#absolute girl bait

[darlingjmiller]

so. you’re telling me that in the 2000s

this episode aired and millions of teenage girls DIDN’T go crazy?

with THAT jawline?

and that SMILE??? those big brown eyes??

i'm sorry??

[gifs by @perotovar]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

News spreads fast.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[paper-mario-wiki]

Ortho-Fusor

REFERENCE MANUAL

Modern Visual Training

Bear in mind that these polaroids are from 1941, and are presented with as much clarity as I could muster with only my phone camera.

[princess-ish-shit]

brown eyed mf girl

[sds-mod]

Genshin opinion to get it off my chest but I saw the leaks on the next upcoming character and dude I truly hate Natlan what the hell......I liked the fantasy vibe of the world, but Natlan is just fucking around and being so modern and unserious and killing the vibe that I specifically enjoyed. I don't find the movement mechanics fun, the Nightsoul mechanic annoys me to death, I struggle to connect to the cast the way I could with the other nations...I'm clinging along for Snezhnaya but I'm very concerned where things will go, the sunk cost fallacy is deep but Natlan is making me consider looking for something else. Maybe Infinity Nikki.

[devonhale]

i have to get a new job i think 😭

[mercymaker]

it's so annoying when people think that their choice of romance in a video game makes them somehow superior

[grassbreads]

Oh shit, Silent Reading finally got licensed by Seven Seas

This is exciting for me as a priest fan, but less exciting as someone who enjoys E. Danglars's translations.

[feelgoodinct]

nsfw, mdni.

simon becomes an absolute dog when he sees you in his shirt.

cw: possessive simon, sex on carpet (ouch), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink (?).

simon is a good roommate. he’s organized, clean, pays rent on time, and minds his own space. the only thing is—roommate is hot. stupidly hot. you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he’s never once brought back a girl let alone mentioned one. you figured your little crush on him would pass like all the other (it does not). you start dropping hints that you find him attractive. like wearing your tightest tops, brushing your ass against him while reaching for a cup, even leaving one of your lacy thongs to mix in with his laundry. he never bites the bait. you start to think that maybe he just doesn’t find you attractive or even worse he finds you creepy. so you tuck your schoolgirl crush away into the cavity of your chest.

you close the washer with your hip, cradling your laundry basket back to your room. you hear the familiar turn of your front door lock letting you know simon is home from his morning gym session.

you pad into the living room to ask simon if he needed any clothes washed. simons back is turned from you when he begins to slip off his trainers, dropping his gym at the foot of the door.

“need any clothes washed? i’m starting a load up right now.” you ask eyeing the movement of back muscle underneath his compression shirt.

he finally turns to you and starts to respond “nah don’t think-“ before he snaps his mouth shut when he sees what you’re wearing. “that mine?” his voice gruff, it’s his army issued shirt that is long enough to cover your shorts. a deep green color that frays at the hem and has his last name in bold at the back of it. you notice he’s staring at the worn fabric waiting for an answer.

you look down, “oh yeah. sorry was doing laundry found this in hamper. my clothes are in the wash. hope that’s okay?” you sound apologetic like you just did something unforgivable. jesus christ what were you thinking wearing his shirt without asking. you shift trying to ease your embarrassment.

he’s on you in three short strides. making a noise between a growl and snarl. you don’t know how or when you both ended up on the living room floor. frankly, it’s the last thing on your fucking mind now that you’re on your knees cheek pressing into the shag carpet. you can feel the heat of his stare between your legs. you get a glimpse of your shorts and panties strewn across the floor leaving you in his shirt. you wait with bated breath for him to touch you. you wiggle your hips in a silent plead to get him to do something, anything…everything.

he gives the flesh of your ass a heavy smack that has you clenching around nothing. “be good now.” is all you hear before the sting leaves an angry red mark that you know is gonna leave you wincing for the next week. simon smooths a hand over the back of your (his) shirt making a noise in the back of his throat.

you hear shuffling behind you before you feel the head of him catch on to your opening making your mouth gape like a fish out of water. he groans at the contact, kneading the fat of your hips, before he presses in painfully slow with a hiss. you whimper into the carpet, fists balling, feeling hot all over. your cunt pulses trying to make room for him inside your womb.

“i know. i know, pretty girl. almost there.” simon bites back a hiss when you clench at his words. you think you might die like this. laid out on ugly apartment carpet trying to take simon’s cock. you could cry with relief when you feel simon’s balls meet your clit letting you know he’s all the way in. simon lets out a guttural sound bordering on animalistic at the sight of you speared open on his cock, last name across your back, absolutely crying for it.

he fists the bottom of the shirt to keep you still and eases his hips back just to sink back in slowly. the pressure in your navel hurts so good it’s starting to make you dizzy. simon sets a pace that has you trying to cant your hips back to meet his thrusts. he lays a heavy palm in the middle of your back, just under the boldened ‘RILEY’, keeping you pinned giving you no choice but to take what he gives you.

“prettiest fuckin girl i ever seen. gonna give this cunt the proper treatment she deserves, yeah?” he bends his left leg, somehow sliding in deeper. there’s no doubt that you can feel him in your lungs. “s’deep simon.” you slur, reaching a hand back to weakly press against his stomach. he chuckles at the act taking both wrists into one of his hands pressing them at the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch. you sob at the change in angle. your nipples being rubbed raw by the friction of his thrusts.

