#jesus dude fuckin rude
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23: *having a rough time with TBK's emotional bleedthrough*
23: what if I just
23: *dissociates into the mcr concert we went to*
Liz, who struggles with fronting alone/without help and Did Not Ask:
#liz speaking#other#for later me#negative#jesus dude fuckin rude#like. I thought we were working together rn but ok go off and have fun I guess?#fucker barely even let me see the concert as it was happening bc they were obsessed with 'recording it' for everyone else smh#like no baby you focusing on being fully present is how you get us to LEAVE not SEE WHAT U SEE#wait am I (Liz) getting a better handle on the system bc that was weirdly uh. fact-like? idk#also easier on future me if I just put the post itself into third person most times and talk As Whoever in the tags if that makes sense#also oh my god I think 23 can use the experience of the concert to have mcr 'perform' songs in the head that they didn't perform at that#concert like they very much did not play kill all your friends but I just got a pretty clear snapshot of them doing that so that's#uh. something#on the bright side I literally Cannot feel tbk's sadness anymore so that's nice at least. sorry if ur still strugglin in there boyo
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stole this from basu on twt bc 🙌🏼 preaaachh
#kyman#south park#i also am in love with the absolute denial he was in during PC#craziest shit I’ve ever seen#Kyle deadass saw eric’s wedding ring. and wife. and KIDS#and was like ‘no. 🧍♂️ fake news’#kyle heard cartman havin sex?? he doesn’t tell them to stop bc it’s rude. he tells eric’s wife ‘hey ur husband gave me aids’ and DOESNT#CLARIFY SHIT and bro doesn’t realize the fucking implications#Kyle getting worked up over heiman NOT for her sake. but eric’s#’in a way wE’rE aLl gOiNg oUt wiTh cArTmAn’ what the FUCK does that mean kyle#kyle’s stupid little ‘Hey heidi so I know you and cartman have an anniversary comin up’ (I. no words.) c#‘some of us don’t think cartman’s qualified to be with you. what do you find in him that’s remotely REDEEMING’#motherfucker didn’t even ask why she liked him. asks what’s ‘redeeming ‘ abt him. kyle I know wanting to redeem cartman is Your Thing but#jesus dude let heidi speak for herself#don’t get me started when the girls were like ‘do u like heidi?’ and kyle had a mental breakdown (he’s always known when he Likes a Girl.#wtf why was he so torn up abt it.)#also Kyle ‘I hate Cartman let’s exclude him from building boats’ Brofloski goin ‘awww cartman i’m sorry’ as soon as#Cartman gets emo abt the ‘surgery’ and is the first to include him in boat building#AND THEN proceeds to be on top of eric abt the quality of boats?? when no one else cares? not even BUTTERS? y does he care so much??#weirdo. fuckin weirdo fr
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Saw this meme and iiiiii did a thing... a steddie thing... obviously
( Eddie has a small dick in this if you don't like it don't read it. We support small dick supremacy in this house thank you for your time. 😊 )
😅😅😅
I'm picturing them at a bar. I wanna say maybe Steve is the bar tender, and he's been seeing Eddie around. He comes in. Talks a little, he's kinda quiet. Like he's stuck in his head, like he comes there to think. He's always scribbling things on napkins. Steve thinks they might be song lyrics, the way Eddie hums and taps his fingers as he writes.
But Steve obviously sees him looking at him sometimes. It's a gay bar, it happens, but Eddie doesn't leer at him, or chat him up in that way. It's always just friendly conversation.
Steve kind of loves it. Loves being able to just chat and not worry about getting stalked out to his car by a creep. And then one day some drunk dude is hitting on Eddie HARD. Leaning into him and grabbing at his arm and just when Steve is about to say something the guy actually says the words,
"how big is that dick?" Like... in real life. Out loud. And grabs for Eddie's thigh, and Steve watches Eddie catch his wrist, easy, watches him shove the guys hand back at him, saying,
"small. Leave me alone." Without even looking at him. And Steve fucking barks a laugh because that was... fucking hilarious. But also... kinda hot. Like, he's known he likes Eddie for awhile but seeing someone come on to him had sealed the deal, jealousy crawling over his skin, but then seeing Eddie shut it down, in the funniest fucking way Steve had ever seen, had just slammed it into place.
The guy scowls, says something rude, and stalks off. But Eddie is looking at Steve cuz he's still chuckling. Doing that cough thing like he's trying to cover it up but the laugh is still extremely prominent through the coughing. And Eddie watches him with raised eyebrows cuz like... damn okay. Cute bar tender thinks he's funny. And Steve is like,
"Sorry man. That was just, fuckin hilarious. Not the guy grabbing you, obviously, just, how you delt with it. Like that was... the best thing I've seen in awhile. Just... just sayin." He shakes his head to stop himself rambling more, he needs more friends to hangout with besides Robin, she's rubbing off on him. So he just reaches into the cooler and grabs Eddie his usual beer, slides it over the bartop to him, tells him it's on the house.
"Thanks." Is all Eddie says, but he looks happy, small smile still on his face.
And when the bar's closing, and Eddie is still there, just idly talking to Steve all night. Steve takes a chance. Says some cheesey line about letting Eddie walk him home. And Eddie flushes red to his ears but nods, takes the last sip of his beer and helps Steve flip the chairs onto the tables so he can do a quick sweep. Steve's locking the door when he hears Eddie clear his throat awkwardly, like he wants to say something. Steve looks at him, waits.
"I uh... look I know you thought I was being funny... earlier." Eddie scratches his head, nods into the bar. Steve nods, lets him continue.
"But I uh- I was also being serious?" He grimaces, eyes on the ground.
"So if that's like... a deal breaker? That's- that's totally okay. I just uh... I dont know. Thought I should maybe warn you before- before anything...happens?" His eyes widen and he takes a step back.
"Not that anything was gonna happen! Like I wasn't expecting... THAT. I just... oh my god I don't know. People can be assholes about small dicks so I just wanted to be up-front about it in case you thought I was kidding when I told that guy that. Cuz I was being serious and I'm gonna stop talking. Jesus christ." He breathes the last part, shaking his head at himself, his face twisted in what looks like pain. Steve thinks he's fucking adorable.
He steps closer, puts his hands on Eddie's hips and pushes him gently against the brickwall of the bar. Rests his head against Eddie's as he laughs a little, Steve's fingers pressing into his hips tickling a bit.
"I don't care. Honestly I uh..." he pauses, pulls back to look at Eddie, his eyes are wide, his cheeks are a deep pink now.
"I was kinda hopin you weren't kidding." Steve tilts his head, smirks at Eddie, just a little. A light smirk. Not the full thing, doesn't wanna overwhelme him. Yet. Eddie sucks in air, blinks at him.
"Oh. Yeah?" He asks, his voice breathy, pitched higher than usual. Steve nods, sinks his teeth into his lip, and brushes his nose against Eddie's.
"Yeah. Still wanna walk me home?" Steve asks, staying close. Eddie nods, his hands moving to Steve's shoulders.
"Yeah. Yes absolutely. I'd love that. I'd love too." He rambles, swallowing hard.
And Steve can't help himself anymore, ducks forward and presses a soft kiss to his lips. Eddie makes a little sound in his throat and Steve fucking adores it. Already in so deep for this guy. But it's been months. Eddie's not a new thing in his life. Just, this part of it is new.
Eddie blinks at him when he pulls back, steps away from Eddie but holds out his hand. Eddie smiles, reaches out and takes it, lets Steve drag him away from the wall and down the sidewalk. Their fingers laced together, hands swaying between them as they walk through the dark.
#steddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#eddie munson has a small dick#and steve fucking loves it i cant hear you over their love#my writing#mine#Fates Endless Inkwell#fei#steddie blurb#steddie ficlet
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🎧 | heartbeat, richie jerimovich.
so we're done? this the real shit? / we used to hold hands like field trips / i’m a jerk, but your dude is a real dick / i read his posts on your wall and i feel sick.
making out/mild groping, references to sex, cheating, richie is petty.
request a playlist roulette here!
“I’m working, Richie.”
“Then fuckin’ stop. Tryn’a have a conversation here.”
You simply huff and continue to ignore him, though the small space of the office feels impossibly closed off. It’s like all the air has been sucked out, filled with a sticky warmth that settles in your veins, where you can’t possibly ignore his presence behind you.
It’s been years. Whatever happened between you and Richie was over, it ended right before you went off to college. So, yeah, fucking ages ago. What gave him the right to whine about it now? You were knee-deep in paperwork, having been called up by Carmen to help balance some accounts for the restaurant renovations. With a business degree under your belt, you’d happily taken the offer. It helped that you were in Chicago anyway.
“There isn’t a conversation to be had, asshole.” You quipped back, standing at the desk and flipping through contract after contract. They’re scattered around, and quite frankly, a mess. You make a mental note to ask Carmy if he ever got his pen license: because his handwriting is atrocious.
The silences stretches on for another few seconds. Sweet, soundless seconds, where you can summon an inkling of focus, before it’s brutally ripped away from you again.
“Missing my baby. #LongDistanceWarrior.”
It’s said in a delicate, mocking tone, that had you whipping around to face him. Richie has his phone in hand, scrolling through your Facebook wall and finding comments from your boyfriend.
“Do you mind?” You snap.
“Nah, babe. It’s fuckin’ pathetic, this shit,” He’s begun again, all wound up and pissed. “I mean— jesus, what a jagoff. Trust me, I know you, and I know you’re not into this garbage.”
You expel a harsh breath through your nose, turning your back to him once more. “It’s sweet.”
“No it fuckin’ isn’t. It’s disgusting.”
The hypocrisy of it all is astounding, it twists harsh in your gut, churning a dangerous mix of irritation and, maybe, a little bit of guilt. “Y’know, last time I checked, we broke up ‘cus of you, genius.”
“That’s not what happened,” Richie is quick to assert, dropping his phone in favour of waving his hands wildly, as if it would help his point. “Hey! That’s not what fuckin’ happened! You decided to go to New York, like a pretentious—
“No! No, fuck you!” You’re yelling back at him now, albeit still looking down at the desk. “I wanted to do long distance, asshole, and you threw a goddamn fit. So tough fucking luck, you missed your chance.”
It shuts him up for a moment, because it’s true: Richie didn’t want to do long distance, and you wanted to go to college in New York. Neither of you would budge, and so you broke up. But now, you’re dating some rich asshole, who apparently, has no goddamn problem with long distance. Making Richie the cuck.
“Is it his dick, or somethin?” Richie is speaking again in a lower tone, an almost playful twinge to it. “Cus it’s definitely not his face.”
He’s approached you, chest pressed firm against your face, as he drops the phone over your paperwork. It’s still open on your facebook wall, an image of you and this new boyfriend, posing for a photo: you’re kissing his cheek.
You shake your head, giving Richie a sharp nudge with your elbow. It’s supposed to get his ribs, but he catches it in his palm, warm and big over your skin. “Don’t be rude.” You scold.
“So it’s not?” He continues to pry. “It’s the money, then? Bet he’s fuckin’ loaded. Goddamn trust fund.”
“That’s none of your business.” You tell him.
The contact feels foreign and familiar all at the same time. It’s like coming home to a warm bed, still all mussed from the night before, and crawling right back between the covers. But it’s laced with something new, an intoxicating sense of temptation, because you know how wrong this is. How wrong it is to lean back against him, to not shoo him away.
