#i'm sorry this took so long nonnie!

[smoosey]

Unseasonable, for your prompts. <3

"It wasn't supposed to rain today," Obi-Wan comments, but in truth it's lovely, lovely, the midsummer rain light and cool and misty where they walk under the wide sweep of the stars, belly full, warm and tipsy and flushed and alive.

"We've had worse surprises," Cody says from beside him, and Obi-Wan laughs, because the Force is singing all around him, and Cody is beautiful in the rain, and there's something buoyant in his chest that makes him feel young again and quite in love with every star and raindrop, the wide galaxy and every soul that shines in the Light of the Force.

Cody's watching him laugh, eyes warm and dark, and then he's taking his hand, leading him into an alcove where Obi-Wan lets himself be sheltered by his heat. Obi-Wan raises his robe over them, and kisses him in a hallowed space, alone with Cody's smiling lips and reverent hands and his good, good heart.

(AKA: I saw this gif and lost by entire mind...)

[intheorangebedroom]

What kind of kinks do we think Frankie has? 🤔

Hey Nonnie! Again, I'm glad you asked!

But first thing first: 

🧡HAPPY ❤️‍🔥FRANKIE❤️‍🔥 FRIDAY🧡

@frannyzooey and I actually discuss this on a regular basis, and if you haven't yet, you should run over to her blog and read her entire Frankie masterlist (especially Taste, very relevant in this context). Because it’s all there, and it’s so much better than anything I could ever dream of achieving. 

This said, please do stay here a little longer 😬

Explicit thoughts below the cut 🔞

​I know it’s a general fandom consensus that Frankie is an avid and thorough pussy eater, and yes, I’m sure he is. But’s there is so much more to him.

Frankie’s a confident man. Quietly so, but definitely assertive. 

Discreet, calm, collected, he can be commanding, even threatening when he needs to. 

Possessive, but not jealous, he strives above all to protect, provide and care for you. Because this man loves you with everything he’s got, and because Frankie’s ultimate kink is… you. 

Anything and everything, from the fire in your eyes when you discuss something you’re passionate about, to the needy tuck of your body into his side when you get mean Sunday scaries. From the scent of your hair lingering on his pillow to the tangy taste of your skin at the end of the day. From your out-of-tune singing when a song you love comes up on the truck's radio, to the low thrumming and soft quiver of your pulse between his lips.

He loves you self-confident or vulnerable. He loves you standing tall or feeling small.

So I think what truly gets Frankie off, more than anything, is when his love has fostered enough sense of safety in you that you'll ask him for what it is that you truly want. Or better yet, when you take it from him. 

When you want it slow, silent and breathy, locked eyes and a press of your sweat-damp foreheads, calloused hands surprisingly soft in their span of your skin. 

When you want to be crushed underneath him and have him set the pace. 

When you need it rough, relentless, unforgiving. When you want him to curl his thick fingers around your nape and sink your mouth down on his hard length. When you want him to lick the makeup-stained tears off your cheekbone. When you need his grip on the swell of your ass to turn painful. When you want his teeth on your neck, his spit in your mouth, his come on your face.

When you ride his face without shame with a sharp tug of his hair until he bands his arms around your thighs hard enough to bruise. 

When you straddle him, your gorgeous tits bouncing in your frantic sway over him, for a while, at least, before he cups them to knead and pinch, when you writhe and whine because “it’s too much.” 

Just like Frankie knows his worth, he knows his size. And that too is a kink, it’s all about what it can do to you, for you.

He likes to thicken between your fingers, your eyes growing wide because you’re not sure, even after all this time, if you’ll be able to take it. 

Loves to rub his cock onto your stomach to show you just how deep he’s gonna reach. 

Loves to inch into you slowly and see sweat beading over your pinched brow with the effort, loves the sound of your tight cunt parting around him, he knows how it tastes too, eyes strained on your entrance catching along the girth of him, the music of your strained moans, loves to talk you through it, alright baby, come on now, you know you can take it.

When you’re burning with want and with need, when you’re pliant under his hands or rigid around his hips, chasing your release, sweat and slick and sticky, when you’re liquid inside, a rope pulled taut between your core and your heart that rips your inside out, when you’re blooming in shades of orange, when you plant your hands on his chest and demand "Make me come Francisco," that's his greatest kink.

[morrigan-sims]

Hi! :3 I'm sorry but I don't know the names for most of the things I'm asking for so this may be a confusing read :{ basically yknow that one character rook that you've been using as a dnd character? I really like his corset thingy majig or like top that hes wearing but I can't find it anywhere :( do you remember where you got it? or what its called?

