put some more time into creative writing as a hobby and i think this is a decent place to start.
cw: drugs, intoxication, non-explicit intimacy
wc: 1.3k | masterlist | ao3
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“I’ve got you something.”
Joe rubs his eyes, exhausted from the hours spent rewriting the same section of Salome. The dim light of the laptop glows like the Sun in the dark room, the real star having fallen below the horizon about an hour before. His sight is only relieved by the small glowing squares of the apartment and office buildings several stories below Norma’s penthouse.
“Hmm..?” He stretches, long arms extending above his head, strained and taut by sitting in the same position for hours, day after day. He’ll have to finish the script sometime. Someday, he thinks, but that day gets further and further out whenever Norma shows up with one of her “surprises.”
Norma drops the unknown item onto his laptop keyboard – a plastic sandwich bag of large mossy nuggets with flecks of darker purples. Even after hours of work, Joe can’t help but be amused through his exhaustion.
He chuckles almost incredously, “You can’t be serious.” Picking up the bag, he inspects it from the outside, cracking it open to take a whiff. It was fresh, slightly breaking apart as he pinched the flower between his fingertips. “I didn’t take you to be the type.”
She’s done a number of baroque things in the past, but it did surprise him to know she was interested in weed. Despite what he previously thought about celebrities indulging in a variety of substances, Norma was too ‘in-her-head’ to concern herself with such things, as if it were beneath her. He saw her tipsy at their New Year’s Eve “party”, but he finds her often to be coping with her own madness in a… peculiar way, having overheard several conversations with her astrologist. She always seemed high up in the clouds, with only Joe to hold her down to Earth.
Rather than responding to him, she giggles mischeviously and snatches the bag out of his hand, feet pounding against the European oak floors as she makes her way into the bedroom. Exhaling, Joe sets his laptop down and follows afer her. As he always does.
Joe walks into the room, nearly missing the quasai-swan dive Norma takes to get into the Alaskan king bed, feet kicking excitedly as she opens the bag herself. Joe settles down on the mattress, sitting next to her as he watches her inspect the product. “Do you even know how to roll?” he askes, with a huff of disbelief that she even wants this in the first place.
Norma looks up at him, a playful glint still sparkling her dark eyes. She rolls over to her bedside, pulling out a ginder and pack of rolling papers. Those certainly weren’t there this morning, Joe mentally catalogues the drawers of the nightstand, an uneasy twinge in his stomach gently chides him for even knowing such things.
Joe has to even wonder why he is still here. He is no more than halfway through his twenties and despite having whatever the hell this is with a faded movie star, his career and life is more at a standstill than he would’ve liked. He himself feels faded and fading away, and opts to remove himself from Artie and others. Texts go unanswered, voicemail box full, emails remain drafted. Norma leaves him with no room to answer, taking up his mouth, forcing him to breathe through his nose. Each passing day he stares at himself, feeling the oldest he has ever felt, as if Norma’s presence ages him. Month after month of writing and rewriting Salome, while continuing to develop his admittedly very rough draft of Bases Loaded, contemplating Dark Windows, acting as Norma’s therapist, Norma’s friend, Norma’s…
Breaking his thoughts, Norma cartoonishly places the items in his large hand, curling her fingers around his to close them. She smiles big, “You will do it.”
A moment later, after fiddling with the mechanism, he steadily grinds down the flower. Joe isn’t inexperienced. He knows how to do this, dammit. He’s been to enough of Artie’s parties (a few in college as well) to know how this works. He has seen it, at least.
“Do you often get in touch with your own mortality?” Norma is stretched out against the pillows like a cat.
Joe clenches his eyes shut in mild frustration, knowing exactly where such conversations lead, and he is nowhere near interested in trying to talk her off of a cliff tonight. Though I could leave it up to Max, Joe thinks, but that is decidedly too cruel even by his standards.
“Norma, please. You shouldn’t think such things if you’re going to do this,” Joe responds in a gruff tone, too much so for his own liking. He takes the paper and pours in some of the grinded flowers, tucking in the filter and rolling gently. He tucks in the paper and gives it shape. Voilà. It’s a bit half assed, but it will work. Just like his scripts, he thinks morosely.