Richie knows this, he knows the hold he has on you, knows that he’s getting what he wants. Because you’re not as uptight as you pretend to be: you’re that same scrappy kid who’d fuck around with him in high school: A younger girl, and her stupid older boyfriend, working weekends in a shitty restaurant and blowing the paychecks on dumb stuff like fireworks and beer.
So his hands find your waist, fingers wrapped around the meat of your body, tugging you back into him. You spare a glance downwards, past the paperwork, watching the way he grips you tight and possessive.
“Aren’t you married?” You ask, pushing through the breathless feeling in your lungs.
“Not anymore,” Richie supplies. “But you already knew that, didn’t ‘ya?”
You hum, rolling the idea around in your head for a moment. Any sense of rationale dissipated the second his breath hit your ear, so close, too close, and yet you still wanted him closer. Deeper. All around you.
So you turn around, wedged between the desk and him, Richie’s firm torso pinning you in place. His self control dwindles, taking the chance to skate his hands over your body, rough palms finding your ass and squeezing.
“Shouldn’t be doing this,” You remind him, the words whispered into hot air, a moment of consciousness that preens its way into your mind. “I have a boyfriend. He loves me.”
“Oh, yeah?” Richie will contest, voice rough and molten right near your ear. “The fuck ‘s he doin’ in New York, then?”
And it’s true. Fuck, it’s so true. Because he’s there and Richie is right here, hot and hard against you, smelling so familiar and before you can even think his mouth is on yours. It feels perfect, your hands skimming up his chest, finding his face to pull him in closer. Teeth clash and noses bump, his thigh pushing between your legs, pulling you down against him.
The paperwork is forgotten as you feverishly make out on the desk, groping and grinding like teenagers. It’s only interrupted by Carmen, who eventually comes knocking with another handful of receipts. His face twists in disgust at the sight, making a disgruntled noise before turning on his heels. Your face is red at this point, forehead making contact with Richie’s shoulder as you huff in a mix of embarrassment and guilt.
Not guilty enough, though, to stop Richie from coming back to your hotel. Not guilty enough to not sleep with him one, two… three more times. Certainly not guilty enough to not call him whenever you’re in Chicago.
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🪷 CTFUUUUUU your gojo and reader sex tape post was so hilarious omg. Ngl to me they don't give the vibes of a couple that make one (I don't mean this as an insult omfg now that I wrote it it sounds rude as hell) but the type who are professional phone fuckers.
Doja cat's Cyber sex is their national anthem I just know it I had a little locker room talk with reader she told me 😙. And yeah what you said abt gojo's schedule being all over the place as a player I'd thought that too, which is why phone sex is 🔛🔝 for these two. Just two freaky frogs omg I know that dude sluts her out bad and she doesn't want it any other way
He's a player (the *other* type of player) too so ofc he'd have expertise in the area of tasteful nudes but reader's learning curve will be so exponential gojo would be left in the dust in a short amount of time😁 RIP BOZO‼️
Imagine a little roleplay scenario where reader dresses up as a cheerleader for gojo after he returns from winning some final match as a victory treat. That dong goes up at an angle of elevation so steep you could make a mean trigonometric question off of it. I need him BAD I need him esp when he's sweaty after a gym or practice session I'd climb that man like jack was climbing that beanstalk.
Anyway I hope you've been doing well sweets! Thanks for being so nice to me in your last ask and I cannot wait to see what you have in store for us I wanna see that horndog be his authentic slutty self around reader finally 🗣️🗣️
Imagine a little roleplay scenario where reader dresses up as a cheerleader for gojo after he returns from winning some final match as a victory treat.
oh dear sweet baby jesus the scream i SCRUMPT AT THIS…HOW HAVE I NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT oh mygooodd that’d be so fuckin hot 😩😩😩 i ran to add that to my notes LOL my head is in my hands i need to write that so fucking bad. HIM RAILING HER WHILE SHE’s WEARING A SKIMPY LIL CHEERLEADER COSTUME AFTER HE JUST PLAYED AN INTENSE GAME babe u cooked w this ty
HAHAHA i feel like they would make a sex tape but they obv wouldnt post it or anything lol it’d just be something they’d do when they’re both drunk asf while on vacation in their hotel room n then they freak out once they get home n realize they lost the flashdrive n someone out there in barcelona is now jerking off to their amateur avante garde porno
And yeah what you said abt gojo's schedule being all over the place as a player I'd thought that too, which is why phone sex is 🔛🔝 for these two. Just two freaky frogs omg I know that dude sluts her out bad and she doesn't want it any other way
okay you’re so right ab cyber sex being (at least post grad) kickoff couple’s anthem 🤧 that “i wish u were here rn” yup. but also LMFAO THATS SO TRUE AB THE SLUTTIN HER OUT he’d have her so downbad she’s flashing her titties at the webcam just cuz she wants to see him cum all over his stomach while he’s jerking himself off to her pixels ✋🏼😩 i was not anticipating to start this day off so horny LOL
idk i like to think all the nudes kickoff gojo has received in his life have been raunchy asf so when he’s so desperate to get a glimpse of kickoff reader while he’s away for work n is like “babe send me a pic please” for the first time n she sends something that’s genuinely really tasteful n artistic n subtle but sexy n leaves a bit to the imagination i feel like that wld drive him more insane than any explicit nude ever would HAHAHAHA
THE DONG GOIN UP YOU COULD PERFORM TRIG ON IT IM CRYING babe i wish to be half as funny as you are some day 🤣🤣
thanks my lovee omg im so happy you’re looking forward to it :””) 💕 you’re my honeybunch sugarplum pumpyumpyumpkin i love yaaa
- ellie 🐸
#cannot stop thinkin ab that cheerleader roleplay#hhhhhhhhh#i genuinely think he’d lose his mind LMFAO#he’d get down on one knee#kickoff#asks#🪷 anon
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Lemme get a fuckin uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh training hcs for reader n hashiras like if reader was a new hashira n they were bein trained
You fuckin uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh got it LOL hope you enjoy!
......
Muichiro:
The second you became his tsuguko, he's been nothing but hard on you when it came to hand to hand combat
Like, dude might be a kid but he knows his shit. How else did he become a hashira after two months of being a demon slayer?
Any who, he actually offers constructive criticism, albeit it might come off a little harsh
But you quickly learned that this:
"Hey, panini head, you're supposed to angle your attack like this. Not this."
Actually is the way that he talks... yes, I headcanon that Muichiro is a Gordon Ramsey incarnate when it comes to advice, no I won't elaborate-
He doesn't hold back, not even for you
Like have you seen the way he fights?
Ya boi doesn't hold any mercy for battle
Overall, very good person to train under but be prepared to have to translate everything he says. His training isn't for the feign of heart
...
Mitsuri:
Ol' girl is so fucking supportive, which makes sense since her trainer was Rengoku
She allows breaks when you need it, especially if you're particularly fatigued that day
However, like her other comrades, she won't hold back. Just to simulate what a real battle feels like
L o a d s of praise! But often gives constructive criticism when it's needed
"Wow! That was great, your form is perfect! But I have to say, you could probably focus on breathing just a tad more so that way you don't pass out in battle. Staying alive is important you know!"
Comes off like a big sister, definitely very uplifting and inspiring
Overall, if you become her tsuguko she will absolutely dote on you all the while giving you the skills to become a great hashira
...
Obanai:
He had to learn really quick how to be nice
But he's a good trainer nonetheless, his criticisms might come off a little harsh, like Muichiro
Only this time he means for it to come off as rude, unlike Muichiro who doesn't know he's doing it
"Oi, your form sucks. Do it this way instead."
Yeeeaaaahhhhhh he's had multiple talks from the other hashira even from Ubuyashiki about treating you right
"So what're you saying? Treat them like my significant other?"
"Yeah basically, just without all the romance" - Tengen
But you never really minded his harsh demeanor in the first place, it helps you practice your bearings
When you guys are training together, it's no holds bard, full on battle simulation.
As in you actually have to try and kill him until he taps out
"OKAY TIME TIME JESUS CHRIST (Y/N)-"
The amount of times you've been to the butterfly mansion with Obanai
Shinobu is livid
Overall, just know that when you're training with Obanai, you'll have lots of scars from training alone. And you better have a very good perception of his criticism because he will be rude no matter what, even in his praise.
...
Sanemi:
Mans can get bloodlusted very quickly, so you have to be careful what you challenge him to as his tsuguko
Like with Obanai, he will push you to the point where you might have to do some serious harm to satisfy him in training
"Really? That's all you got? Hit me with something stronger!"
His praise is a lot like Mitsuri's, but still a little critical with his suggestions
"Look, you're doing fantastic. However you might want to consider, oh I don't know, actually hitting your target next time? Ya know, like you're supposed to do."
Oftentimes you're the one that has to stop the training session because something is about to give out. Usually it's your legs from all the running and jumping
He's very brotherly though, usually he'd bring you tea or some food after training and discuss what you could do better or what you did well in
And those are moments that let you see his true colors, just a caring dude who puts up a tough front
Overall, very pushy and enthusiastic about your training, but you can't help but see him as a great friend and you couldn't be happier to be training under him
...
Gyomei:
Gyomei is the polar opposite of you
He's calm, you're not LOL
Oftentimes you guys aren't even training, you're meditating. Mainly to keep your hot head out of your thoughts and focused on the task at hand
Like the other hashira, he won't hold back. But he will definitely be gentler with you if you are considerably smaller than him in stature
His criticisms are very gentle, almost to the point of being passive. But the message gets across nonetheless
"You did amazing, however, your technique could use a little work... how about we focus on that tomorrow?"
Definitely the fatherly type, always checking in on you before and after training and bringing you whatever you need
He sees you has his responsibility since you're under his training
Overall, very good to train under, but just be prepared to work hard regardless
...
Shinobu:
Very gentle, but also a little terrifying
The only reason why is that although she's very motherly and doting, she's secretly very bloodlusted (Giyuu would know-)
However, that doesn't take away from her very very motherly nature. She always makes sure you're fit enough for battle or training
If you're injured, be prepared to be on bed rest for at least three days, even if it's a minor cut or scrape
"You're injured, you're not doing anything"
"But, Master Kocho I'm fine I promise-"
"No. Rest, now. Come back to training in three days."
Shinobu will provide all of the advice you need, be it for training or otherwise
She's definitely not going to hold back though, she'll try and kill you if it means getting the proper training in
"Great job (Y/N)! Though... you do look a little banged up, sorry!"
Yeah definitely gets carried away with it
But overall she does a great job and frankly there's no one else you'd trust to train you
...
Giyuu:
You're concerned
The water hashira obviously knows what he's doing, but he hasn't had anyone under his training
So he's a little intimidated by the fact that he has someone else under his training, but that doesn't necessarily stop him
He offers a lot of room for you to work after throwing the basics at you, always making sure to correct and give pointers where it's needed
"Here, this is what I mean... does that make it a little more clear?"
A little condecending like Muichro but very uplifting like Mitsuri
His cynicism can worry you sometimes but you quickly realized that's just the way he is
However he does open up a little more, just to encourage you to be open about yourself and what you need from him
He's a lot like an older brother, definitely will take care of you during training
But like all the other hashiras, he doesn't hold back, but he's not like Obanai or Shinobu when it comes to the intensity
Overall, great person to have under their wing
...