“needed this real bad, huh? don’t worry baby. i’ll make sure you don’t go without it again. wearing those tiny tops think i didn’t notice.” his voice rough and deep behind you. “uh huh.” you reply without a second thought, you don’t even care that you’ve been drooling into the carpet or that you’ve been caught. simon gives a deep chuckle at how pliant you’ve become just from some good dick.

he knows your close by the increasing volume of your sounds. he never lets up his pace determined to give you his all. “where?” he asks in a quick breathe. you take a few seconds to register his words. “huh?” you manage to squeak out. “where do you want me, pretty thing?” he says in an almost pained voice. the gears turn in your head before you speak up “inside. want it inside. m’clean. pill.” resorting to short clipped words. you beg, as if you have to, simon thinks.

your orgasm comes hard and fast leaving you sobbing out garbled version of please and simon. simon is not far behind burying himself as deep as your bodies will allow and comes inside with a pinched “oh fuck.” he pulls out with a pop and watches his spend leak down your slit leaving a small puddle on the floor that he knows he’ll have to scrub out later.

simon pats your backside affectionately. “don’t think we’ll be doing any laundry today” he says with a grin that makes you giggle. “yeah, don’t think so.”

[qardenofeden]

bf! kenma kozume who uses your selfies as his icons on every single platform available. steam, codm, you name it, you’re on it.

bf! kenma kozume who edits his in game avatars to look like you because “your face is satisfying to look at.” he then proceeds to throw a fit when “you” flirt with one of the love interests available, immediately hopping off the game and finding his place in your arms.

bf! kenma kozume who boosts you everywhere. your friends wonder how you reached platinum in valorant when you can barely manage to get double digit kills. your nickname in your discord server is literally “single digits.”

bf! kenma kozume who isn’t scared of getting his account banned, so long as he defends you from the misogynistic, lame weirdos who trashtalk you. he once got banned from chat for a month.

bf! kenma kozume who has the worst luck in gacha games, so when his favorite character’s banner drops, he immediately goes to your house to make you pull.

you and kenma had mutually agreed on a private relationship prior to being a couple, so he has absolutely no idea what to say when kuroo confronts him.

“kenma, who’s that girl in your profile picture?”

the man in question only coughs, looking around uncomfortably as he looks for a way to change the subject.

the two of you were currently doing your respective tasks in your room— kenma is gaming on your pc while you sit beside him, reading a book. your headset was cheap, making it easy for you to hear everything going on in the call.

“i, uhh...”

“what, is she an idol or something?”

oof. kuroo’s not letting up, is he?

your boyfriend’s gaze finds yours, the internal panic evident in his eyes. what’s that one old saying? eyes are a window to the soul?

you chuckle as you watch him, and kenma hmph’s at your dismissal.

kuroo speaks up again, interrupting the silence. “is she from a porno...? you can tell me, man.”

you barely hold back a fit of laughter as kenma stutters, “wha— no?! how’d you even come to that conclusion? you’re weird, kuroo!”

“just saying, bro. if you’re that secretive over her, you must be ashamed of how you discovered her. i mean, i’m not judgin’, you know,” he chuckles, setting up the bait. only thing left to do is wait for kenma to bite.

but kenma’s too smart for that. well, not really. if it were up to him, he’d have been screaming in kuroo’s ears right now about how absolutely pure and beautiful you are, and how he could never, ever be secretive over you. but, to his dismay, he remembers your agreement, mentally cursing himself for even agreeing in the first place.

you were his. his wonderful, utterly kind, other worldly beautiful love of his life. the object of all his desires, and the owner of his heart, body, and soul. why shouldn’t he show you off?!

you cave. in a matter of mere seconds, the headset goes from kenma’s head to yours as you speak against the mic, “i’m his girlfriend. you must be kuroo?”

on the other end, you can hear kuroo’s grunt of disbelief. kenma?! his anti social best friend who only ever talked to like, three people including him?! THAT guy managed to bag someone as pretty as you?! well, not to be condescending, but it simply doesn’t make sense! he doesn’t even go outside!

kenma grunts too, taking the headset back. his voice is calm again, back to its original octave. “kuroo, you there?”

“man, to be honest, i just thought you wanted to catfish people!”

[rafesangelita]

♡ when you’re so wet that rafe keeps slipping out..

warnings: making out, heavy petting, dry humping (not really, it’s pretty messy), finger sucking, cockwarming (?), unprotected sex, praise, teasing, rafe being super pussy drunk, belly bulge, size kink, biting, slight dacryphilia

“fuck, look at those hips..” rafe pulled away from your lips, a string of saliva still connecting you two as he dragged you up and down his lap, his large palms enveloping the soft globes of your ass. with shaky hands, you held onto his shoulders as you rocked on top of him, your panties drenched with your arousal. “need’ you, ray..” you whimpered, “please.” rafe pressed a trail of sloppy kisses across your collarbone, his tongue licking a stripe up the column of your throat as your eyes fluttered shut.

he navigated your body like it was the back of his hand, his skillful touch turning you into putty. rafe could feel your heat through his boxers, the soaked fabric making him groan as his hardened cock strained against the material. “i’ll give it you, baby, don’t worry,” he landed a harsh smack to your ass, ripping a yelp from your lips, “wet those fingers for me.” rafe could only imagine how slippery your cunt would feel swallowing him whole, your slick alone already making you glide easily on top of the layers separating you two from full penetration.

giggling softly, rafe watched as your hand disappeared underneath the waistband of your panties, his breath hitching once you held up your fingers, a pool of your sticky succulence glistening underneath the dim light. knowing that he was the one to make you like this made him twitch with need, his hand wrapping around your wrist as he brought your digits to his mouth. with a baited breath, you gasped softly when he took your juices on his tongue, the man in front of you moaning at the taste.