“But isn’t that the exact conversation we should be having while high, Joe?” She inquires, a lazy smile etched on her face. It doesn’t get past Joe that this evening is the most relaxed he has seen her in a long time. New York City is at the doorstep of spring, and he was unsure if she would be able to survive the winter. Or if he would, rather.
He looks at her, some tufts of hair falling infront of his eyes. He won’t bother to entertain this. “No. Not while we are somewhere with a terrace.” At that, Joe digs in his pocket for his lighter, which he continues to carry even after mostly quitting cigarettes. Probably not great for putting off the habit, but it helps if Norma needs one for her own.
He puts the joint between his own lips, flicking the lighter. The paper singes, Joe takes a deep breath in. He breathes twice, ensuring the smoke finds home in his lungs. Pulling the joint away from his mouth, he exhales, blowing out a cloud of smoke. He sinks into the soft mattress, feeling pleased he didn’t manage to embarrass himself by coughing up a lung. It had been awhile, anyways.
Glancing over at Norma, he says, “Quality assurance?” – accompanied by a small smile, barely hinting at smugness.
He takes another drag, and it’s the same. Breathe in, and again, breathe out, relax. After the third or fifth drag, Norma leans up, attempting to grab the joint from him. Joe pulls it out of her reach, playfully.
Fuck it, he’s high. Tenderly, he brings the joint up to her mouth, watching her as she inhales gently. This may be the most gentle he had ever seen her. Her shiny black hair almost blends in with her silk negligee, her cheeks flushing. When she pulls away, her eyes are softly lidded as she exhales. Her tongue runs over her bottom lip slightly as she relaxes her head onto his lap.
He couldn’t help but run his callused fingertips through her hair, gently dragging his nails on her scalp. “Want more?” Joe questions, moving to bring the joint back up to his mouth. Norma stops him, putting her slim fingers around his wrist, pulling the joint back to her mouth.
Exhaling once more, she puts her head in his lap, loosely draping her arms around his waist. She half groans, as if she has a tremendous weight on her lower back. “Joe?”
Having zoned out briefly, he clues back into her and she looks dazed, as if the weed had awakened something in her. Norma is moving gently against him, as if waves of heat move through her body from her core. The buzz darkened her eyes, making her lips slightly ajar as she ran her hand over Joe’s bicep, squeezing gently. “Need you?”
Joe moves over her slowly, inhibited by the high rattling in his brain. He softly kisses the side of her neck, drawing out a sweet, quiet moan from Norma. Normally, he is much too exhausted or perplexed by her to bother, but it’s moments like these that remind him that he is not always as old as he feels. He is a young man, after all.
Pulling her hips underneath his, he slowly runs his hands under the silk as she anchors her arms around his neck. “I’ve got you, Norma.”
minors, DNI! - 18+ only
pairing: dad! bucky barnes x mom! reader
a/n: hello! i saw a prompt/headcanon on here about bucky being a dad and it inspired me to write this! tbh i’m not exactly sure what timeline this takes place in, but imagine all the avengers are together (and alive). this ended up being a bit longer than expected lol, so i hope you all don't mind too much. enjoy!
tags: fluff/smut, pregnancy/getting pregnant, dad! bucky barnes (he is the best dad ever), mom! reader, bucky is overprotective (duh), both reader and bucky have their insecurities going into parenthood, sam wilson, tony stark, wanda maximoff, and steve rodgers (mentioned), baby nicknames (angel, babydoll), f! reader nicknames (baby)
cw: smut (implied breeding, mating press), hickey/love bite (reader receiving), tooth rotting fluff, bucky barnes, descriptions of pregnant bodies and stretch marks (body talk), bucky is still working through his trauma/PTSD with his experiences as the winter soldier
wc: 1.9k | masterlist | ao3
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bucky wasn’t so sure he ever wanted to have kids. it had felt like almost a lifetime (literally) since he last interacted with his own blood relatives, and his memories of this were faint given the amount of brainwashing and memory wiping he had to endure while acting as the winter soldier. he never quite thought about what life would be like with kids, until you mentioned it one day.
it sorta… slipped out. bucky had your knees pressed into the mattress, folding you into a mating press and pounding into your sensitive pussy. one of his strokes hit the deepest, most sensitive spot of your spongy walls causing you to writhe under him and whine out: “bucky, put a baby in me?”