Hi nonny!!! No worries! You got it right! I've been calling them corsets in my head too. My beloved idiot bastard man looks so good in them, and I'm sure your sims will too!!! 💖

I'm not sure which corset shirt you're talking about, bc he's worn two. I'm going to assume you're talking about this one from my most recent CAS pics (which my best friend, Ash @heyastra, calls his "slut shirt")

You can find that one here. (reuploaded bc the original is paywalled)

but in case you're not looking for that one, there's also this one from the Hanged Man render and my earlier CAS pic of him.

Which you can find Here.

[boasamishipper]

Hi, I’m intrigued by the Night Court content I’m seeing from you. How did you start up with this show from 40 years ago? Which episodes give you Harry/Dan vibes? (Truly curious! I’m watching the show rn on FreeVee because of you.)

how did i begin watching night court, you ask?

okay so the story ACTUALLY begins several months earlier. i'd been seeing ads for new night court on tv, and i was like hey!! that's the guy from richie rich!! and so i looked up old night court on tvtropes and ao3, found some fics for the show, skimmed them, and moved on with my life.

THEN in november 2023 i got laid off (corporate reorgs my detested) (dw i have since found a new job) and started looking for non-indeed.com ways to fill my hours. cue another commercial for new night court, which was returning to nbc in january. huh, thought i, jokingly. wonder if anybody on here watches this.

one quick tumblr search informed me that there were, in fact, other people who watched this show. specifically the original show. and then i saw this post, thought 'boy that judge and that prosecutor sure have Something going on' and proceeded to devour all nine seasons over the course of two months. (then i caught up with the reboot and watched s2 as it aired.) i posted my first fic, Zeitnot, nine days after i started watching the show, and told my bestie caroline that now that it was up, i had gotten all of my night court thoughts and feelings out of my system and would shortly go back to finishing my other wips.

(narrator voice) she did not, in fact, get all her night court thoughts and feelings out of her system.

anyway so 90k+ words of night court fic later here i Still Am and here i Still Plan To Be for a good long while.

so why night court?

well, to begin, it's the wildest show i have ever seen in my life. it's set in - you guessed it - the night shift of a manhattan arraignment court during the 1980s. the judge (harry stone, played by harry anderson) is a gangly goofy cutie pie dork who loves magic and mel torme and sees the best in people and has the saddest backstory of any of the cast. the prosecutor (dan fielding, played by john larroquette, who won four emmy awards in a row for this role and would have won more if he hadn't taken himself out of consideration to give someone else a chance to win) is a womanizing lecherous pervert with a heart of gold, a sharp tongue, thick hair, and an ass you can bounce a quarter off of. harry shoots plastic snakes in dan's face in their very first meeting and by the end of the show the two are partners in shenanigans and platonic soulmates and perv4perv best friends. (another anon asked me my top harry/dan episodes; i'll answer that in their ask.) other characters include Tall As Fuck Intimidating Ditzy Bailiff Bull Shannon (richard moll), Spunky Naive Morally Upright Prude Public Defender Christine Sullivan (markie post), Hot Court Clerk Who Is Done With Everyone's Shit But Will Nonetheless Participate In The Shenanigans Mac Robinson (charlie robinson), and a collection of short, snarky, tough as nails bailiffs (selma diamond in s1-2, florence halop in s3, and marsha warfield in s4-s9).

the show is incredibly funny. if you don't like one joke wait five seconds and there will be another, even funnier one. physical comedy galore. hijinks and shenanigans everywhere. logic and realism? don't know her. wile e coyote once showed up as a defendant. dan once got so horny he locked himself in a closet and shoved a firehose down his pants. in another episode bull twisted dan into a human pretzel. it has to be seen to be believed.

but what i love most about night court is its heart (something that the sequel series has not found yet, but that's a rant for another day). the characters (at least as long as reinhold weege was involved with the show - again, a rant for another day) feel like real people. they have real flaws. they make hard decisions. they love with all their hearts, and we love them for it. they hurt, and we hurt with them. and the show - especially in the earlier seasons - balances the heart with the humor incredibly well. in 4.01, harry tries to reach out to his mother, who abandoned him when he was five, only to find out that she died, and the show does not shy away from his pain and conflicted emotions. that's the a-plot of the episode. in the b-plot, a ventriloquist's dummy commits suicide. not the ventriloquist. the dummy. and it's one of the best episodes of a start to finish stellar season.

and if you are still not convinced to give the show a try, watch this compilation of the best dan fielding moments. then watch all nine seasons of night court (available for free on freevee!) for more.