no matter how many times rafe found his head between your thighs, he could never get used to how intoxicating you were, all of his senses and primal instincts honing in on fucking you stupid. without wasting another second, rafe was quick to take himself out of his boxers, a hiss leaving his lips as his length smacked against your tummy. peeling back the lace material of your underwear, he slid them down your legs until he caught sight of the absolute mess between your thighs.

laying you down on your back, rafe brought your knees up to your chest, using one hand to press on your lower abdomen and the other to guide himself between your folds. he was so hard, he had to use his thumb to keep the tip of his cock down so he could enter your needy cunt. he marveled at the size difference, the head of his length stopping just below your belly button. “fuck, i’m gonna wreck you..” he trailed off, toying with your clit before slipping inside, filling you up inch by inch until you were crying out in both pleasure and pain.

with the hand that he had on your stomach, he guided your own over the budge in your tummy, your eyes widening slightly as he started thrusting into you at a steady pace. “you feel that? ‘feel the way my cock fills you up to the fucking brim?” your eyes rolled back at the same time you whined out a ‘f-fuck, yes!’ into your palm. your walls stretched deliciously around the the welcomed intrusion that was his length, your pussy clenching around him for all that he had. the sounds falling from your lips were nothing short of pornographic, the moans and choked sobs only pushing rafe closer to the edge.

he sped up until his skin was slapping against your own, your back arching off of the bed when he slipped out and stroked your clit with the underside of his cock. you shrieked at the sensation, your legs trembling in sensitivity. “too much..” you shook your head, bringing your legs down to wrap around his waist instead. rafe groaned, your slick dripping down his length as he tapped your glossy folds. “you’re so fucking wet, i’m slipping right out,” he grunted, “this is what i do to you, ‘pretty girl?” he leaned down, nipping the sensitive part of your neck.

he kept himself nestled inside of you for a few moments, letting you revel in being so utterly full. you gave him an approving hum, your nails digging into his skin as he bit you softly across your collarbone. starting up his thrusts again, he slipped out as soon as he picked up the pace, the action making him curse under his breath. your eyes watered in frustration, your bottom lip pulled tightly between your teeth. rafe saw your tears, the sight shooting straight to his cock. he loved seeing how delirious he made you, his chest filling up with pride as you looked up at him with that fucked-out gaze.

soon after he continued, your high was hitting you in intense waves, the coil in the pit of your stomach snapping in two as rafe watched your eyebrows knit together, the added mess between your thighs only making his hips stutter with his own climax painting your walls. “rafe!” you screamed in his ear, his thumb slipping between your lips for you to bite down on while he twitched and convulsed inside of you. a shiver ran down his back as he caged you tightly between his arms, his seed spilling out of you as you both went through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

once you were okay, rafe pressed a kiss to your lips, stroking the side of your face before rolling over to your side. “what’s your ring size?” he sighed, pulling you against his chest. you laughed softly, slightly confused at the words that left his mouth. “why?” rafe’s chest was rising and falling as he glanced down at you, meeting your eyes. “are you kidding me? i need to lock this pussy down. like tonight.”

[burnyourtrains]

Part of me wants to get funky shoelaces just for fun. The other part of me knows that if someone tells me they like my shoelaces I will not be able to stop myself from saying that I stole them from the president

[piracytheorist]

Idk I just really like that Twilight's reaction to being told "Your wife used to be a prostitute!" is to go like

and proceed to say how honourable and worthy of respect her dedication, self-sacrifice and mental fortitude are, and how we're shown he actually means that.

And then my girl Yor sees his reaction and hears his words and for the first time in her life she goes like "This is a man who literally just met me and has no connection to me yet he not only understands my position, he's also willing to bring himself out there and have my back when other people have free bait to judge me" and like damn how important that was to her, to have someone (who doesn't owe his survival to her like Yuri does) actually see her and respect her choices and have the absolute BEST of faiths in her. Like, what Camilla says there has the societal power to make her look like a pariah. Yet this dude comes over and without knowing anything about her, he vouches for her and immediately assumes her reasons were noble and altruistic. And though he doesn't know what profession he's actually vouching for, he's completely right in his assumption about her intentions, and considering how easily the general public judges sex workers, it's no surprise this support gives Yor the courage to believe Loid will understand her and won't think bad of her if she ever disappears on them due to her work, because he's open-minded enough for his first and immediate assumption about her is that she has good intentions.

And I just wanna SCREAM because she has absolutely no idea how little he will judge her about her assassin gig. She already considers herself lucky she's come across someone who is compassionate enough to think the best out of someone who works in a profession that is not considered "morally acceptable" by the public. But she has no idea the actual jackpot she's hit, because his own profession is far more dark and sinister yet he still has the kindness and empathy in his heart to understand people who do the same as he does.