Rengoku:
So where do we start? Lol
Praise, and lots of it
"Excellent work (Y/N)!"
But will definitely point out what you need work on
"Your sword stance is perfect, but you do need to work on your aim a bit, nevertheless though you're still doing a fantastic job as always my tsuguko."
HEAD PATS FOR DAYS-
This man makes you feel appreciated and like your efforts are never in vain
He offers his council when you need it, allowing you to talk about anything and everything on your mind
More of a mentor if anything, he's always got something positive to say about almost any situation
Overall super cool to train with, Mitsuri would know, and now you will too!
...
Tengen:
Mans isn't really concerned about form and skill
He's concerned about your flashiness on the battlefield LMAO
Okay but in all honesty, he's a former shinobi ninja and a hashira now
Need I say more?
You're definitely in good hands, his wives would more than likely help out too
He will give you accessories for your uniform that are completely impractical but hey at least they look good
"Master Uzui do I really need to wear this?"
"Yes, because I refuse to let you go into battle looking so plain and boring."
Aside from all of this though, he's very very helpful and offers a lot of advice even when it's not needed
"Okay so a couple of things; sword form is great, technique is phenomenal, however you gotta breathe (Y/N). Can't have you dying out there."
Like his other hashira comrades, he won't hold back but he's considerably more gentle only because he's knows his strength
Oh yeah and he gives hugs, like lots and lots of hugs
He just wants to make sure you're okay after every training session, not to mention now that you're his tsugoku he cares about you like a lot
Overall, he'll dote on you like he does with his wives but be prepared to be worked to the bone
...
This took so much brainpower now my head is mush lol but I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you want to see next!
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#demon slayer headcanons#kny headcanons#kimetsu no yaiba headcanons
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liveblogging dragons rising
all thoughts under the cut!
this is so pretty so far
oh this is a lesbian. kreel is like if the mad hatter was a lesbian
LOBBO IS MY NEW FAVORITE CHARACTER
"i'm going to kill your whole family" GOOD LIRD THIS IS DARK
"I THINK I MADE A BOMB" JSHFKJSKDJF
"elemental powers are complicated" yea dude they sure are
THEYRE BROTHERS YOUR HONOR
oh why is it RAIyu and not REEyu. i thought they were riffing off the japanese word for dragon for his name (ryuu)
lobbo my BEST FRIEND
oh THATS why cole's memorial thing was in the trailer. i see.
is this dorama guy here to . here to c. here to cause drama
(he's so fun actually i like him)
Oh What The Fuck
oh shit the showman is coming back?? excited
kai is fuckin dead
SCIENTIST LADY 😳😳😳😳😳😳
oh wait. if all imperium ppl have those markings, is this like the secret markings humans have? but visible? bc that'd be cool
my friend: [the cragling mud] looks like their eyes. i don't like that.
buddy why are you excited to eat mud...... buddy........... arin.....
sometimes i can still hear his voice 😔😔😔
dragon = nuke
THE CLOUD FUCKING KINGDOM ARE YOU KIDDING ME
thats a fucking mindflayer. what the fuck.
WHAT
THE NEW MASTER OF WIND??????? IS A CLOUD KINGDOM MONK??????? HUHHHHHHHH WHAT THE FUCK
i hate the cloud kingdom. whyyyyy is it the way that it is
my friend: it is interesting that the cloud kingdom is confirmed to be full of shit
WHAT IS THIS BOOKWORM LITTLE THING. I LOVE THEM CAN I HAVE TWENTY
alright time to see this so-called wind master
why does she sound like a self-insert 😭
EUPHRASIA?!?!?!!?!!!??!!?!?!?!?
*insert the crying of everyone with a morro lives / morro redemption au*
(like its fine for canon but alterline is weeping)
me: [the wolf] is a hologram with mass!
my friend: that means it matters :)
sora has protagonist hair jdkfhgkjdfgkjh
oh!!! the imperium markings come in with age :0 or maybe they're a rank thing idk yet
ohhhhh the scientist lady (dr larrow?) is her role model :0
[this is the point where i lost subtitles lol]
did those kids call sora anna?
WOMANNNNNNNN
"sora? the ancient imperium word for orphan?" HELLO??????
me: i want to kiss [larrow] on the mouth
my friend: why do you want to go for the villain
me: she's hot
my friend: women in stem!
BRO SHE JUST GOT DISOWNED. JESUS CHRIST.
dr. lampshade floorpanel and dr doyll donmagar.......
lloyd: what's the shaming floor
my friend: twitter
sora: its a livestream
me: so its twitch
i forgot to write this down but arin is the new master of SPIN
PERCIVAL TARTIGRADE
STOP DEADNAMING SORA LET HER BE NONBINARY
get flashbanged idiots
oh!!!! wildfire was raised by dragons!!! thats so fun
what is happening- OH WILDFIRE
friend: do you remember atla? the dragons
why is wu's ghost haunting the monastery
my friend: its a wu-o-wisp!
TINY LLOYD WITH SAM VINCENT'S VOICE IS SO FUNNY JKHGSFKDSKDJH really couldn't get jillian michaels
OH AND THE S10 GI ON A BABY LLOYD LMAOOOOO
"this looks like a monastery!" no the fuck it doesn't you're in an underground Chamber
DONT LET THE FUCKING GOLDEN WEAPONS REPEAT
sora: i can't use my true potential
my friend: then use your fake potential
mmmmm beatrix hot woman :]
I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS CELESTIA, PRINCESS OF EQUESTRIA
my friend: i wanna see someone overlay this dialogue on top of footage of celestia
MEANERY
they're seriously gonna torture a BABY DRAGON?????
hehehe ras ear twitch :3
LLOYD HAS A CONCUSSION
THE GHOST OF MASTER WU
ZANE IS IN THE FUCKING EGG????
ZANE WAS IN CRYO??????
WHERE ARE JAY COLE AND PIX. WHERE ARE THEY
my friend, in response to sora's name reveal: we named the dog indiana
me: jay and cole are off on their honeymoon
my friend: they're in the bahamas
"there can't be two elemental masters of fire! it doesn't make sense! also its rude!"
THE IMPOSSIBLE KID
STOP DEADNAMING HERRRRRRRR
miss beatrix can i kiss you on the mouth
i warned you about those stairs bro :y
THE DRAGON TALKS?????? and why does it sound like unagami
OH HES BIG
a conduit?????? changed forever????? 👀👀👀👀
he gettin ZOOMED
me and my friend: DID LLOYD DIE??? AGAIN????
now lloyd and arin BOTH have concussions!
oh he glowin
your holograms appear to be glitching maam
I WARNED YOU ABOUT THOSE STAIRS BRO :y
rapton is very pathetic
LLOYD'S WAR FLASHBACKS OH NO
lloyd voice i'm adopting you arin
OOP RAS IS CAPTURED. THIS IS ANTI-FURRY
oh. she has a mech.
so that means the weird green ghosty guy (and jay/cole/pix) are in season 2 :0 i'm so excitedddddd
final thoughts this was cool as shit. i loved this very much. ouoUOAUOAUAOAUOU
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Holy Diver
Chapters: 1, 2, 3
Summary: POV: you have a crush on a catholic priest having a crisis of faith
Rating: M/Mature
Warnings: cussing, heresy, very long paragraphs
A/N: I’m definitely going to hell for this one. I’m blaming William Peter Blatty, William Friedkin, and Jason Miller for making Damien Karras a very loveable and friend shaped character. If you’re not cool with the idea of sleeping with a grief stricken and religiously challenged Catholic priest, I understand, and I highly recommend you not read this fic. I’m taking some creative liberties with both the exact time of year the movie is set as well as the map of the area the movie is set in. If someone is thinking “well actually” about this, you’re having redditor thoughts about a smut. What are you doing with your life?
Chapter 3: me, myself, my bullshit, and a man that society says is unfuckable
Who in the fuck calls at this hou-oh. How is it 2:30 pm?! “Hello?” I try to not sound rude on the phone, “I wasn’t given a name, but I was given this number in the offering plate today during mass.” a kind and curious voice was audible through the phone. They fucking did it. “I’m incredibly sorry father, a friend of mine thought it would be really funny to put my number into the collection plate.”, he asked where my friend would get an idea like that. How do I tell a priest that I’m going to jump out a window in embarrassment? “My friends are really”, I paused, holding in my want to use an expletive, “annoying. Please excuse their”, can’t say bullshit in this context, “nonsense.”
He asked if I was ok considering the pauses I was taking to calculate my words, well, he’s already heard my bullshit at the bar. “To put it frankly, I’m censoring myself so I don’t accidentally spew heresy in your presence. Before you ask, I wasn’t raised Catholic, I just know there’s some things you can’t say in front of a priest”, “I actually was put through medical school and trained in psychiatry through the society of Jesus” he explained. I fucking lost it, he probably thinks I’m having a mental breakdown or a Satanist if I’m laughing at that, I should explain. “I am so fuckin’ sorry, man, whenever someone says the word society, I can’t take the subject matter seriously. I have no idea why.” I rambled, aw shit, I said ‘fuck’ in front of a priest. I’m already going to Hell, might as well take the fastest route possible.
I heard a noise I didn’t expect - a giggle. He’s laughing, I laughed at something about him, and he’s laughing. “Why did your friend put your number in the offering plate. If it makes you feel more at ease, you can think of me as a psychiatrist.” Damien assured me. I asked if he remembered those women at the bar who were laughing and someone mentioned killing themselves and then they went to the restroom together, he asked if that was my friends and I. I explained that no we weren’t drunk or high, we’re just - weird, and no, none of us actually wanted to kill ourselves, I’m just an edgy bastard. Things you don’t say to a priest or a psychiatrist, well, at least he doesn’t know I would accept his company in bed. I heard another snicker, are you fucking kidding right now? This dude, I swear to god. What next is he going to ask, “would you want to meet up at that bar today or this evening?” goddammit, he must be a telepath. I accepted his offer, I can already hear my friends giggling and making stupid remarks about this.
Unlike other people in my situation, I’m not going to dress up in a figure hugging outfit and show off my physique as well as wearing the most uncomfortable shoes solely because they make my legs look better and add sex appeal to my appearance. I don’t have time for that shit, nor do I feel comfortable in that attire, I like to look shapeless and ominous, thank you very much. Besides, you look at the weather and tell me it’s appropriate to look like a generic centerfold you find in a smut magazine. It’s like in the lower thirties outside, though dying of frostbite and hypothermia might get me out of meeting with a certain priest, I don’t think he’d appreciate that. Donning an appropriate layering of clothes, I make my trek to the same bar from last night. Alone. Nobody to hide behind or make an excuse to hide in the restroom with. It’s just me, myself, my bullshit, and a man that society says is unfuckable.
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dude i am so fucking sorry for some of the weirdos in ur inbox jesus fuckin christ. y'all know for a fact some of these dudes can say the most rude vile shit on the internet behind the anon feature but if they had to do it on their main they'd be wailing and crying and throwing up everywhere
RIGHT like. speak with your whole chest. it’s annoying frankly but aside from that you really can’t expect someone to actually treat you seriously when you’re using the anon option to be shitty.