[sollucets]

Rowan! Thank you so much for your hard work on the beautiful gifs and fics, and for sharing them with us 💟 you are a blessing to the fk fandom ☀️ i hope you are having a wonderful time ^3^ (-> the closest approximation of aye's kiss face that i can find)

come off anon so we can hold hands 🥺🥺

i'm so glad you enjoy my humble offerings. i've found a lot of happiness and fun and community in making & sharing my little things since i found the extended first & khaotung cinematic universe, as it were, so i'm very grateful

[happi-tree]

ok ill bite. 🎵 sparrow

SKDBFKHDBFHKASHKBFS hiiiii nonnie!!! hope you're having a lovely day 💗💗💗 on to my sparrow shit

very basic of me ik. but i do like to think that this song would be sort of relaxing for him - almost meditative - even in a world where the moon no longer rises. i actually chose this cover version since it sounds a bit more melancholic to me since i think that would fit him best! the meaning behind the song - that even amidst chaos of the world, some things still stay certain - would help ground him a bit. i can picture him singing it softly to hero and normal when they're little as a lullaby 🥺🥺🥺

this one is more of a song about him than it is one i think he would listen to. the lyrics of this song so frequently drive me insane. there's a lyric about how the endless repeating days run together like mixed-up paint and that just really reminds me of sparrow being a little art kid. "you always hide your thoughts behind a smile / even if you close your ears / there's nothing to stop the noise" my little lovewolf bearer of the curse!!! i just want to give him a hug for keeping it together for so long this poor guy just needs to be able to take a breath and RELAX without feeling like the world will explode otherwise. also it might just be my association with the artist, sparrow, and wolves but! i digress.

Send me a ♫ + a character’s name and I will respond with a song (or multiple!!!) that reminds me of them. Send a ♫ + a ship and I will do the same.

[bandaged-writer]

dazai finally gets to fuck his s/o after a looong business trip. and he goes multiple rounds

your brain turns to mush; dazai's mouth is on your neck, sucking color into your skin and groaning whenever you squeeze around him so tightly. not to mention his fingers digging into your skin and holding you tight, bouncing you into his thrusts.

dazai can't remember how often he's filled you up, but surely you can take another load for him, right?

[earthbovndmisfit]

Ooh, or maybe mer Dio tries to kill mer Giorno at birth upon seeing his golden hair and scales because similarly to a male lion/human royalty he sees him not as an heir but a possibly powerful potential rival to the throne which he wants to keep for himself. Jonathan manages to grab baby Giorno, flees with him and takes him to land where Dio won't venture, keeping him hidden away from the sea and officially adopting him as his own child.

((in reference to this post))

You know what? That's a really sweet idea! Baby Gio being rescued by uncle Jonathan, taken to safety away from the sea. If I recall correctly, that ask in the link was set in the AU where mer!Jonathan is living in Speedwagon's house, and it's just so cute to think of that possibility of them keeping Gio there, teaching him things from both his home in the sea, but also, his home on the land. Being careful enough so that Dio doesn't see them, they could totally take Gio to the beach occasionally and let him soak in the sea for a bit, too.

[ms0milk]

hiii! i dont mean this in a rude way so im super sorry if it comes out that way but u havent updated a hymn to black water so i was just wondering if u were ok?

hihi nonnie, you're so cute don't worry not rude at all :) i know i've seriously been making yall wait for this one, and i really appreciate the check-in! i made a huge move recently and its been really hard adjusting, but as always, writing is a big comfort for me so i've been chipping away at this beloved fic every day little by little

if you aren't already, add yourself to my taglist (linked in each chapter/on the masterlist) so you don't miss ch9 & 10 when they drop! they'll be coming out close together soon :)

[lutavero]

hey, it's your tarlos secret santa here! 🎄🎁 i'm so excited to create for you 😊

i was wondering if you could expand a little on your prompts? (ie which characters you'd like the main focus to be on - i know this is tarlos but maybe you prefer to read about one over the other?) any specific scenarios you'd like to see? and sports - i'm going to be really honest, i know nothing about most sports so i'm probably not going to go for that one, HOWEVER which sports do you like? maybe it's one i actually am interested in!

Hey Secret Santa!! 🥰🥰

Aww, you're so kind - I can't wait to see your creation!!

Of course, I can expand on them for you! I don't really have a preference to be completely honest - whichever works for you more will work for me too!

Ahh don't worry so much about the sports one 😅 I personally love cycling of any kind, tennis and motorsports and skating (speed and figure) are just close to my heart. <3 But also I can just sit down and watch more or less any kind of sports. But what are YOUR favorites? Would be lovely to hear them!

