#i have some caps from when i read it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lymtw · 6 months ago

Text

Toji invites you over with a simple text of:

You busy tonight, doll?

To which you respond with:

I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?

He laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.

Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?

I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.

You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.

Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.

Drive safe.

Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.

You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.

He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.

Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.

"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.

"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"

"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.

"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.

"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."

He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.

"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.

You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.

Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".

Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.

"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.

"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.

"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"

You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.

One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.

You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.

You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.

"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.

"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.

"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.

"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"

"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.

"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."

With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.

"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.

Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.

"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.

Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."

Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.

"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"

The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.

Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"

"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"

He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."

You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.

"So?" Toji prompts.

"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.

Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.

"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.

"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.

You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.

"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."

You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.

"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.

"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."

Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.

You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.

This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.

"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.

"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."

He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"

"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.

"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.

"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.

"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.

"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.

"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.

He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.

"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."

"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.

He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.

You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.

You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.

He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.

With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.

"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"

Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.

"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."

Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.

"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.

You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.

"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."

You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.

"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.

"Why not?"

"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."

"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.

"Toji, don't look at me."

"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.

"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.

"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."

"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.

"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.

"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.

"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.

"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."

You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.

"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.

"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.

"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.

"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.

"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."

Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.

Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.

"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.

"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."

Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.

"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."

You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.

"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."

You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."

"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."

Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.

"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.

Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.

"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.

"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.

"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"

"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.

Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.

"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."

"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."

"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.

"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.

"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.

"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.

"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.

You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.

There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.

Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.

You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...

"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.

"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.

Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.

You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"

You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."

Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."

"So... boring."

"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.

You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."

"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."

You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.

"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.

"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.

"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.

You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.

"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.

"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.

"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. "There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."

"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.

"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."

You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.

He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."

That went out to every version of you.

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anisespice · 6 months ago

Text

“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev.

cont.

synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))

notes: i just want the drama >:) may make more parts, and even extend said headcannons into longer fics in the future, but wanted to post something quick for mother’s day. hope you enjoy!

When you disappeared off the face of the earth, MIKEY had never been the same. One fight. One argument that spiraled out of control, and you were just gone...

He had people looking for you for about a couple years, the trail ran cold after a while and he had half a mind to think you were dead. Up until he got intel of your whereabouts one morning during a meeting.

That man got up and left immediately.

He wasn’t accompanied with any of his men, only because he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention in the broad daylight. Sure, him wearing a black hood, ball cap, and mask in a park didn’t really help him look inconspicuous but it at least concealed his identity enough for him to blend in. Mikey sat on a bench for a good forty minutes, anxious, making anyone who passed him shiver from his intense aura alone; even birds walked around him. After almost an hour of waiting, he began to feel frustrated. Perhaps, the intel was false. Just as he went to stand, already conjuring up ways to have Sanzu execute the idiot who wasted his time, he heard it.

Your voice. Seizing him, like a siren’s call.

His eyes were alert, darting around until they landed on your figure, spotlighted by the sun, like an angel descending from the heavens. You looked good, healthy. That was good. An array of emotions fought for their turn in Mikey’s heart—Relief, distress, anger, nostalgia. He couldn’t just pick one, especially when it came to you. As he watched from his spot, doing his best to not seem suspicious, he clocked the people you were approaching with excitement, your peppy stride as you waved at, what he presumed, to be mother and daughter.

However, his entire world turned upside down when the little girl extended out her arms towards you, and said “Mama!”

“Hello, my darling.~” You cooed, taking her into your awaiting arms from the woman, embracing the toddler tightly. “Mama missed you so much.”

“Missed you, mama!” was the child’s reply, followed by her giggles.

A bucket of cold water would’ve been better than this. Watching you converse with who he now assumes to be the babysitter, Mikey felt faint. Vision blurring, head pounding, heart clenching. You…you…no. There’s no way. You wouldn’t have moved on…you couldn’t have, not like this, not from him. You loved him, didn’t you? You still love him, didn’t you?

How could you…how could you?

Before he knew it, he started to follow you around. From the park, to the store, all the way back to your apartment. He already phoned some of the executives to start working in on the babysitter, and anyone else in your new found circle for information. He wanted answers. He needed them.

By the time you began fixing dinner, with your daughter laid down for a nap, you receive a knock at your door. Who could that be at this hour?

RAN was chilling outside the rendezvous spot for something the boss and a few other execs were participating in, having a smoke, minding his business, up until he sees a little girl with pigtails wearing a school uniform approaching, standing before him and just…staring. She barely came up to his thighs, could've been no older than seven. She was practically staring into his soul with bright lavender eyes that scarily reminded him of Rin’s when he was that age.

He stared back, head tilted as he blew out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The hell was a kid doing on this side of town?

Then, after an uncomfortable staring contest, the little girl points at his cigarette. “My ma says those things are bad for you.”

Ran raised a brow, “Does she now?”

“Mmhm! She says it makes people unhappy.”

He offered a thoughtful nod, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Mm. Do I look unhappy?”

The girl looked at Ran for a minute, eyes squinted. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. But, ma also says people who are always unhappy get better at hiding it.”

Ran’s grin faltered. Her unwavering stare started to unnerve him, especially after hearing such a heavy statement come from such a small package.

After a brief moment of silence, he chuckled softly, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. He exhaled. “Smart woman.”

The little girl beamed, “Mmhm! My ma knows a lot of stuff.”

“Tsk. But not ‘Stranger Danger’, apparently.”

She tilted her head, curious. “Huh?”

“You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself, let alone approaching someone you don’t know. ‘s not safe. Especially for nosy little girls who stick their noses in other people’s business. Your ma never taught you that?”

The little girl rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “Duh. Of course she did. Everyone knows that rule,” she exasperated. Ran snorted, but yielded when she squinted at him, pointing as she sassed. “And I do so know you, so you’re not a stranger.”

This time, Ran couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Oh, you know me, huh? That’s not good. ‘m supposed to keep a low profile. Say, you ain’t a cop are you?” He teased, earning another eye roll.

“No. Too small to be a cop, dummy.”

“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t notice. Where do you know me from, then?”

The little girl pointed over to the building..where the executives were having their meeting. She beamed, “Ma’s works in there. On important people days she can’t get me from school, so she tells me to come straight here, and to not talk to the purple man that stands near the building. She says you’re mean.”

Ran smirked, then gave a half-hearted shrug.

“She also says you’re my pa. But, I never believed her. You’re too old.”

Ran’s smirk dropped.

Whether more from the first comment or the last, you decide. But, one thing was for certain: he needed another cigarette.

SANZU cackled watching some guy struggle to round up a couple of rowdy twins at the convenience store. One was knocking shit off the shelves while the other ran circles around the guy. It was what he needed for his bitch of a hangover, a good laugh to distract from the ache in his skull.

However, he wasn’t laughing for long when you came around the corner of the isle, holding a few items with a smile on your face that soon faded once you saw the scene unfolding before you; the pinkette thought he was still tripping balls. Blinking a few times to allow any after effects of the drugs to clear up, when you didn’t disappear he used his long legs to swiftly yeet behind one of the shelves, peering around it like some paranoid stalker. The last time you had spoken, you had threatened to castrate him with your teeth if you ever saw him again.

And he’d be damned if he tried your bluff.

He watched in awe as you straightened those twins up quick. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were trained to obey you, and only you. Any other authority be damned. While the guy was putting all the stuff back on the shelves, sweaty and out of breath, you gently reprimanded them for causing trouble. You still made that cute pouty face you always did whenever you were mad at him…

“What did we talk about earlier? Hm? Mr. Satoru was very kind to help mama today, you know. You two promised me you’d be on your best behavior for him.”

Sanzu gagged. This was the rebound you let nut in you? This huffy moron who can’t handle a couple of ankle biters, this was your king? He had half a mind to just gut the guy to put him out of his misery from that pathetic display from earlier, alone. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be back home. He remembers when he was that age—Rowdy, reckless, the Antichrist. Adorable, but deadly. God bless that poor bastard’s soul.

Wait…Mister? Not…dad?

The first twin whined, stomping their feet. “He’s too boringggg!”

Come to think of it…if Sanzu squinted…the longer he looked at the little family…he swore the more he saw the resemblance of himself in the tiny gremlins. From the hair, to the eyes, all the way down to the mannerisms…Hang on. When had been the last time you two fucked? Three…no, was it four years ago?

The second twin huffed, pointing at the man. “Yeah! And he’s jus’ being nice so that he can sleep in your bed, mama!”

You flushed, nervously chuckling as you looked around to make sure no one heard. Sanzu ducked behind a bag of chips, now nothing but eyes peeking through the gaps of food on the shelf.

So…that loser’s not the father? Then…could that mean..?

“He’s mama’s boyfriend, remember? He’s allowed to do that. And he’ll be around for a while, so I want you two to be nice, okay?”

“…okay, mama.” They grumbled.

Sanzu almost popped a blood vessel, fist clenched around a bag of Lays and nearly busting it. He chuckled darkly, “Oh. We’ll see about that.”

likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

#🍁wasabi #happy mom day :] !!#tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev angst #tokyo rev fluff #tokyorev fluff #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev #tokyo rev imagine #tokyo rev x reader #bonten x reader #bonten #mikey x reader #ran x reader #sanzu x reader

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lethalhoopla · 2 years ago

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Hey so! I'm gonna take the above in good faith as best I can and respond genuinely, because I know a lot of people, especially artists, feel very strongly one way or the other about AI-generated images - making it all too easy to miss each other's core points. And I think a lot gets lost in translation between 'sides', as even though everyone's responding to one another the unstated 'question' they're trying to answer is actually different. Namely: people against the AI trend tend to be responding to "is AI bad for stealing art?" while people who are trying to argue AI isn't inherently bad are often responding to "can AI benefit artists?"

I think once people start feeling strongly on a topic, it's easily to accidentally fall into the eternal human problem (that's even easier on the internet) of "inventing a guy" - in this case, a guy that feels there's black and white morality here in either direction. Some people feel strongly enough that they think even in spite of the potential good that all AI generating attempts should be shut down, while others feel strongly that there's enough good to be had they think everyone should just try and make the best of it all.

It's not misinformation that the op said "CSP is including a feature for ai art so it's easier than ever to steal credit from artists" - I can't be sure of their intent, but hell, they even put the pic of the tweet itself where CSP said they weren't feeding Stable Diffusion user's art. They weren't hiding that fact. The stealing in question isn't necessarily about CSP users - but rather, that SD is built on stolen art. Anything SD generates is inherently built on incredibly shady and dubiously ethical practices of scraping art from the internet.

(Insert a thousand arguments here, I know. But it wasn't until SD 2.0 - released Nov 23 - that SD users were blocked from easily and explicitly generating images to mimic certain artists styles; say what you will about 'learning' and 'style mimicking' in flesh-and-blood artists, the fact that those artists will never have an option to fully remove their art 'data' fully once its been used is pretty fucked up.)

That said, I don't want to put words in people's mouths, so I'm going to focus on why people are pissed about CSP + Stable Diffusion.

See, plenty of us that aren't happy about this know that CSP isn't feeding user's art into Stable Diffusion! That's definitely a relief. The problem that a lot of us have - both with this 'collaboration' and with SD itself - is that Stable Diffusion is built on stolen art.

(And, to be clear: art includes photography. Stolen photography is also feeding these things, and that's just as messed up.)

In other words, no matter how good your intentions, even if you aren't making money off of - for example - using the 'AI' to generate a background - it's impossible to extricate a result that hasn't benefited from 'learning' from countless works from artists who did not consent to their work being used to train a machine.

Supposedly, future versions of Stable Diffusion will have ways for artists to opt-out of their work being used as training data. Still, that's a nebulous promise; and Stable Diffusion is open source. While I'm normally a fan of open source software, what that means is that people can and do simply make their own version and add back in the 'training sets' that they want their generated images to 'learn' from. In other words, it's extremely easy for people to just... add those opted-out artists right back in to their 'own' version of SD. (The discord for it is rife with advice on 'training' your own SD instance...)

There's a viewpoint I see from people who have less-to-no problem with programs like SD who say that well, other artists learn and get inspired from other artists too, and hell, working artists on creative teams often even get shown specific artists' work and are told to 'do something like that. This discussion gets even muddier than the rest fast, because frankly, it gets philosophical as hell - how is machine learning different from a person learning/training their art skills over time, etc etc? Seriously, dissertations can be written on that.

I think where I personally land is based more on the outcome of this machine learning.

Essentially: while in a perfect world this could just be a cool inspirational tool to boost artists, we live in a capitalist, corporate-profit-driven world that will use these tools in every worst way and leverage the technology to cut out the 'lower tier' artists on their teams. Entry-level artist positions, critical to even building up the experience and further skills necessary to make it to senior positions - or build up enough connections/portfolio to snag one of those spots. Will every art position be lost? Likely not - top tier artists in the field will still be kept to do the highest concept/proof work, or finesse whatever AI generators give, etc etc. But there's a great Kotaku article that interviews artists and creatives on all sides of the issue that puts it well, I think, and while interviewing one artist:

Jon Juárez, an artist who has worked with Square Enix and Microsoft, agrees that some companies and clients will only be too happy to make use of AI art. “Many authors see this as a great advantage, because this harvesting process offers the possibility of manipulating falsely copyright-free solutions immediately, otherwise they would take days to arrive at the same place, or simply would never arrive”, he says . “If a large company sees an image or an idea that can be useful to them, they just have to enter it into the system and obtain mimetic results in seconds, they will not need to pay the artist for that image. These platforms are washing machines of intellectual property.”