Like, that's it with her character, isn't it? She sacrificed her own youth and morality to help Yuri grow up and be educated, and that caused him to idolize her, and because he was the only family she had left, she has been desperate to not cause any of her ties with him to break. But it also caused her impostor syndrome, and she had no confidence in any of her abilities aside from killing and cleaning up after her work, because she lives in a misogynistic society that is suspicious of unmarried women (like, that judgment alone, considering unmarried men don't experience such scrutiny, can be enough to damage a woman's psyche) and because she has been working under a man cruel enough to hire orphaned teenagers as assassins and nearly kill them in tests of their abilities ever since she was a teenager. For her it was either "I'm either perfect in something or I'm completely useless and I deserve people's judgment". Because if Yuri sees she doesn't have the perfect record, she thinks he will be horrified and she'll lose the ties to her last remaining family. And she will think she deserved that. If her killing skills waver in the slightest, she will be killed, either by enemies or by the Shopkeeper doing his little "tests". And she will think she deserved that. And if she doesn't abide by the society's expectations, she will at best be judged and mocked (for not cooking at home) and at worst get arrested (for being suspected as a spy). And she will think she deserved that.

Yet again, this stranger comes along, is told she's worked a socially shameful profession, knows she's shy and with so few connections that she can't even find someone to act as her pretend boyfriend for a party, and he supports her. And then he finds out how socially unskilled she is, how terrible she is at cooking, how she can't even pretend to kiss him for their mutual benefit, how she has the tendency to get so drunk she accidentally kicks him unconscious... And those things that she considers fatal flaws of her, he says are parts of her that she doesn't need to pretend don't exist. That's who she is, and there's nothing to fix, and she can just accept them without feeling bad or ashamed of it, that pretending she's someone else, someone perfect, will only make her miserable and exhausted.

And like... fuck. How can she not feel glad she got to marry that guy?

And how much will her heart break when she finds out he's a spy and will immediately doubt all the supportive words he's told her? And how astonishing will it be when she finds out that he actually meant pretty much everything he's told her, and that he really resonates with her and believes in her?

(anime only here, don't spoil me for the manga)

[barnesonly]

i loved grumpy x sunshine! can we get more of it? bucky’s just a big doberman who loves his sweet precious baby girl more than anything

yes I absolutely love their dynamic and BIG DOBERMAN energy is so spot on!! here’s protective Bucky *wink wink*

Sink in

grumpy!bucky barnes x sunshine!reader

summary: you go on an undercover mission with Bucky who gets overprotective and… jealous?

word count: 2771

WARNINGS: 18+ explicit content, MDNI. curse words, dirty talk, praise kink, PiV, unprotected sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, mirror sex, breeding, possessive behavior, mutual desperation, fully consensual by both parties although not explicitly stated.

You didn’t need to be told twice to smile — it came naturally to you.

Even undercover in a tight red dress and uncomfortable heels, walking into an event filled with arms dealers and corrupt diplomats, you smiled like you had nothing to fear.

Bucky hated it.

“You’re drawing attention.” he muttered under his breath, large hand on the small of your back. “You walk in like that and every asshole in here’s gonna think you’re available.”

You bumped his hip with yours. “That’s kind of the point, grump. You’re supposed to look like you’re here with your arm candy.”

“I don’t like the idea of being bait.” he muttered.

“You’re not bait,” you said with a smile that could melt titanium. “I am.”

Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “That’s even worse.”

Your relationship with Bucky wasn’t simple. He didn’t flirt. He didn’t tease. He grunted. He rolled his eyes. He glared at anyone who looked at you too long. You weren’t dating. Not officially. You hadn’t kissed, hadn’t crossed that line.

But you’d shared motel rooms. Shared food. Watched old movies on scratched discs in safehouses, shoulders brushing in the dark. You’d woken up more than once with your legs tangled under a too-small blanket and his arm slung heavy across your stomach.

You called him “grump” and he let you. You made him coffee just the way he liked it — Black, one tablespoon of sugar— even when he never asked.

He called you doll once, under his breath, when he didn’t know you were listening. And when things got dangerous, when missions got ugly, when people came too close — Bucky stopped being silent. He turned brutal. Fierce.

Protective.

Of you.

You weren’t sure what that meant. You weren’t lovers. But you weren’t just teammates either.

Sometimes, when you caught him staring too long — at your mouth, at your bare shoulder, at your smile — you thought maybe… maybe he felt it too.

The pull.

The way the air shifted between you like something unsaid was pressing against both your ribs.

But he never made a move.

Never crossed the line.

So you didn’t either. You stayed in that strange in-between — close, but not close enough.

But tonight?

When he was here with you in that goddamn tailored suit? Gods be good — it was getting difficult. Very difficult to not get close.

You continued your undercover mission, glancing at Bucky who was watching just from around the corner.

Everything was going fine — until it wasn’t.

You were halfway through your flirtatious distraction with a smug suit named Anton when something shifted. You felt it before you saw it — the way Bucky stiffened across the room, how his gaze locked onto yours like a damn hawk.

Anton’s hand brushed your bare arm. Too high.

Bucky moved.

Not walked. Not jogged.

Moved. Like a fucking missile.

By the time Anton leaned in to whisper something vile in your ear, Bucky was already there.

His metal arm was around your waist before you could blink, yanking you back against his chest as his other hand slammed Anton back into the velvet booth.

“She’s not yours to touch.” he growled, low and deadly.

Anton sputtered, caught off guard. “She said—she was just—”

“I don’t care what she said,” Bucky snapped. “You don’t lay a hand on her.”

“Bucky—” you started, cheeks warm, heart hammering. You weren’t sure If you felt embarrassed or flustered… or maybe it was both?

“No.” His voice was sharp, eyes never leaving the guy’s face. “You don’t touch her unless she asks you to. Got it?”

Anton nodded, wide-eyed, hands raised. Bucky didn’t let go of your waist.

Not even when the man scurried away like a kicked dog. Not even when the music returned to full volume and the mission resumed.

He held you tight against him, breathing hard.