bucky freezes above you, eyes wide open in shock. “fuck, do you really mean that?” he asks, bringing his flesh hand up, rubbing his thumb gently against your cheek.
you gaze up at him with your soft doe eyes. “please?”
bucky groans, sliding back in. “shit, your pussy is so good, baby. keep squeezing my cock like that and i’ll make you a mommy.”
and that’s how you ended up pregnant!
the moment he found out you were pregnant, he insisted on doing everything for you. thirsty? he’s refilling your large water bottle. hungry? he already ordered in your favorite take out. he had always been like this, but it seems like his protectiveness dial turned up to an eleven when you began carrying your child. his child.
born in the 1910s, he's definitely more of a traditional man in the sense that he believes that you shouldn't have to lift a finger to do anything, and this is taken to an extreme during your pregnancy. one day, he caught you moving around furniture for the umteenth time, causing him to wordlessly pick you up and carry your bridal style to your room to plop you into your bed. "we've talked about this, sweetheart," he says softly, grabbing the remote to turn on your favorite show. "bucky, i can still do things myself even if i'm growing our baby!" you insist, settling into bed as you feel your joints grow weary. he leans down to kiss your forehead and cheek, "let me wait on you, darling, it's the least i can do while you carry our angel."
you blink and a few months had passed by. by the end of your second trimester, your belly had grown in size, much to your dismay. of course you had expected this, but a deep seed of insecurity was planted within you seemingly from nowhere. you were racked with negative thoughts of how much your body had been changing, especially as your tummy gains new stretch marks. but bucky never failed to remind you everyday how beautiful you are to him and how he can’t wait to meet the baby soon.
part of bucky was worried that he wouldn’t be a good dad. sure, he had been reading parenting books and getting advice from wanda and tony, he carried a lot of baggage from his time as the winter soldier. bucky has a recurring nightmare that he would be accidentally activated as the winter soldier again and hurt you or the baby, which forces him to wake up in a cold sweat. on nights like these, you hold bucky gently as he falls back asleep, confident that he would never do anything to hurt his family.
one day, you started to create a registry for the baby shower you were planning together. you added the usual things: diapers, wipes, a baby monitor. one day, you went into the document to find that bucky had added some… interesting things. you weren’t quite sure what an “automatic baby feeder” was or where to get “ivory soap.”
bucky was astounded at the amount of baby things that exist now. devices to track the baby’s oxygen levels, baby cameras, sound machines - none of this was around when he or his sisters were born, so shopping was quite an exciting experience for him. when you were feeling up to it, he loved to take you around the city to stroller pop-up shops, admiring how high-tech they’ve gotten in the past 80 years. however, the price tags were… not as thrilling. he fumbles with a tag, brows furrowed: “nothing ever cost this much back in my day,” he grumbles, which you playfully roll your eyes at.
eventually, bucky recruited sam and steve to help baby-proof the house. you didn’t realize that so many baby safety items existed (and you’re sure that tony stark quietly contributed baby proofing items of his own creation), but you realized the baby was going to be more than okay when you locked yourself out of the kitchen cabinets more than a few times.
your little girl was born at 3:00am on a tuesday. bucky would never admit it to you or anyone, but he cried when he first laid eyes on her. he thought he had known what love is between you and the rest of the avengers, but meeting your baby girl had unlocked a new level of love he never knew existed. she was perfect, and no one could take that away from him.
if you thought bucky had been overprotective with you… just wait until you see him with his baby. he practically stared holes through the doctor as he conducted the reflex testing. when she was startled and began cry, bucky took a warning step closer to the doctor and began staring harder, if that was even possible for him. “bucky, honey, let the doctor do his job,” you gently remind him, stroking his arm. “i don’t want him to hurt her,” he grumbles crabbily. he briefly contemplated asking tony for a stark armored car or security to escort you all back from the hospital, but you had talked him down from it.
once you’re home from the hospital, he barely lets the baby out of his sight. without fail, he always reaches the crib first when the baby begins to fuss at night. you suppose you shouldn’t be entirely surprised given that he’s a relatively light sleeper, but by the time you were able to get to the doorway of your bedroom he was already holding her, humming a light tune and rocking her gently back to sleep.
soon enough, she began to roll over on her own and crawl. it broke bucky’s heart to hear her cry when she did tummy time, so he’s more than happy when she progressed past that stage.