To be completely fair, this article also includes plenty of quotes from artists who have less of a problem with AI-generated art! And I understand where they're coming from. Some are just viewing it with mild resignation and 'well people steal my art anyways so what's the difference with a robot', and others as a cool potential tool for themselves. Some of the most optimistic - and I love their ideas, honestly, they genuinely helped me see the pros beyond the cons - are focusing on the ways they can broaden their own art horizons and grow even more as artists. I recommend reading that article for their PoV, too.

Honestly, I want to be excited about AI-training here. I love sci-fi shit. I love thinking about the future where we get robots who Are People.

'AI', however, is not artificial intelligence. Not even close. At best, virtual intelligence; and more blatantly, just a complicated machine with very well-tailored tag audits. What's undeniable in AI 'art' is that it is wholly built off of other people's time, sweat, and hard-earned skills. I could go on a tangent here about that whole difference-between-machine-and-people bit, how there's just inherently more effort in an artist that requires dedication and determination and ingenuity and developing your own eye and skills, but honestly, I'm mostly horrified by the lack of respect for artists, and the lack of choice.

I think one of the more notable examples of how this has really fucked over an artist that originally had a 'hey this'll be fine' stance is Greg Rutkowksi. He's a prolific and phenomenal artist, works a lot in concept art - and just so happens to be one of the top used 'prompts' in AI generators. I highly recommend giving this article about his case in particular a read.

Basically: by the time he realized AI-generated images with his work as tags were dominating search engine results rather than his own work when searching his own name, it was too late to try to get the AI art generators to stop using his work. Hell, they couldn't take it out if they tried.

Worse yet, even with efforts to reduce the ease with which prolific artist's styles can be copied, he's known as a 'shortcut' to a high-quality image generated.

Let's be clear: stealing art is stealing labor.

To feed an image-generating machine artworks that were not freely given is to feed someone else's labor into a machine they have no say, no gain, no return from. Artists spend years developing their skills. Years. Even if they're primarily inspired by one artist - big if - they are still developing their own style that is colored by their visual analysis, the quirks of their mind and taste, their experiences, hell even the fine motor control of their hands. No two artists are exactly alike - even if one's damn good at mimicking styles. That in itself is a skill to be valued.

Now, to be fair, as mentioned above: Stable Diffusion's latest release, 2.0, has severely curbed the ability to mimic exact artist's styles. And I do want to give credit for that- someone, somewhere in that team, listened to the anger and frustration of artists - or at least the ethical and possibly legal concerns. (Because yes, the generator used copyright protected artwork as much as 'art posted for fun'.) But to be just as clear: Stable Diffusion is open source, and the data needed to simply add unwilling artists' works back in is easy-access. There is a vocal and active community supporting this.

With all this in mind... I'm still against any art program collaborating with current major art generators. They have other reasons, and I get chasing the tech trends. I get why some people, artists included, are in favor of just using the tech now that it's there.

But I hope it can be understood why there is such a vocal opposition - and why it might come off as a 'moral black and white' matter; they're speaking strongly about it, often in short bursts. Pretty much no one's gonna read all this just because it's long - but it takes minimum this much to begin to address anything. And I left so much out of this. Point is, though: faced with everything as-is, it's hard for someone strongly against current models to see other options beyond starve out the current programs. Don't give them an inch. Do not support even tangentially with your money.

I'm not saying anyone above has to agree with that path. Just - give some more thought to where those of us against it are coming from.

I doubt I'm going to change anyone's mind. That's okay. I think a lot about this kind of stuff, as both a tech-minded nerd and an artist; and I think a lot about how so much is lost in translation when we're all inclined to respond in a handful of sentences. A lot is lost in translation.

I want there to be collaborative efforts to make art, and broaden what possibilities are out there! Honestly, I wish there were more efforts in this quickly expanding space to make opt-in-only, from scratch, AI generators. Hell, make one from public domain and free to use images! Give artists tools and resources to help - not push them out of their own damned field.

I'm not fool enough to think any of it's going away. But I'm also not fool enough to think that anything built on current generator models (Stable Diffusion, Dall-E's OpenAI, Midjourney...) can possibly be fully ethical. And that's the rub - that's what sucks about this new feature from CSP. It's built on inherently unethically sourced work. Labor. It's hard to pretend I'm anything but frustrated when the shoddy foundation of this whole AI-generated image business continues to be ignored.

... Also. Hey. Hey, everyone? Don't fucking pirate indie creator's projects. Toby Fox is one fucking guy making a game with only the help of a couple people for graphics and such. Don't steal shit from creators like that. Or from indie authors, indie comic creators, or indie musicians, or etc. What the fuck. That's not the same as pirating a movie from goddamn Gisney or fucking microsoft word or whatever. Being broke sucks, I get it, I've been there with fuckin $4 in my account before. I'm glad the above commenter bought it eventually, but for real. Please realize the difference between corporations and indie creators.

CSP is including a feature for ai art so it's easier than ever to steal credit from artists

#long post #too long i know i know no one's gonna read it #but. ugh. i wanted to put it all to words.#the fuckin 'got a degree in words/persuasion/getting ideas across' in me is constantly frustrated by how easily nuance is lost #i understand why the rifts between sides on this keep growing #i promise that even when people shorten their stance to 'fuck ai generated images' there's often a lot of reason behind it #(maybe some ppl don't go beyond that idk. i'm not omnipotent and people are people lol. but there's a lot of people with Reasons.)#and it's not bc of sticking head in the sand and refusing to see the cool potential #i've seen some artist groups play with the idea of making one their own that they can feed their own images - as sources of inspo!#for themselves only!#that's cool as hell!! especially when a lot of artists are overworked and underpaid #could really be a boon #and there are totally a lot of positives to see in hobby art too - on top of things like generating inspiration or simple bgs or more #maybe you just make fanart and just want a cool way to make backgrounds for your blorbos and man do i get it #i get it. gods do i get it #i WANT to turn off my brain #and have fun with Cool Funny/Pretty Image Generator #but its a capitalism and labor exploitation thing as much as anything else #literally online newspapers and magazines are already capping articles with ai-generated images where they used to pay artists/photographer #like. this isn't THEORY. it's already in practice.#stealing art is stealing labor i don't know how else to put it #you HAVE to get permission. it's just not the same as an artist learning from other artists. there's so many variables.

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starkeysprincess · 15 days ago

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⟢ LET THIS BE A REMINDER

presenting kinktober day 5 ➔︎ ghostface!rafe x final girl!reader

warnings: DUBCON !! primal play (predator/prey), knife play + carving/branding, blood + blood play, unprotected sex, creampie, spitting, choking, pussy slapping, spanking, degrading, praise, brief orgasm denial, threatening/blackmail 18+ mdni word count: 3.2k

A/N: i just want to say thank you to everyone who took the time to read my silly, slutty little fics. i came into kinktober highly nervous because this year is my first time doing it, but y'all have truly made this experience the absolute best !! i love you all so so sooo much, MWAH !!!

kinktober m.list ⟡ rafe m.list

you jerk awake, sitting up with your chest heaving frantically as you flip the switch of the lamp on your bedside table. the small white light illuminates the room, and you turn your head to look at the corner of your bedroom, only to find nothing. a sigh of relief leaves you, and your body starts to relax, knowing there is nothing in the room but you, “it was just another nightmare. you’re fine. he’s long gone; he can’t get you,” you tell yourself.

you pinch the bridge of your nose; there is no way you could fall back asleep now. you reached for your phone, swung your legs off the bed, and planted your feet onto the carpeted floor. you lazily strolled down the stairs to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. you leaned against the counter, lost in your thoughts, as you stared at the bottle in front of you, debating if you should take the medication you were prescribed last year to help you sleep.

you grabbed the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took two into your mouth before swallowing them. the loud ringing of your phone startled you, and you reminded yourself that you were safe. it’s probably nothing you tell yourself when you see ‘No Caller ID’ displayed on the screen.

“hello?” you answer, holding the phone close to your ear when all you can hear is the sound of heavy breathing, “hello? i think you have the wrong number,” you huff, growing agitated. who would call you this late at night?

“you and your little friends got the wrong guy,” the distorted voice echoed in your ear. ”what are you talking about?” you stood up, straightening your posture, “don’t play dumb; you know what I‘m talking about.”.

“the man they arrested last year, topper thornton. he isn’t the killer. he never was,” the voice snickers, “he isn’t necessarily the most innocent man, but it’s not him.”.

“there was enough evidence against topper; everything pointed to him being the killer. i don’t know who this is, but how are you sure it’s not him?”. there was nothing but an eerie silence for a second until the voice spoke again, “because I’m the killer.”.

“really funny, asshole. if you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working. don’t you think I’m used to receiving countless prank calls? do me a favor and don’t call me again,” you snort.

a chill ran up your spine at their chuckle, “oh, my sweet little bunny…a prank call? is that what you think this is? this is far from a prank call,” they paused, “y’know, you look good in white, it makes you look so sweet and innocent.”.

your hands trembled, pulling the phone away from your ear to end the call. you let out a shaky breath, ‘it’s just some asshole trying to scare you,’ you repeat to yourself, pushing the thought to the back of your mind as you head back upstairs to your room.

you push your door open, your eyebrows knitting in confusion when you notice the light from your lamp is off. you turn the bedroom light switch on, and a blood-curdling scream erupts from within you at the sight in front of you.

there, on your mirror, was a message written in blood, ‘i’m coming for you next.’.

you’ve been on edge since the incident occurred a few days ago, especially after sheriff shoupe informed you that not only weren’t there any indications of a break-in, but they never found the threatening message you received. it had been wiped clean, almost as if the ghostface killer was taunting you; it was his way of telling you he was still in your home when you had made the call, painting it to look like you had gone insane.

when you brought it up to the pogues, they tried to give a reasonable explanation, “there was blood on the mirror! i’m not making any of this up,” you argued, noticing the pitiful looks on your friends’ faces. “don’t look at me like that, okay? i know what I saw,” you scoffed.

“we’re not saying we don’t believe you, but it doesn’t make sense. i mean, think about it. it’s been a year since the murders,” john b pointed out.

the pogues nodded in agreement, “john b is right, if it wasn’t topper, then why did the murders stop when he got arrested? if the killer is still out there, why wait a year to attack and terrorize again? i think it was just another brainless kook trying to scare you,” pope theorized.

“you need a distraction, and the situation is bothering you. so, i say we go to the fair,” jj grinned, his smile dropping when the entire group groaned, “come on, it’s halloween! besides, it’s not like any of you have plans.”.

the fair was filled with laughter as most people, along with you and the pogues, waited in line for one of the rides. you were pushed up against random people, easily overwhelmed by such a large crowd, and wanting nothing more than space.

you slip out of line, catching your friends’ attention, “where are you going?”.

“this line is insane, and it’s too overwhelming. i’m just going to walk around a bit,” you informed, only for pope to ask if you wanted one of them to come with you. “no, it’s okay. i have my phone on me, so one of you can call me whenever you’re off the ride,” you waved your phone in front of the group.

you continued wandering away from the group and stopped in your tracks when you came across the closed-off entrance to the haunted corn maze, which piqued your interest.

figuring it would be the best place to clear your head, you looked around, noting that no one was watching as you ducked under the rope to enter the maze. your shoes scruff against the dirt, the few dried stalks of corn crunching under your feet the further you made your way into the maze, the only source of light coming from the soft, yellow glow of the moon.

you tap on your phone's screen, grumbling to yourself when you realize the pogues won’t be able to reach you due to no longer having any signal.

you continue walking, wrapping your arms around your waist, stopping at the feeling of being watched. “you’re just being paranoid,” you mumble as you come across the path that now forked into two.

the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the sound of rustling from behind, and you whip around, your eyes darting back and forth, frowning when you find nothing. you turn back around, your eyes widening, and a scream escapes from your throat at the sight of ghostface standing before you, tilting his head as he stares at you.

“told you i was comin’ for you,” his altered voice rang through your ears before he lunged towards you. you duck, barely escaping from his grasp, before running down the left path of the maze, “go on and run bunny! i like the chase!” he chuckles.

you could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage, knowing he was hot on your tail, your feet carrying you as fast as they could. turn after turn, you look behind you, “you can run all you want, but there’s nowhere to hide!”.

your lungs were on fire the faster you ran, your head turning to look in front of you, panic starting to kick in when you’re met with a dead end.

“dead end? gotta say it must be my lucky night,” he taunts, taking in your trembling form, “aw, you poor thing. are you scared? you should be, but that’s okay, i like ‘em scared.”.

all you could do was back away the closer he stepped forward until your back was flush against the corn stalks.

“i’m a bit disappointed. i like a challenge, and you made the chase far too easy,” he ridiculed, “i’ll tell you what, let’s make it interesting and play a little game. the rules are simple. if you manage to find your way out of this maze before i catch you, i’ll let you go…but if you don’t, let’s just say I finally get to have my way with you.”.

you can’t help but press your thighs together, craning your neck to the side, turning away from him, ashamed at the fact his words turned you on. “don’t you dare look away from me,” he sneered, his knife glinting in the moonlight as he gently traced it along your cheek to your chin, turning your head to face him again.

