#but this at least gets some of the vibes across

[goldfades]

CINDERELLA───JOE BURROW

request: "Reader is going out with girlies and dressed sexy that joe almost got mad at reader cuz he doesn’t want reader going out with that dress and suddenly obsessed with boobies and told reader they cant breath in that dress" for @crispppykreme

The dress wasn’t new, but it might as well have been, given how long it had languished at the back of your closet. A slinky little thing, sleek black with a neckline that danced on the edge of scandal and just enough shimmer to catch the light in all the right places. It was the kind of dress that didn’t just suggest confidence—it demanded it.

You were proud of how you looked, admiring yourself in the full-length mirror, twisting slightly to check every angle. The effort had paid off: hair done, makeup sharp, heels that made your legs look miles long. Tonight was about the girlies, a rare night out that wasn’t dinner and wine but cocktails and dancing, the kind of carefree, late-night escapades you hadn’t had in months.

Joe had been fine about it earlier, or at least you thought he had. There was an absentminded “Have fun, baby,” thrown your way when you’d mentioned your plans this morning. But now, as his eyes scanned you from head to toe like he was taking inventory, you could feel the tension radiating off him from across the room.

“You’re really wearing that?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an edge that made you freeze mid-reach for your clutch. You turned slowly, eyebrow raised, trying to read the expression on his face.

“Uh, yeah? What’s wrong with it?” You kept your tone light, playful, even though the way he was looking at you made your skin prickle. Joe wasn’t one to throw around his opinions about your outfits, and honestly, you appreciated that about him. He knew you had your own style, your own vibe. But tonight? Something about tonight had apparently made him forget that.

He stepped closer, his hand running down his face as he let out a slow, deliberate sigh. “It’s not that it’s bad. It’s just…” His gaze dropped to your chest, and he gestured vaguely in that direction. “That dress. I mean, are you sure it’s comfortable? They—uh, you—don’t look like you can even breathe in it.”

For a second, you just blinked at him, your brain scrambling to catch up. Then it hit you, and the corner of your mouth twitched despite yourself.

“Oh,” you said, the teasing lilt unmistakable. “That’s what this is about.”

Joe crossed his arms, clearly trying to play it cool, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “I’m just saying. It’s kind of… tight, don’t you think?”

You couldn't stop the grin spreading across your face, even as Joe tried—and failed—to keep his cool. He was too easy to read, the faint crease between his brows giving him away completely.

“Oh, come on,” you teased, grabbing your clutch and turning back toward the mirror. “You’ve seen me wear tighter.”

“That’s not the point,” he shot back, his voice firmer now, enough to make you glance at him in the mirror. He was standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe like some kind of judgmental Greek statue, all broad shoulders and furrowed brows.

“Then what is the point, Joe?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m getting the vibe that it’s not about how tight this dress is.”

He huffed, running a hand through his hair in that way he always did when he was trying to sort through his words. “The point is,” he said slowly, “you’re going out looking like… like that. And I know exactly how guys are gonna act when they see you.”

You turned around now, giving him your full attention. “Guys? Plural? Is that what this is about?”

“It’s not about guys,” he said quickly, but the words came out too rushed, too defensive. He shifted his weight, unfolding his arms, clearly trying to walk the line between annoyed and reasonable. “It’s about… I don’t know. I just don’t want anyone thinking they can look at you like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, stepping closer, biting back a laugh as you pressed your palm to his chest. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your hand, but you could feel the tension in him.

“Like… like you’re up for grabs or something.” His jaw clenched, and his eyes darted away from yours, like saying it out loud embarrassed him.

You blinked, genuinely taken aback for a moment. “Joey,” you said, softening your tone, “you realize that’s not how this works, right? Just because I look good doesn’t mean I’m inviting attention. And even if someone does look—so what? I’m coming home to you.”

His eyes flicked back to yours at that, softening slightly, but his lips pressed into a stubborn line. “Yeah, but you’re mine,” he muttered, the words barely audible but so pointed they hung heavy in the air.

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. “Yours?” you repeated, shaking your head in disbelief. “What, are you going to put a sticker on me that says ‘Property of Joe Burrow’?”

He groaned, his hand raking through his hair again. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Do I?” you shot back, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Because it kinda sounds like you’re saying I can’t wear what I want unless it gets your approval.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all!” he said quickly, but the way his ears were turning pink made you think he was second-guessing himself.

“Then what?” you asked, crossing your arms now, mirroring his earlier stance. “Because, if you think I’m changing out of this dress just because it makes you nervous, you’ve got another thing coming.”