You looked up at him, that same soft smile on your face. “You okay, soldier?”

His jaw was clenched tight. “Don’t do that again.”

“What?”

“Let someone else put their hands on you.”

You blinked, voice lowering. “It was part of the mission.”

“Don’t care.” His grip tightened slightly. “Next time anyone tries that, I’m breaking more than their pride.”

And just like that — it was silent between you.

Hot.

Tense.

Buzzing with a line you hadn’t crossed yet, but you were so close.

Then he leaned down, mouth brushing your ear.

“You’re mine to protect. You get that?”

Your breath caught.

You nodded.

And from the way his hand slipped down your hip, lingering like he needed to feel you were safe, you knew the mission wasn’t the only thing getting dangerously close to explosive.

You watched him leave and soon as you made sure Bucky made his way back to his spot, talking with some other men you rushed to find the bathroom, your breath still caught in your throat, panic raising with every passing moment.

The second the door to the staff’s restroom clicked shut behind you, you exhaled.

Not calmly. Not softly.

You practically collapsed against the sink, palms flat on the cool porcelain as your shoulders slumped forward.

Your heart was still racing, and it wasn’t just the mission.

It was him.

God, it was always him.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the bass from the club thudding through the floor beneath your heels.

You looked like yourself.

The flirty dress. The soft smile still trying to recover. But inside, you were buzzing. And tired. And confused. And a little bit angry.

Because Bucky had done it again.

The jealousy, the possessiveness — the way he’d shoved that man like he was seconds from pulling the trigger, growling like a feral thing with the words that basically said “don’t touch what’s mine.”

But then, as always, he’d walked away like nothing had happened. Like he didn’t just claim you in front of a room full of people and then leave you standing there, heart pounding, body still warm from his hands.

You felt like a fool. You closed your eyes. Let out a slow breath. You weren’t weak. You weren’t. You’d handled worse.

But not this.

Not him.

You had no idea what the hell you were to Bucky Barnes.

Some days, he looked at you like you were his only peace in this godforsaken world. Other days, he barely spoke — only snapped when you got too close to danger or when someone else looked at you too long. He’d touch you — your waist, your back, your wrist when he needed to pull you out of the way — but he never stayed.

Never kissed you.

Never said anything.

You opened your eyes again and muttered to your reflection:

“Just say it, man. Just say it. Either you want me or you don’t.”

Your voice cracked, and you hated it.

Because you were tired. Tired of feeling like you belonged to someone who didn’t want to belong back.

You didn’t even hear the door open. You only felt it — the sudden shift in the air behind you. The presence. Heavy. Quiet. Familiar.

Then the low voice:

“Why’d you run?”

You turned slowly. Bucky stood just inside the doorway, arms crossed, filling the frame like a storm you hadn’t seen coming.

“I didn’t run.” you said, trying for casual. It came out thin.

“You disappeared.”

“I needed air.”

“You could’ve told me.”

Your hands clenched. “Oh, so now I’m supposed to tell you where I go, too?”

His jaw ticked. “That’s not what I—”

“God, Bucky, what are we?”

The words exploded out of you before you could stop them. Your voice trembled, but your spine stayed straight. “Because one second you’re pushing guys off me like you own me, and the next it’s like nothing happened. You look at me like you… like you want me. But you never say it. Never do anything. And I’m so – so damn tired of guessing!”

Silence. It pressed thick between you, heavy enough to crush. His stare didn’t waver. But his shoulders had dropped just slightly, and something vulnerable flickered behind his eyes.

You swallowed hard, chest rising and falling. “Do you even know what you want from me?”

He didn’t move for a second. Then he stepped forward — slow, deliberate.

“I want you safe.” he said quietly.

You scoffed. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I can say without crossing a line I can’t come back from.”

Your heart skipped. “So cross it.”

His jaw clenched.

“Cross it.” You repeated, as If you were daring him.

He was in front of you in a breath, eyes wild, hands reaching out and gripping the counter on either side of your hips, caging you in. His body hovered, close but not touching. You could feel the heat of him. Smell the leather and sweat and something so distinctly him that your knees nearly buckled.

His hands left the counter and grabbed your waist instead, yanking you flush against his chest. You barely had a second to gasp before his mouth was on yours — rough, devouring, starving. He kissed you like a man possessed. Like he’d been holding this in for months. Maybe he had.

You whimpered into his mouth, hands fisting the front of his suit as he pushed you back until your spine hit the cold bathroom wall.

“Fuck,” he muttered between kisses. “You don’t get it, do you?”

You gasped as his lips moved down to your neck, sucking a mark right under your ear. “G-Get what?”

His grip tightened on your hips. “That every time someone touches you, I want to break their fucking hands. That I can’t sleep unless I know you’re okay. That I’ve been dying to do this.”

He ground his hips into yours and you felt it — thick, hard, desperate. You moaned.

“This what you wanted, doll?” he growled against your throat.

You nodded, breathless. “Yes—God, yes—”

He spun you around, pressing your front against the sink as his hand shoved your dress up roughly over your hips. You let out a breathy gasp, the cool air hitting your thighs.

“No more running,” he muttered, voice low and dangerous. His hand cupped between your legs through your soaked panties, his fingers rubbing your wet heat. “You’re mine. Say it.”

“Yours,” you breathed. “I’ve always been yours—”

He growled something filthy under his breath — you only caught good girl — and then he was pulling your panties down and freeing himself from his pants. You looked up just in time to see your own wrecked reflection in the mirror.