“answer me,” he commanded, the blood draining from your face when he moved the knife down your neck, nicking the flesh enough to break through the skin as he removed his mask, revealing himself.

“surprised, bunny?” rafe smirks, enjoying the stunned look on your face, his eyes fixating on the small drop of blood coming from the cut on your neck that he caused. rafe dips his head down, letting out a throaty chuckle as he licks at the blood. his tongue sweeps along your neck and up to your ear, biting at the lobe, “what do you say? do you wanna play a game?”.

you nod when he pulls away, not trusting your voice, “good girl, i’ll give you a head start…starting now,” he whispers, stepping aside.

it was almost embarrassing, yet sick, how turned on you were, your panties sticking to you as you took off running. you run, turning right, then taking a left turn, letting out a shriek as you trip over your feet when rafe’s arms wrap around your waist, causing you to stumble onto the ground.

“gotcha,” he grins, turning you on your back as he pins your wrists above your head with one hand. “you gonna be a good girl f’me?” he asks, running the blade of the knife down your chest as you gazed up at him, nodding, “yes.”.

he hums, slipping the knife underneath the fabric and using it to pull your shirt up to reveal your bare tits, “no bra, hm? dirty girl,” he tsks. he lightly presses the flat of the knife against your nipples, watching as they harden from the coolness of the steel. he releases your wrists, his hand traveling down to your hips, reaching for the hem of your skirt, pushing it till it bunches around your waist. you winced as he nicked your sensitive, soft skin, blood slowly trickling from the cut he made when he dragged the blade between the valley of your breasts.

“hmm, even with blood staining your skin, you still look fuckin’ pretty,” rafe purred, lowering his head. his tongue reaches out, flattening against your sternum to chase after the trail of blood. a small yelp leaves your lips when his teeth sink into your nipple, sucking the hardened bud into his mouth. he presses his knee to your clothed cunt, grinning against your nipple as he feels your hips subconsciously rut against him before pulling away, sitting back on the heels of his feet, and tauntingly dragging the knife lower and lower.

you squirm under him as the tip of the knife reaches the waistband of your panties, his eyes catching sight of the wetness seeping through them, “huh, would you look that? soaking right through your panties…you like this, don’t you? like the fact that the big scary killer is takin’ what he wants?”.

“y-yes,” you breathed, feeling him hook the blade under the waistband of your panties, “mm, that’s what I thought.”.

“could’ve done this a whole lot sooner if i had known a filthy little pogue like you would be into this shit,” he teased, the edge of the knife slicing through the flimsy material. he pulls the now-torn panties off your hips, tossing them aside, your thighs parting when he silently tells you to spread them, tapping the handle of his knife to your inner thighs.

he licks his lips, “gonna show you who owns this messy cunt by carving my name into your pretty skin.”.

a yelp travels up your throat, eyes welling with tears and screwing shut when the tip of his knife carved an ‘r’ and ‘c’ into the flesh of your hip. “there you go. all done and branded as mine,” rafe coos, leaning back to admire his work that was now permanently etched into your skin.

he brings the blade to your mouth, “taste yourself, bunny,” he orders, carefully pressing the knife onto your tongue when you open your mouth. he groans to himself, watching the blood from the knife coat your tongue. he cups your jaw, fingers pressing into your cheeks and spitting into your mouth, “atta girl,” he praises as you swallow.

rafe turns the blade of the knife towards him, running the handle up your inner thighs to your soaked cunt, and you suck in a breath when he teases your clit with it before bringing it back down to your slick folds. a gasp spilled from your mouth when he slips the handle deep into your cunt, your hips bucking as he slowly fucks you with it, pushing it in and out of your sopping cunt.

”oh–” you moan as he continues fucking you with the handle, moving it faster. his cock throbs, watching with a smirk as your head lolls back, “this needy little pussy will take anything I give it, huh?”.

you roll your hips in time with each thrust of the handle. “i asked a question,” rafe gritted his teeth, earning a squeal from you when he gives a harsh slap to your cunt, his ring catching against your clit.

“yes!” you cry out, your legs starting to shake, and you clench around the handle. rafe lands another slap on your cunt, abruptly halting the movements of the handle and pulling it from your cunt, knowing you were on the verge of your orgasm. “n-no, why’d you stop?” you whined, jutting your bottom lip out to pout up at him, making him suck his teeth and shake his head, “should’ve been a good girl and answered me the second i asked a question.”.

your lips quiver, tears filling your eyes in frustration, “p-please, rafe. i’ll listen and be a good girl, i promise.”.

“p-please, rafe,” he mimicked, “you want it that bad? beg for it, then…beg for it, and i’ll make you scream so loud that the entire fuckin’ fair can hear me ruining this needy pussy.”.

“please, rafe. I need you…please fuck me,” you pleaded, looking at him with glassy eyes. “now that wasn’t so hard, was it, bunny?” rafe rasps, tossing his knife a few feet away onto the dirt. your eyes flicker to his hands working his belt, watching him shrug his pants and boxers down his thighs. his hard, thick cock sprung free, slapping against his stomach, and his hands settled on your waist, pulling you with him as he lays flat on his back onto the ground of the corn maze.

“go on. take what you want and fuck yourself dumb on my cock,” he grins, gripping the base of his cock, teasingly running the thick head along your slick folds, enjoying the way you writhed above him. his hands grab your hips, your pussy stretching around his cock as he pulls you onto his length. your palms lay flat on his chest, steadying yourself as you move your hips, moaning softly as he palms your tits, rolling and pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers.

the air is filled with the noises of your ass smacking against his thighs as you bounce yourself up and down his cock, “yeah…just like that,” rafe groans. his hand reaches up, grabbing your throat to pull you down, capturing your lips in a sloppy, wet kiss. you squealed when he rolled the two of you over, pulling out before flipping you onto your stomach.

your back arches as he shoves your face down onto the ground, giving him a perfect view of your glossy cunt. his fingers intertwined with your locks of hair, pushing on the side of your head, making your cheek press further into the dirt.

his large hands glide up the curve of your ass, “such a sweet little ass,” he hummed in approval. your body jolts forward when his palm comes in contact with the fatty flesh, “but it’s not as sweet as your perfect little cunt.”.

“rafe, stop teasing–” you whine out, a sharp gasp cutting you off when his cock slams into you in one harsh thrust. he grips your hips to keep you still, snapping his hips into yours, “so fuckin’ tight.”.

his lips part, watching the way your pussy swallows around him, sucking him in deeper. you squirm under him, your nails clawing into the dirt beneath you as he pounds into you, “this little cunt is nothin’ but a hole for me to use, isn’t that right?”.

“please use me–” you hiccup, pushing yourself back against his dick, “y’know I can’t say no when you’re acting like a little cock-hungry whore,” he chuckles, his grip on your hair tightening, tugging at the roots. you feel the thick band of his belt wraps around the front of your throat, gasping when your head is pulled back harshly, “knew you’d fuckin’ like this…could feel you dripping down my balls,” rafe chuckles.

your pussy squelches around his cock as he relentlessly pounds into your drooling cunt, the pleasure overpowering the pain of the leather of his belt digging into your neck. he yanks your head back even further, his belt tightening around your throat, your back flush to his chest, “look at you…you’re either sick in the head for letting a murderer fuck you, or your pussy is so fuckin’ desperate for some dick.”.

he slips his hand around your waist to your stomach and feels his cock bulging in your lower abdomen, “feel that? feel how deep i’m in your guts?”.

you thrash in his hold as his palm presses down against the bulge in your belly, his cock rubbing against your walls with each harsh thrust. your brain goes blank, your head spinning, and nothing but incoherent words fall from your lips as his tip repeatedly hits your cervix, “what was that, bunny? oh, right…that little brain of yours can’t form a single thought as I’m fuckin’ you dumb, huh?”.

“s’okay, i know what you need,” he purred, “c’mon, be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”.

your walls flutter and squeeze around him, eyes rolling into the back of your skull, your legs trembling and ready to give out. your hands grasp his arm around your waist, crying out his name as you come all over his cock.

rafe holds you steady as your body goes limp, his cock pounding into your abused cunt, “gonna stuff this pussy full of my cum, and you’re gonna take every single drop.”.

rafe’s thrusts become sloppy, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck as his cock twitches. his hips falter, giving you one more thrust; he pushes himself deep inside you, groaning in your ear as his thick ropes of cum spill into you.

your chest heaves, panting for air when he releases his belt from around your neck. his thumb caresses the initials of his name that he had carved into your flesh, “let this be a reminder that i own you. if you try to tell the cops that you know who the real killer is, i won’t be as nice next time”.

taglist: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @cameronsprincess @starkeysbabygirl @xxbimbobunnyxx @rafecameroninterlude @starkeygirlposts @zyafics @fae-of-prey @heartsforvin @sturnioloshacker @sematarygirls @drewsarms @nemesyaaa @fallbhind @rafesthroatbaby @hallecarey1 @fallrafwe @sturnskiss @blckbrrybasket @rafeyscurtainbangs @wearemadeofstardust0 @honeybunniesoobin @starkeysbebe @spid6y @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandabbbbb @kisses4angels @starkeysheart @rafeinterlude @starkeyisthelastname @flvredcas @emilysuperswag @mackenzie-maybank @hyperfixationgirl @ijustwanttoreadlols @slumnit @cl4uus @coco-cinnamon @zayluvss @stoned-writer

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chaotic-birds · 2 months ago

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1-800-red-hoods-gas-station-attendant-service

Your boyfriend's not fond of you pumping your own gas at night, so he insists you don't do it alone.

🩹 G/AUs: fluff, est. relt. 🩹 TW: reader (f) is called beautiful, pretty, princess, baby, doll (i love nicknames okay leave me alone 😭), mentions of blood and fighting 🩹 WC: 1.5k 🩹 A/N: Inspired by this reel (sfw). Just a little fun and easy read 💗 enjoy!

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)

masterlist

Ever since Jason caught a group of people trying to rob someone at the gas station a week ago, he’s insisted you not get gas alone—especially at night.

Your arguments fall on deaf ears. He’s put his foot down and covered it in cement. There’s nothing you can say to make Jason change his mind.

“Hey, beau”—grunts—”tiful. Need somethin’?” Jason asks after the fourth ring.

You can faintly hear the sound of fists hitting skin in the background.

“You busy, handsome?” you wonder, eyes glancing at the low fuel light glaring at you. You already know his answer and the real answer before he speaks.

“Nope,” he answers followed by more grunting. “You home from your ladies' night?”

Upon seeing a gas station in the distance, you signal to take the highway's exit ramp.

“Not yet. I called because I’m low on gas and need to get some to make it home. I figured calling you while I pumped—”

“Where are you?” he asks instead, voice slightly strained.

“Near upper west side.”

“Come to the diamond district, and I’ll meet you there.”

You pull into an empty pump station.

“I’m already at a gas station, Jay. Just—”

“It’s not safe.”

“You’re tracking my location and you can hear—”

“It’s not safe to use your phone while getting gas too,” he continues to interrupt.

You heave a sigh and lean back into your seat, unable to stop your eyes from checking your locks. Although you’ve always been weary of pumping gas at night, you try not to be too paranoid. You hate being on edge all the time.

“Please, doll?” he pleads, breathing heavier.

There are curses in the background that don’t sound like Jason. His attackers must not like him much.

“Alright, but hurry. My light’s on,” you say. You sit straighter and shift gears to leave.

“I’m on my way now. Hey, Red Ro—”

The line cuts off, but you figure Jason’s recruiting Tim to take care of his loose ends. You feel bad for taking Jason away from his work, but you don’t want him to be upset with you for getting gas by yourself. He’s not fun when he’s grumpy.

Jason’s sitting comfortably on his motorcycle when you turn into the station.

When he sees your car, he stands and waves. You know there’s a grin behind his helmet.

The gas station is empty except for the convenience store worker. He looks at the vigilante suspiciously from inside.

You park at the station he’s at, turn off the car, and pull the lever that opens the gas tank. You climb out and smile at him, holding your card in one hand.

“Hi there, cutie. You come here often?” you tease.

He chuckles and swiftly pays for the gas before you can. You give him a disapproving look that he ignores.

“Only for you, princess,” he replies.

You put your card away as he takes the pump and untwists the tank’s cap.

“You don’t have to do that,” you say, feeling guilty again. You figured he’d come and watch the area, not actually pump your gas for you.

“I don’t mind,” he says. “You can sit back down and jus’ look pretty for me, baby.”

“That makes me sound like a spoiled brat,” you huff but do as you’re told, keeping the door open so you can converse.

Jason leans against your car as he fills your tank.

“Well, you’re only half right. You are spoiled, but that’s the way I like it.”

You shake your head at his reply, but there’s a smile on your face. Truthfully, it’s a little nice to not have to worry about anything—to just let Jason care for you.

Your eyes scan his tall form, taking in his armored-covered body and shiny helmet. You notice a few dark spots on his gloves and clothes that you figure are blood.

“It’s a little funny seeing the Red Hood pump my gas,” you quip as you grin at him.

“What can I say? I’m here to help the citizens of Gotham in any way,” he jokes.

“You have a busy night?” you ask, recalling the phone call from earlier.

“Nothin’ too extreme,” he replies.

When your tank is full, he returns the pump and twists the cap back on.

He moves in front of you, resting one hand on the car’s top while he leans down.

“If it weren’t for that goober watching us like a hawk, I’d give you a kiss,” he says.