He stared at you for a moment, his jaw working, clearly torn between frustration and surrender. “It’s not nervous,” he mumbled finally. “It’s just… look, you’re too damn sexy, okay? There. I said it. And I'm not there to make sure nobody thinks they can have you.”

You raised an eyebrow, your grin growing wider. “Ohhh, I see,” you said, dragging out the words. “So, this isn’t about the dress at all. It’s about you being jealous.”

His face scrunched like he wanted to deny it, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he settled for muttering, “I’m not jealous.”

“Right,” you said, stepping closer to him again. “Because you’re totally fine with me going out looking like a ‘damn goddess,’ as I’m sure some guy at the bar is going to say.”

Joe groaned again, tipping his head back against the doorframe. “Do you have to do this?”

“Yes,” you said brightly, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Because it’s fun watching you squirm.”

He sighed, his hands finally coming to rest on your hips, pulling you in closer. “I’m serious, though,” he said, his voice lower now, quieter. “You look amazing. Too amazing. And I trust you—I do—but that doesn’t mean I trust every drunk guy who’s gonna see you tonight.”

“I can handle drunk guys,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And besides, you know I’d never let anyone get too close.”

“I know,” he admitted, resting his forehead against yours. “I just hate the idea of someone thinking they even have a chance.”

“Well, they don’t,” you said simply, smiling up at him. “You’re the only one who gets to peel me out of this dress later.”

His lips twitched into a smirk at that, and you could feel some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Yeah, you’re damn right I am.”

You grinned, giving him another quick peck on the lips before stepping back. “Now, are you done being dramatic, or do I need to remind you that this is my night out?”

He sighed, letting his arms drop but not stepping back. “Fine,” he said, though his tone still had a hint of reluctance. “But if you’re not home by midnight, I’m calling.”

You laughed, grabbing your Chanel clutch and heading for the door. “Sure, Cinderella. Whatever you say.”

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[noideabutsims]

Donut Co. Rainboho-tastic Throw Rugs

Simmers, Prepare for a Rainbow Explosion of Cozy Comfort! 🌈💥

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So ditch those boring, beige carpets and embrace a world of color and imagination! Donut Co.'s Rainboho-tastic Throw Rugs are here to transform your Sims' homes into havens of playful charm. Download them today and let the good vibes flow! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Some images have my reshade on - the blueish tint means NO reshade!*** If you are interested in my reshade, or want to see how much it changes the color - you can find it here: https://www.tumblr.com/noideabutsims/763209634729345024/remember-those-days-reshade-preset-guess-what?source=share *****RUGS IN GAME HAVE BEEN SIZED UP USING [ + ] KEYS!***** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Has 2 swatches New mesh

All of our CC can be found by typing " Donut " into the search bar! Name: Donut Co. Rainboho-tastic Throw Rugs Buy Mode Description: "Simmers, get ready to inject a dose of rainbow magic into your Sims' homes with Donut Co.'s Rainboho-tastic Throw Rugs! These aren't just rugs, they're portals to a world of whimsy and wonder, where shooting stars dance across the sky and rainbows nestle amongst fluffy clouds.

Imagine your Sims sinking their toes into the soft, plush pile, feeling the joy of childhood with every step. These vibrant creations are perfect for adding a pop of personality to any room, from nurseries and playrooms to bedrooms and living areas.

So ditch those boring, beige carpets and embrace a world of color and comfort! Donut Co.'s Rainboho-tastic Throw Rugs are here to transform your Sims' homes into a haven of playful charm." Will be releasing more content soon! stay tuned! ❤️ (NOT affiliated with EA or Maxis in any way! We just make CC!) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ DOWNLOAD: Curseforge: https://legacy.curseforge.com/sims4/build-buy/donut-co-rainboho-tastic-throw-rugs Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/116722524 Google Drive: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ihTWnoNa9pIqoTEkBqSbaiKzi3PZL7rP/view?usp=sharing ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Due to financial issues and our promise of never paywalling our content; We have to ask that you guys download on our curseforge if you are willing and able. Just using their site to download makes us be able to have at least a small income that helps us when things get tough - however no matter where you download; we genuinely appreciate every download regardless!! If you can, you can find our curseforge here!: https://legacy.curseforge.com/members/the_lady_gaia/projects @alwaysfreecc @maxismatchccworld

[kemendin]

Kem's non-spoilery/non-plot-related impressions on Veilguard:

Now that I finished a first run, I want to just put some thoughts out there - basically likes/dislikes sort of thing. So here we go! In no particular order:

Likes:

This is very subjective of course, but to me it just FEELS like Dragon Age. It's nostalgic in the vibes and mechanics while also being fresh.