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Man I don't wanna be rude or anything but y'all have GOT to fuckin put ur long ass short stories under a read-more if you're gonna blaze it like fuck dude I don't wanna block you but I will if this shit shows up JESUS
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People are so fucking rude and childish. Like they literally only think about themselves and what concerns them with zero thought of the impact on others.
I love my fucking job. I’m so damn good at my job. But Jesus fuck dude the PEOPLE are going to be the death of me. The longer I do this, the more I realize I really do hate people. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve met some cool fucks and it’s been great. But like 90% of them I just want to old yeller.
Especially the grown ass fucks that act like 14 year old girls. Grow the fuck up, say what you feel with your chest and keep peoples name out yo fuckin mouth.
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can you please stop tagging all your personal/whatever posts as 'not mdzs' it always shows up in the search results... none of us are interested in your rats or your dirty kitchen or what you did at work today. please just stop. you're not even a mdzs blog, everything you post is not mdzs.
I have been thinking abt changing it or just getting rid of it all together because I was made aware a few weeks ago that those posts still show up in the main tag. you're being a fucking bitch tho lol
#actually everybody cares about my rats and my dirty kitchen xoxo 🥰#good god who fucking raised you dude? just block me if it gets you that mad....#sorry but I'm at the end of my patience today and this is So unnecessarily rude and snotty I feel Violent#you could have easily just been like hey btw when you tag things that way it still shows up in the main tag so could you change it#but instead you decided to act like this.... whats wrong with you jesus christ#I'm soooo done today can't fucking Stand you people#ask#anon#was gonna come up w a new tag but like. whatever man#if you don't like my personal posts or when I reblog posts abt other things you shoulda just blocked me by now#unlike this fuckin person#good god none of you can behave yourself today#and I'm always worried people are annoyed by my unrelated posts so this is just so....#like fuck off dude#just block me jesus christ#complain on your blog about how I'm an annoying bitch but if you're coming into my inbox learn some goddamn manners#like fucking jesus christ man
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housesitting | bucky barnes x reader
summary: Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything.
You can hardly see how Bucky Barnes stumbling into his apartment at 3 am with multiple wounds is one of them. But I guess it might be?
notes: this is my attempt at a more ~comedy centered one-shot, with some making out in the middle because uh, who doesn’t like that? In other news, reader is Chaotic. Canon mcu (Infinity War/Endgame) is non-existent in this. (word count: 3K)
warnings: language, mentions of blood, gunshot wounds, general patching up shenanigans, some making out/grinding but not quite third base
[PART 2: breaking and entering]
Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything. An old popsicle thing, you assume.
It’s peaceful, too. The neighborhood is nice and quiet, the other tenants are either extremely polite or too scared of Captain America to make much noise. You’ve had very nice stay-cations at his place, where you were free to choose to binge The Office while eating an entire pizza in the spam of 2 episodes or taking advantage of the quiet to write your grad-school thesis.
So when a loud BANG almost makes you drop your coffee mug on the floor, your spidey senses are immediately on alert. You don’t care how many times Peter insisted that it wasn’t a thing, your arm hairs stood up and your heart started hammering on your chest all the same.
You contemplate squeezing under the bed, turning off the show that was long abandoned and hiding until whatever it is goes away, but before you can do any of that, a string of sharp cursing and soft thumps and thuds snaps you out of your fear.
Maybe it’s a burglar. You could take a clumsy burglar, easy.
Now feeling like Tony had just welcomed you into the Avengers, you hop off Steve’s bed and let your baby Yoda socked feet carry you stealthily into the living room, holding a table lamp as if it was a baseball bat.
Everything is quiet, with no signs of forced entry at the door (you remember someone on Law and Order using those words), and in the dark you don’t notice the bloody trail coming from the kitchen.
You’re imagining things, then. When was the last time you slept? You don’t even feel tired, but you know sleep deprivation always gets you all kinds of crazy.
It happens the second your arm falls to your side and your posture shows the slight of relaxation. A strong arm around your neck and a hand against your mouth to muffle the screaming.
In the quiet of Steve’s apartment building, there is only you shrieking and howling and thrashing against the hold of a stranger.
“Don’t fuckin’ move.” You still.
And then you bite into the hand that is muting you, immediately regretting it when your teeth sink into something hard. Metal? Concrete? Ouch. You resume your resistance, determined, and is shoved away.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Who the fuck are you.” His voice is gruff and dulled over the mask he is wearing, and as you’re taking this giant of a man in, you notice it.
The metal arm. The strapped leather jacket. The tortured blue eyes.
Winter Soldier.
The intruder is James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve’s best friend. That’s who the fuck it is.
“I’m Steve’s house sitter! I even have a key.” You say, with arms in front of you to signal no harm but inching closer to the table lamp with every step.
“House…sitter? Where’s Steve?”
“Who knows. Maybe a mission. He texts me, I come over.” You shrug, and put a chair back to where it was before it got knocked over.
“I don’t believe you. Where is Steve?”
“Listen, I don’t know, okay? I guess he’s just out for a few days. I don’t ask. He just lets me stay in here so I can water the plants and feed the Avengers.”
“The– the what?”
“The Avengers! The fish, see.” You point to the aquarium, where a handful of colorful fish swam peacefully in.
Peace. So much for your peace, because now what you have is a surly super soldier eyeing the fish tank like it was the most loathsome thing in the entire universe, except maybe for you.
“I hate this thing. Naming them makes it even worse.” He trudges back to the kitchen, stomping on the floor like he was on a parade.
So much for the other people’s peace, too.
“Hey! Sir. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s 3 in the fucking morning?” You sass, putting your hands on your hips when he retorts that yeah, he does know. “What are you even doing here?”
“Back from a mission.” He grumbles without looking at you, as if you’re the one who stumbled into his place in the middle of the night.
It wasn’t your place, but still.
“Don’t you have a house?” There’s a part of you that knows pushing the Winter Soldier’s buttons is asking for trouble, but your tired and confused brain decides to ignore it.
“You interrogating me? I need a motherfucking– ” He wheezes and nearly doubles over, holding on the door frame between the living room and the kitchen. You finally spot the blood, both on the tiles and seeping out of the Soldier’s jacket and pants.
He’s hurt. Shit.
“– first aid kit.”
“You need a motherfucking hospital!” You shrill, panic chilling your bones. You don’t do blood. Or any kind of wound, for that matter.
The man ignores you, opening up cabinets hastily. You huff, and walk past him to get to the actual home of the first aid kit. Steve’s oldest, closest friend and can’t even find a box with pharmaceutical supplies in his kitchen. You slam it on the counter next to him.
“You’re welcome.”
“Zip it.”
Just a look from him is enough to render you speechless, and not in the good, butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of way. You’re positive that one swat of that metal arm and you’ll be flying out of the window.
He begins by removing his mask, revealing a handsome face underneath, and you try your best to focus on how dark and menacing it looked while locked in that scowl of his. Then, he unbuckles his jacket and discards it on the floor, it coming to a stop next to your feet.
Oh man, he’s naked. Well, not really, just the incredibly toned, strong and muscular top half of him, but you stare wide-eyed as if he was.
“See somethin’ you like, doll?” He quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you turn your back to him, mostly to hide your own embarrassment.
“No.” You cross your arms resolutely, because you definitely don’t think he’s attractive. He is a rude, grumpy, private-property-invader-bastard. Doll. Yuck.
You hear a rumble come out of his chest. Is he laughing? Shithead. Other noises follow, wheezes, small grunts and the tinkle of metal on the marble counter.
A particular pained grunt makes you turn, and you see Barnes with his body twisted, trying to reach a bloody hole on his back. It would be funny if he wasn’t trying to poke a gunshot.
“Do you need… help?” You ask, against your own will, only to be met with his icy gaze.
“No.”
“Come on, you can’t even reach that.”
Another glare is shot your way, and you quirk your brow up. He did need the help, you think, because aside from the muscles and the sweat making him glisten like a delicious – wait what – glazed donut, the man looked like hell.
“…fine.” He slides a pair of surgical prongs, something you identify in your head as oversized tweezers, and you instantly regret your offer. Pressing an iodine-soaked cotton ball to a wound, sure. But not this.
He turns his back to you without a word, supporting himself on the marble. You think that he’s about to make a dent on the goddamn stone if he keeps holding onto it that hard.
“Ah, fuck. Shit. Fuck. Ugh, it’s so gross. Fuck.”
It’s the most horrifying thing you’ve ever done, but you try your best to get to the bullet quickly, so very thankful that Barnes holds himself perfectly still for you. “Got it!”
He lets out a long breath when you toss the prongs and the bullet on the counter with the rest and resumes his cleanup. So, he’s not even going to say thanks. Great.
You try not to think about how you still want to make conversation while you hurriedly scrub the blood from your hands, because aside from the hostility and him jumping on you as a meet-cute, the guy peeks your interest.
Steve has said Barnes is nice, too, and you believed Steve, because he’s basically incapable of lying. Or maybe because he’s pretty. Both, for sure.
With your hands now clean, you turn to him, mouth open with some kind of conversation starter that is immediately forgotten.
Oh man, he’s naked. For real this time.
Bucky Barnes has stepped out of his pants while you were overthinking by the sink, now standing in only a pair of black boxers. It’s like he feels you staring at his butt, because he turns to you with raised eyebrows.
“Last one’s on my thigh. I got it.” He’s holding the prongs this time, and you’re glad you don’t have to do anything, because your face next to that groin might make you go into spontaneous combustion.
“Yeah.”
He hums. You hope all of this is a fever dream.
“Isn’t there a med bay at–”
“Don’t like people prodding and pokin’ at me.” His comment makes you grimace. He’s the Winter Soldier, damn it. You know the stories, everyone does. Of course he doesn’t like being prodded.
He looks at you funny, probably because you went dead quiet. You don’t want him to think you feel pity, because you don’t, but god don’t you feel bad for poking him now, even if verbally.
“I’m gonna – grab one of Steve’s – uh. Dude you need to put some clothes on. Jesus.”
He laughs at you again, which you’re thankful for because anything is better than the awkwardness of the other subject. You pick up a black pair of sweatpants that was so deep in one of Steve’s drawers that you know he’d have to have bought it and never had the guts to put it on. This one would do just fine.
If there is one thing Steve Rogers isn’t, is a black sweats guy.
“Here.” You deposit the sweats and a white tee on the counter, one of the millions that you found inside the closet. Barnes was patching himself up now, bandages wrapped everywhere on his body.
Got his ass kicked good. You shudder when you imagine the state of the other guy.
He eyes the clothes, and saying nothing, returns to his task. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“I didn’t ask you to help me.”
“Yeah, but I did anyways! ‘Cause I’m stupid, I guess.” You almost hurl a dirty plate at him when he scoffs, muttering a yeah, guess you are. “God, why are you so grumpy?”
“Well you try being shot 5 times and see how cheerful you are after.”
“You got shot 5 times?!”
Looking at you from between his brows, the Soldier nods to the five mangled bullets sitting on the counter. You think about how you’ve made yourself a sandwich just hours earlier on the exact same spot. You want to puke.
Taking time to look around yourself, you can finally grasp the state of Steve’s ever-so-pristine kitchen, now a mess of dirty clothes, blood and your own few dishes from the night before. You don’t even think about what you’re doing as you move, gathering every single cleaning supply you can find, and start working on the cleanup.