I hope I did manage to answer some of your questions, and did not just cause you more despair 😅🙈 if not just hit me up once more and I'll give it another go, trying to narrow down my answers

[uzurakis]

jjk men w gf who’s overly sensitive and they said something that hurt her feelings? ^___^

FALLING INTO ARGUMENTS?!

featuring: megumi fushiguro. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. geto suguru.

n. nonnie, allow me to spice your req a bit by make them getting into arguments which hurts your feelings in the process. sorry it took a longer time to write this cause i really don’t want to mess their characterization on this one t—t you also didn’t say i need to end it with comfort so…

GOJO SATORU.

the atmosphere was heavy with tension, as if every breath you took stirred up a storm of unresolved emotions. the soft glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, accentuating the lines of frustration etched into gojo satoru’s face. his piercing gaze fixed into yours, a silent challenge hanging between both like a veil of uncertainty.

as you stood before him, the weight of his dismissive words bore down on you like a crushing weight. it was as if every syllable was a dagger aimed straight at your heart, each one leaving a deep, painful wound that threatened.

you cried out, "i can help, satoru," your voice quivering with a mix of hurt and desperation. "please, just let me help you."

however, his reply felt akin to a blow to the face. "i don’t need your help, alright?" he yelled, his voice snapping like a whip. "i've got this covered myself.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, filling the space between you guys with a palpable sense of defeat.

you begged, your voice almost audible, "but satoru, we're supposed to be in this together. i thought you trusted me. isn't that what relationships are built out of?”. nevertheless, his expression remained impassive, a mask of indifference that hid the pain lurking beneath the surface. “trust has nothing to do with it," he replied, voice colder than you had ever heard it before. "i do better alone."

with those comments, the abyss between you and gojo deepened, threatening to swallow both whole. then as you turned to leave his room, the weight of his rejection settled like a stone in your gut, leaving only a hollow ache and the bitter taste of regret.

the silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning and the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat. every fiber of his being screamed for him to go after you, to swallow his pride and beg for your forgiveness, but something held him back, he didn’t want to pull you into his mess any further.

with a heavy sigh, gojo sank into his chair, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he let out a long, ragged breath. the weight of his actions settled on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with its suffocating embrace.

tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he blinked them back, refusing to let himself break down in the face of his own weakness. he had always prided himself on his strength, on his ability to handle any situation with ease and confidence, but now, in the aftermath of this argument, he felt more vulnerable than ever before.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

"are you okay, megumi?" you asked softly as you reached out to touch his shoulder.

his usually calm demeanor was replaced by a tense energy that crackled in the air, setting your nerves on edge as he flinched away from your touch, his expression hardening as he turned to face you.

he snapped, "i'm fine," in a tone that was unlike anything you had ever heard. "stop asking me that."

the words were like a slap to the face, leaving you feeling with hurt and confusion. all you had wanted was to help him, to ease the burden he carried on his shoulders, but instead, you found myself faced with a wall of anger and resentment.

you tried to protest whilst trembling with suppressed emotions. "you know you can always talk to me, right? you don't have to go through this alone." yet he shook his head, his eyes dark with pain as he pushed you away. "i said i'm fine!” insisted, tone slightly went higher. "just leave me alone."

the tears threatened to spill over, but you just held it down and bit your lips. with a heavy heart, you turned and left his room.

as the door closed behind you, megumi let out a frustrated growl, the sound muffled by the empty room. he cursed himself silently, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as the weight of his harsh words settled heavily on his shoulders.

"damn it," he muttered under his breath, very much thick with regret. "fuck you, fushiguro.”

the memory of your hurt expression haunted him, a reminder of the pain he had caused with his thoughtless words. he had never meant to hurt you, never intended to push you away, but in his fear and uncertainty, he had lashed out without thinking, building walls around himself to keep you out.

now, as he stood alone in the quiet solitude of his room, he realized the magnitude of his mistake. he had pushed away the one person who had always been there for him, the one person who had never given up on him, and now he was left to face the consequences of his actions.

with a heavy sigh, the man sank onto his bed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the mess he had created. he knew that he needed to apologize, to make things right, but the thought of facing you again filled him with a sense of dread.

ITADORI YUUJI

under the soft glow of streetlights, yuuji and you found yourselves standing at the edge of a heated argument that threatened to consume the bond between you. the cool night air was heavy with tension, each word you and he exchanged hanging in the air like a cloud of unresolved emotions.

"i just wish you would trust me, yuuji." you said, sounding frustrated as you looked for any indication that he might understand.

however, he shook his head, his expression stubborn and closed off. "i do trust you, but this is different. i need to handle this on my own, babe.”

his remarks pierce deeply. it seemed that he was shutting you down even though all you wanted to do was to help him. you looked at yuuji and said, "i can't just watch you struggle."