one day, when you were all sitting in the living room, you watched her carefully as she stumbled to her feet again. “do you think today will be the day?” you question, watching her attempt to regain her balance. “i’m not sure, she’s been trying for a while now,” bucky answers, still staring down at his tablet. he was concerned that you had been behind on this milestone, so he took it upon himself to research any potential causes. maybe she saw something she wanted, and slowly, she took one step. two. then three. you watch with wide eyes. “bucky!” you quietly whisper, so as not to distract her. “look!”
and there she was, his baby walking on her own. bucky tosses the tablet away, leaning over with his arms out. “come to daddy, pumpkin!” he quietly encourages, face growing into a wide smile. she excitedly shrieks, clapping her hands and walking towards him faster. she collapses in his arms with a giggle. you cheer, clapping your hands together and tearing up. bucky hugs her tightly with a smile, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “she’s growing up so fast,” bucky says, voice shaking with emotion. “i can’t believe she’s walking already.”
soon, that unsteady walking turned into running and running quickly. bucky may be a super soldier, but he’s still 106 years old. and somehow, he can feel every one of those years. he swears he has his back turned for one second and she’s putting his flip phone in her mouth, taking off into another room. sigh.
some time passes and she starts to develop her own little personality. she loves to play in her mommy’s clothes and shoes. she giggles when you lightly dust her little nose with one of your clean make-up brushes. however, she’s grown to be somewhat sassy and stubborn, which you swear up and down she got from her father. bucky chuckles at that. “that’s my girl.”
don’t even get him started on her first day of kindergarten. poor bucky practically begged you to let her stay at home another year. “does she really need kindergarten? she’s already so smart, maybe we can talk them into letting her skip up to first grade next year.” you laugh lightly, reaching over to pat his hand, “this will be good for her social development, bucky.” though he was dreading it, the first day of school snuck upon you. bucky leans against the door frame as he watches you help her put on her little red dress and matching red shoes. bucky’s heart broke extra the way she excitedly ran into the school, realizing that she was growing up far faster than he thought.
most weekends, bucky insists on staying in with her, playing dress up, having tea parties, and watching princess movies. if bucky was honest, he wasn’t the biggest fan of most of these things (particularly the princess films, but you reminded him that she was far too young to watch mad max). bucky would wait longer between haircuts, knowing how much his little girl loved to run a comb through it. there’s nothing he loves more in life than spending time with his little angel.
as bucky did to you, he spoiled his daughter to death. even before she was born, bucky would come home with little outfits for her even if it would be years before she could fit in it. “i saw this at the store and i couldn’t resist,” he says, holding up the little teddy bear onesie and smiling sheepishly. “i couldn’t help but imagine our little boy or girl wearing it.”
the moment she was born, bucky promised himself that he would give you and his babydoll the world. turns out, such a promise carries a hefty price tag. as she discovered more of herself, she wanted to try out dance, basketball, playing piano. bucky was more than happy to foot the bill, even with the ulcer-inducing costs that come with raising a family in new york city. but nonetheless, bucky would hang the moon and stars for his family.
bucky loves to watch you and her have ‘mommy and me’ play dates. he chuckles lightly as his angel attempts to push him with all her might out of her bedroom. “no boys allowed!” she shrieks behind the closed door, breaking into giggles after. he smiles watching you help her make pancakes one lazy saturday morning.
behind closed doors, bucky wants to spoil you in more ways than one. you’re such a good mommy to their little angel and he can barely restrain himself from practically pouncing on you after a long day out.
“fuck, baby, i love you so much,” he grits out between deep thrusts. you reach up to hold onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his flesh. “please, bucky, i can’t take anymore!” you whimper out, a warm feeling blooming at the base of your stomach as you try not to cum too early.
“you’re so good to me, lemme give you another one. a son, maybe?” you flush, gazing into his crystal blue eyes with that same look that got you pregnant a few years prior. you slide your hands up behind his neck, lacing your fingers with one another. you nod rapidly, “give it to me, bucky. please cum inside me.”
he leans in, sucking a deep red mark into your neck. “your pussy is so perfect, like it was made for me. now, hold still while i fuck another baby into you. let me give you that son that you deserve.”
and, unsurprising to no one, bucky’s seeds were planted well. you’re pregnant… again.
