(what if i

shit i just want to go to like……. an isolated little town on the coast of like england where the waves crash against the cliffs and send up a spray and it’s always a little rainy and dreary and the green is so green with dew and life and the houses are small and cozy and always smell like baked bread and tea and it’s perpetually foggy outside and i can wear sweaters forever and read a book by the fireplace or out in the garden and it sort of just smells ancient and where everyone just minds their own business and life is good and once in a while i bike to the nearest village with a market and spend the day shopping around and maybe i’ll have a dog who likes to follow me around and we just….. live

anonymous asked:

Sub harry who is just discovering his kinks and your fucking him one day and put your hand on his neck and he says tighter in a breathy little whimper and so you do and that's how he finds out he likes getting choked


okay so he’s come home from a day of recording at the studio and he’s all tuckered out but feeling really needy as well so he practically begs you to fuck him.

He’s so docile you don’t even need to tie him down. He’s laying out all sweaty across the bed, sheer black shirt unbuttoned all the way and his pants and briefs are discarded on the floor at the end of the bed. You’re riding him hard and fast, bouncing on his cock roughly with the back of your thighs slapping down on his, feeling his balls against your ass every time you sink down. His arms are above his head, splayed out limply with his fingers messing at the ends of his mussed up hair, whining softly as you bite down his neck and scratch up his chest, blowing on the stinging red lines and causing him to whimper all throaty and high.

“God, you’re amazing, y'know that?” Harry’s voice is soft and timid, eyes glued to your chest hungrily as it bounces in your perky lace bra– one he’d bought you at a fancy boutique when he was off shooting for the film in France.

“And you’re extremely thick. Did you know that?” You drag your lips sloppily down the spine of the butterfly tattoo, tongue peeking out to lap at one of his puffy nipples.

He answers with a short, wispy hiccup of, “Maybe.”

Your arms are holding his elbows down against the mattress, making sure he doesn’t move to touch you. Your knees are pressed up against his hips to give you balance as you slam down on him, his entire body jolting against the bed, cracked moans and soft keening stuttering from the heavy movement. He looks absolutely enthralling, with his cheeks tinted rose and his big green eyes all doe-like and innocent, swollen bottom lip tucked under his front two teeth as he thrums out shaky hums of gratitude, filled with, “Fuck me so good, darling. No one takes m'cock like you do.” and “You’re so tight, peach. Snug little cunt gonna fuckin’ ruin me for good, innit? Gonna make your baby boy come so hard it hurts…”

You’re hand reaches towards his neck out of instinct, fingers wrapping around the back as your thumb presses softly against his bobbing Adam’s Apple, using your palm to bring him towards your mouth. You keep his throat stuck to your lips, teeth sinking in sweetly and marking deep purple bruises into his soft, tanned skin. Something to look forward to seeing on him tomorrow morning as he’s spread out over the pillows with the side of his face pasted to the cushion, hair in a fluffy, wild halo with the sheets hanging low on his hips, revealing all of the maroon and violet love bites scattered down the tight muscles of his back, across his broad shoulders and speckling his delicate neck.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t realized you’d tightened your grip, thumb pressing down harder into his juglar and causing his breathing to shutter.

You immediately release your hold, apologies spilling from your lips as you kiss at his flushed ears with care, worried to death.

“More.” Harry’s croak is airy and quaking, but insistent nonetheless.

You stare at him for a second, surprised by the new development. But you grant him his wish, wrapping your fingers around his throat and tightening like before. “Like this?”

He nods feverishly, suckling his bottom lip into his mouth, bright, canopy green eyes rolling into the back of his head as the edges of his mouth twitch up into a teeny, satisfied smile. “Jus’ like that.”

You continue rocking against him, other hand cradling the side of his face as you gradually close your fingers further around his neck, relying on his body language and sounds of pleasure to guide you on this new territory. And what a discovery this is.

Harry looks incredibly sexy with his head tilted all the way back against the pillow, jaw flexing alluringly as his ruby lips are parted, heavy whimpers and short gasps rawing his lungs. His eyes are barely cracked open, heavy lashes brushing the tops of his simmering cheeks as he looks down on you with so much lust it burns. He pouts his bottom out pleadingly, talking meekly. “Can I have a kiss?”

You respond by flushing your lips against his, tongue dipping in teasingly and pulling out to skim his upper lip temptingly, drawing a deep, needy whine from him, air puffing out shallow and quivering.

“Such a naughty boy. Getting kinkier ever day, y'know that?“

Harry returns your comment with a coy grin, tilting his head forward so that your fingertips dig deeper against his throat, bruising himself in the process and smiling as he feels the marks blossoming. He softens his eyes into looking all watery and innocent, but you can see a devilish glint in the specks of gold that shimmer in his irises.

“And you’re a pretty little thing with a tight cunt and a knack for returning my kinks. Did you know that?”

Here’s a couple hundred words of sambucky fluff that I’ve been holding onto for no good reason.

It’s mornings like this when that make Bucky fully understand how easy it is to love Sam.

Sam’s still sleeping, half sprawled out with his head resting on Bucky’s chest. The warm sun is streaming over his naked back. His skin looks golden and warm. He has a few freckles that dance across his loose muscles. Bucky draws lazy circles in his skin, connecting the dots.

Sam’s lips are parted just so, his sour morning breath hot on Bucky’s face. He looks so peaceful and beautiful when he’s sleeping. Christ. It really takes Bucky’s breath away most of the time.

Bucky does this a few times a week, stare at Sam while he sleeps. He can’t help but do it. They’ve been together a few years now, since right after he was deprogrammed in Wakanda. They’ve been back in New York for almost two years. Steve retired and left Sam his shield. Bucky was more than thrilled that he wasn’t considered for the duty. He is almost completely back to himself but he’ll never be as together as Sam is. Bucky wonders if anyone will be as together as Sam is, as wonderful or as beautiful. He doubts it.

Sam stirs and starts to blink his eyes open. They’re glassy and puffy from sleep. Bucky smiles down at him sweetly.

“Mornin’” Sam croaks.

“Hey, Sleepyhead.”

Sam huffs a tiny laugh. “I bet it’s not even nine in the morning.”

Bucky leans past Sam to check the time. “9:15, actually.”

Sam squirms up until he’s able to kiss Bucky, then does. “You think the world’s gonna need saving today?”

Bucky’s not technically an avenger, but with Sam being Cap it’s all he can do but to tag along on every mission or catastrophic event just to keep Sam safe. Steve does too sometimes. It feels good for Bucky to do what he’s good at for the sake of the world. Doing it without the fame of being an avenger is his way of repentance, he supposes.

“I sure hope not.” Bucky says, kissing Sam again softly. “I have big plans for us that don’t include leaving this bed.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

They kiss for a while, just lazy, mostly breathing nasty morning breath into each other’s mouths. Bucky thinks that maybe this is his favorite part about being this in love with someone- the gritty stuff, the stuff that isn’t cute or romantic. It’s peeing with the bathroom door open. It’s being gross. It’s kissing Sam when he has a cold. It’s kicking your stinky boots off and hopping into bed.

Bucky’s never been able to just let go more than he can now. He’ll love Sam forever for it, he’s sure