"just, give me some time alone, okay?”

the hurt in his voice mirrored your own. as you watched him walk away, the sting of his words lingered like a bitter taste in your mouth. just as you turned to leave, you heard him call out your name, his voice filled with panic and regret. "wait! baby, i'm sorry. i didn't mean it like that."

you turned back to face him, the ache in your chest easing slightly at the sight of his vulnerability. in that moment, you understood that beneath his tough exterior, he was just as scared and uncertain as you were.

"it's okay, yuuji," you calmed him down, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "we'll figure this out together."

GETO SUGURU

you couldn't stand idly by as suguru pushed himself into further depression from time and time again, and tonight, you had finally reached your breaking point.

"suguru, you need to take better care of yourself," you begged, tinged with frustration and concern. "you can't keep treating yourself like this."

“is there really nothing i can do to help you?”

only he scoffed at your worries, waving off your concerns with a dismissive gesture, expression stubborn and unyielding. "i'm fine, babe.” with a deep sigh, geto suguru pointed out, "and what would you know about my problems, huh?" he reacted with resentment.

those words cut deep, leaving you mourning with hurt and disbelief.

"suguru..” you claimed, “do you really think i would just stand there as you destroy yourself? when you mean so much to me?”

his eyes softened at your words, a flicker of regret passing over his features before he shook his head, expression hardening as he turned away from you. "i don't need your help," he spat.

“i can take care of myself."

the finality of his words hung in the air like a heavy weight, crushing the last vestiges of hope that lingered in.

"fuck, i'm sorry," he murmured right before you decided to walk away. "i didn't mean to worry you."

“i, i just don’t know what to do with myself. shit, i’m so sorry.”

you turned back to face him, tears welling in your eyes as he crossed the room to pull you into a tight embrace. his familiar arms curled around you, providing comfort and warmth despite the tension. you could feel his heartbeat against yours, a rhythm that expressed both guilt and tenderness. at last, words were unnecessary as you allowed the quiet to envelope both, saying more than any apology could.

@uzurakis — requests are open! <3

[lovecolibri]

Okay, I still have a few queued up but i have to go eat and rest my brain. I may answer some more asks tonight or in the morning and over the rest of the weekend.

[goldfades]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 ─ PB⁵ ft. UCONN WBB MANAGER

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "Okay the fic Idea I was talking about is, Paige scrolling through your phone gallery and seeing the pics you didn’t send her. “Why didn’t you send me this?” and even sending herself some of the photos to her own phone. BUT then, Ms.reader over here didn’t private certain…. provocative and Lewd photos and forgot about them and Paige sees them (her gf just likes taking pictures of her own body🤷🏽 cuz why not)." for my lovely hamster nonnie

─ word count | 1.2k

─ warnings | NSFW under the cut, read at your own discretion. very fluffy and cute, nothing too rough just some good ol' love making. oral (r receiving), praise, nothing else?? enjoy!!!!

─ ev's notes | ok so this also can be read as a standalone buttt this is part of my uconn wbb manager series!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

YOU WERE SITTING on your girlfriend's bed, glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose as you tried to finish up some homework.

Paige had your phone in her hand as she scrolled through your camera roll, looking through all the photos you two had taken together over the past few months. Every now and then, she would let out a soft chuckle or an aww as she stumbled upon a particularly sweet or funny photo. You glanced up from your homework every so often, smiling at her reactions.

"Why didn't you send me this?" Paige asked, showing you a selfie of yourself after the gym yesterday. "You looked sexy, wow."

You chuckled, feeling a bit embarrassed but also pleased by her compliment. "I don't know, I guess I forgot to send it," you replied, reaching out to take a closer look at the photo.

Paige laughed, leaning into you as she continued to scroll through the photos. "I'm sending it to myself, that's my new lockscreen."

You rolled your eyes as you chuckled, turning your attention back to your homework. A few seconds later however, you somehow sensed a shift in the atmosphere as you glanced to see what Paige was looking at, only to be faced with a very incriminating photo of yourself wearing practically nothing.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you quickly reached out to grab the phone from her hand, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and panic only for her to pull the phone out of your grasp. "I forgot to delete that, sorry-"

"Delete it? Why didn't you send it to me?" Her tone was unusually serious as she glanced up to meet your gaze. "Shit, I mean that was hot."

You wanted to laugh, if this were any situation you'd want to laugh. However, as you met her now very clouded gaze, you felt your stomach flutter in confusion and maybe something... more?

This wasn't the reaction you expected. You were prepared for embarrassment, maybe even some teasing, but not this. Paige's eyes held a seriousness that seemed out of place in the moment.

"Wait, really?" you stammered, trying to gauge her sincerity. "I thought you'd find it weird or something."