“Only a kiss? I’d pull you in the back seat and have some fun,” you say with a flirty smile.

He laughs and lowers his head more. You’re so tempted to kiss him.

“We’ll have fun at home,” he says.

“You’re coming back with me?” you ask, eyes opening wider with hope.

He shakes his head. “Sorry, princess. I still need to go help Tim. I’ll be back soon though.”

“Define soon,” you reply with a slight pout.

Jason drops in a squat so he can take your hands; the act is hidden by your door.

“An hour or two?” he says. “But don’t wait up. It could be longer.”

You nod solemnly.

Jason squeezes your hands, thumbs rubbing your skin tenderly.

“Text me when you get home, ‘kay?” he asks.

“Okay,” you say.

Jason releases your hands to rub your thighs.

“Thank you for calling me,” he adds.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want my boyfriend upset with me,” you huff halfheartedly.

Jason squeezes your legs.

“Just want ya safe, doll.”

“I know,” you sigh and place your hands over his.

“I better get going,” he says and reluctantly begins to pull away.

You grab his hands to hold him close.

“Ya know, you might as well just kiss me. I think the worker knows you’re not just here to pump a random Gothamite’s gas.”

Jason chuckles and takes a peek at the window. The worker still looks on, but now with a confused face. When he notices Jason staring, he averts his gaze. Though, Jason knows it won’t last long.

“Fine,” he relents and leans down.

You grin, reaching out to cup his helmet as you kiss the cool material. Of course, it’s not the same as feeling his lips on yours, but the sentiment is felt.

“Love you,” you murmur as you pull away and drop your hands.

Jason sighs longingly. “Love you too, beautiful. See you at home.”

“See you,” you reply.

Jason ends up following you for a while for extra precaution before heading back to his patrol shift. He doesn’t come home for another three hours.

When he does, you’re on the brink of sleep. Still, you turn in his arms so you can snuggle your face against his chest.

“Missed you,” you mumble.

His chest vibrates as he laughs. “You saw me a few hours ago.”

“And what ‘bout it, Todd?” you huff.

He pulls you even closer and rests his head against yours. His body feels so nice. You wish you could stay in his arms for days.

“Nothin’, doll. I missed ya too,” he says in a deep, tired voice.

“Hmph! Thought so,” you reply and carefully lift your head to give him a triumphant smile.

Jason releases an amused puff of air.

“Get some sleep, silly,” he says.

“Kiss first,” you demand, puckering your lips dramatically.

Jason grins and angles his face to give you a tender smooch.

Your lips spread in a grin upon feeling him directly.

When he goes to pull away, you whine in protest and chase after him. You capture his mouth again before he can get too far.

Jason laughs into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. His hands trail up your sides to cup your face. His warmth spreads from your cheeks to your heart.

There’s a dopey, sleepy smile on your face when you pull away.

“God, I love you,” Jason says with the utmost sincerity that squeezes your heart.

“Not as much as I love you,” you sing-song, leaning down to peck his lips.

“Yeah, right,” he chuckles and moves his hands back to your sides. He slides them under your shirt to feel you directly.

Instead of arguing, you lean down to kiss him once more.

“You’re comfy,” you mumble.

He can’t stop the happiness that shows on his face at your words. He gently eases you down by pressing lightly on your upper back and says, “Good. I like you like this.”

He adjusts his head against his pillow and closes his eyes, arms holding your body to his like a teddy bear.

“I like being here,” you reply and lay your head on his chest. You love hearing the rhythm of his heart.

You feel him give your head a kiss before he gets settled. It’s not long before his breathing gets steadier, and his arms lax slightly around your body. As you join him in dreamland, you realize you’ll never feel safer than in his arms.

A/N: I have this for my other blog, so I wanted to share it here too: For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

#if this title doesnt make sense plz let me know LMAO #jason todd fanfic #jason todd #dc fanfic #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x yn #jason todd fluff #dc fluff #dcu fanfic #dcu fluff #dcu x reader #dc comics fanfiction #dc x reader #dcu x you #dc x you #dc x yn #dcu x yn

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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 1 month ago

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Imagine this

I've been reading some of this good fics about Yandere Batfam x neglected Reader and it got me thinking.

In some of this fic, usually it's Alfred that has given the reader some love and have not neglected the poor thing and I was like,

What if Reader is still neglected by the batfam but Alfred gave them enough love so much that reader just decided to stay just for Alfred and Reader really just treated Alfred as their real Father or Grandfather.

Where Reader just let go of any expectation from getting attention from the others and just strive to make Alfred proud and happy.

How the turns have table

Imagine reader walking pass the others not bothering to greet them as they look for Alfred instead and other stuff.

Dick seeing them practically skipping as they clutch on a medal hanging on their neck.

"Woah hey!-...um whatcha got-". He tries to say but doesn't get any answers because you were busy muttering to yourself 'I got first place! I have to show this to Alfred!' as you giggle while looking down at the medal and sprint away when you see a glimpse of the butler at the distance.

How instead of begging for the others to train you and become a vigilante, you ask Alfred to train you for self-defense (especially the stuff from his spy days).

Jason was the first to arrive at the manor when the team heard about some intruders getting in but halted when he sees you tying up the unconscious thugs on the floor.

"Hey Alfred is this right?". You didn't pay them any mind when some of them pile in as you pay attention to Alfred who was praising you and giving you more good defense tips while you and him pull the unconscious people out.

How you spend healthy family time with Alfred by helping him in cooking and chores that earns you some knowledge of the recipes from his famous dishes.

Tim was trying to grab a coffee when he sees you having a fun time with Alfred as you skillfully prepare for dinner and actually have good laughs with him.

"Okay, then after I fold this I should add some paprika, right?". You ask the butler as he smiles at you while sipping on the tea that you made for him.

"Yes, you're correct once again young miss/master". He said while humming after drinking the tea indicating how good it is.

Tim can practically see you lighting up as you cheered a 'yes!' from Alfred's confirmation.

How you revolved your time and passion to Alfred and actually deciding that only Alfred is the one you should waste your time on.

Damian wonders around the manor when you and him bump into one another.

"And what are YOU doing walking around MY Father's manor?". He asks while glaring at you.

you just sigh and turn while clutching away the art supplies you bought so you can paint in the garden with Alfred.

"Walking away from you that's what I'm doing". you tell him as you turn the other way not even bothering to argue with the boy anymore.

How you do well in your studies and aim to get a good degree/phd and act like a proper man/lady but not because you want to keep up to being a Wayne but to see Alfred's proud face as he watches you stand on the stage as you show him your diploma/degree certificate.

Bruce decided to take a walk from sitting down for too long when he walk pass a framed picture on the hallway near Alfred's room and double takes when he sees you and Alfred standing together with while you were wearing a toga and cap holding not just any graduation certificate but a college one as the both of you look so happy and him seeing Alfred having that loving and well pleased expression something he rarely sees from Alfred after becoming the crusading dark knight.

Looking at the date he couldn't believe that it has been more that a few years since the graduation happened.

All of the family who used to ignore you suddenly took a different turn and started to try and get your attention but they fail to see that you already moved on from them and only cared about the one person that have literally loved you from the beginning.

Bonus:

Imagine Thomas and Martha Wayne was mysteriously revived for a day and met the family but was deeply disappointed to the others and took a special liking to reader because Alfred has said many good things about them and them especially getting many good degrees something that the rest haven't gotten yet or never bothered to get (this is my hot take because my family are hellbent on us cousins to finish school) and you know for a fact that Alfred is really REALLY proud of the kid that he raised preciously

#x neglected reader #batfam x reader #yandere #yandere batfam

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whimsyvixen · 2 months ago

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𝕊𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 ~ 𝟙/?

Stalker Fic (original work)

Rating: 18+ Pairing: Female Reader x Male Yandere Synopsis/Excerpt: It felt like someone was looking at you. A predator looking at a fawn. Waiting for the right moment to sink its powerful jaws into its frail neck, and tear it apart. WARNINGS/TAGS: Dark fic, rape/noncon elements, extremely dubious consent, stalking, yandere, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, masturbation, captivity, non-consensual bondage, dacryphilia, forced breeding, forced orgasm, vaginal sex, fuck or die, tags will grow as this story progresses. ⚠️READ THE TAGS: Please be aware this work contains content that the reader may feel uncomfortable with or otherwise triggered by. DO NOT READ if bothered by tags . NO minors. ⚠️

A/N: Wooo! so I finally decided to make story for this post I made awhile back (a thousand thank you's to everyone who liked and commented <3 ). Please read up on the tags, so you know what to expect in the coming chapters. Happy reading!

-Dividers by @adornedwithlight-

It was raining outside, the distant thunder and pitter patter of raindrops hitting the window creating a lullaby that was lulling you to sleep. Combined with the soft rumbling of the bus, you could feel your body’s desperate need for rest after a grueling shift at work.

Familiar streets and roads were tracked by your eyes, the expected relief of almost getting home brightening up your mood despite the gloomy weather. You estimated that you'll reach your destination in less than half an hour, rummaging through your purse to take out your phone to set up a timer in case sleep overtakes you and you miss your stop.

Pressing the lever of your seat to recline, you got comfortable and laid your cardigan over your chest, finally giving in to the urge of closing your eyes. Seconds ticked by and all you could think about was how you couldn't wait to be in the comfort of the soft bedding on your mattress. Your muscles were practically begging for relief and you had enough pillows and blankets waiting for you back home to alleviate this problem.

It couldn't have been more than a few minutes that passed– your mind completely disassociating from reality while you snoozed– when your peace was shattered. A shiver of unease ran through you, waking up your consciousness abruptly and causing you to jolt awake.

The same feeling that’s been haunting you for weeks now was back.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood and your heart rate picked up.

It hadn’t always been like this. You could still remember a time when you climbed inside the vehicle without your gut twisting anxiously. At first, you chalked it up to it being caused by some low level of anxiety you were experiencing or lack of restful sleep. Something that could be easily remedied by swallowing a pill stashed inside a drawer back home.

However, as of late, a feeling of wariness and fear seemed to consume you, your fight or flight response triggered whenever you climbed up the stairs of the bus, each step weighing heavy on your legs as you went to take your seat.

It felt like someone was looking at you.

A predator looking at a fawn.

Waiting for the right moment to sink its powerful jaws into its frail neck, and tear it apart.

The paranoia getting to you, you turned your head to the right, swallowing down your nervousness as you tried to find the source of your panic.

There was a man seated in the opposite seats across from you. His stretched out and bulky frame took up much of the space, the black cap on his head and the mask he wore obscuring his features and giving him a mysterious vibe. The turtleneck shirt clung to him, emphasizing the broad muscles of his upper body even in his relaxed state. His back was to the window, his left leg bent in a careless fashion along both seats, facing you directly as he was browsing through his phone.

At least, you thought that's what he was doing. You didn't want to believe that the man was taking unwanted pictures or videos of you while you slept.

You didn't realize you were staring for too long, the stranger’s attention shifting away from his phone when he could feel your gaze, freezing you in place as your eyes connected with those dark depths. For some reason, you couldn’t look away, too afraid to blink as a chill took over you from being under the perusal of those piercing eyes. There was something wrong, you just couldn’t explain it. He tilted his head to the side, regarding your stunned state for a moment before his eyes crinkled with amusement. He waved good naturedly at you, a normal gesture of greeting that you would've returned if not for the twisting of your gut that warned you against doing such a thing.

When you didn’t return his gesture, the stranger’s eyebrows furrowed in dejection, bringing his hand down to lay against his lap almost disappointedly.

A good few seconds passed with both unwilling to look away from each other.

Your eyes, firm and guarded while his were inquisitive and curious.

As if finally sensing your unease, the stranger backed off by turning to sit properly in his seat and shifting his focus back to his phone.

Letting out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, you grabbed your purse and whipped out your phone, your shaky hands nearly dropping it when you first grabbed it. Turning the screen on, you realized you had taken a ten minute nap with seconds to spare from your alarm ringing. You were mere minutes away from arriving at your stop.

Taking a quick glance at the stranger once more, you tried to rid your paranoid thoughts that he was the reason for your being on edge these past few weeks. It couldn’t be, you tried reasoning to yourself. If anything, you were in the wrong for staring at him funny when you’ve never seen him before. Maybe this was his first ride on the bus and you made his experience weird because you kept looking at him as if accusing him of something heinous. Maybe he was just trying to be friendly and not spook you when you caught each other’s eye by accident. Maybe your groggy mind was making things up about a complete stranger.

Could the stress of work and your responsibilities piling up for the past few months be messing with your awareness? There was nothing special about you. You weren’t an important person. There was nothing, no gifted ability or priviledge, that separated you from the throngs of people you saw every day while heading to work. Why would someone want you with your bleak existence and no future aspirations?

Your anxiousness and worry slowly left you when you drew those conclusions about yourself, replaced with self pity as you realized you really had nothing going for your life. The somber expression staring back at you through your phone’s black screen only dimming your mood further.

It was a while before the bus slowed to a stop, the driver’s familiar voice announcing your destination and making you stand to walk to the front. Not paying attention to your footing, you tripped over your own feet and felt gravity pull you under. A small yip tumbled out of your lips, feeling pain on your left elbow from the hard impact on the floor. Your purse went flying in a comical fashion, your disoriented mind not sure in which direction it landed or if anything fell out of it.