Hair physics!! Me gleefully watching my boy's ponytail flipping around like 'yessss gooood'. Every game needs this imo xD

Companions: While I'm personally not going feral over any of them, I do LIKE them all, which is unusual for me. I love the shouted encouragement in combat, and how they move around the Lighthouse and have little snippets of conversations with each other (wish we got MORE of this).

I adore the environments and maps. I love exploring new places in Thedas, they're all so gorgeously detailed, and I love the LAYERS of them. The exploration feels very Assassin's Creed, which is fun for me. Docktown is my favourite I think, but Arlathan and the Crossroads are also stunning.

I'm a sucker for the elven relic puzzles, they make me happy!

Combat: It took a while for me to adjust, particularly coming from BG3 where I had time to deliberate my decisions. But once I got into the rhythm of it, I now find Veilguard combat quite fun. (I played as a sword and shield warrior this first run, I'm excited to see what a mage feels like next time around)

PHOTOMODE!!! At least a third of my playtime has definitely been spent taking screenshots. It has almost everything I want - camera angles, depth of field, field of view. SO MANY SCREENSHOTS! (1800 at last count)

Dislikes:

Save system. Generous auto-saves are great, but I hate how you get bumped to the nearest beacon when you load in, rather than where you actually left off. Also I'm a save scummer so 100 manual saves is not enough lol.

Main menu being the only functional 'pause' button is irritating, especially when trying to get into photomode.

Armour/outfit stuff. I'm sorry but most of the designs are terrible. TERRIBLE. Also there's no dye/tint system, at least Inquisition had SOMETHING to that effect.

Pacing. I feel like the stories in the game had so many good notes, but it felt.... disjointed, like it was just hitting the main beats rather than creating a cohesive narrative flow. Across the board, it felt rushed and shallow in that respect. Also (and maybe this is just a me thing) it felt really difficult to get a handle on the passage of time throughout the game.

Ambivalent: The character creator. Lots of great sliders and options, but also I kinda hate the 'mash three heads together' thing, and I don't know why we need 50 styles of eyelashes instead of, I dunno, more hair options? (also - body hair. Needs body hair)

I may add to this as more thoughts occur, but for now that's what I've got. Overall impression - positive! I had a great time and I'll be replaying for sure.

[boszbichblitzo]

There was a teasing remark on the tip of Blitz's tongue but he managed to bite it back and keep it to himself. Moxxie was complimenting him, he didn't need to go and make it worse by insulting him in return. As tempting as it was. "Eh, at least your shitty dad makes you seem cooler and more dangerous, mine's just an asshole who never gave two shits about me."

The touch to his shoulder caused Blitz to tense, but he didn't pull away. This.... was the kind of comfort and support he'd been craving for.... fuck, for years, honestly. But it still felt weird, asking or even just receiving support without giving something in return and he could feel anxiety prickling up his spine as that insecure voice in the back of his head began whispering that even something as small as this would come with a cost. "Y-yeah.... I know you do. Thanks Moxx. I got yours too–– even if.... it maybe seems like I'm the only one fuckin' with you most of the time."

As Moxxie continued, a soft smile spread across Blitz's face. It certainly the same kind of gentle pep talk Millie had given in that hotel room, but.... it felt right coming from him. Their relationship wasn't as mutually, chaotically supportive as his friendship with Millie, there was more of a sibling rivalry vibe between them, but the dynamic just worked. "You wanna know a secret?" Blitz started, his smile brightening just a little. "I don't even know what's going on in my head half the time." Probably not the most comforting thought he could leave Moxxie with considering his unfettered access to the company's finances, but the worst had already happened there, so how much worse could it get, really? Some of the tension left him as the other man finished and his smile dimmed slightly but didn't fade completely. "I appreciate you tryin' to let me off the hook for that shit, Moxx, but I did actually fuck.... some of them over. Some of the assholes at that party I didn't even know though, fuck those guys."