Paige leaned back, a small smirk playing on her lips as she studied your reaction. "Weird? No, of course not baby. You look pretty damn good," she took another moment to study the picture as she wet her lips.

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spread through you at Paige's words, her unexpected compliment sending a thrill down your spine. "You think so?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure whether to feel flattered or apprehensive about her sudden change in tone.

Paige's smirk widened into a mischievous grin. "Oh, I know so," she replied, her gaze lingering on the photo before finally meeting yours. "In fact, I think you're hiding a lot more than just this one picture."

Your cheeks flushed even hotter at the implication of her words. You had never imagined Paige seeing you in such a revealing light, let alone expressing such bold admiration. She'd always teased you, you'd been in this relationship (of some sorts) for long enough for this to be normal.

Somehow, this time it felt more personal.

"You really want to see more?" you asked, your voice betraying a mix of nerves and excitement.

"Don't act so shy now, princess. I mean you took these photos and kept them to yourself. You knew exactly what you were doing," Paige teased, her voice laced with amusement as she leaned in closer, her breath grazing your ear.

Her playful tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal coursing through you. Despite your initial hesitations, there was something undeniably exhilarating about the prospect of sharing more with Paige.

Before you could even process it, her lips were on yours in a bruising kiss. You let out a soft moan in surprise but slowly melted into the kiss, losing yourself in the heat of the moment. As her hands roamed over your body, you felt a rush of desire coursing through your veins, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of her touch.

Your homework and laptop were long forgotten as she pulled you into her lap. Her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of bruises in their wake. You let out a soft gasp, your fingers tangling in her hair as you arched into her touch, craving more of her intoxicating touch.

"Paige, please," you whined as she hummed in response. You began to grind yourself against her sweats, your whole body shaking in pure need.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire as she met your gaze. "Yes, princess? Please what?" she teased, her voice husky with need.

"I want you," you breathed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation. All you knew was that you needed her to absolutely ruin you.

With a hungry smirk, Paige captured your lips in another searing kiss, her hands roaming over your body with a possessive urgency that left you breathless. Suddenly, she pushed you back against the bed as you whimpered with need.

Paige found herself in between your legs as she pulled off your silk pajama shorts and then your underwear. You moaned at the sight, your head falling back as she pulled your legs on her shoulders and quickly got to work.

As soon as her tongue met your wet folds, you were already ruined. You moaned at the sensation as your eyes shut, gripping the sheets beneath you. Paige kept gripped your thighs as her tongue delved into your cunt, your whole body seizing up in utter pleasure.

"Fuck," she mumbled into your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your body. You finally met her gaze as you moaned, her hand finding yours, interlacing your fingers with hers.

Paige took her time, slowly licking up and down you as if you were most delicate thing in the world (and you were ─ at least, in her world).

You arched into her mouth as you felt yourself draw closer and closer to an orgasm, your eyes shutting once again. Paige's tongue began to flick against your clit as you let out a shocked moan, your other hand finding her hair.

"Please, please don't stop. Fuck, P," you babbled on as her tongue began moving faster and faster. "I'm gonna cum, please,"

"Cum on my tongue, princess, let it out," she murmured into your pussy as the knot in your stomach snapped. "Good girl, fuck,"

Paige watched you hungrily as you moaned, your legs wrapped around her head as you came. She closed her eyes as she helped you ride out your high, her hands gripping your hips as you caught your breath.

Paige got out from between your legs and pulled you into a bruising kiss. Your hands found her hair in a lazy attempt to keep her close, your lips moving in sync with hers as the intensity of the kiss deepened. The world around you faded into oblivion as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment, consumed by the passion that pulsed between you.

"Mm, I love you," you mumbled into the kiss as she let out a small laugh. She pulled away to really take in your fucked-out state; your messy hair, your half-lidded eyes, your bruised lips. God, she was so whipped.

"I love you too, sweet girl," Paige whispered, her voice filled with adoration as she caressed your cheek, her thumb tracing the curve of your lips.

↳ 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 ♡

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

hii, I‘ve already made two requests and you‘ve written them so so beautifully <33 Your work is really amazing and I think I would consider you one of my favorite blogs💞💞 I do have one more idea :)

Reader and Jason are in a relationship, yet they don’t know about his vigilante identity. Reader works the night shift as a barista.

One night, the café gets robbed during reader’s shift, but Jason isn’t there to take care of the robber since he went on patrol only later, meaning the GCPD is the first on the scene.

When Red Hood passes the café and see’s all the police lights, his heart drops. He comes to check up on reader, but they’re so shaken up that jason scares them.