Embarrassment quickly flooded you, feeling the eyes of other passengers stare at you and hearing a few snickers amongst them. Wincing from the blossoming pain in your arm, you had barely braced your hands on the floor ready to stand up, when you felt warm hands encircle your waist.

“Here,” a deep voice whispered against your ear. “Let me help you, sweetheart.”

You were lifted from the floor easily, your weight meaning nothing to the man as he held you gently until you got your bearings straight. You looked up at him, having to crane your neck upwards due to his tall height and seeing it was the masked stranger.

“I, uhm.. Thank you,” you stuttered over your words, a flush of heat blooming in your face at his proximity. You wanted to kick yourself for how high pitched your voice sounded, unable to maintain eye contact with him when he gazed so intently back at you. If you dared to say, it felt like he was trying to memorize every small detail about your face– birthmarks, the slope of your nose, shape of your lips, the emotion in your eyes. Realizing that you still held on to his arms wrapped around your waist, you nervously laughed before going to break yourself away from the intimate embrace.

“I’m okay now, you can let go,” you assured him, the fake smile plastered on your face concealing your tense disposition from his closeness.

You chose to ignore the way his fingers dug momentarily into your waist, gripping you a little too tight to be normal before he loosened his grasp, allowing you to generate a more respectable distance between you and him. Seeing your startled reaction to his handling of you, the stranger immediately apologized for his actions.

“You’ll have to forgive me for my forwardness.” He told you, imploring you with his eyes that he meant no harm. He bent down to pick up something on the floor, his other hand holding up the strap of your purse for you to take it. “I only wanted to make sure you wouldn’t trip over yourself again.”

“Oh! I-It’s ok really, I-,” your words were interrupted by the harsh voice of the driver telling you to hurry to the front if you planned to get out. You quickly snatched your purse back, ignoring the little jolt of electricity that zipped through you when you grazed his fingers. “Um, I have to go but thank you, again! Bye!”

You turned to walk briskly down the steps of the bus, thanking the bus driver for his patience and stepping out into the familiar streets of your neighborhood. Luckily for you, the rain had slowed to a soft drizzle, an umbrella not needed for the small trek you took to arrive at the apartment where you’ve been renting for the past year.

Locking the door behind you, you sighed audibly before throwing your purse at the chair nearest you. You walked over to your room, kicking off your shoes to land haphazardly along the floor because you were too tired to bother putting them away. Removing your damp clothing, you grabbed a towel and some night clothes to head to the shower.

Relaxing under the spray of lukewarm water, you found your mind straying to the stranger in the bus.

Who was he?

You weren’t lying that you had never seen him before. A man of his formidable size would have been easy to spot, sticking out from the rest of the passengers like a sore thumb. He was dressed peculiarly too, his attire giving off the impression that he values secrecy and privacy. And his voice! Goodness, you could feel yourself nearly melt remembering the richness of it. The way he held you like a dainty object didn’t escape your notice either, your cheeks aflame at how good his hands felt around your waist. The feminine thrill that his presence ignited was hard to subdue, unbidden thoughts of his hands squeezing and trailing over your naked body filling your mind.

Would his hands be soft and gentle? Or would they be strong and rough?

As if your hands had a mind of their own, they moved up your body to cup your breasts making you gasp at the contact. You looked down at your chest, seeing the peaks of your nipples hardening under your soft touch. You tried envisioning his hands squeezing the doughy flesh, your head tilting to one side as you wondered if he'd be satisfied with your size. Small moans escaped you as you continued to fondle yourself, closing your eyes and imagining him whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he teased your breasts. You were sure he’d trail a line of kisses down your neck, pressing his naked front against you so you could feel his excitement poking at the small of your back. A sudden hard pinch to your nipple brought you out of your fantasy, the thought of his cock causing your fingers to twist the sensitive tip excitedly.

You shook your head under the shower, trying to calm your racing thoughts before they got more explicit.

To think such things about a man you hardly knew wasn’t good. What if you see him again tomorrow? Could you bear to look at him knowing where your thoughts were straying at this moment?

You winced, memories of the loaded eye contact you threw his way making you want to smack yourself. Maybe you should apologize next time you see him. To prove to him that you weren’t a crazy lady that regularly gave the stink eye to neighboring passengers. Explain that your stress was getting to you. Perhaps be the first to wave at him next time to show there was no animosity between you. Maybe something could develop once you introduced each other, a giddy little voice tickled your ears.

Once you were done showering and drying your hair, you went back to the living room for your purse. You had placed your phone inside so the rain couldn’t wet it. You needed to wake up at a good time tomorrow to get ready for work so setting up an alarm was crucial. When you grabbed your purse, you noticed it felt lighter and looked down to see it was unzipped and wide open.

Oh No. There’s no way…

You dug your hand inside, hoping to feel the familiar mass of your phone only to come out empty handed. Then you remembered your fall from earlier.

“Damn it, it must have fallen off when I fell,” you cursed under your breath, gnawing on your fingernail in worry for a minute before sighing tiredly. You needed to sleep and staying up late thinking about your lost phone was not going to help. You’d have to wait until tomorrow morning to ask the driver if anything was found.

Turning off all the lights in your place, you finally headed to bed, a yawn leaving your mouth as you placed a knee in your mattress. Under the covers of your blanket, you tried clearing up your mind so you could sleep quickly. A sudden image of the masked stranger flashed through your head, your growing curiosity of him affecting you even in your most tired state.

Right before you slept, a nagging at the back of your mind told you to be wary of him.

A man lay on his bed alone, hair plastered to his forehead as he breathed harshly. His shirt was raised to his waist, exposing his naked pelvis and muscled thighs as he pumped his rigid dick at a furious tempo.

His choked groans and huffs were muffled by his mask, the man tilting his head back on his pillows to bask in the pleasurable sensations of his hand firmly stroking his length. Perspiration ran down every inch of him, the sweat dampening his bed and making him grunt at how his sheets clung to his heated skin. He slid his hand down his shaft– tightening his grip when he got to the base– hissing when it caused his cock to twitch before sliding it up once more to tease his cockhead and repeat the process. The squelch of the lubricant coating his dick was a decadent symphony next to his pleasured grunts, the aggressive handling of his pleasure nearly causing him to erupt as he continued to fuck his fist.

He was nearly there, half lidded eyes eyeing the drop of precum threatening to slide down his shaft and mix with the lubricant.

No, he didn’t want to cum so soon. Not without the image of the pretty bird he’d been stalking for the past month etched in his brain. God, she was so beautiful. Never had he seen a more perfect woman than you. His hands tightened remembering how soft and demure you were when he picked you up. The slight tremble in your body and your skittish behavior making him want to devour you where you stood.

Biting his lip, he slowed his pace and closed his eyes in concentration, conjuring up an image that would help to reach his climax.

In his mind, it was no longer his hand wrapped around his dick.

Instead, smaller hands were slowly stroking him in an almost reverent manner, seeming to worship every protruding vein and jerk of his member. A small gasp escaped you when cum drizzled out of his tip, smearing your fingers with the warm liquid to combine with the lube drenching his dick. He could feel the stickiness of it running down his thighs and balls, causing him to shudder at the sensation.

He could see you biting your lip anxiously, staring at him with those expressive eyes of yours waiting for his instruction. Unable to resist, he'd grab your hair and yank you his throbbing cock, your flushed face gasping at the heat emitting from his rod of meat pressed against your cheek. He hoped you were a smart girl, knowing what he desired from you as he slapped his dick on your lips.

He'd stare you down, arching an eyebrow as he waited for you to open that sweet mouth of yours. He knew he wasn't a small man–his girth was enough to intimidate even his most experienced past partners– but he was sure he could teach you how to swallow him down like a good girl.

You'd hesitate for too long, testing his patience. He’d need to be firm with you then. He'd pinch your nose between his fingers, blocking your airways and driving you to open your mouth to take a breath. It was all he needed to shove half of his cock inside your heated orifice. A guttural groan would echo in his room, the warmth of the hot cavern of your mouth and wiggling tongue on the underside of his dick making him see white for a second.

He could picture your muffled whimpering, your hands bracing against his thighs to pull away. He'd lift his upper body to get a better grip on your head, not allowing you to escape and forcing more of his dick down your throat. He'd praise you for being so good and lovely for him. Telling you to relax your throat, to make it easier for you. Before long, you'd obey his commands and start bobbing your head slowly to adjust to the fullness in your mouth.

He'd allow you to work at your own pace, content with seeing your tear ridden face for a few minutes more before taking over when you were going too slow for his liking. Your eyes would widen with alarm when he thrusted his hips up, a gargled whine vibrating through his manhood from the fierce jab in your throat. He’d repeat the same action again, a pleased groan rumbling out of him at the feel of your mouth struggling to accommodate him. From there on, he'd use you like a fleshlight, gripping your hair tightly to pull your face down to every one of his savage thrusts. Spittle and cum would rain down your jaw, messing your appearance as you gagged and moaned around the dick hammering your throat.

It was the fantasy of seeing you look up at him, eyes pinched with distress and tears streaming down your heated and sweaty face, that made him finally snap.

His hips jerked up in his hand, his body vibrating violently just as his cock shot out endless ropes of cum in the air. He grunted with each twitch of his pelvis, feeling the warm liquid pooling in the crevices of his contracting abs and staining his shirt. His chest heaved with exertion, the stranger breathing heavily as a result of cumming from his heightened lust. His mask hid his delirious smile, the stranger chuckling to himself at the euphoria he felt and the mess he created.

Only you could make him cum so strongly to drive him to lose himself.

Minutes passed until he was able to get his breathing under control, begrudgingly getting out of his bed to clean himself up.

Something about you had him hooked. What started off as a fleeting crush morphed into a distorted and unhealthy obsession, the stranger falling deeper in love with you every passing day, as well as the urge to take you growing exponentially worse. .

He longed to know what it felt like to have you in his arms, the thought keeping him up often at night.

Luckily for him, his wish finally came true tonight, remembering the softness of your body in his hands. You were a small little thing compared to him, barely reaching his chest. It wouldn't take much to overpower you, the statement giving rise to depraved thoughts of your squirming body underneath him, naked and helpless under his ardent touch. It took everything in him not to pull you closer, wanting to feel your delicious shape against his frame as the fantasy played in his head. He hated his mask at that moment, realizing he could've caught a whiff of your scent too if he wasn't keen on hiding his identity.

The stranger's eyes furrowed in displeasure at this, angry at himself for missing an opportunity to know you more intimately. Turning off the sink, he didn't bother to dry his hands when he ripped his mask off and flung it in the trash.

In a foul mood, he exited his bathroom and marched towards his study. It was already past midnight but there was something important he had to do before he slept.

Entering the room, he didn't bother to close the door and sat down, sliding the chair closer to his desk to get to work. He was inputting his PC’s password when he glanced at the rectangular object next to him.

It was your phone.

He inspected it, taking note of your phone cover and thinking it suited someone like you. He pressed the on button, seeing your phone screen light up and ask for the passcode to access it. He typed in a few guesses and not to his surprise, none worked.

No worries. This would only be a momentary issue. Nothing that he couldn't crack open once he plugged your device to his computer. Sure enough, within a few moments, all your browsing history and personal information was revealed to him. His eyes traveled greedily over all your files, desperate to know who you were and what you liked.

His impatience to claim you was nearing a tipping point. He already had a small taste of you and it was not enough. HIs hands clenched into fists. He wanted more. Desired to thoroughly possess you and infect you with his love.

One way or another, you were going to be his.

He would make sure of it.

#yandere #yandere male #obsessive yandere #stalker bf #cnc stalking #yandere male x reader #dark smut #dark content #darkfic #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw yandere #dark imagines #yandere oc

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kyuujo · 23 days ago

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↳ check yes or no

↳ sae itoshi x fem!reader ↳ sfw ↳ influencer!reader, established relationship, hidden(ish) relationship, going public, language, fluff + crack(?), jealous!sae, kissing on livestream, slight possessiveness, shat outta my ass ngl, my writing

↳ 1.3k words

↳ i’m sorry sae has me in a chokehold (i love it harder pls) and this little brain bug just randomly slid into my skull sooooo here it is! thank you all so much for reading and i hope you enjoy dahlings! <3

(y/u/n)fan1998: welcome back lovely!

switterz: good to see you again! hope ur feeling better!

emi44578: i missed you so much!

a smile pulled at your lips and your chest warmed at the multitude of messages flooding your livestream. your throat was still a little sore, but thankfully your stomach had stopped rolling the day prior, and you’d been fever free for twenty-four hours. you didn’t feel completely better, but you felt well enough to at least start a small stream.

“aw, thank you guys so much.” you croaked, voice slightly groggy and thick. “i’m feeling a bit better, but as you can probably hear, i’m not outta the woods yet.”

once more, messages flooded your screen, so fast that you could hardly catch more than a mere glimpse of one before it was pushed up by another. your fans seemed to be extremely pleased by your online appearance, and it made you so happy despite the sickness still weighing down your body.

you hated having to take time off, especially unexpectedly.

the chat slowed to a comfortable trickle as you dived into the events of the past week, starting off with how you even got sick in the first place. you had to tweak the truth a bit — after all, you couldn’t exactly tell your audience that you’d caught a cold by attending your boyfriend’s game alongside a snotty, congested child.

“… this kid was sneezing all over the place, and the mother didn’t even care to wipe his nose or the things he sneezed on. it was so gross.” you complained, receiving a fair share of agreements and sympathies from your viewers.

it was as you were berating the mothering skills of a complete stranger when something familiar caught your eye. a username followed by a simple message, one you’d seen time and time again.

