littlelioncub43

[littlelioncub43]

Bucky Barnes realizing he's head-over-heels, heart-stoppingly, soul-igniting, sun-shining-from-the-heavens, the-kind-you-read-about-in-storybooks in love with you

#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #little lion thoughts #Spotify

[littlelioncub43]

being part of a production of macbeth that opened with the funeral of macbeth and lady macbeth’s baby was brutal because when lady macbeth would go “i have given suck and know how tender it is to love the babe that milks me” macbeth would pull away like she slapped him in the face and look so, so guilty. so fucking good.

#maaaaan

[littlelioncub43]

Here's this old man

#john price fanart #captain john price fanart #captain price fanart #captain john price #captain price #its beautiful

[littlelioncub43]

[littlelioncub43]

as a girl who is literally just a girl i am always yearning. always longing always missing always wearing my heart on my sleeve. always feeling like my heart is on the verge of exploding. the sight of the sun makes me cry. anyway

[littlelioncub43]

Idjdjdjssfdh

how eddie looks when you suck his cock clean off

#no yeah

[littlelioncub43]

She dazzles

south asian women and their beautiful big brown eyes as said on twitter

#richa moorjani #indira olmstead

[littlelioncub43]

[littlelioncub43]

No, yeah.

i love perverted nerds with big fat cocks 😵‍💫

#eddie munson is a sweetheart #with a massive cock

[littlelioncub43]

This or don't bother

[littlelioncub43]

Reblog to give the person you reblogged from the ability to finish their WIPs

[littlelioncub43]

I have yet to read it, but trust and believe that I will, my love.

Plus I already know it's a masterpiece, you create nothing but masterpieces (and I will never believe otherwise).

Hurricane

Jason Todd x Reader

Mostly like PG-13.

Allusions to heavy abuse.

You think you must have been starved as a child.

It’s the only way that he could leave you this hungry, this hollow. You tell yourself that it isn’t normal to want someone like this. You tell yourself that it isn’t healthy to want someone so much that it twists your ribs around themselves, makes you fold in on yourself because if you don’t the wind will catch and carry you off. 

You’re so empty you hear the breeze whistle in your throat, half drunk with a beer bottle in your fist blowing across the opening like a whistle and your whole body is warm. You don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the fact that he’s sitting across from you. 

“What’s up with you?” 

Jason levels you with a stare, clacks his beer bottle against yours in some mockery of playfulness even though you’ve barely said a word to him all night. 

You try to shove it off now, try to swallow down your feelings as the sensation of the bile crawling up the back of your throat burns at your resolve. 

“Huh? I’m fine–”

“You’re a shit liar, kid.” 

You hate that he calls you that. Kids are innocent, pure; the first time Jason met you he’d had to pry you off of some man while you were trying to cut his fingers off for feeling you up. Jason told that man if he ever caught him doing some shit like that again he’d take a whole hand. Fucking greaseball nodded because Jason was more than a full head taller than him and held him off the ground by his stupid fucking stained shirt. 

You’ve always hated that you didn’t scare people like that, you think maybe if you did you could have avoided some hurt. 

You roll your eyes, because you are a shit liar and Jason knows better than anyone when you’re keeping things from him. Because he’s the only person you’ve let this close in longer than you probably have the functional front lobe to remember. Concussions are a bitch like that.

“I think I’m just gonna go home,” you offer, knocking back the rest of your beer before your ribcage gets so brittle that it collapses and he sneezes on the dust. 

“Alright then, magic man, keep your secrets.” 

“You’re obnoxious.”

“And you’re keeping shit from me. I thought we agreed not to do that with this whole sidekick thing–”

“I’m not a fucking sidekick.” Venom drips from your teeth, a snake backed into a corner with nowhere to go but forward viciously.

“And this is what I’m talking about! Any other day you’d just punch me and tell me to get my shit in check but today you look like you’re ready to slit my throat.” 

“It’s not off the table,” you murmur, more to the ceiling than to him, right before the last of your beer slides down into your echoing gullet. 

“What is going on with you?” 

“Just some personal shit, Jason. Don’t worry about it.” You try to give it finality, but Jason can’t even die on someone else’s terms so he doesn’t let this go either. 

“What, like your period?” 

You don’t even try to stop your hand when your fingers close around the beer bottle and throw it at his head. He ducks and it shatters on the wall behind him, shards of glass raining down around his chair. You know how that feels. 

The bartender’s voice is booming from the other end of the bar. 

“You two. Out.” 

He’s bigger than both of you combined and you don’t feel like arguing anymore so you wave your hand as you dismiss yourself, leaving Jason to pay for the abhorrently cheap beer. 

It’s humid in Gotham, suffocating your every breath with smog and uncertainty. Maybe you should just find a place in Metropolis, start over again, but you’re so fucking tired of running. Everyone you have ever met, everyone that has ever left you has taken their pound of flesh. You feel like nothing but bones, knocking together like chutes on a bamboo wind chime before a hurricane. 

Jason is your hurricane. Your natural disaster of righteous salvation and you didn’t bring your arm floaties. 