“That’s Millie for you~” There was a fond warmth in his voice that flowed into a soft chuckle of amusement, “I heard you took it like a champ though - I’m not sure I would’ve survived a beating like that from Mills,” Truly, the woman was a force to be reckoned with. Was it bad that he found that undeniably hot? Ugh. It really ought to be embarrassing how whipped he was for his wife. The smaller imp nodded his head slowly, agreeing with the sentiment, “Sharing shit IS hard” he confessed, “I’d be a huge hypocrite if I judged you for that, sir, considering how I never told you that my dad was a shitty mob boss,”

Moxxie did, unfortunately, know how possessor demons worked — luckily, not through personal experience. It was…well, fucked up, there wasn’t really any more articulate way to express it. A little unsure if he was allowed, but accepting any fall out and following his instincts anyway, he reached up a hand to place comfortingly on Blitz’s shoulder. “Blitz, possessor demons, for the most part, are, like, preprogrammed to be parasitic pieces of shit…” he paused a moment, clearing his throat softly to keep his voice steady, “I just…Millie was there to step in, right? and if it were to happen again…If anything were to happen…I mean, you know that we’ll always be there, right? I…maybe I don’t say it enough, but we all have your back — I mean, I-I have your back”

A soft, thoughtful, frown crossed Moxxie’s features as Blitz more or less apologised for all the shit that’d happened in the past few months. The fall out with Stolas and that party had really impacted him. “It’s been a wild ride,” he admitted with a small sigh, “You’re wild and erratic…and-and sometimes I have no fucking clue what’s going on in your head. You drive me fucking nuts…but, you want to know something? If you weren’t you…with all of your scars and your harebrained schemes, then…well, we wouldn’t be where we are today. I...well, I might not even be here…like, at all.” What kind of imp was insane enough to create their own company? Navigate a deal to traverse the human world to boost profits? Who else would pour all of themselves into their stupid, little, dysfunctional family? To give a chance to the heartbroken, cry-baby, gunslinger that happened to fall into his path? “So, trust me when I say, if you being less of a mess would make you less…well, anything, then I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and deal with your bullshit.” he then paused for a moment before adding, “…anyway, most of the losers at that party barely know you, Blitz. I’ve been at your side for years now, I like to think I’m the leading expert in Blitz bullshit, so take my word for it, okay? They’re full of shit”

[roserefrain]

shuffles in here shyly. the new guys….

picrew link

[leslieseveride]

they really weren't kidding about the rom-com vibes in this season.

[massivementalitynut]

My Valentine's Day comm of Adam from @iwanttobeaseme

[sonknuxadow]

also by read the comics i mean ACTUALLY read them. not gotten an idea of what scourge is like through fanart/fanfic or scanned some wiki pages or something

[darabeatha]

/ I've noticed that at this point I'm not even writing on any blog anymore, I just come and yell about some blorbo and leave. Rinse and repeat my lieges

[halforcdad]

ngl seeing the way some fans have been speaking on yasmine’s absence this season has been so upsetting like you have grown adults out here really wishing for her to get kicked off her other show (and being disappointed that she isn’t! in this economy!) because some unfortunate scheduling conflicts got in the way of filming s2. it’s one thing to miss your favorite character, but it’s another to wish for someone to lose a job over it (tacking on “glad she stays booked and busy though” at the end of these posts hardly makes it come across any better) 

it’s not like you constantly see poc actors getting work that doesn’t force them to be anything more than stereotypical one-dimensional villains of the week or guest characters that get maybe 5 lines, let alone getting booked consistently, so it should be a good thing seeing an actor you like (especially a woc actor) staying busy and having other projects to work on (and she’s not the only one on the show to do that obviously, they’re actors they gotta make a living outside of the show too)

and there’s also people who talk about lucy's absence like it’s the writers’ fault that she’s not in the episodes, like it was the writers’ decision to just randomly write off one of their regulars and one half of their main couple for half a season. i think it’s fair to say that the writing has been hit-or-miss for s2 (and it’s definitely shakier in episodes where lucy’s absent) and you’re allowed to be dissatisfied with that and critique it, but there’s a difference between critiquing the writing and looking for someone to blame (critiquing the story reasons they’ve written for lucy being out/lack of lucy mentions in the interim vs. blaming the writer’s for leaving lucy out of an episode when yasmine just wasn’t available to film).

i know everyone’s frustrated and afraid of a repeat of s2 where she’s gone for half the season, but that doesn’t excuse anyone from acting like this lol. she’s a series regular, i doubt they’d let her continually miss half the season every season especially for a show she’s not a main character on.