You’re struggling, because obviously you’ve never done this before. Anyone can tell, from your soft abdomen and your severe lack of muscle, that you’re not an Avenger. Sure, you work with them, but you’re usually neck deep into advanced tech, not in the gym by any means. Also, you don’t do blood.
That means you have to think about something else, anything else, while you’re manically cleaning the floor. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, the Winter Soldier’s tight ass, four sheep, get it together goddamnit –
“Leave it. I’ll clean.”
You huff, he huffs back, and you look up at him.
“You got shot five times. Go sit down or something before you blow your back too, grandpa.” You call him that to assure yourself that he is old, like actually super old, and thirsting over him is weird. Even weirder when he’s all bandaged and bleeding. And still shirtless. Shit.
He mumbles something that you ignore, and stomps off. You think you actually did a pretty decent job with the cleaning, considering.
You need coffee. Definitely an entire bottle of vodka too, but there was no alcohol in this god’s good home, so you settle for the brew that you made earlier. You pour a mug for Barnes too, because you’re nice like that, and amble into the living room to find him slumped on a chair.
“Coffee?” You start, settling his mug on the table next to him.
“It’s almost 5 a.m.”
“Guess I’m up early for once. Maybe I should go for a run.”
He snorts, and opens one eye to inspect you from where he is. He reaches out for the coffee, using his metal hand, and you consider the two ways this could go.
He’d shatter the mug right then and there. Or, he’d throw it at you. Your jaw goes slack at what he actually does, sirens blaring loudly in your head. Truly astonishing, the most bewildering turn of events.
He drinks from it.
“Thanks. Quit staring at me.”
“Wow, Mr. Winter knows the magic words. Mr. Barnes. Sergeant?” You’re thinking aloud, abandoning any trace of sanity you’ve been holding. You even sit on the couch next to his armchair.
“It’s Bucky,”
Again, absolutely bewildering. You must be going insane.
“– and you talk too much.” He finishes, with an end-of-story tone, and returns to his rest. At least that felt like normality.
“Bucky. Bucky.” You roll the name on your tongue, feeling a weird buzz start to take over you. It grows stronger when you notice he’s looking at you, one brow quirked as if you lost your marbles. “You know, Bucky, this is definitely not how I saw my night going. Home invasion, playing surgeon – not my usual kind of fun.”
You get up, maybe because you decide that you – and Bucky – need a blanket, or maybe because you need a distraction from his chest going up and down like it’s got a business with making you want to touch it.
You’re not a slut, but who knows? Jim Halper would get it.
“You’re that kid, aren’t you? Stark’s assistant.” Bucky’s voice, low and husky, makes you jump. You look at him, your eyebrows furrowed slightly.
It’s surprising that he knows you, considering. He’s – well, he’s basically a celebrity, if ex-assassins could be considered that. You’re only Tony’s techie, and you and Bucky have never actually met, not even in the few parties you had attended to stop your boss from nagging you that you had to actually go out and have some fun sometimes, because you’re still young and cute and you need to enjoy yourself before you get saggy and bitter.
Jokes on him, you were born bitter.
“I’m no kid.”
“Nice socks.”
You wiggle your toes and it makes the ears of one of the baby Yodas move.
“Still not a kid! If you wanna be sad and wear your sad, plain socks, Bucky, that’s entirely your choice.” You said, pointing your index at him, making circles in the air with it to really get your point across.
Bucky smirks, and you go up to him with the two blankets on your arms. He’s blocking the door with that bulky body of his, and you raise your eyebrows quizzically.
“I’ll have you know – meeting Steve’s annoying, mouthy, pretty house sitter is not how I saw my night going either.” Bucky puts a doubtful tone on house sitter, as if he still doesn’t get exactly what it means.
You blink. You’re positive you heard it wrong. Is he… is this flirting?
“You think I’m pretty?”
“I called you annoying and mouthy too.”
“Yeah, I mean I know that much about me.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “The pretty part is new though.”
Bucky still hasn’t moved from the doorframe, and you find yourself staring up at him. He is inches away now, pupils blown wide in the darkness, and you can see a ring of steely blue around them. He licks his lips, and you’re drawn in.
The maelstrom in his eyes sends you spinning.
“I think someone should say you’re not see through, much less–”
Bucky shuts you up by pressing his lips onto yours, a slow, exploratory kiss, the tenderest he’s been all night. His metal hand rests on your lower back, making you shiver at the cool touch.
You’re all panting and eagerness when you cup his face with both hands and press your body against his. You need to deepen this kiss. You haven’t drooled over Bucky Barnes all night to keep things lovey-dovey.
He responds in earnest, pulling you closer. The flesh hand on the back of your neck is a stark contrast against the chill of the other. You and Bucky stumble from the corridor and back to the living room, knocking over a few of Steve’s decorations in the process.
“I don’t feel as bad for this one.” You mumble against his lips, stopping to look at a particular framed picture of Captain America in uniform, surrounded by every single counterfeit Cap in Times Square.
“S’ one of his favorites.”
You nod, you’re aware. Steve thinks it’s the most hilarious thing ever.
Bucky’s breath tickles the hairs on your neck when he continues.
“I hate it.”
“Yeah.”
You capture his lips again, and you two resume your chaotic redecorating. You’re thankful for Bucky’s strong arms keeping you from falling over, because at this point you’re not sure if your legs work anymore.
He takes you with him when he drops down on the same armchair from earlier, and the dizzy spell you find yourself in is broken when you hear him groan.
Right. He’s battered up and stuff.
“Shit, Bucky, I’m sorry–”
“No.” He pulls you close again, and guides your body to straddle one of his thighs. “Stay right here, doll.”
Doll. God-fucking-damnit.
His hand moves under the elastic band of your pants, oh my god you’re making out with Bucky-Hot-Piece-Of-Ass-Barnes in your wiener dog pajama bottoms, and finds the hem of your underwear. He pulls on it, and you yelp when he lets it snap against your side.
He laughs, and you vibrate along with his chest.
You find yourself grinding on his leg, sucking on his bottom lip, raking your nails along his shoulders, doing anything, everything for more, trying to burn the taste and the feel of him on your memory. He moves on to kiss your neck and you sigh, tugging on his hair and making sure you’re holding on for dear life.
Your eyes flutter open, enough to see the fish Avengers in their tank.
The Avengers.
Steve Rogers is an Avenger. So is Bucky, technically.
You’re making out with Bucky. One of his hands is on your boob.
This is Steve’s apartment.
You manage to sober you up enough, despite Bucky’s constant attacks of open mouth kisses and bites on your neck.
“I don’t think Steve would – if we–” You lift your head begrudgingly to look at him. “You know, on his armchair.”
“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced, but his hand moved up from your butt to your waist again.
Steve Rogers was probably miles away right now and still cockblocking you.
Even worse, his furniture was cockblocking you.
Stupid star-spangled IKEA shopper.
And his hot best friend. Who’s currently smiling at you in a such a way that makes you almost abandon all comradery towards Rogers and the sanctity of his place.
You debate getting up, but resign yourself to burying your nose in the crook of Bucky’s neck and just staying there, because honestly, when are you going to have the chance to do this again. Never, that’s when.
Also, he’s surprisingly comfortable for someone with a metal arm and such a jacked-up body.
“You’re sleepy.”
“No, I’m like, super awake.”
It’s a lie, because now that the sparks have flown and the rush of blood in your ears gave way to the quietness of the early morning, you feel yourself drifting, on and off, surprising yourself when you come to once and find that Bucky is still there, warm under you.
“Sleep, doll. I need it too.”
You shift, ready to let his rhythmic breathing lull you to sleep. The last 75 sleepless hours catch up with you.
“Bucky? If you want to break into someone’s house again sometime – I have a first aid kit too. Just sayin’.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x y/n#avengers x reader#emwrites
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BESTIE, YOUR CHAPTERS ARE ALL I LOOK FORWARD TO AT THE END OF EACH WEEK. I'M SO EXCITED AAAAAAAAAAAA. PLS INDULGE US INTO MORE OF THE CRAZY SHENANIGANS EREN HAS DONE INVOLVING HIS CAREER. IMAGINE HIM DOING A BUZZFEED THIRST TWEETS WITH THE REST OF EMPIRE.
DUDE THANK YOU!!!! AND OMG YES THIRST TWEETS!!! Here, I'll share my headcanons
Eren
gets endless amount of thirst tweets every week. every goddamn week. and he doesn't even have a twitter/instagram account.
does not give a single fuck about people thirsting over him
he thinks it's despicable when people appreciate his music because of his looks and not because of his talent
bored ™ 99.9999999% of the time when he reads them
a lot of the thirst tweets he receives are about his abs (from that one time he took off his shirt on the stage jesus fuckin christ), his voice, his jawlines, and, of course, his hair
his thirst tweets are really, really thirsty
they'd be like, "I'll let Eren Jaeger from Empire slit my throat with his jawline every fucking day" or "send Eren Jaeger my fucking way I HAVE HANDS AND I HAVE HOLES AND I AM WILLING TO PUT THEM TO GOOD USE" or "Eren Jaeger can honestly sit on my face, suffocate me with his balls and my ghost will say thank you daddy" or "just spent my evening thinking about softly running my fingers through Eren Jaeger's hair as I ride his fucking tongue"
his response is usually just: takes a deep breath as he runs his eyes quickly through the tweet, stares into the camera and says, "you need help. seriously."
sometimes he doesn't even say anything. he just takes out the tiny paper from the jar, silently reads through it with boredom written on his face, crumples the paper with one hand and tosses it down to the floor
the staff would be like "you're not gonna read it out loud?" and he's like "you don't want me to read that out loud."
if he finds the tweet to be amusing, he'll read it out loud slowly as he faintly smirks to himself but that's just about it
more often than not he just goes "no" *throws paper* "no" *throws paper* "no" *throws paper* until there are no papers left in the jar, then he'll look at the camera, smile cynically and say, "this is why I don't have a twitter account and I'm never gonna make one, thanks guys" (credit to @justasketch for this one)
Jean
fucking loves thirst tweets. eats them as breakfast every morning. it boosts up his self-esteem.
intentionally does dirty things on the stage to get even more thirsty tweets coming his way
takes every thirst tweet like a goddamn compliment
he could get a tweet like "i don't even really like chocolate but god knows i'd lick chocolate off Jean Kirschtein's body any day" and he'd be like, smirking at the camera while saying, "sweetheart, the real question is, what part of the body?"
responds with very dirty words that buzzfeed has to cut off his sentence short. there's this tweet that says "can i just suffocate Jean Kirschtein with my boobs already?" and he'd say shit like "well, baby girl, why don't you suffocate me with your boobs while I stick my fucking coc--" and the camera changes back to eren
is secretly hoping to get the nastiest tweets out there so when he got something like "Jean Kirschtein's personality is so perfect, he can softly punch me in the face with his lips" he'd be "what, that's it??? COME ON, EREN GOT SOMEONE SAYING SHIT ABOUT EATING HIS DICK FOR BREAKFAST AND I GOT COMPLIMENTS ON MY PERSONALITY??? SERIOUSLY???"
didn't get as many tweets as Eren did during their buzzfeed thirst tweets and it pissed him off for days
sometimes when he lies on his bed at night, he can still hear eren's voice when he read his thirst tweets. it just haunts him everyday.