He caught your eye there. Held it. One hand flat on your stomach, the other guiding himself to your entrance.

He teased your slick folds with his cock first, making you moan and gasp, your body moved in anticipation and he let out a dark chuckle.

“Please,” you whispered. “Need you, Bucky—just… need you.”

That was all it took.

He thrust into you in one sharp motion and you cried out, hand slamming against the mirror to steady yourself. He filled you completely, thick and pulsing inside, and didn’t give you a second to adjust — just started pounding into you like he was making up for every moment he hadn’t touched you before.

“Fuck—tight little pussy—been dreamin’ about this,” he groaned, metal hand gripping your hip so hard you’d have bruises tomorrow. His other hand grabbed your jaw, making you look at yourself in the mirror. “Look at you. Fuckin’ perfect.”

Your moans bounced off the walls — you barely cared who heard. His thrusts were deep, punishing, filthy.

And he wouldn’t shut up.

“Not letting you flirt with those assholes again,” he snarled, eyes locked on yours in the mirror. “You wanna act like bait? Fine. But I’m the one who gets to fuck you after.”

You clenched around him at his words and he felt it.

“Oh, baby. You like that, huh? You like when I get mean for you?”

“Y-Yes—fuck, Bucky—please—”

He brought his hand down and smacked your ass, not hard, just enough to make you yelp. “That’s right. This pussy’s mine.”

“Yours,” you sobbed. “All yours—”

He reached around and rubbed tight circles on your clit, hips never faltering. You were unraveling fast, so fast, the pleasure built from weeks — months — of wanting this.

You came hard, body shaking against the sink as he kept fucking you through it, murmuring praises into your ear. Good girl. So sweet. So fuckin’ good for me.

When he was close, he pulled out just long enough to flip you around and lift you onto the sink. You gasped as your back hit the mirror, legs spreading on instinct.

He slid back in easily, growling into your mouth as he kissed you again — slower now, but no less intense.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered against your lips. “Mine, doll. Say it again.”

“Yours,” you gasped. “Only yours.”

He came with a groan, forehead pressed to yours, hips twitching as he filled you deep, his seed spreading inside of your walls.

And then — silence.

Just breathing. Just heat. Just the faint bass of the music still thumping beyond the door, as if none of it mattered. The rush, the blinding pressure of it all started to fade — and Bucky was the first to come down from it.

You were still boneless, leaning back against the mirror with your legs dangling over the edge of the sink, dress wrinkled, panties somewhere on the damn floor.

And Bucky… looked like he’d seen a ghost.

His hands were still on your thighs, but barely. Like he was afraid to touch you now.

His chest was heaving, jaw tight, eyes flickering between your face and the door behind him, like he wasn’t sure whether to kiss you again or bolt.

You gave a small, lazy smile. “Hey.”

His eyes locked onto yours.

You reached up, brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. “You okay?”

“I—shit,” he mumbled, stepping back just enough to give you space. “Shit, I—did I hurt you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What? No—”

“I was rough. Too rough.” His metal hand hovered near your waist but didn’t land. “You didn’t even—fuck, we didn’t talk, I didn’t even ask, I just—”

“Bucky,” you said, soft but firm. “Look at me.”

He did. Slowly.

Your smile was still there. Warm. Safe.

The look on your face didn’t match the apocalypse going off in his head. If anything, you looked… happy. Messy, flushed, glowing — and happy.

“I would’ve stopped you,” you said gently. “I would’ve said no if I didn’t want it this way.”

He exhaled hard, running a hand down his face like he didn’t believe you could possibly be real.

You reached for him again and tugged him back between your knees. “Bucky. I wanted it,” you said, more seriously now. “I’ve wanted you. For so long. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His hands settled on your hips, gentler this time. His head bowed.

“…I’ve never had anyone like you,” he said quietly. “I don’t know how to… be.”

Your heart squeezed.

You brought his hand — the flesh one — to your cheek, nuzzling into it. “I know… You were perfect, Bucky.”

A few moments passed in silence.

Then he cleared his throat. “You should… uh. Let me clean you up.”

You laughed softly. “What, getting shy now?”

He flushed. The Bucky Barnes blushing? You were keeping that in your pocket forever.

“I just—yeah, lemme take care of you, okay?” he muttered.

He grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser, ran one under warm water, and returned with a careful, almost reverent look.

He was quiet as he cleaned you up — too quiet. Focused. Gentle.

You tilted his chin up so he’d look at you again. “I’m not gonna break, Buck.”

“I know,” he said, smiling faintly. “But you’re still my doll.”

You blinked, surprised by how soft he sounded saying it out loud — like it slipped out without permission.

“…You’ve never called me that to my face before.”

He shrugged, looking away. “Didn’t want you to know how gone I was.”

He helped you off the counter and found your underwear with a grunt, slipping them into your hand with an adorably sheepish look.

You both fixed yourselves up, and when you opened the door, the gala still raged on like nothing happened.

But something had changed.

Because Bucky took your hand — not just to lead you out, not just for safety.

He held it.

And he didn’t let go.

[wolfwarrior142]

Gren also censored her from say "bullshit" in s1. And its not confirmed, but when Kazi said "an unusual way for your body to accommodate your sword," I feel like they meant that Amaya told Janai to shove her sword up her ass. Amaya canonically curses since s1 and its one of many reasons why she's great.