[kurthorton-moving]

feeling very 🧍‍♂️ may not be around for a bit

[littleeyesofpallas]

2023

2022

2021

2020

2019

comic RiSky(リスキー)

INFLU-en-SA.[インフル怨サー。]: "INFLUENZA"(grudge)

Shintaikaizou RECIPE[身体改造レシピ]: Body Modification RECIPE

DEATH CAPE[デスケイプ！]

Dokuoya-Kaigo[毒親介護] ToxicParent ElderlyCare

Fukushuu CHANNEL URAMIN[復讐チャンネル ウラミン]: Revenge CHANNEL

Kedamono-tachi no Shikan[けだものたちの時間]: The Hour of Beasts

Musume, haishinshimasu[娘、配信します。]: Daughter, (internet)Streaming

Yuuhei Shojo[幽閉少女] Confinement Girl

Aoi Zameta Senritsu[蒼ざめた旋律]: Pale Blue Melody

Kongai SEX [婚外セックス] Extramarital SEX

Dokohe…[何処へ…]: Where (are you going)…

Modoi no Mori[惑いの森]: Forest of Delusion

Koseki no Nai-ko[戸籍のない子] Family Register's Nonexistant-Child

INFLU-en-SA.[インフル怨サー。]: "INFLUENZA"(grudge)

Midare Karakuri[乱れからくり]: Disorder Mechanism

Shura no Sumika[修羅の棲家]: Asura's House

Shirahana no Mai[白花の舞] Dance of the White Flower

POWA-HARA de "Utsu" ni Narimoshita[パワハラで“うつ”になりました]: Power-Harassment made me "Depressed"

Korosu Shoujo no Riyuu[殺す少女の理由] The Motive(s) of Murder Girl

YAMI Kawasaki[ヤミ川崎]: Dark Kawasaki

Tokutei Han[特定犯]: A Specific Criminal

Kusuburu Shitto[くすぶる嫉妬]: Smouldering Envy

MORA-HARA Otto wa SNS Chuudoku[モラハラ夫は sns 中毒]: Moral-Harassment Husband has a SocialNetworkService Addiction

Furueru Me[震える眼]: Trembling Eyes

UraAKA ni Korochireru[裏アカに殺される]: Killed from an Anonymous Account

Kawaii ATASHI no Kasegikata[かわいいアタシの稼ぎ方]: Cute Me(fem)'s way of Earning

PERSIA Neko o Kau Onna[ペルシャ猫を飼う女]: Persian Cat keeping Woman

PART Murahachibu[パート村八分]: Part Ostracism

NON DRAMA[ノン・ドラマ]

Minato-ku Kounan TOWER-MAN(SION) 35kai[港区港南タワマン35階]: Minato-Ward HighRise Condo 35F

[birdchildsnest]

#the funnier thing is that so many of the Rogues HATE Dick lmao #Two-Face. Riddler. Talia. several others just flat out dislike the OG Boy Wonder. But Tim? nah they like him #remember when Lonnie Machin was like 'yeah okay I'll work with you. sure. why not?' after Tim saved him from Armstrong? via @fantastic-nonsense

I see a lot of fanon-y posts about rogues having a soft spot for the Batkids and kind of looking out for them, especially Harley and Ivy since they're completely defanged now, but all of that truly pales in comparison to whatever Lady Shiva has going on with Tim.

"I respect your moxie, kid. someday when you're an adult let's fight to the death." they're fascinating.

from Green Arrow #135 (1998)

[mostly-imagines]

Guard Dog vol.I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend

4 in 1 blurbs

vol. II

warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods

Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.

He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.

And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.

With other people though, he has…different methods.

You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.

You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.

His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.

“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.

A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.

Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.

Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.

Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.

“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.

Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.

“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.

The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”

“Mhm.” He grumbles.

The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.

“Jay?”

His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”

You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.

“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.

He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.

You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.

His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.

You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.

Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.

He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.

Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.

“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.

Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”

“Thank God.”

Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.

His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.

“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”

Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).

You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.

Fuck he loves you.

Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist with yours rested on his thighs as you told him about your hectic day.

He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.

You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.

You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.

“Hey there.”

You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.

"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."

Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.

"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"

"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.

Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.

With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.

"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”

You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.

Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.

Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.

But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.

"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."

“She—”

“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”

The guy hesitates.

“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.

That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”

Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.

He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.

“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.

“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.

You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”

He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.

“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”

He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.

“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.

You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.

“Jaybird!”

Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.

You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.

So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.

You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”

"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.

He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.

You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.

Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.

You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.

You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.

"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.

Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.

“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.

He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.

If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.

He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.

You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.

So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.

vol. II

[navybrat817]

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[touchlikethesun]

i keep forgetting i'm not in uni anymore and i can't just knock on the doors of ppl that sound like they're having fun... :'(