Finally A Royalty Fic By Navy 💜💜 This Is Amazing, I'm In Love!! I Needed This More Than I Knew

What would Elliot's first word be and how would Loki react? Btw love your writing❤️

nobody move or you’ll scare the content away

ugh i am so sorry i haven’t been able to write much! thank anyone who stuck around! i’ve been having to focus mostly on my school related writing (plus got a job so woo!) and its definitely not slowing down anytime soon, but here’s a little something i did manage to get out.

i don’t think i’ll ever get over the idea of Loki being a dad

A light that isn’t supposed to be on is on in the kitchen.

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I would sell my soul to enter several of your fics 🥵

How do they kiss you to break your last line of defence?

Andy Barber

Ransom Drysdale

Ari Levinson

Steve Rogers

Ah, I see you woke up this morning and chose violence 😡 Hahaha I looove this ask! I’d happily sell my soul to smooch any one of these babes. Or all of them. At once. 🫠 Okay, now I’m distracting myself lol. Let’s seeee…

Andy is gonna do that thing where he gently—carefully—cups your face between his big hands. He’s gonna duck close so his eyes can lock on yours and you can’t escape his intense, penetrating gaze. So you can see his desire for you shining from those baby blues of his. He’s gonna move slow, too, not only to draw it out and give you a chance to really resist if this isn’t what you want, but because there’s something about the anticipation. He wants to hear your breath catch. He wants to see the surrender in your eyes just before they close as his lips touch yours. His mouth on yours is somehow soft and frantic at once. You can tell he’s trying to rein himself in but as soon as a soft whimper bubbles up from the back of your throat and you’re clutching at his sides, it’s game over, sis, and he switches to devour mode 😮‍💨🤌🏻

Ransom’s move will be a tiny bit similar to Andy’s in that he’s cradling your face in his hands, but it’s nowhere as soft. He’s propelling you back into the closest wall, eyes twinkling at your quiet “oof.” His hands hold you tight because he’s not gonna give you that chance to escape. You’re his and this is happening, and he’ll make sure you like it, that you beg for more. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna throw in a, “You’re mine,” just before his lips close in on yours, and then he’s gonna kiss you fiercely, kiss you breathless, kiss you until your knees are buckling and you’re finally giving him that whimper as he licks his way into your mouth and makes sure his flavor is staining your tongue for a good, long while 😏

Ari is gonna use his considerable size difference compared to you to his advantage. He wants you to be hyper aware of him but at the same time, he’ll have the softest touch ever. Backing you into a piece of furniture and pinning you there. He’s quiet, which is a rarity for him, and emphasizes the intensity of the moment. He keeps his movements slow as he raises a hand to your throat. He doesn’t grip it though, instead he gently drags his knuckles down the smooth column, lips quirking just a bit when you shudder in response. Before you’ve full recovered from that solitary touch, his thumb is brushing along your lower lip, his hungry gaze fixed on your mouth, and then he’s gonna lift his eyes to yours and maintain eye contact as he slooowly closes in until his lips touch yours. That’s when he finally makes a sound, a relieved groan, the kind of deep, carnal sound that makes your pussy clench, and before you know it, you’re kissing him back just as urgently.

Steve is gonna pounce on you in a moment of feral passion. He’s done talking about why this is a bad idea, especially when the thought of it feels so right. He’s gonna sweep you up against him, one thick arm locking around your back as his other massive hand cradles the back of your head and keeps you in place for a thorough devouring. The kiss starts hard, but when you mewl into his mouth and cling to his shoulders—give into him—he slows it down, his touch growing softer at your surrender as he hums against your lips and deepens the kiss until you’re melting into his embrace and proving what he knew all along - you were meant to be his.

(Thank you for cumming to my horny TED talk 😅)

really want to get fucked in missionary so he can put his forehead against mine and make eye contact while he thrusts in fast and pulls out slow, mouths only an inch apart, breathing heavily, reaching so deep that i can feel him in my lungs—

The feels on this one! The angst, the hope, how my heart skipped

Fucking Ransom and the way he is written in here he could totally have my heart

@stargazingfangirl18 is definitely one of my favourite writers 😍

Say It

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female!Reader Word Count: 3,039 Summary: You went and caught feelings and scared Ransom away…and then he shows up at your door at four in the morning. Warnings: Explicit language. Angst with a happy ending. AU. Soft!Ransom.