And I wanted to add that I'm very glad that Amaya was finally like, "No, I said what I said. Come on man tell him what I said." Queen (literally and figuratively)

Amaya is canonically swearing, Gren just won't let us hear it

[igotanidea]

Bait: Jason Todd x reader

aka: the one when Jason's family is using you to renew relationship with him

She certainly did not expect to see a huge bouquet sitting on top of her desk on rainy Friday morning.

And definitely did not want them.

Cause if there was one thing sure in the world it was that those flowers couldn’t have been a gift from Jason.

And if not from Jason this meant she had a secret admirer.

And since she was a taken and very in love woman, a man creeping on her could turn into a big problem, especially considering the fact that she was taken by no one else but Red Hood, who wasn;t a big fan of sharing.

“Y/N! Look, those came for you, this morning.”

“Uh. I see.” She muttered, trying to act unfazed by the excited squeals of her office bestie. How could she be so happy about it? And what the hell was her definition of morning if it was barely 8.30 am?

“You look like you’re mad about it.”

“I’m not mad about it-“

“Then what is it about?” God save Y/N from the office gossip and curious coworkers.

“Nothing. Nothing, it’s nothing.” She put a smile that was equally as big as it was fake, hoping it would be enough to nip this ridiculous conversation in the bud. “I got a lot of work, you know. How about we talk during the lunch break, how does that sound? Good? Great, see you later then!” Before anyone managed to chip in and threw their opinion into the newest office sensation Y/N closed the door to her room, using the unusual force of will power into not locking them. This place definitely didn’t have enough men on board, cause as much as she was a fan of women and their greatest cheerleader a firm full of girls could turn into a hen house at times.

Only after taking a few inhales and exhales did she begin the inspection of the gift, created from her favorite plants.

Hence – the person who sent it must have known her.

She started counting in her mind the amount of people who were close enough to dare to gather such knowledge, successfully limiting it to about 5 individuals.

Second clue was wrapping paper. The kind that only one flower shop in this silly city used. A very expensive one, hence someone truly must have put an effort into this.

And that made her narrow her suspect circle to three people.

But the final tell tale was a card, sticking innocently from the bottom. A teeny tiny note as if someone who endowed her hoped the recipient wouldn’t notice it.

Ha! Good try, but not when it came to Y/N. Honestly, living with Red Hood made her not as vigilant, as almost paranoid and sensitive to every detail.

Back to the gift card.

Two words. Two completely harmless words that under any other circumstances would mean absolutely nothing.

Thank you.

Oh hell no!

***

“Hello?”

“Dick! What the hell!?”

“Hello Y/N. So good to hear you too, how’s your day going?”

“Don’t try to placate me!”

“I swear you became so aggressive since living with Jason-“

“What the hell?!” she cried out again, circling the desk and the flowers as if it was a predator only waiting for the right opportunity to pounce at her, not that he could see it through the phone.

“I take it, you got my gift?”

“Oh, I got your  gift, all right. Thank you! I’m not doing you any favors, wing! I merely managed to get Jason to talk to you about-“

“Which was a small miracle by itself and I figured it would be nice to –“

“- to what? To freaking bribe me!?”

“Bribe you?!” Dick gasped, acting dramatically even through the phone “I’m hurt, Y/N. It’s nothing more but a token of my gratitude.” She could almost see his shit-eating grin through the phone.”

“It’s a freaking bribe, Dick!”

“It’s a token of gratitude!”

“Oh yeah? And what will you ask in return? Cause I know for sure I am being used to get to Jason. And that’s both betrayal to Jay and – “

“I would never use my favorite sister-in-law to – “

“I am not your sister in law!”

“Yet.” He cut her off with a hint of humor in voice. “But since we’re already speak I’ve been thinking that maybe you could – “

“Oh, what? What? Dick? I cannot hear you! I’m entering the tunnel – I’m – losing – the – connection….”

She hated using such a lame excuse to hang up on her boyfriend’s older brother but clearly, using any rational argument against Dick Grayson while in his playful attitude was completely futile. And a loss of energy, that she didn’t have in abundance.

But once again, she was starting to realize that forming a relationship with Jason was equal to getting into a mess of connections with his entire (huge) family.

***

She should have left those flowers in the office and that mistake became painfully clear the second the crossed the threshold of her and Jason’s apartment. There were no logical arguments against doing otherwise, besides the fact that it was upcoming weekend and no one would water thema and they would turn into dry sticks on Monday and since Dick bought them for her it would be a waste of money and –

Yeah, yeah, women logic.

Though, men’s logic was working in quite different, mysterious ways….

“Jay? I’m home! Something smells nice in here!”

Coat ended up in the wardrobe, shoes on the shelf, bag on the hanger and without much thinking she followed her nose to the kitchen, eyes landing on her boyfriend in that silly no bitchin in my kitchin apron, bustling about.

“Hi princess.” Obviously, he didn’t even have to turn around to sense her presence. “How was work today?”

“Like a sledgehammer. I swear, sometimes I feel like strangling half of the people there.”

“Do you need help with that violent activity?” he grinned and finally spun to face her, heading for a kiss on the forehead when his sharp gaze laser focused on the thing she was still holding in her hands. Laser gaze that turned from playful and loving to accusatory and cunning in a second. And regardless of how amazingly swiftly Jason was switching between his two personas, such transformation also send a shiver down her spine.

Not a nice kind of tremble.

“Y/n?”

“Um…”

“You got something to say to me?”

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear-“

“Princess.”

“I can explain!”

“Good. Good, sweetheart, because explanation is all I’m asking about.” Jason grinned, but it was the grin of Red Hood, who was expecting a low blow, right into the groin.