Reiner
does not understand the concept of thirst tweets. he just thinks people are being super weird. or rude.
ones that he does understand, make him blush so hard, he covers his face with both hands
says "oh god" or "dear lord" many times as he reads
gets almost as many thirst tweets as Jean, but they revolve more around his ass. or about him destroying someone's ass.
is not familiar with the dirty slangs
or scientific ones
he could get a tweet like "I want Reiner Braun to wreck my mucous membrane" and he'd be like "what's, uh... what--which--what mucous membrane are we talking about?"
"Reiner Braun always makes me jizz a little bit" and he'd respond with a frown, asking the staff "do women jizz? I don't--I had no idea."
there was this tweet that went "Reiner Braun is the only one I can trust to destroy my bussy" and he was like "what's a bussy?" and when the staff told him "it's their butt" it took him a good ten minutes just staring at the paper to process the thought and contemplate his life choices
gets pretty nasty tweets too, like "I'd lick Reiner Braun's butthole from balls to back every day, anywhere he wants" and he'll look like he's on the verge of throwing up, saying "our Lord does not appreciate this kind of talking"
#this was fun! thanks for submitting this ask anon!#eren smut#jean smut#reiner smut#eren headcanons#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#eren yeager#eren#jean kirschtien#reiner braun#the last song canon
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Damage
Request: You meet JB in a bar and have a one-night stand
A/N: My friend has asked me for JB fics none stop. I haven’t been able to finish one, because I get stuck in my head and think everything is trash. I think this one is okay, at best. I’ve edited as much as my eyes can stand. Either way, she seemed to enjoy it. I hope you all enjoy it in some way too. Much Love, Jenn
p.s. It’s named Damage because I literally had the song of the same name from H.E.R playing on repeat the entire time.
Jaebum X Reader
Genre: SmUt
Words:5534
Warnings: semi-public sex, rough play, some ass-slaping - you get the picture -
There was a time that the idea of sleeping with a complete stranger from a bar would’ve never crossed your mind. It wasn’t that you were a prude. A part of you secretly wanted to know what it felt like to be so overwhelmed by another that they made you less cautious and more adventurous. No one ever seemed able to stir that emotion in you, however.
Until you’d met JB.
Now, as his fingers traced across your skin, his lips kissed at the hollow of your neck, you couldn’t imagine an alternate universe where you didn’t say yes. Where you weren’t pressed into the backseat of a stuffy cab not caring that you had an audience while JB’s hand made its way between your thighs. His mouth hungrily lapping up your moan as his fingers slid under the edge of your panties.
A part of you should’ve felt embarrassed. You were passengers in this cab. The obvious audience of the older man up front would’ve normally made you shove his hand away with your cheeks pink; pretending to care if they watched.
But JB was a force you weren’t used to. One that threatened to consume you and god, did you want to be consumed.
EARLIER
————————-
“Come on, Y/N. You can’t be sad forever about that asshole.”
Your fingers skimmed the paper of your beer smearing an image of a heart in the condensation. Your teeth drawing in your bottom lip as you thought about what your friend was saying. Of course, she was right. It was two weeks, give or take, since you broke up with Mark. You’d had your days of wallowing, eating copious amounts of ice cream, and crying on the couch watching rom-coms and asking why can’t your life be like this?
There wasn’t any doubt your ex wasn’t off doing the same. Hell, he’d made sure to take pictures of his latest escapades and made sure to share it to his social media. Not that you were looking at any of it or anything.
“You’re right,” you huffed out in defeat.
Why was it so hard to let him go? It wasn’t like he’d had such a hard time deciding to end your relationship.
“I’m sorry. What was that? Can you say it a little louder for me please I’m hard of hearing.”
You shot her a look of disbelief that sent her head falling back with laughter.
“This one time you might be a little bit right.”
You took a swig of your drink to hide your own smile.
“Plus, how can you be sad over that loser when the hottest dude is five feet away.”
You followed her eyes to see what had her making such a bold claim. There were plenty of good looking men and women in the bar. How could one person possibly hold the title when your opinion could be different?
It wasn’t.
You found him easily. No longer needing the guide of your friend to find who it was that’d caught her attention. And sweet Jesus he was hands down the best looking in the room.
He was leaning up against the wall. His eyes half crescent moons as he smiled. One hand holding a beer that was close to his lips as he replied back to whatever his friend said. You shamelessly watched how his lips wrapped around the bottle to take a drink. The sharpness of his jaw and the expanse of his neck.
You wanted to know what he looked like with his mouth on you and tasting the sweetness between your thighs.
The desire for it caused your legs to squeeze together to give yourself any sort of friction. Your mind still going over the fantasy you were creating with him in the starring role. Suddenly, he was looking back at you. A harsh blush rose to your cheeks at being caught but refused to look away.
God! What am I doing?!
You’ve never been the one to make the first move. Of any kind. Eye contact felt like a first move of showing interest, but you were more than interested and a part of you wondered if he could see it. See that even this far between your spaces in the bar how badly you wanted to know how he tasted.
A gasp brought your attention back to the position of your friend. Her mouth agape in shock but that threatened to spill into a smile at any moment.
“Hollleeeeey shit! Did you just give that guy ‘fuck me eyes’ from across the bar?”
You scoffed at the idea before shooting a cautionary look back in his direction. Using your elbows that were on the top of the bar you swiveled yourself to face the many rows of liquor. Fighting the urge to look back at him again or acknowledge your friend bouncing in her seat.
“Yes you fuckin did!”
Your reply was a quick swig of your drink as you tried your best not to grimace at the taste. You’d been babysitting it too long and now it was lukewarm.
“I've had my heart broken. I’m not dead,” you replied.
“Let’s go over and talk to them!”
Your head whipped in her direction so fast you swore you’d ended up with whiplash. Yes, you were looking. And yes, this man did provoke unholy fantasies, but that didn’t mean you were ready to be that close.
“You’re joking.”
“Nope. I think this will be good for you.”
She ignored your burst of panic and waved down the bartender who acknowledged her sooner than you would’ve liked.
“What can I get you ladies.”
“Two shots of tequila, please.”
“What are you doing?”
She wiggled her brows at you and rubbed her shoulder up against yours. Her weak attempt to pump you up with excitement for whatever diabolical thing she’d planned.
“Just a little liquid courage before we head on over.”
“Heading towards the door, you mean.”
Your words came out as a grumble. A pout setting in as the bartender set down the small glasses in front of the two of you. Which she quickly slid hers to click beside yours.
“You, my lovely friend, are going to have both.”
“Are you trying to give me alcohol poisoning?”
“Nope. Just trying to help you get some guiltless sex with a stranger.”
“Wow. You’re so amazing,” you deadpanned. Your hand snacking out to grab one of the shot glasses downing the first one. You were sure the reaction you were having looked like a cartoon character. God, this stuff was disgusting. “I’m pretty sure that stuff causes forest fires.”
The bartender offered you a lemon, amusement flashing in his eyes. You were hoping he could see the thank you in yours with your mouth shoved full of lemon.
You left it sitting in your mouth; teeth clenched tight against the softness and the peel exposed between your lips. You wondered if this was picture worthy and received your answer moments later when your friends’ camera flashed in your face. Your vision erupting in sparks of dark spots that left you unable to see.
“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
With the peel still held between your lips you made a face at her. Her mouth opened to reply, and suddenly it closed. Her eyes wide and darting from you to whoever was now perched beside you.
You remembered you still had a shot left and decided it was time to meet your fate. Your legs moved to turn you to sit straight on the stool when you realized someone was beside you at the bar. In perfect horror movie fashion, you glanced at your right and saw the man who’d caused your need for liquid courage.
He was just there. His body casually leaning against the bar with an air of coolness that didn’t seem forced. He was talking with the bartender. The two of them locked in a conversation like they were old friends and catching up. Maybe they were.
Up close he was even more striking. His hair was perfectly slicked back to make it appear short, but it was anything but. The gel he’d used was beginning to wear off and displayed hair that was beginning to fall into his eyes.
You wanted to run your hands through it. To grip it as you rode his tongue.
It felt like he must have had a sensation of what you were thinking. He ended his conversation and turned to look at you. A spark of laughter lit up the dark brown of his eyes and you swore you were swooning in your chair.
“I see you must really like lemons.”
Your brow furrowed as you wondered what the hell he could be talking about. He must have caught on to your confusion and patted a single digit against the lemon peel still peaking like a smile between your lips. Your eyes shot wide with horror as you not too gracefully spit it out onto the napkin.
“Oh...my...god,” you whispered at the wood of the bar. Praying that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.
“Hi!” Your friend shot an arm over you with her hand extended for him to shake. “My name’s Vanessa. This is my lovely friend, Y/N. The lemon sucker.”
Your head jerked in her direction and you hoped she could see how much you wish you could hit her.
The man beside you, however, looked nothing but amused and took Vanessa’s hand. You couldn’t keep your eyes from looking at his fingers; the way it practically covered all of hers.
“Nice to meet you both.”
He released her hand and shocked you by leaving his hand open and waiting for you to take. You glanced up at him and then back down to his hand. You took it without waiting too long, because you didn’t want him to think you were rude, or worse, weirder than he probably already did. The minute your hands folded around the other you swore it was electric.
“My name’s Jaebum. Everyone calls me JB, for short.”
Jaebum. JB. You would call him whatever he wanted. His voice was soft as he spoke and forced you to move closer to hear him. You wondered if that’d been his plan. It was the only thing you could think of as his thumb caressed over the knuckles of your hand before he took it away.
You dropped your hand down to the side of your skirt and fought not to rub it against the fabric. The attraction you felt for JB was something that’d come unexpected and you found yourself inexperienced. It felt overwhelming this need to touch him. To be touched in return. To know how he sounded with your lips wrapped around his cock and those same hands on the back of your head. Bending you over and smacking your ass until it was cherry red.
You were still staring at each other as these devilish thoughts played out in your head. His eyes roamed your face and you wondered what he saw there. If JB could see the dirty scenarios he held the starring role in. His gaze slid over you from the tips of your toes, over the exposed legs from your skirt, your chest, and back up to your face.
There was no denying he’d thought of his own scenario with you in mind. His pupils fully blown with lust when he brought his eyes back up to you. Your pulse thudded wildly as you struggled to remember how to properly breathe.
“Did you girls want to come back over to our table?” The question was meant for both Vanessa and you, but when he asked his gaze never left you. He only looked away to point to his indicated spot. “It’s just me and a couple of my friends. I promise, we aren’t weird or anything.”
A bright smile spread across his lips and if you weren’t swooning earlier, you were definitely doing it now. You were nodding your head yes, unsure if you could trust yourself to talk. Vanessa, unfortunately, didn’t seem to have that issue.
“That would be amazing and so good for her. Her boyfriend just broke up with her. She’s very vulnerable.”
Oh. My. God. Was she winking like an idiot?
You looked back at her and couldn’t keep the horror off of her face. Luckily, JB laughed it off. He reached out to grab the drinks he’d ordered and motioned with his head for you girls to follow. You waited for Vanessa to start forward before you fell into step beside her. Your arm shooting out to wrap itself around hers just so you could use it to pull her in tight.