You want to drown in him, want to inhale him and choke—

Even if it kills you. He’s never even had a girlfriend that you know of and how fucking idiotic would it be to ask Alfred if Jason’s available, how stupid to ask Dick if Jason’s interested in you.

You peel yourself out of your jeans, your bra, shove your arms through the most comfortable oversized t-shirt you can find and flop onto your back in the middle of your living room. 

The ceiling in your apartment holds no more answers than the ceiling at the bar and again you have to swallow back that hollowed out feeling. At some point your eyes slid closed and you slumbered listening to the breeze in the auditorium of your chest. 

—-

Everything is warm when you wake up, heat radiates from behind you and from the arm slung over your middle. 

But that can’t be right, this isn’t where you fell asleep. 

You don’t wait to ask questions, pivoting your body and swinging at whatever is behind you. Someone yelps in pain, your fist connecting with something face adjacent before it’s caught and held fast. Your knees come up to join the struggle and one heavy leg drapes across your hips to still you. 

“Goddamnit, will you fucking chill out?”

“Jason?” 

Just as you say it your eyes adjust to the light, make out the red bat on his chest, make out the shock of silver that grows in the front. 

“Yeah, me, shithead.” 

“Why are you in my bed?!” You struggle against his hold, it only gets tighter. 

“I came to check on you after patrol and you were like sad girl passed out in the floor.” 

“So you decided I needed a cuddle?!” 

“I mean, that’s probably not such a bad idea given your fucking attitude—“

“Jason!” 

“No! I mean, I didn’t mean to. I tucked you in and just wanted to stay long enough to make sure you were okay and then I fell asleep.” 

He lets go of you, lets you get as far away from him as you can without falling off of the bed. He looks like you shot him with his own gun. 

“I’m sorry. I uh- I crossed a line coming here-“ 

“No, wait,” you stop him, reach for him as he moves to get up. 

“I don’t understand where I lost you-“ 

You don’t let him finish. You rush him,  connect your mouth to his because you don’t know how else to explain it. He doesn’t react immediately, and you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole but it doesn’t. 

You pull back, sit up and on your haunches and stare at his dumbfounded face. There’s only a second of silence between you before a hand strikes out lightning fast, thunder clapping against your sternum as you’re jerked forward. 

One hand cradles your head, allowing you no room to escape from the kiss suffocating you like the most beautiful Gotham smog. Wisp of smoke soft, signal of something lit aflame. The other presses into your back, calloused and unforgiving, like he’ll float away if he doesn’t hold on. You want to pull him closer but you can’t, your electrons are already crashing together. 

You tug at the buckles on his chest kevlar, fingers pinch and twist until they come loose and fall into a heap on the floor. His shirt goes too, the silver of sinew in his autopsy scar catching the moonlight. You’re struck dumb like staring into the eye of his hurricane and seeing the beauty in the pattern of his destruction. Like pitching yourself into a volcano for the warmth. 

Because he is beautiful; 

and he is broken. 

And those two things are intertwined and that is something you understand in your marrow. 

You press your lips to the point where the three lines meet right over his heart. His breath catches the same way it does when he’s on the unfortunate end of a knife, but you know there aren’t words you can tell him that will soothe that ache. 

So you show him your own. 

Bodies roll and he lets out a huffed breath when his back hits the mattress. 

A handful of raised tally marks, gnarled and stretched over time, one for every reason your father decided that he hated you that night. You didn’t plan on living after that, you’ve kind of been wingin’ it ever since. Jason’s thumb brushes over the cluster of violence on your stomach, looks from it to your face and understands the exchange. 

Your scars and his, all the things that have happened to you. 

He happened to you too. 

And you can spew adjectives about every natural disaster that has a name and still never aptly describe how much you love his chaos. 

And that's okay too.

#fic rec #writer rec #look at my bestie go! #creating magnificent pieces of work that rival the greats #jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fan fic #k and nyck being besties and kink twins forever

[littlelioncub43]

Me trying to act normal whilst reading this and agreeing 10000%:

Maybe an unpopular opinion but a domesticity kink + dry humping is one of the best combos out there EVER

Like imagine this big, strong, burly man like Price or Simon or Graves being absolutely wild and soft for you, the pretty housewife that drives a man crazy♡ All soft curves, nice ample breasts and soft, broad hips with a pretty floral apron tied around your waist as you cook a nice hearty mean for your tired man and greet him with that beautiful smile of yours :((

It honestly would make them soft, desperate, hating the idea of being even a second longer away from you, all pent up and horny so they just cling with their big, rough hands to your hips and they can't helo themselves but thrust their quiclly hardening cocks against you, effectively humping you like an animal in heat but even your soft whines that you need to finish their dinner doesn't stop the man; he needs to fuck, needs to be close to his girl♡

#well fuck me

[littlelioncub43]

Of course Sam is doing all the work

get them out of here sam

#i love sam #sam wilson #😹 this is cute

[littlelioncub43]

[littlelioncub43]

#and thats healing

[littlelioncub43]

PARDON?

i moaned a little ngl

#joe keery #wowzers #👁👄👁 #AROOOOGA