He stepped closer, wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other to carelessly toss the bouquet somewhere far away.

“I can’t remember buying them.” He pointed out, now sneaking the other arm on her, effectively but subtly preventing her potential escape.

“Hm? Oh no, you didn’t. In fact you haven’t bought me flowers since my birthday last year and – “

“nun-uh. Back to the point, Y/N.” he smiled again “where did you get them? Who did you get it from?”

“It’s not what you think!” She struggled against his grip.

“You have no idea what I think, love.”

“I’m not cheating on you!”

“I know.”

“Then what’s with the squeezing and hugging and – “

“Can’t a guy hold his girlfriend after a long day apart?”

“Since when are you so cuddly all of a sudden?!”

“Since some fucker is clearly trying to flirt with my woman!”

Oh…

He called her his woman. Not a girlfriend, not a girl, not any other sweet yet infantile word of affection.

His woman.

Making their entire relationship seem way more serious than –

Still being enraged and holding her captive until getting the info he wanted.

And that made her get back to reality from the cloud nine she was floating on.

“Who was it baby?” he whispered, leaning to nuzzle into her neck.

“No one!”

“Mhh. Don’t think so.” His lips moved upwards and to her ear. “You are protecting someone, I can tell. If it makes you feel any better, I can promise I won’t do any permanent damage. Just a broken leg or an arm as a reminder to keep a court mandated restraining order….”

“I take it you’re the presiding judge in this case?”

“Of course…” he kissed her briefly, rubbing soothing circles on her waist. “But cross my heart, no shooting, bleeding out or spine twisting.”

“Those are your arguments to convince me?”

“I can kiss you senseless and make you feel so high you’d babble it, but figured it was nice to try and ask.”

“Huh! Lucky me.” She scoffed.

Of course she could just tell him, but that would probably cause an interstate scandal and a very heated argument in a Wayne family.

If only Jason knew the scope of conspiracy against him-

She spaced out for a moment and those few seconds were used by Jason to take a look at the flowers on the floor and quickly get into the same conclusion about the donor she had earlier at the office.

“I’m going to fucking kill him!”

“What? NO! What happened to the no permanent damage!?”

“This is not permanent damage! This is terminal damage!” Jason yelled, grabbing his jacket and keys.

“And where is the difference in – Jason!? Jason! Where the hell are you—Oh my god….”

 ***

Living with Red hood under one roof was sure as hell far from peaceful, but never in her wildest dreams she wouldn’t think that it would get to such an extreme as chasing her biker boyfriend thought Gotham In a car.

***

“Where the hell is he?!” Jason busted through the door of Wayne Manor, acting like his usual self.

“Jason, what-“ Bruce looked up from his newspaper, displeased but not surprised by the commotion.

“I swear to God, when I get my hands on him-“

“Jason!” Y/N busted through the doors a few minutes later, and her appearance made quite a noticeable effect.

“Y/N.” Something akin to a smile bloomed on papa Wayne's face, getting as far as making him stand up and approach her. “So good to see you.”

“Yeah, um – nice to –“

“Listen, I’ve been thinking about something-“

“Yeah? You were?” she stuttered, looking above Bruce’s shoulder, helplessly observing Jason and Dick strangling, pushing and pulling, acting like two mad wrestlers in front of camera, much to Batman’s obliviousness. “Um… Bruce-“ her efforts to put his attention to the display of violence behind him came to nothing.

“Later. Now, I know you’ve been struggling to gather finances for your post-grad-“

“What? The hell you know that? Did you run a background check on me!?”

“And I was thinking I could loan you the amount –“ he skillfully omitted her question getting right to the point.

“L-loan me-?”

“Look, there’s no shame in asking your family for help. It’s natural.” Y/N could not believe the words Bruce was aiming her way. Family help? How could he be such a freaking hypocrite? When was his effing family help when Jason was struggling?

“Uh…” she groaned in total shock, while Dick and Jason were now running around the Manor, like a two five year olds playing chase, making so much noise it was getting almost hilarious that Bruce chose not to hear it.

“And I was hoping to see you and Jason at dinner on Saturday? And maybe next Saturday? And maybe every Saturday?”

Was that hope in Bruce’s voice?

“Over my dead body!” Jason’s yelling tore into the conversation and finally Bruce sighed, acting almost forced to intervene.

And the fact that his two sons were laying on the ground, one being half-choked the other flat on his back with the first on top of him made zero impression.

“Those are not funny words to use, Jason.”

“Those are when I say it.” Jason smirked almost vindictively.

“Get off Dick, Jason.”

“Like hell I am going to get off him.”

“I don’t know what I did!” Dick whined theatrically

“Don’t give me bullshit, Grayson! You bought her flowers!”

“As if it was the first time—AAH!”

It took the combined efforts of Y/N, Bruce and even Alfred (who had a miraculous talent of showing up when most needed) to stop Jason from knocking out Dick’s teeth.

“You!” he hissed, throwing his hands around, before grabbing onto Y/N and pulling her into his chest. “You are all a bunch of mentals! Using my girl to get to me! She’s not your fucking toy!” he held her even closer as if she was a precious baby, unaware of being treated like a pawn and having to be protected at all cost. “I swear if she wasn’t here I would –“

“Father, what is all that noise?”  Damian was standing on top of the stairs, looking down at everyone, both metaphorically and literally.

“We have guests.” Bruce stated with a flat tone.

“Oh, Y/L/N, good. I got those books you were looking for and –“

***

-        and she was forbidden to ever contact any of his family members ever again.