It’s all fluffy in the end, and perhaps Red Hood reveals his identity 😚

Promises

Hi, nonnie! Thank you! ~1.8k words

There was a gun to your face about ten minutes ago. Well, it might have been ten minutes ago, you're not exactly sure how long it was now. The idea of time seemed to phase out when two masked robbers stormed into the little Café you worked at.

Who even robs a coffee shop? You had maybe thirty dollars in the till, everyone uses cards or just taps their phones anyway. That point didn't seem to get across to the men as they waved their pistols in your face and shot off rounds into the air.

You showed them the safe, and a few hundred dollars seemed to calm them down. They took the money, took your wallet and phone. But none of that stopped them from shoving you to the ground as they ran off. You just sat there– dazed, scared, and overwhelmed– until a patrol car from the GCPD and an ambulance rushed to park outside.

No one was hurt, maybe some bruises from being pushed around, but you and the two unfortunate people who wanted coffee half past midnight were more than a little shaken up.

You stumble through the questions the cops ask you and let the paramedics guide you to sit on the back of the ambulance. They drape a shock blanket over your shoulders as you murmur about needing to call your boyfriend.

Someone presses a hot drink into your hands, and you barely register the quiet conversations over this being the fourth small business to get robbed this week. Your eyes only leave the spot in the distance you're fixated on when gasps resonate throughout the air. Your gaze shifts up, and your breath leaves your lungs. Red Hood. Red Hood is stalking towards you like lives depend on it, avoiding the medics and cops that try to talk to him, to get his attention.

You're proud of the fact that you don't flinch when his gloved hand meets your face, carefully tilting your chin up to observe your face. His body is rigid, you can tell something's wrong even through the muddled, shocked state of your mind.

He's crowding over you, a barrier between you and the rest of Gotham. You know he's a vigilante, you know that he helps. But the moment frays the last of your nerves and tears fill your eyes.

You just want to go home. You just want to feel safe. You want your phone back and you want to call your boyfriend and have him make everything okay again.

Red Hod freezes and you can audibly hear his breath hitching. His fingers twitch against your skin before dropping, but he doesn't step away, "Sorry. I'm sorry– Did I– are you hurt?"

That only makes you want to cry harder. He's apologizing to you. This stranger hasn't done anything, but check if you're okay, and you're crying all because he looks big and a little scary. You shake your head, trying to find the words to apologize back, that you don't know why you're crying.

You shift back, even if there's no room to go anywhere. Your heart is pounding and you're scared even if you shouldn't be because there was a gun to your face and you could have died and the man that smells like gunpowder and leather can't fix that.

His head doesn't move, you know his eyes haven't left your face. You don't know why. He doesn't gain anything from lifting his hand to catch the tear that spills down your face. "You're okay. You're safe," he murmurs, steady and full of promise, "tell me what you need. Let me make it better." He says your name, says it softly and gently and damn near yearning.

"I need– I want my phone. I want to call you boyfriend," You answer shakily, blinking back the rest of your tears and trying to figure out why a vigilante knows your name.

His head turns, presumably looking for your phone, "Is it still inside the Café?"

You shake your head, voice heavy with emotion, "It– they stole it."

"They?" He questions, mask tilting back towards you.

"The robbers?" You answer weakly, Isn't that why he's here? To get information? To catch them?

His hand finally leaves your face, and you exhale softly in relief, "I'll take care of it."

He wavers in front of you. Another thing that doesn't make sense. You don't get another word out before he's disappeared into the shadows.

Your shoulders slump. You're so tired and so, so drained, and not even the hot drink in your hands is making you feel more in your body.

Someone calls your name. Jason. You stand up on shaky legs, nearly spilling the cup in an attempt to put it down quickly. Jason's here. You don't care why or how, but he's here. He has you wrapped up against his chest and face buried in your hair before the cops can even try to stop him.

He says your name over and over into your hair, and you try to ignore the way your tears stain his shirt. "I've got you, you're okay. You're okay, baby. Promise. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you," he murmurs, arms tightening around you.

He feels safe. He smells like– he smells like leather and gunpowder. He's big and warm and a barrier between you and the rest of the world. And it all clicks.

"Let's get you home," he says softly, gently, so careful with a voice full of yearning and love. You recognize it. And you know.

Jason knows your shift ends in forty-seven minutes. But patrol has been slow tonight, and he's going to walk you home even if it wasn't. So why not show up a little early and keep you company? Spoiler seemed eager enough to cover his territory for a few hours, anyway.

He'll go back out after he sees you home safe and watches you fall asleep. Jason's idly trying to decide if you're going to be too tired to shower with him, when the flashing lights outside the Café catch his attention.

He thinks his heart might have stopped. He doesn't even think to call Oracle or text you, he just knows his feet hit the pavement and he's running.