(y/n)husband1: (y/n) will you go out with me? check yes or no

you forced out a small laugh and shook your head as you addressed the message. your skin felt tight suddenly, that username always putting you off just slightly.

“i’m afraid i’m going to have to check ‘no.’ i’m in a very happy relationship.” the same answer you gave every time.

there was a flurry of comments again, some berating the user who had even typed a message like that and others calling out cap on your statement. you were fairly used to that; you’d never even shown sae on camera before, so your relationship was as good as hearsay to your viewers.

“okay, let’s just calm down.” you chipped out, barely suppressing a cough that threatened to rip through your throat. “i’ll need to take some more medicine soon, so i don’t have very long. let’s do some q and a before i go.”

thirty minutes later and over two dozen questions answered, you finally said goodbye to your viewers and clicked off the livestream. your shoulders sagged with relief instantly, and you let out a small sigh.

“how’d it go?”

you startled at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts. sae’s voice was a smooth, seemingly uninterested rumble. you calmed your racing heart and hummed as you stood from your chair, raising your arms up to stretch out your stiff torso.

“not bad at all. they weren’t mad at me, at least.”

sae rolled his eyes as you ambled to his side, his arm immediately sliding around your hip as he guided you to the sitting quarters.

“so what if they were? the feelings and thoughts of insignificant strangers aren’t important.”

you clapped your palm over his chest gently and shushed him. sae was always blunt like this; but his words did remind you of something.

“oh. that reminds me. (y/n)husband1 struck again.”

you know you didn’t imagine the way sae’s fingers tightened on your hip. was it wrong that you took some pleasure in that? maybe.

“what did they say this time?” sae murmured a bit tightly.

you huffed and rolled your eyes. “the same thing they always say. ‘(y/n) will you go out with me? check yes or no.’”

“it’s incredible they don’t already have a girlfriend, what with that irresistible smooth talk.” sae quipped, pulling a giggle from your throat. you shook your head and wrapped your arm around his rib cage, stumbling slightly from the awkward position.

“let’s just go find a movie, baby.” you suggested, your statement quickly garnering sae’s agreement. cuddles late into the night were always your favorite; and you had a feeling they were sae’s too.

three days later, you were completely recovered and back to your usual streaming schedule. your viewers were quite happy with the development, and for the most part, it was smooth sailing.

well, except for the occasional whirlpool conjured by the appearance of (y/n)husband1. they seemed to strike when you least expected it, and always with the same stupid question — the same stupid question that earned the same stern answer.

even your viewers seemed to be becoming irate by it, as they expressed their distaste on multiple occasions.

switterz: why dont u just block them from your streams? they’re annoying!

(y/u/n)fan1998: yea they’re clogging up the chat log all the time! and harassing u!

you wet your lips and said, slightly timidly, “well, technically, they aren’t breaking any rules guys. the best thing to do is simply ignore them, like i do.”

a majority of the chat seemed to disagree, but you weren’t wrong in what you said; though they spammed the same message again and again, they technically weren’t breaking any of the rules you had set in place during your first few streams.

suddenly, as if on the drop of a hat, the chat began to flood with a different topic — one that seemed to have taken over the controversy of (y/n)husband1 entirely.

switterz: SAE FCKIN ITOSHI????

emi44578: why is sae itoshi in ur house?!!?!?????

jackerquack: WTF HELLO SAE

user193949294: DONT TELL ME YOUR BF IS SAE ITOSHI!!!!

usererror404: THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE THERES NO WAY

“what—?”

“i have to agree with the chat. you should block them.”

you swiveled around in your chair only to nearly touch noses with sae. your eyes widened and your lips popped open. what the hell was he doing? wasn’t his pr manager the one that insisted his relationship with you stay underwraps? just what was even happening?

there were hundreds of questions you wanted to ask, but in your pure shock you simply could work any past your lips; sae blinked once, then twice, before turning his eyes to the monitor in front of you.

“for those who have been wondering if she’s in a relationship, she is. with me. so no more harassment, or lying accusations.”

your heart was literally racing in your chest, your entire body frozen. sae was acting completely normal, as if he hadn’t just gone against every wish of his pr manager. you didn’t feel scared, per se, but the only emotion you could liken what you felt to was fear.

“demonking12 says they don’t believe it.” sae observed smoothly, eyes skimming down the chat. “and there’s some others who second that…”

you couldn’t even look at your screen — your eyes were glued to sae. how could he be so calm right now?!

sae turned to meet your stare of disbelief, and your stomach rolled when his lips quirked into the smallest, most mischievous smirk you’d ever seen grace his features.

“should we prove it?”

“um, what—?” you couldn’t even finish your blubbering before sae leaned in quickly and captured your lips with his — right in 4k!

the kiss wasn’t messy, or even sultry in nature, but it had your nerves lighting up and your cheeks flaring. sae’s lips were soft, warm, and almost commanding — it lasted a total of three seconds, but it was long enough to have your legs feeling weak.

sae pulled away but left just enough space between the two of you that you could see the sly swipe of his tongue across his bottom lip — as if he were collecting remnants of your taste.

“i’m pretty sure you’ve met your hour stream goal; time to entertain me, now.”

thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed! likes, comments and reblogs are by no means required but are so greatly appreciated! <33

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bluelock x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader

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chaptersleftunwritten · 3 months ago

Text

Pen Ink & Motor Oil

Blurb: Eddie has worked as a mechanic in Tucker’s busy garage for the past three and a half years and you have recently joined as the cute receptionist at the front desk. Based on this nonnie’s request!

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie x Receptionist!Reader

Warnings: Eddie is in his late 20’s, reader is in her early 20’s, swearing, pet names, smoking (cigarettes) , reader referred to as girl, Eddie has a filthy mouth and the reader likes it. Sexual tension, dom!Eddie, sloppy kisses, fingering, choking, public intimacy, 18+

“Would you like a cup of tea? Maybe some coffee?” Your hands rub together furiously, hoping the friction will heat the delicate surface of your skin. This morning played out like it always did between you and Eddie— you would advert your eyes away from his intense gaze and he would toy with the colour on your cheeks like a puppeteer.

“I’ll take a bottle of Pepsi if there’s one in the fridge? Please.” You couldn’t understand his willingness to drink such icy cold liquid when the mornings were already becoming so chilly. Especially in the garage, the freezing cement of the floor and the bare brick of the walls made heat easily escapable.

“You’re crazy,” Laughing you reach down into the small refrigerator behind your desk, plucking out a glass bottle filled with the sugary brown beverage and handing it to Eddie. He lets out what can only be described as a moan as he eyes the bottle in his hand with such admiration, his strong fingers twisting off the bottle cap with ease.

“Thanks, Cutie.” The metal head winks at you, his words leave his mouth with such charisma and fluidity that it makes your tired head buzz with excitement.

After a moment of ridiculous pause you finally clock back into reality, “That’s a cool party trick,” gesturing toward the bottle in Eddie’s manly hands he offers you a hum, smiling politely at you like he always does, “Doesn’t it hurt your hand?”

“Not really— I bet you could do it, if you tried.” He shrugs, his gigantic hand comes to clasp one of his breasts through the tarnished white fabric of his tank top, something you have recently realised he does a lot out of comfort and you can’t help the twitch of your fingertips as you long for the warmth of his soft inked skin against yours.

“Is there a lot booked in for today?” He leaves the bottle on the worktop, his creased boots scrape against the dusty floor as he inches toward your standing frame confidently. He peers over your shoulder, his strong nose is almost tickling the shell of your ear as he tries to read the schedule you had written up the shift before and your breath becomes trapped in the length of your throat at his close proximity.

Your thoughts are a scrambled mess as your nostrils fill with the brunettes intoxicating scent; subtle laundry detergent that smells like winter and clean linen, a fresh, almost minty, shampoo that radiates from his soft hair as it brushes your cheek and the smallest hint of cigarette smoke.

In your daze you blindly hadn’t acknowledged the fact that Eddie was basically bending you over the front desk. Your elbows were propped on the hard acrylic material, your ass perked up into the air and Eddie’s hulking frame was braced over you from behind, “Uhm…” You scream inwardly at yourself and your inability to form any sort of coherent sentence and thought.

“Uhm?” Eddie mocks, his voice deep and hushed. He lets out a small throaty laugh as his fingers dance over the neatly written page laid on the counter in front of you, “Can’t you read your own handwriting, Love?” Another sweet nickname that causes your legs to weaken.

He taps his fingertip on to the column that reads ‘Monday’ at the top of the grid and you can feel his wide grin against the back of your head, “Plenty of time for fun today.” Eddie purrs like a cat in your ear and your body involuntarily shivers at his breath against your neck.

“I’ll come check up on you in an hour or so, yeah? I think the first customer of the day will be arriving soon and I don’t wanna fuck this up.” It takes Eddie every ounce of self control he has to collar himself and retreat to the back of the garage where he can try and meet his deadline for the day. But in complete honesty, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

His chocolate button eyes constantly flicking from the internal organs of a car to the swinging door that separates you from him. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he had developed quite a fondness for you— a little crush, perhaps. You were the nicest girl Tucker had ever hired; above qualified and the most beautiful. You might’ve been the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Gorgeous smile, kind eyes and not to mention a smokin’ bod. You always had this incomparable aroma lingering around you— a perfume he had never smelt before. It was addicting. You were addicting.

Two hours had passed now and Eddie was getting restless. He had already repaired what was needed to the engine and the customer was scheduled to be here any second— he just wanted to chat with you again, to make you laugh and see your skin flush with each of his not-so-discreet compliments. He loved spending time with you. You were the reason he looked forward to coming into work each day.

“Hey, Eddie?” Your gentle voice sings through the room as you poke your head through the door into his space and Eddie bounces to his feet a little too eagerly, his hands toying with an old oil covered rag.

“Yeah? You okay?” His body is reacting before his brain can protest and he is springing over to meet you by the door like an excited puppy. A smile grows on his face with every step closer he gets to you and he watches you shift in your shiny heels with anticipation.

“I’m okay!” You confirm, the palm of your hand resting on the large door which allows a gust of fresh hair to meet Eddie’s now dirtied up face, “The customer is here to check out their car— would you like to come and speak with them before they sign anything?”

“Should be all good to go, Princess.” Eddie winks at you and his heart flutters boldly at the sight of your rosy cheeks. He could never get enough of you— he could stare at you forever, “Hey, after this guy leaves… you wanna come and grab some lunch with me? I usually go to this little place down the street. They have pretty decent sandwiches and stuff.” His hands come to find his hair as he ties it up into a low bun and a sly smirk finds his lips as he watches you watching him, “It’ll be my treat?” Clocking your silence he presses you further for an answer and you nod your head like a startled deer, your lips slightly pouted and parted in embarrassment.

“I would like that!” You squeak, your hands fumbling with your white dress shirt as you try to flatten out the new wrinkles, “So… I’ll go and ring this guy up. And… and I’ll meet you out front?” You gulp loudly, wincing at the sheer volume of it and Eddie grins at you evidently amused.

“Sounds great. Just gotta scrub my hands and I’ll see you out there, Pretty girl.”

Eddie watches as you disappear from his view, he even strains his neck to try and catch a final glimpse of your ass as he desperately fights to calm his raging heart.

He feels all giddy on the inside. Soft and gooey like a chocolate brownie; only you have been able to make him feel that way. Eddie had a few notches in his belt, he slept his way through high school with chicks who kept him a secret but you… you knew you would flaunt him like he was a rare jewel. The last 7 months of your employment made you realise how drawn you were to the metal head. Eddie was precious to you.

And today… today you were going to tell him.

You skip alongside Eddie, your heels dragging along the pavement. You always wanted to look presentable and professional for the business, but these heels were killing your feet.

“You alright there, Love?” Eddie chuckles, his eyes flicking between your arched feet and your pain stricken face.

“Hmm? Oh! Yeah— I’m fine! These shoes are just kicking my ass.” You stop for a moment, sighing a quick breath of relief as the pressure eases from your feet and Eddie comes to stand in front of you. His lips curve upward into a grin and his eyes glitch with mischief.

“I can carry you? And you can take the shoes off?” You watch the muscles in his arms flex as he crosses them over his meaty chest and your jaw loosens on its hinges for a moment.

He wanted to carry you?

“Don’t be silly! I can muscle through this! Women have been doing this for centuries.” You snort a laugh, attempting to walk by his massive physique but Eddie’s large hand takes a hold of yours and in one swift and fluid like motion he is carrying you in his arms toward the small sandwich shop that is just out of view at the end of the street.

“Eddie!” You squeal, half laughing and half horrified. Your cheeks are set alight as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck tightly, clutching onto him for dear life out of fear of falling.

“Relax, I’m not gonna drop you.” You had never been this close to him before. You could see every freckle on his nose, every stroke of black oil and grease on his cheeks, every sprinkle and burst of light amber in his usually abysmal black eyes. The thickness of his eyelashes and his eyebrows and the pink plumpness of his lips.

You could study him for hours. You could hang a portrait of him in an art gallery— and yet it would pale in comparison to the true thing. Eddie Munson was crafted carefully by Aphrodite herself. He was utter perfection. And you wanted to kiss him so bad.

“Like what you see, Princess?” He smirks at you devilishly, his dark hues shift every few seconds between your gawking expression and the footpath ahead.