“What in the hell was that!?”
“I’m trying to help you here. Most men love the idea of a girl on the rebound.”
“Because they think they’re easy, Nessa.”
“Precisely.”
She flicked her finger up like she’d just made a great discovery. The only thing she was about to discover was that you were, in fact, desperate but for a whole other reason.
No part of you could remember your ex looking at JB. And while the idea of any sort of relationship with him, physical or otherwise, made you excited there was still that small voice in your head. The not so fun responsible part of you reminded you that you didn’t know him. He could be a weird pervert or a serial killer. Ninety-nine percent of serial killers were usually attractive.
You let out a sigh not sure how to tell her nicely to butt out.
“Just, help me less. Ok?”
She regarded you for a moment. Her arm peeling itself out of yours before bringing you in quickly for a one-armed hug.
“Alright. Girl Scouts honor I won’t say anything else.”
“Thank you!”
And you meant it. Lord knew she only meant well, but in the end it came off embarrassing. Like the two of you were sixteen and in high school again. With you passing notes to all the boys you liked because you were too damn nervous to say anything to their face. You thought it was romantic. In reality, it just seemed well, kinda awkward.
The two of you stood beside the pool table and you did your best not to fidget with your bag. The weight of six new sets of eyes made you feel like an animal in a zoo.
“Guys, this is Vanessa and Y/N. I invited them over to hang out with us. If that’s cool.”
The friends all seemed to go from caution to excitement at seeing you in two point five seconds. All of them agreeing it was cool, and waving you all over to find a chair to sit in.
You were following Vanessa to seats in between two of his friends, when a soft hand on your arm stopped you. You knew without looking it was JB. Your body reacting instantly to his touch as if it’d been set on fire.
“You can sit next to me. If you’d like.”
“I’d like that very much.”
Your voice was breathy. Like you were telling him a secret the two of you only needed to hear. The chair in question that sat beside his own, was inches from him. So close that when you sat down your knees were next one another.
He regarded you briefly before he turned his attention back to his group. His arm snaking around your chair to rest on its back. You were aware that it was a show of dominance. Of signaling to his friends and anyone else who cared to look that you were his. The thought of it sent a thrill through your body of being claimed. Only wishing he would claim you another way too.
JB’s group of friends were fun and easy to get a long with. One of them in particular, Hyun-Bae, was incredibly funny. He told stories that were entertaining and knew when to use his humor to make everyone laugh. It was enough to make you almost forget the man beside you. Almost.
You weren’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere between everyone talking, JB’s hand that’d rested comfortably on the back of your chair had moved. His fingers brushed along your skin from your shoulder to collarbone. Each stroke deliberate; sexual and not. Like he could read that you found it comforting but also craved his touch.
You ached with the urge to kiss him. To taste the liquor on his tongue. All those times you turned to imagine yourself leaning in and doing just that, you’d met his gaze. The two of you shared a look of knowing and wondered if he’d just been waiting for you to close the last inches of space between you. You were looking at each other now; eyes hungrily glancing at the others lips.
You wanted to be brave. To just close that space and tell him just to take you home. Screw this dance of cat and mouse. You didn’t want to be chased. You wanted to be owned.
Instead, a soft, “Excuse me,” came from you as you rose up from your chair. You couldn’t get your feet to walk fast enough to the bathroom. You were moving so fast you practically took someone out on the way inside. Getting inside the bathroom, you quickly shut the door and turned the lock.
You were instantly greeted by your reflection in the dirty, marker-ridden, mirror. What you could see of yourself was defeated. A huff of frustration left you as you removed your bag from your shoulder and placed it on the hook on the back of the door. Your feet scuffing the ground as you took a somber approach to the sink.
You told Vanessa you could do this. You didn’t need help to tell a hot guy you wanted him to fuck you until your legs were far past jello and more like liquid. And every time you were given the opportunity to do something at all, you backed out.
You rested your hands on the sink and leaned in. Examining your makeup and how very un-messy it was.
“Note to self: just fuckin do it.”
Yup. The greatest of pep talks.
You weren’t ready to leave the sanctity of the bathroom but a knock sounded on the door. Reminding you very quickly that there were actual people who probably needed to use it. You moved to pick up your bag when another knock came.
“Yea, yea I’m coming. Chill.”
When you opened the door, however, JB was just there. His body pushing into the bathroom causing you to step back to give him room. He closed the door without looking back. His body fully facing you as the door clicked closed behind him.
“JB? Sorry I was just using the restroom-”
“Is that what that was? I mostly heard talking; no flushing.”
His lips spread in an amused smile no doubt at your expense. Your eyes were probably as white as the moon. How long had he been waiting out here?
“Sorry. I just got a little impatient waiting for you.”
In one fluid motion, his arm snaked around your back, and brought you to his chest. JB was prepared for you and his other hand was already holding your face giving him the perfect leverage to crash his mouth down on yours. The moment your lips met that electricity you’d felt earlier flared back to life. This time, it flared across your skin and sparked in every spot he touched.
The kiss started out a brush of lips and soon became more. His tongue danced at the edge of your bottom lip and you gladly opened up to him. Your hands plunging to make a mess of his perfectly gelled hair at the same time his tongue slipped inside your mouth.
You were eager to respond. Eager to caress his tongue with yours. His mouth tasted of the bittersweet liquor he’d sipped on for the last hour. Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to taste yourself on his lips made your body ache to be touched in other places. For your fantasies of his mouth on you to begin here. You didn’t care where.
JB seemed to understand what you needed. He broke from the kiss fast and turned you around. His body pressed against your back and his hands at the edge of your skirt. You watched in the mirror as he moved your skirt up to your hips exposing your thong to the room.
He watched you, his lips hovering over your ear before giving it a playful nip, and those same hands were now laced in the strings. JB moved back just enough to squat down so his hands could move them down your legs until he reached your ankles.
“Step out.”
You followed his command without question. Your head tilting back to watch the little bit of cloth he held in his hand get scrunched up even smaller and placed inside the front pocket of his jeans. His eyes looked up to meet yours, and your body froze with anticipation. Whatever he would ask you to do, you knew you would comply.
“Spread your legs.”
The demand in his voice was feverish. His own need on display as his hand caressed up your calf until it was between your thighs. A finger teasingly moved across your opening, causing a soft gasp to exit from your lips. You did as you were instructed and waited until you heard an approving, “Hm,” from his lips.
The room swelled as the anticipation grew. The reflection you’d seen moments ago was washed away and the woman who’d taken her place was eager and ready to offer up her own demands.
JB moved to stand on his feet with his hands traveling along the curve of your legs and up onto your hips. There his fingers dug into the soft flesh as he leaned into your back, his eyes on yours in the mirror, as he spoke into your ear, “Place your hands on the sink.”
“Spank me first.”
A shiver of shock ran through you. You couldn’t believe you’d said it, but after your request had left you, you’d refused to take it back. Your body craved to be reprimanded by his hands and the smirk on his lips told you plainly he was more than happy to oblige.
“Beg for it.”
“Please spank me. Please, JB.”
His hand curled up to wrap around your throat as his index finger danced at the edge of your lips.
“How bad do you want it?”
“I want I-“
The smack reverberated like thunder in the small room. The sting was instant and beautiful. The heat between your legs was aching and your ass jetted against his jeans for any kind of friction. JB stepped back, denying you any form of relief, and landed another smack on your exposed cheek.
This one made your knees wobble as the pleasure rolled through you. Your hands on the sink was the only thing that saved you from showing him what he’d done.
“You love that don’t you?”
JB already knew you did, but he wanted to hear you. He needed to hear you say how much you loved feeling his hand leaving its mark, red and angry, on your skin.
“Yes,” you gasped. “It feels so good.”
He landed another smack and you couldn’t keep yourself quiet anymore. Your moan loud and aching like your pussy. Luckily, his hand was still on your throat and silenced you by placing his fingers in your mouth. You sucked on them immediately and this time you could feel JB rut against your ass. The hardness of his cock pressed against the fabric of his jeans gave away just how turned on he was at your bathroom escapades.
He pulled his fingers free from your mouth and, with the same fingers, slick and wet, placed it between your legs. The two digits moving to slide between your folds. First, scissoring around your clit; caressing the delicate bud until you gave him the moan he worked for.
When the soft sound left you JB slid them deep inside you causing the noise to become louder. A shudder ran through your body as you backed up into him.
His fingers removed themselves suddenly, and you couldn’t keep the disappointment from escaping you. A whine you were sure sounded like you were close to tears. JB gave your ass another smack and all it did was drive the need inside you closer to madness.
His hands planted themselves onto your ass and you felt him kneel down. Those two strategically placed hands lifting up the flesh there leaving your pussy exposed and aching in his view. Your hands were gripping the porcelain of the sink so tight you’d thought it’d crack. Your body trembling in anticipation of what he might do and the need to cover yourself up playing tug-of-war in your head.
The idea of any sort of hiding vanished when his mouth planted itself between your legs. His tongue snaking out to flick across your clit made you back up to greet his mouth. JB quickly took that moment to slide his tongue from clit to ass. The sensation was so foreign and new to you, you weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed, but the pleasure you got quickly washed the thought away.
JB gave you no time to pull yourself together. His face was back between your legs with an eager tongue to lick up every last drop. His tongue swirled around your clit and sent light flicks when you were least expecting it. Each time your legs threatened to crumble, but JB held you there with steady hands.
His tongue explored you thoroughly and put to his memory what made your knees weak. What caused a soft mulling sound of need to claw up from your throat. And what caused your grip on the sink to become almost violent.
Between each languid lick his tongue would find itself taking long strides all the way up and back down to your peak. Your body had now grown accustomed to the new sensation, and you welcomed it greedily as you pushed back against his face.
When JB knew you were so close to your sweet release he focused his tongue more on your swollen bud. Each new caress of his tongue gradually made it harder for your arms to hold you up. For your legs to keep from shaking uncontrollably.
Your orgasm continued to grow; blossoming between your folds with an ache that your body felt. You were so, so close and with a final thrust of his tongue you felt your world spin and that sweet heat between your legs finally sent shockwaves all over your body.
You came moaning so loud anyone else would’ve thought you were screaming. Your head thrown back and riding the sensation of his greedy mouth taking everything you had to offer.
When his lips finally released from you, your body was still coming down from your orgasm. The loud panting that came from you as you leaned against the sink completely spent. You watched in the mirror as he pulled a golden foil packet from his pocket. His eyes sinfully watching you as he ripped it carefully with his teeth. JB’s finger moved quickly to take out the slick rubber from the packet and begin to work it down his shaft.
You’d been so consumed with recovering from his tongue that you hadn’t realized when he’d taken his cock out of his jeans that were now shameless at his ankles. He put a few fingers inside your wetness that caused you to gasp. Your body was still recovering from what had just taken place.
He used your cum to lubricate himself and placed himself at your entrance. Already the tip of him stretching you out with the delicious sting that told you he was thick. You couldn’t wait.
You moved to push back into him to help him inside and he pulled away. His hand smacking down on your ass making you even more eager.
“Patience is a virtue.”
He tried to be funny, but his voice was deep and throaty with his own lust. You were close to pleading with him again like before, but he let it be known quickly he had no intentions to wait.