There's only one ambulance, only one cop car. His eyes dart. Where are you. Where are you?

He's barreling towards you as soon as he finds you. He doesn't have a plan. Doesn't need one until he knows you're safe. "Move," he snaps at the medic that tries to stop him, never stopping his path towards you.

His hand is tilting your head up before he even considers the possibility that it's a bad idea, that he's just a stranger in a mask armed to the teeth with knives and guns.

He can't help himself. He needs to touch you, needs to ground himself and make sure you're not hurt. He doesn't manage to get his words out before you're tearing up.

Jason's heart breaks at the sight, bile rising in his throat. He removes his hand, even if every instinct he has goes against it. He thinks he chokes out an apology, but he's too busy looking at every inch of you for injuries.

You shake your head and a piece of his soul shatters. He reaches up to wipe your tears, as if he could do anything else, "You're okay. You're safe," he murmurs, and wills it to be true, "tell me what you need. Let me make it better." He wants it to be better. He wants your tears to stop and the tension to leave your body and the anxiety to disappear from your eyes.

"I need– I want my phone. I want to call you boyfriend," You answer, and he wants to drop to his knees when your voice shakes.

Your phone. He can do that. His eyes dart from you, looking for the familiar phone case, "Is it still inside the Café?"

"It– they stole it," You answer and his focus snaps back to you.

"They?" He questions, doing his best to keep the anger from dripping into his voice, to bite back the threats on his tongue for whoever scared you.

"The robbers?" You answer weakly. Robbers. Robbers. Robbers did this. He files that away for once you're home, once he knows you feel safe.

He pulls his hand from your face reluctantly, "I'll take care of it." Jason doesn't want to step away from you. All he really wants is to wrap you up against him and promise everything will be better. But you don't need Red Hood. You need Jason Todd.

He forces himself away from you, moves faster than he should, struggling to shed his armor and mask. He drops his guns to the roof, anything recognizable left in a pile for someone else to deal with.

He's back on the ground and rushing back to you. He says your name. You look up at him and he sees the relief flood your face.

Jason catches you when you step towards him, arms wrapping around you to keep you close.

He whispers promises against your skin, tightening his grip on you. He can feel you crying. It makes concern and anger and the overwhelming desire to protect you twists in his stomach, "Let's get you home."

Jason– Red Hood– talks to the police for you. Insists that there's no more questions for you to answer as he hooks his arm firmly around your waist. He guides you home. You barely process a word he says.

All you can really focus on, as you watch him unlock the apartment door, is that he's Red Hood. How did you miss it? Why didn't you know?

You feel disoriented. But Jason's perfect, exactly what you need in the moment. He doesn't ask you questions, doesn't press or make you move too fast as he helps you change. He nods and gets you water when you say you don't want to shower, that you're not hungry.

He lets you curl against his chest and he kisses the crown of your head when you finally crawl into bed, "I was scared," You admit quietly into his skin.

"They'll never scare you again," he promises. Your stomach swoops. It's the truth. You know it's fact. They'll never scare you again. They'll never scare anyone again. He'll make sure of it.

You fall asleep to his comforting whispers and vows, the feel of his fingers tracing your skin. When you wake up, he's still next to you, still holding you flush against him. Your wallet and phone sit on the nightstand next to your bed. Neither of you mention it as the sun begins to shine on the familiar leather jacket folded over your chair. Neither of you mention it, later, when the news reports that two bodies were found in Gotham Harbor.

[navybrat817]

" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "

With Bucky. 🥺

This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!

Give Me a Name

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. 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!

Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.

The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.

You should’ve known they were close by.

“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.

Until today.

The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.

You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.

Today wouldn’t be that day.

He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?

What made you so special?

“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?

“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.

You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.

And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.

That was your job.

Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.

Not when he wanted to keep you.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”

“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.

“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”

You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.

Not when you belonged in different worlds.

“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”

The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.

“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”

Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”

You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”

The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.

“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”

He’d prove that to you.

I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[tenshusuto]

⅋⅋ㅤ𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 ; ㅤ( always accepting ) anonymous : Kisuke do you remember anything about your past life before Seiretei? and the extension of your knowledge?

ㅤ'' Previous life? I can hardly remember a thing. ''

ㅤ'' And I can't answer the second one either for similar reason. One knows not to measure the extension of it until gained experience is demonstrated in practice. But I won't exclude crazy scenarios, I could as well end up burned as a WITCH ON PYRE, was I ever born in era where science was misunderstood and knowledge considered a threat. Who knows. '' That in case if he was still affiliated with it. At least he was decent enough to not try punning - grim meaning for this time.