“What if I did?” Bold. Even for you, and it was amusing to watch Eddie’s confident mask fumble.

“Then I would have to agree that I also like what I see…” He stops walking, his eyes solely focused on you now and you shift under his gaze— wiggling in Eddie’s buff arms.

“You do?” You can’t help that his confession catches you off guard. You knew Eddie enjoyed your presence, it was evident in the way he would always make excuses to come through to the front and talk to you. Eddie never usually had cause to be at the front desk unless it was to hand a customer their car keys back— but he always found a way to weasel his way through.

‘Have you got a pen I can borrow?’ There was always one tucked behind his ear.

‘Did I leave any tools through here? I’m missing my screwdriver…’ He had plenty to spare.

‘Do you need any help with anything?’ He was hopeless when it came to schedules.

‘Hey, is there any cold ones in the fridge today?’ He knew there was.

‘You got the time, Sweet girl?’ He wore a watch of his own.

He knew how to make you smile and he did it continuously every single day with his perky can-do attitude and his admirable personality. Eddie Munson checked all of your boyfriend boxes. He’s good with his hands, not afraid to get down and dirty, he is scarily strong and stupidly handsome. If it weren’t deemed inappropriate you would worship the ground his work boots walked on.

“Don’t act so surprised— I haven’t been so discreet with what I think of you, Sweetheart.” He was right, but you also couldn’t fully believe him. Eddie Munson thought you were attractive? It made you wanna laugh.

“Y’know… I’m not feeling too hungry anymore,” There’s a glint of desire that shimmers in Eddie’s dark eyes and you match his lustful enthusiasm, “What’d ya say we head back? I wanna… show you something…”

And by ‘show you something’ he meant that he wanted you to see the back of your skull as your eyes roll from the feeling of him pumping inside of you.

“Let’s go… let’s go now!” You don’t care how desperate you sound as Eddie turns on his heels and flees back toward Tucker’s. You are a giggling mess in Eddie’s arms and he chuckles warmly alongside you. You both have at least 10 minutes left of your lunch break as you burst back into the office and the next customer is due soon so this will have to be somewhat quick…

You wish you could pinch yourself to ensure you weren’t dreaming but your hands were too busy snaking through the thick fluffy curls of Eddie’s hair. It doesn’t take much effort for his wet tongue to dominate yours in a passionate and needy kiss.

His strong fingertips grip the soft flesh of your hips and his hands are like a powerful vice as he clings to you hungrily, “Can I touch you?” He asks between laboured breaths and you nod with a sweet hum. You can feel the swell of his cock pressing against you and you couldn’t think of anything you want more than to have his hands roaming your body.

“Fuck— you’re so fucking beautiful.” His thumb traces the line of your jaw, settling on your chin where he demands that your eyes meet his, “Wanna fuck you so bad, but I don’t think we have time today, Sweet girl.”

You pout out your bottom lip and Eddie chuckles darkly at the sight, “Think my fingers will do, hmm?” He cocks a brow, his rough finger tips dance up the length of your inner thigh before he is clasping his hand over the mound of your underwear. He sucks in a deep breath at the contact, struggling to control the raging storm of his hormones, “I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea.”

“Me too.” You gasp as Eddie’s fingers start rubbing tedious and teasing circles over your clothed clit, eliciting soft breathy moans from you.

“You’re gorgeous and your moans are pretty too— how lucky can a guy get?” You whine and swirl your hips down to meet Eddie’s movements, your body craving more of his touch and the filthy man doesn’t hesitate to slip his fingers past the lace of your panties.

Warm skin touching skin has your mind reeling with sin, “Getting impatient?” Eddie clicks his tongue, his free hand coming to curl around your neck. You welcome the action and your vision shifts as Eddie’s touch tightens on either side of your throat, “Tell me how good it feels, Baby.”

He punctuates his words by thrusting two of his long slender fingers inside of your aching slick hole and you release a dampened moan as your eyes flutter closed in ecstasy.

“Feels so good…” Your voice is a quiet whimper and Eddie shakes his head disapprovingly, his fingers curling inside of you and thrusting quicker and harder.

“Couldn’t hear you, Love…” His lips pepper kisses along your face until his mouth rests at the curve of your ear, “Speak up, Pretty girl.”

You feel as though you could cry at how good the tattooed brunette was making you feel. You hadn’t experienced anything quite like it before; all of this praise, the choking and the dominance. It felt good to let everything go— to give yourself to him.

“So good, Eddie! Feels so so good!” You’re a babbling, moaning mess beneath Eddie’s touch but you are beyond the point of caring as your euphoric release rushes toward you. Each skilled pump of Eddie’s decorated fingers leaves your walls clenching and your thighs quivering beneath you.

A wolfish growl rumbles deep within Eddie’s throat and he forces his knee between your thighs, leveraging you upright and keeping your back pressed against the brick wall.

“Gonna cum for me, Angel? Gonna cum around my fingers?” His pace quickens, if that were even possible and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your front teeth pierce your bottom lip, gnawing and nibbling at the plump skin like a desperate bunny.

You nod your head, but Eddie isn’t having any of it, “Words!” His fingers grab your face roughly and you open your lips in a pant, moaning greedily.

“Yes! Yes, I’m gonna cum! Please— fuck!” His chocolate eyes look fiercely into yours, dark and domineering; controlling.

Your orgasm shakes your body from the top to the bottom and you let out a noise that can only be described as a erotic scream and in a fit of slight panic Eddie pushes his hand flush against your mouth as you continue to ride out your high on his fingers.

“Shhh… gonna get us caught.” He offers you an egotistic toothy grin and your chest rises and falls with every intense breath you take in through your nose.

Eddie’s eyes flicker to the watch on his wrist, his eyebrows knitting in thought, “Looks like our lunch break is over…” He removes his hand slowly from your reddened and slightly swollen mouth, “Maybe we can continue this later…” a smirk never wavering from his face as he says, “Same time tomorrow, Princess?”

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll

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amathslutsguidetofandom · 9 days ago

Text

"I'm Taking That As A Yes, Princess"

PAIRINGS: Ghostface!FratPresident!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: Getting alcohol spilt on you, fingering, a bit angsty? (if you squint), semi-bathroom sex, swering, unprotected sex (darlings, please wrap your man's pig in a blanket), p in v, mentions of cum, handjob, a slight hint of a blowjob and slight fluff? (If I have missed anything, please feel free to let me know 😊)

WORD COUNT: 2,922

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

Walking into the house, you were immediately surrounded by sweaty, sticky bodies. You grimaced at the overwhelming feeling and tried to find a space where you could catch your breath. The kitchen was relatively empty, except for a couple making out on the counter. You decided to mind your own business, reaching into the fridge and navigating past cans and bottles of beer to grab a water bottle hidden at the back.

You twisted the cap off and took a long sip. Everyone was dressed up differently, which made sense—it was Halloween. Instead of babysitting your little cousins, you’d faked being sick to your parents, dressed up, and come to the Alpha Phi house. This wasn’t like you at all. The top student in your class, the teacher’s pet, the early-assignment submitter, the girl who became a TA in her junior year—you were the “good girl.”

So why were you here? Because you’d overheard some girls talking about the infamous Halloween party that the Alpha Phi guys threw every year. And you weren’t the type who usually went to parties. So why this one? Because you’d heard that Steve Rogers was going to show up, and you had a little crush on the star player of the varsity ice hockey team. You’d been trying to muster the courage to talk to him ever since you sat next to him in a lab in your first year. That was two years ago, and you’d been harbouring feelings for him ever since.

Your heart did a little flip every time he smiled at you when you passed him in the halls. Finishing your water, you threw the bottle in the recycling bin and tugged your tutu down to avoid a wedgie. The ballerina costume was a last-minute, twenty-dollar buy, but you were happy with it—the corseted top accentuated your chest, and though the sheer tights were a bit snug, it didn’t bother you too much.

You were making your way through the crowd and spotted a tuft of blond hair. Your heart flipped again. This was it, the perfect moment. You were going to ask Steve if he wanted to go out sometime. He was tipsy enough to say yes, and if he said no, he’d be too focused on his hangover tomorrow to remember your question. You took a deep breath and started toward him.

Then you saw them. You’d thought the rumours weren’t true, that they couldn’t be real. But the sight of Steve Rogers making out with Peggy Carter would be forever etched in your mind, because the pain in your heart was unbearable. You stood frozen, your heart thudding in your chest as you watched Steve's hands roam over Peggy’s body. You clenched your jaw and sniffled, rooted to the spot.

You only snapped out of it when someone spilled their drink on you. “Damn, sorry, gorgeous,” a guy dressed as Fred from Scooby-Doo winked at you drunkenly before chuckling and moving away. You shook your head, trying to clean the alcohol off your costume.

“Hey, buddy. I think you owe the girl a real apology,” another voice piped up. You looked up to see a towering figure dressed as Ghostface, holding Fred by the shoulder. “Now, say you’re sorry—like you really mean it, and none of that half-assed stuff because you’re shitfaced,” Ghostface ordered, crossing his arms. Fred straightened up, looked you in the eye, and apologized sincerely. Ghostface nodded approvingly and sent him away.

Before you realized it, Ghostface had moved closer to you. You turned to see him looking you over, his mask bobbing as if inspecting your costume. He clicked his tongue and put a hand on the small of your back. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You both walked upstairs, where the sounds of the party gradually faded, and you were grateful for the quiet. You hesitated when he opened a door and gestured for you to go in.

For the first time that night, you spoke up. “Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who you are.”

The chuckle that followed freaked you out a little, but then he reached up to remove the mask.

James. Freaking. Barnes.

You tried your best to mask your surprise, but you were sure he saw it, because the corners of his lips lifted into a smirk.

James “Bucky” Barnes—the captain of the varsity ice hockey team, a good student, a charmer, the president of Alpha Phi, and most importantly, the best friend of Steve Rogers.

You’ve met James a few times here and there. During some of the varsity games. And passed him in the dorms sometimes. He never caused you any trouble. He even offered to help you move-in in your second year when he clearly saw you struggle push your luggage up the stairs.

You were just acquaintances.

You swallowed and timidly walked into the pristine room, surprised by its immaculate condition. “I certainly didn’t expect a frat president to have such a clean room,” you muttered, hearing James laugh at your comment as he closed the door.

“Well, I don’t work well in a messy environment,” he shrugged and walked closer, his gaze trailing over your corset. You backed up slightly at the intensity of his approach, making him huff a laugh. “I don’t bite, princess,” he said, his fingers grazing the edge of your corset.

He gently guided you to the adjoining bathroom. “I’ll have to wash it out a bit. So, if you don’t mind getting your tutu a little damp, princess…,” he led, waiting for your response. You shook your head, signalling it was fine. He nodded toward the counter, and you hopped onto it.

He wetted a towel and began dabbing it on your clothes. “So, what’s a timid thing like you doing at a fraternity party?” he whispered, his focus on cleaning up the stain. You glanced at his concentrated face before looking away. “What? Can’t a girl come to a party?” you replied, defensively, for some reason.

James chuckled, “Oh, a girl can come to a party. But you, you’re not that type of girl, princess.” You raised an eyebrow at him, puzzled by his statement. “I mean, you never come to parties in general. So why the sudden appearance?” He sighed and caged you between his arms.

You tensed, starting to stammer. “Well, I wanted to see someone,” you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

“Yeah?” James asked, his gaze piercing. “Who was the special guy?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, then quickly looked away. He used two fingers to tilt your face toward him. “Eyes on me, princess,” he said softly.

“Steve. I came to ask Steve out…,” you admitted, spilling your secret.

James looked at you with you look, you couldn’t decipher what it was. But you didn’t know what to feel about it. He looked into your eyes for so long, you started to tear up due to the lack of blinking.

“Steve…,” he dragged it, and it made you wonder why. But you didn’t question it.

He continued to dab the wet cloth to your clothes. “You didn’t have to do that you know… The, um, asking the guy to apologize to me,” you broke the silence, because you couldn’t take the stuffy air that was in between the both of you.

James shook his head and chuckled as he dabbed on your neckline. “If I didn’t my Ma would scold my ear off if she knew. And, besides, a pretty girl needs to be treated right.”

You’re breathing stops at that, and you looked up at him with a confused look. He smirked at your expression, “what?” You shook you head and asked him, “you think I’m pretty?”

James scoffed and nodded, “I would have to be blind if I didn’t think your stunning, princess.”

You didn’t realise but your lips and James’ were a hair breadths away. “James…,” you tried to start but James beat you to it, “Bucky, princess. Call me Bucky.”

You gulped and nodded.

“Bucky.”

He groaned at they way his named sounded on your tongue. “Princess, your killin’ me here,” he whispered more to himself than at you. His knuckles gripped onto the counter tight. “Please…,” he muttered.

“Pardon?” you didn’t catch what he said.

“Please let me kiss you.”

You froze, you didn’t know what to do.

You always thought Bucky was hot. Hotter than Steve, but you never had any classes with him to fully judge him. You were a hundred percent sure that if Bucky was your lab partner instead of Steve, you’d totally be crushing on Bucky instead.

And if that were the case, you’d be nodding your head like a mad man. Steve was taken, you were still recovering from that. Bucky, apparently, liked you. Liked you more than you thought he did.

You saw the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to you lips and back to your eyes. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and saw his pupils dilate at the movement.