A/N: This is for the lovely @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​ ‘s 500 followers celebration. Congrats, sweet soul! I so appreciate you and your kindness and hoeing. Thank you for hosting this challenge. Enjoy! ❤️❤️❤️

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Intimacy is not just experienced through sex. It's crying together. It's whispering late at night. It's talking about growing up and what used to scare you. It's going places that remind you of your childhood. It's feeling each other without touching. It's exchanging energy.

My dad (Unattractive but super social) + My mom (Attractive but social) = Me (Unattractive and with social anxiety)

Jawbreaker

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky put a mouthy rookie in his place. Word Count: Over 800 Warnings: Established relationship, mention of injury, misogyny, punching, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes defending you (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm dedicating this to @whisperlullaby , who got to read this in advance, because she deserves this man (along with the rest of you). ❤️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!

A small part of Bucky felt bad as he idly wiped his hand with a towel. A very small part.

He didn’t want people to fear him because of his past and he refused to let it define him. That meant that he tried his best to avoid violent tactics unless absolutely necessary.

But today, well, fuck that. The fucker had it coming.

Steve stood in front of him, his blue eyes narrowed as he waited for his best friend to acknowledge him.

Oh, Bucky expected some sort of reprimand, but he was sure Steve would change his tune in a minute or so.

“You gonna ask me what happened, punk, or glare at me until I talk?” He asked, tossing the towel away.

The blonde huffed out a laugh, but he didn’t look amused. “Why did you break that rookie’s jaw?”

Bucky tilted his head. “What’s the phrase? He fucked around and found out.”

You would’ve been proud of him for that reference.

Steve shook his head when Sam burst out laughing a few feet away. “Sam, please,” he begged, though his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile. “What did the guy do?”

A bitter taste flooded Bucky’s mouth as anger coursed through his veins again. He inhaled as he thought of your sweet smile and soft touch before he exhaled, the storm inside of him calming.

“Buck, you gotta tell us something,” Steve urged, needing some sort of information to try and do some damage control.

The brunette straightened up to look his friend in the eyes, wanting him to see the fury beneath the cold mask. “He told my girl to throw an apron on and get back in the kitchen when she went to spar.”

You, one of the most capable agents Bucky had ever known.

You, who had shown nothing but kindness to everyone, even when they didn’t deserve it.

The person Bucky was lucky enough to call his other half. His better half.

And some asshole rookie had the gall to treat you as if you didn’t belong there with the rest of them.

Sam was no longer laughing. Steve’s jaw clenched in understanding.

Bucky swallowed, that fury threatening to surface again as he remembered the hurt that filled your eyes at the comment. “You know I’d support anything she wants to do, whether that’s working or staying at home. It doesn’t give some prick the right to make her feel bad for her decision.”

“You know I don’t like bullies, but breaking his jaw?” Steve questioned. The guy deserved it, but did the punishment actually fit the crime?

“When she walked away, he said to come back when she was ready to see what a real man could do for her,” he said, the words coming out like a snarl.

The way you tensed up, fear and disgust flickering on your face, he didn’t think. A switch inside of him went off and he swung.

The fucker was lucky that all he got was a broken jaw. He could’ve done so much worse.

And it wasn’t that you couldn’t defend yourself because you could, but you shouldn’t have to put up with garbage like that.

A cracking sound echoed in the room before he realized he crushed the armrest of his seat. “Fuck. I’ll pay for that,” he mumbled, kicking a bit of the broken piece with his boot. “Can you just tell me how much trouble I’m in so I can get back to my girl?”

He didn’t care if he they suspended or even fired him as long as he got back to you.

The room stayed silent before Sam mused, “Technically, what the rookie did counts as harassment.”

Steve nodded. “And I’m sure Nat can persuade him not to sue for the injury he received,” he added, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’ll take care of it, Buck. Just. No more breaking jaws, okay?”

“When it comes to my girl, I make no promises,” Bucky smiled, his heart racing at the thought of you. “And maybe he’ll think twice before he opens his mouth again.”

“The damage you did, I don’t think he can open his mouth at all,” Sam mumbled.

Bucky’s phone went off before he could comment, his heart swelling as he read your text. He had to bite back a groan, too.

“Thank you again, Jawbreaker. I love you and I’ll be on my knees waiting for you.”

You wanted to thank him not just with words, but with your body and heart. It all belonged to him, like he belonged to you.