JB slid inside you and you felt your pussy stretch to accommodate him. The feel of him making your breath catch. His girth much thicker than you’d imagined, and your body shook from the pleasure of feeling yourself stretch around him.
His thrusts started off slow until he knew you’d had enough time. His hands found an anchor on your hips and used them to pull you in to meet his hips. A string of curse words fell from your mouth as your hips rocked back into him.
Each movement felt like he was going deeper. JB’s hands on the cheeks of your ass kept you spread open to him and left no friction to catch his thrusts. Every single one was felt as he buried himself inside you in a rhythmic timing that left you moaning.
You caught your reflection in the mirror, and glanced over to watch him as he worked. The way his hips bucked up only to be brought down. His hands stationed on your hips and bruising the flesh there as his grip got tighter. JB looked up and caught a glimpse of you in the mirror. His eyes locked with yours as he continued that unrelenting pace.
He removed a hand from your ass and used it to wrap back around your neck. When he knew he had a good grip, he used it to pull you close to his chest. The angle of him in this new position somehow made him feel like he was pushing into your gut.
Your mouth opened to make another sound, a moan or a scream you weren’t sure which, when that hand in your throat tilted your mouth towards him. His own came crashing down on your lips with his tongue that tasted of you slipping inside. You eagerly opened your mouth to him, and your tongue quickly moved to get a taste.
JB deepened the kiss as his hips began to thrust harder into you. The movement building up your orgasm with each brutal movement until it threatened to spill over.
“You taste so good with me on your lips.”
Your words fell earnest from your lips. You meant every one of them. You’d never tasted yourself so pretty on anyone else’s lips. JB obliged as he took your lips back. His mouth silenced another moan as his last free hand found its way back to your clit. Your body jumped at the added sensation. Your mouth tore away from his as another moan dripped from your lips.
You were so close. You could fill yourself ready to cum if only he would let you. JB must have been close too, because his thrusts started becoming more violent and sporadic. Hitting in all the right places.
At the same time as his fingers made small circles around your clit, a singular hard thrust of his hips sent his cock deep inside you. Your vision erupted in a sea of white. Your orgasm sent your body rutting back against him.
He rode your orgasm and somehow made it grow in intensity as he continued to move his hips. His own breathing going ragged as you felt him finally release into you.
When you both were able to breathe again, you’d realized you were laying over the sink. JB’s forehead resting on your back as you both struggled to regain your composure.
JB was the first to move. The first to begin the arduous process of cleaning up. Like a voyeur, you watched him as he threw away the spent rubber and tuck himself back inside his jeans. A smirk creased your lips when you noticed he now had noticeable wet spots on his tee shirt.
“You know, I don’t even know anything about you.”
You weren’t sure why you made the comment or why it mattered. You’d just had sex with the man in a damn bar bathroom. But JB didn’t seem to mind. His own smile curling his lips as he salvaged what he could of his hair.
“What would you like to know?”
“Well,” you began as you started to situate your skirt. “What’s your favorite color?”
It was a silly question. By the look on JB’s face, he knew it was, but he humored you anyways.
“It used to be blue, but I think red might be a new favorite.”
“Why is that?”
You were wondering where your panties had gone until you spied a bit of the black cloth hanging from his pocket. JB walked over to you in a few steps and planted a soft kiss down on your lips. One that spoke plainly, this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see each other.
“Because it currently matches the color of your ass.”
JB was out the door and in the bar’s hallway before you’d even got a chance to respond.
#lim jae-beom#lim jae-beom smut#lim jae-beom fanfiction#lim jae-beom scenarios#lim jae-beom one shots#jay b#jb#jay b smut#jay b scenarios#jay b one shots#jb smut#jb one shots#jb fanfiction#got7#got7 smut#got7 fanfiction#got7 one shot#got7 scenarios#kpop#kpop smut#kpop one shot#kpop scenarios#kpop fanfiction
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Text
Flustered
Remember that old edited fic I promised yesterday? I finally got around to finishing it. Happy late birthday to number one gremlin.
Wordcount: 1406
Character(s): Bakugou Katsuki, (Y/N)
Warning(s): Innuendos. Swearing.
Note: This is an updated version of a one-shot I originally posted on my Quotev account.
The first time you had seen your soon-to-be classmates was on tv. Apparently your new school, UA, was popular enough to broadcast its sports festival on ESPN. This alone alerted you that this would be an interesting next few years.
A sudden conversation reached your ears as you passed by a group of students meandering down the hallway, seemingly on their way to the class 1-A door, as well.
“I’ll fuckin’ kill that damn nerd if he steals my moves again,” a very disgruntled blond growled, his hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned forward, looking very much like a gremlin. You recognized him as the first place winner of the festival—Katsuki Bakugou.
A spiky-haired redhead let out a nervous laugh. You vaguely remembered him—Kirishima. “Don’t be like that, dude! Midoriya is just bein’ like you because he knows you’re one of the best!”
The blond smirked. “Damn right I am. I’ll kick his ass once and for all when I become number one hero.”
You let out a snort loud enough to catch the attention of the aforementioned gremlin. Oops.
“The fuck you laughin’ at, bitch?” he spat, stopping his trudge to glare at you. His friends looked ready to hold him back. They shot worried looks your way.
“You—” you took in a breath to stop yourself from laughing—”you sound—” you snorted— “You sound so sure of yourself! Love that confidence! Good for you!”
He narrowed his eyes at you to the point where only a sliver of bright red remained. “The fuck is that supposed to mean, you fuckin’ moron!”
You scrunched your nose mockingly. “Oh, I’m sorry. My mistake. I wasn’t aware every pro in a hundred kilometer radius is set to self-destruct once you graduate. Well, if you graduate.”
Kirishima, a blond with a black bolt of lighting in his hair, a black-haired dude who looked rather stoned, and a pink girl with yellow horns all struggled to contain their laughter.
You noticed Bakugou’s eye twitch and opened your mouth to comment, but the words were taken out of you when he suddenly charged at you, a murderous expression on his face. Death on your first day. Great.
“Bakugou, wait!” Kirishima yelled, but it was too late.
Your back met a wall harshly, and two arms caged your body in, making it impossible to get away without a fight. You heard your back crack. Free chiropractic services at least?
“If you ever say that about me again, I’ll fuckin’ rip your face off, bitch!” he barked, his face only a hair away from yours as his eye bore into yours. You squinted. Was that a vine reference?
A twinge of fear gripped you, but instead of showing it, you did the next best thing. “Ooh~, feisty~!” You let out a flirty growl, winking at him. This was, in fact, not the next best thing. It was, however, hilarious to your goldfish brain.
A dash of pink spread across his cheeks, but his expression remained pissed and he kept eye contact. “Shut the fuck up!”
You raised an eyebrow, keeping your cool. “Oh, why don’t you make me, pretty boy~?” Good job, (Y/N). Good social skills. You are nailing this. This is definitely the way to get out of the situation. There is no other possible option.
“Pretty-” he paused, glaring daggers as his face flushed pinker- “the fuck are you getting at, bitch!”
You brushed off the growing apprehension of knowing he was going to snap at any moment and pursed your lips. “I don’t know, what do you want me to be getting at?” you replied, shrugging as you did so. You resisted the urge to bite your lip like a moron. What the fuck were you doing? Flirting? Fighting? Who knows. Certainly not you.
“The only thing you’re getting on now is my last goddamn nerve!” You felt a rumbling of the wall, and assumed he was using his quirk slightly, succumbing to anger. Would you have to pay for any wall damage he caused? You didn’t have wall insurance. Yikes. Maybe you could write it off on your taxes later. Just kidding. You don’t do taxes.
“Well maybe if you’re lucky I can get on something more personal later,” you purred, giving a wink. (Y/N), no. Stop. You wanted to bash your head against the wall. What was this word vomit? You’re embarrassing yourself.
His face went bright red faster than you’d ever witnessed, and he finally broke eye contact to look sideways, his breaths coming out heavy. Oh shit.
You smiled, proud of yourself for winning whatever wild staring contest was happening, but that smile quickly left your face when he turned back towards you, a smirk on his lips. Ohhhhhh shit.
His expression radiated cockiness, and you gulped. It was the same face he made throughout the sports festival- the one he put on when he knew he was going to win. You sucked in a breath, smiling awkwardly. Maybe if you just… apologize? Leave somehow?
The others knew what was happening; they could feel the tension in the air. Kirishima gestured to the classroom door some ways down the hall, and the others nodded, beginning to walk towards it with Ashido being pulled away by Kaminari. What the fuck? They were just gonna leave you here? Rude. You did deserve it, though. This was all your fault.
There was now an unspoken war between you two, but you refused to surrender. Whoever made the other so flustered they couldn’t take it won. And you wanted to win.
Taking in a breath, you copied his expression. Okay, (Y/N). Just fake it ‘til you make it. Be cocky. Be the hoe you always claimed to be. “So, firecracker, you gonna say anything? Finally shut me up? Prove just how good you are at being number one at absolutely everything?” You mentally patted yourself on the back. Good quip? Good quip. Nice. You were nailing this.
“I know a way to shut you the fuck up-” he moved closer, now leaning over you with his forearm resting above your head- “but you might moan a little.”
Sir, this is a Wendy’s drive-through.
You bit your cheek in a vain attempt to stop yourself from blushing. 'Fuck, that was hot.' Regardless of your reddened state, you pressed on. “Oh yeah? Moan in irritation, maybe. You may have the looks but I doubt you got the touch. Of course, feel free to prove me wrong~.” You winced. They make it look so much easier in the movies. You could feel your confidence crumbling.
He scoffed. “You wanna fuckin’ bet?”
“Oh, I kinda wanna be fuckin’ something, but it’s not a bet,” you quipped, moving one of your hands from the wall to grab his messily-knotted tie. You smiled smugly.
He remained speechless for a moment, his crimson eyes peering into yours. Then his gaze moved lower down your face. 'Is he looking at my lips? Is he going as far as to actually kiss me?' Oh fuck. Abort mission! Abort mission! Call it quits, moron!
You tugged on his tie, tilting your head. “Oh? Did I break the future number one hero? Did I win against the Katsuki Bakugou?” Jesus Christ, (Y/N), you stupid hoe! Stop it!
“Remember what I said about shutting you the fuck up?” he angrily whispered, teeth grit in irritation.
You nodded. Oh no.
“Well, if you say another goddamn word I swear to God I fucking will.”
You clicked your tongue before pressing it against the roof of your mouth, morbidly curious about what he would do. Luckily for him, you drank your full dose of dumb-bitch juice. Finally, you leaned forward and tugged him by his tie so you were nose to nose. “Bet.”
You felt the roughness of lips on yours, but only temporarily, as Bakugou was suddenly flung away from you and into a mess of grey scarf.
“Get to class,” Aizawa muttered, glaring at both of you, “NOW.” Yikes. Busted.
You gave a swift nod and bow before skipping down the hallway, but not before turning behind you to wink at the caught blond and mouth 'later.’
His face went red and he turned away. You felt you were in the lead in whatever competition you’d just started, and from here on out, it was going to remain that way. At least, you hoped so.
#writing#fanfiction#over 1000 words#fanfic#mha#bnha#bnha fanfiction#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#bakugo#bakugou#bakugou katsuki#x reader#swear warning#innuendo warning#reader#fluff
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