And he didn’t need to tell Steve and Sam what the message said since it was just for the two of you. “Love you, too, baby. Nothing to thank me for, but I’m on my way. Be ready.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Maybe we'll see how you "thank" Bucky down the road. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

Pancakes & Promises

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader Word Count: 794 Summary: You both want breakfast, but neither of you want to cook it, it’s only a matter of time before one of you cave. Warnings: Sexual themes/talk, but no smut.

A/N: I figured we could all use a dose of Jake Jensen fluff right about now ❤️ I used this prompt: one of us has to get out of bed to make pancakes and it’s not going to be me ok just go and bring me nourishment. Enjoy, my pretties!

You were dozing comfortably, in that limbo right between awareness and sleep, when Jake’s low rumble of a voice roused you.

“As much as I love cuddling in bed with you, gorgeous, I’m hungry.”

Lips quirking at the corners, you nuzzled closer to his naked chest. “Really? I feel like the way you oh so enthusiastically woke me up could be considered a hearty meal, no?”

Jake’s chest shook with laughter, jostling you against him. “As delicious as that wakeup call was, I’m still a growing boy, ya know?” His fingers trailed up your naked back, making you shiver.

Sighing, you blinked your sleepy eyes open, shifting until your hands pillowed Jake’s chest and your chin rested on top of them. You gazed up at him, unimpressed with his dilemma. “Well I’m certainly not stopping you from making breakfast.”

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Jaskier did not shiw his ankles?! 😲😲 The audacity, the indecorum!!

Geralt trying to be respectful but there's only so much a man can take

People call Geralt old fashioned, as if just because he’s nearly a century old he doesn’t understand modern sensibilities. But that’s not it. He understands perfectly well that the world changes, but he still thinks there’s some value in a certain sense of decorum.

Jaskier, however, has no decorum whatsoever.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that he goes around with his doublet undone, showing off a lacy undershirt beneath – because that’s the fashion now, apparently, and young people these days have no problem with that sort of thing – there are even times when he removes his doublet entirely, leaving Geralt to deal with a lot of billowy shirtsleeves and uncomfortably transparent fabric.

It’s hard not to look, okay, when there’s all of… that on display. (Broad shoulders, the firm swell of his chest muscles, a tangling of dark hair that you want to dig you fingers into -)

It’s even worse when Jaskier choose to roll his sleeves up past his elbows (revealing the soft, pale skin of his forearms which aches to be kissed). Worse still when Jaskier continues to gesture wildly as he talks, hands flicking back and forth in Geralt’s field of view, constantly flitting distractions of skin and joints and blue veins barely visible.

Geralt steels himself. It’s just Jaskier being Jaskier. It doesn’t mean anything. He ought to be ashamed of his… blatant ogling. It’s unbecoming of a man his age.

“… Geralt? are you listening?” Jaskier snaps his fingers in front of Geralt’s face and his attention is caught by the delicate lines of his wrist, the scent of lavender emanating from his pulse point, the faint, faint sound of blood throbbing beneath the skin.

He schools his face into a carefully neutral frown. “Hmm,” he says, hoping that will induce Jaskier to drop it.

Jaskier narrows his eyes but says nothing, soon distracted by throwing himself onto the room’s single bed. “My feet are killing me,” he complains, one hand pressed to his forehead dramatically. “And it’s all your fault for making me walk everywhere.”

Geralt averts his eyes as Jaskier removes his boots and peels off his socks, damn him. Some things were not meant to be done in company.

Jaskier thrusts one foot toward Geralt and wiggles his toes. “Give me a foot rub?” he says, as if that was something you casually asked your friends to do.

Geralt makes the mistake of glancing over and is greeted by not only the elegant arch of his foot, but also a shapely, fine-boned ankle and the soft, inviting swell of a calf.

He feels light headed. His heart is pounding. This is beyond the pale, even for Jaskier. His ankle is right there. It’s indecent. It’s scandalous. It’s downright shameful.

Geralt commits the sight to memory for… later consideration.

“Come on,” Jaskier wheedles. “Help a fellow traveller out. I’ll call for a bath and we can share the tub while you massage my toes.”

The… the audacity. The impropriety. The blood is roaring in his ears. He thinks he might faint.

He sets his face into his most intimidating grimace and growls, “Fuck off, bard.”

Jaskier just laughs, high and light. “Oh, Geralt, you really are too much fun.”

Geralt pouts. He doesn’t see what’s so damn funny.