“I-,” you started but your thoughts were washed away when you saw Bucky lick his lips too. You heart thuds in your chest as you feel like the whole world is dark and the spotlight is just on you with the way Bucky looks like you. There’s a small part of you that wanted to feel how his lips would feel against you.

So, you nodded.

Before you knew it, Bucky was standing between your legs and gripping your hips. He then pulled you close and smashed his lips on yours. You took a second to understand what was going on, but when your conscious did come back to you cupped his face and kissed him back.

He licked at your bottom lip asking your permission to open up your mouth and you allowed it immediately. Soon your tongues were dancing together, yours was meek and shy letting Bucky do all the taking over. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whimpers against his mouth, which just made him groan against you.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access, and the more you let him the more your whimpers turn to moans.

He moves his hands all over your body, “this okay, princess?” He whispered against your skin, and you nodded fervently and grasped at his black cloak. You felt him palm at your chest, and you sighed and whispered a, “more, Bucky, please.” He nodded against your skin and moved his hands up your thighs and squeezes the flesh of your thighs.

You felt the heat pool between your things and squeezed them together. Bucky smirked and pushed them away, “nuh uh, none o’ that.” He got closer to you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips and chuckled. His hands moved to your inner thighs, and you gasped out, the wetness pooling more into your underwear.

You felt his knuckles brushed against your core and you whimpered and dropped your head against his shoulder. “Please, Bucky,” you muttered against his costume. Without any other word he ripped your tights at the centre and felt the wet path of white cotton.

“Oh princess, so wet f’me already?” Bucky snickered and you nodded at his question. He rubbed his knuckles against your cunt’s lips and pressed his fingers harder when he heard your soft mewl. “You like it don’t you, princess?” To which you nodded again and whispered his name breathlessly.

He pushed your underwear aside and sunk his thick fingers in, and you whined at the intrusion. The sweet stretch felt better than your own meek fingers and soon Bucky was pumping his fingers in and out making your legs shake. “I’m not even rubbing your clit, princess. Your legs are already shaking,” he whispered roughly against your ear.

His thumb started to rub at your clit and that’s when you lost your mind. You mewled and moaned his name as his fingers were rubbing that deep spot in you and his thumb playing with your button has you becoming a wailing mess. He bends down and started to attack your neck. “Fuck, Bucky. Please,” you cried out as you feel your impending orgasm start to build at your core.

Bucky roughly rubbed at your clit and within seconds your gushed around his fingers. You sighed and untensed your shoulders. Bucky brought his fingers to his mouth, closed his eyes and licked them clean. You whimpered at the sight.

You both leaned in and captured the other in a deep kiss, Bucky picked you up like you weighed nothing and exited the bathroom and walked until he placed you down on his bed.

He pulled the Ghostface mask down and leaned to tower over you. You bit your lip, and he chuckled, “didn’t know princess was a bit freaky, hmm?” He unbuckled his belt under the cloak, and you took off your tutu and tossed it somewhere in his room.

When he managed to get his cock out of his pants, your eyes widened as the sheer size of him and then looked at him to see the small smirk that was painted on his lips. “Something wrong, princess?” You gulped and said, “it’s not gonna fit.”

Bucky chuckled and leaned over you once more and whispered into your ear, “we’ll make it fit, princess.” The tone he used made you shiver, and you gripped onto his shoulders and readied yourself. Bucky ran his shaft up and down you’re sit and you whined desperately.

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back. He tapped your cheek with two fingers and said, “eyes on me, princess.” And with that Bucky slowly pushed inside you. The stretch was so deliciously sweet and painful it made you lose your mind. You both gasped at the feeling of him moving further into you.

“Fuck, princess. You’re so tight,” he grits out as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your nails raked down his back and he let out a deep moan which made goosebumps raise on your skin.

The sound of skin slapping on skin wasn’t’ as loud as your wails of Bucky’s name and moans. When the tip of him tapped against that spot in you, your eyes rolled to the back of your mind and you squealed, “Bucky right there, oh! Right there!”

Bucky grabbed a hold of the headboard and thrusted harder into you, aiming at that same spot and you felt tears run down the side of face in pleasure. “Fuck, princess. Gripping me like a vice,” he purses his lips as he knocked his hips against yours.

You felt the sheer length of him move in and out of you, your walls embraced him like he was meant to be there in the first place. “Attagirl. Take what I give you, yeah?” He huffed against your ear. The coarse patch of pubic hair that rested at the bottom of his happy trail, rubbed against your clit giving your that nice friction and it made you whine even more.

He pressed a hand against your abdomen and pressed down harder and it made the feeling even better. He saw how you reacted and pressed down harder, and you arched your back at the feeling. With that you felt the climax in you start to rise, “Bucky, I’m so close.” You whimpered as you watched the man wearing the Ghostface mask rut into you expertly.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and rutted into your harder, the band at your core bends and bends until it finally snapped and soon you were coming around Bucky’s cock.

Bucky groaned deeply at you squeezing him tightly, he pulled out and you whined at the loss of the feeling. He was fisting his length at the sight of you post orgasmic bliss and it looked so hot from your perspective. You quickly got on your knees and replaced Bucky’s hand with yours. “Fucking hell, princess,” he ran a hand through your hair and bunched it up at the back of your head. “That’s it, making me feel so good,” he sighed and threw his head back.

He groaned when you parted your lips, the mushroom head of his member inches away from your mouth. He tipped his head back, “fuck I’m so close.” And soon you felt his warm spent spill down your throat. Bucky moaned at the sight, and his chest reverberated deeply when he saw you swallow.

He pushed you down to lay on your back again and he then he laid next to you. You reached up and took of his Ghostface mask so you can his face. “That desperate to see my face? Hmm?” He smirked at your action. You shook your head and chuckled shyly, “maybe.”

Bucky reached up and caressed your face. “You know you’re really pretty right, princess?” You blushed at his comment, “buy me dinner first, Barnes.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded, “are you free this weekend?”

You froze, “you can’t be serious.”

“Well, I kinda am.”

“You are a piece of work James Barnes,”

“Should I take that as a, yes?”

You chuckled and shook your head; you gave him a soft smile.

“I’m taking that as a yes, princess.”

🎀🎀🎀

A fic posted during the midst of exam period?!

I would like to thank @buck-star for helping me with coming up with this idea!

This took a while and it's ALOT, but late night productivity hit me like a freight train haha.

I've one more exam in the next week and I'll be done!

Hope you lovelies liked this!

Lemme know what y'all think of the fic!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

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solardrop · 4 months ago

Text

silver.

aaron hotchner x reader.

summary: hotch really doesn't think getting old is sexy. tags: fluff. a suggestive line here or there but nothing crazy. age gap (reader in their 30s, hotch is 57). jack mentioned. i think this could be read as gn!reader but i could be wrong. just short and cute. word count: 1.0k a/n: last fics rules still apply. be nice to me! when i look up photos of hair dying on pinterest i get rainbow haired e-boys so accept this haircut photo <3 divider creds to @/cafekitsune

Your name echoes across the house when Aaron yells for you from the bathroom. Once you enter the space you're greeted by his hair spiked in every which way, covered in a brownish-black goop. His thick hands are gloved and hold a small black toothbrush-like applicator.

"Sweetheart, can you check if I missed a spot?" Aaron hands you the brush and tray of inky black dye. You make a show of rolling your eyes and pouting back at him in the mirror and you take the items from him.

"I forgot it was that time of month that you decided to cover up all your sexy.." you sigh.

"Really," he scoffs, a teasing smile creeping on his lips, "I thought all the sexy was gone when I shaved.'

You almost teared up remembering the loss of his beard. A case off the grid forced him to grow one out for a few weeks. You understandably jumped his bones upon seeing the new look when he returned. The extra hair provided some out-of-this-world sensations for your softest parts that you would never forget. Only for the wicked man to shave all of it after two days, citing the "professional dress code" of the FBI as the culprit.

You snap a latex glove onto your hand, "Shush and bend over, big guy."

He smiles and kneels to face you, his rough hands gripping the fat of your thighs. You slowly worked around his head, dabbing bits of dye in bare spots. Your fingers rake through the inky black mass on his head, gently massaging his scalp. Aaron hums and thanks you under his breath.

"Do you know why I started dying my hair so consistently?"

"To torture me?"

"No," he huffs," when Jack was about... eight? I had taken him on this trip with a couple of his friends and their fathers, it was fun, but at the end of the whole thing Jack pointed at the grays starting to grow out on my hairline and turned to his friends and said-"

"Baby no...."

"'Guys look! My daddy is sooo old!'"

You clamp your lips shut to hold in your laughter. You didn't want to embarrass him further, especially with the deep red flush rising up the nape of his neck.

"Oh honey Jack was still a baby then... kids are insane you know that"

" I do, and I know. I laughed it off. I know he didn't really mean anything by it, but I didn't know if he felt like the odd one out for having an old dad.." Aaron runs his hands up and down your legs mindlessly. "And now I don't want you to feel out of place either."

You pause at that. In the few years you and Hotch have been together, never has he shown any insecurity about the difference in age between you. And he sure as hell wasn't about to start now if you had anything to do with it. You slicked his hair back with your hands and placed the clear complimentary shower cap in the box on his head, snickering at how silly he looked. Once you slide the slimy gloves off you set the timer on your phone and grasp the face of the man you loved so dearly, forcing him to rest his chin on your stomach and look into your eyes.

"You have less than thirty minutes to explain to me why you think I'd care about you looking old"

"you're young-"

"I'm in my thirties-"

"you're younger," he corrects "than me by quite a bit. All your friends have other young people to share their life and first experiences with. Meanwhile, you're stuck with a sixty-year-old-"

"You're fifty-seven-" Your eyes roll.

"a fifty-seven-year-old with a sassy kid turned angsty teenager for a child." he sighs, "Sweetheart I just don't want you to ever look at me and feel a loss."

You take a moment to scan his face. Despite the stupid shower cap mushrooming around his head, his face showed no amusement when he spoke. The sweet, shy smile he always sported around you was gone, replaced with a grimace and furrowed brow.

"Aaron I have never felt more loved, accepted, and safe than I have with you. I know you know that," you say.

He nods, pressing a quick peck to your belly button before looking at you. His eyes search yours for a moment of hesitation or change in resolve. but you stand your ground.

"The only thing I worry about with you on my arm is fighting off all the homewreckers."

He wheezes a laugh at this. Eventually having to stand up before he smears the dark dye all over you. He always does this. Laughs and acts like he wouldn't have crowds of people stop to fawn over his beauty if he let them.

"Remember that neighbor at the old apartment who would only stop by with cookies when she knew you were home?"

"Or the time Jack's classmate profiled their teacher's crush on you?"

"Don't even get me started on that detective JJ keeps telling me about from years ago in New Mexico. The male detective."

He smiles at you sheepishly, "You've made your point."

"If you want to dye your hair or shave to make yourself happy I think you should," you whisper, "but Aar I love every version of you possible"

You press your lips to his cheek before you continue, "You are the most beautiful, devastatingly sexy old man out. And I will still throw myself at you in public if you decide to finally ditch the box dye."

He smiles at you fully now, eyes shining as he looks down at you. He slides his lips against yours, grinning into the kiss before he pulls away to thank you.

"Maybe after this starts to grow out I'll see how I feel about the silver again." He looks back at his reflection in the mirror. He turns his head every which way to peek at the processing strands under the shower cap.

"Think about the beard too damn it.." you mumble. You begin to wander out of the bathroom when he yells for you again.

"Oh and sweetheart one more thing," you turn to look at him, confused when he stifles a laugh, "will you still think I'm sexy if I start balding like my father?"

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #aaron hotch x reader #mine

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pellucid-constellations · 1 year ago

Text

Faking It

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was in love with his girl—disgustingly, annoyingly so. Enough to start fights on the ice just to make sure he saw her after a game.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: This is FLUFF!! With HOCKEY MAN

a/n: This was originally something completely different but then I hated it so now it's all fluff and now I do not hate it. Pleaseeeee let me know what you think and if you enjoy it!! I love you thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist

“Jesus Christ, Buck. Again?”

Bucky grinned, split lip tightening uncomfortably. When he turned to his captain, he had the gall to act oblivious. “What do you mean, captain?”

Steve gave him a disapproving look. “Give it up, pal. There was no need to pick a fight with that guy and you know it.”

“He was talking shit about the team!”

“They’ll always be a player talking shit about the team.”

“Then why’re you breathing down my neck right now, huh? We won. Be happy, Cap,” Bucky encouraged, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Steve raised a brow back at him but was clearly fighting back a smirk. Bucky could tell by the way his eyes lifted, contrasting his deep—albeit fake—frown.

In truth, Bucky had been looking for a fight. He’d been looking for a plethora of fights since the start of the season, and was usually quite successful with his venture. It had garnered him quite the reputation, but where the crowd saw it as a short-fuse on a large man, Steve saw it for what it really was.

An opportunity to see you.

And while Steve could appreciate the dedication, it made one of his best players ride out unnecessary time in the penalty box.

“I am happy. Just not with you,” Steve clarified, knocking Bucky’s arm away.

Bucky let out a sound close to a scoff. “Even with my extra time in the sin bin I still helped carry. It’s just part of the game, Steve. Gotta protect the team’s pride.”

“Yeah,” Steve drawled sarcastically, stopping in front of the locker room doors. “I’m sure that was your reasoning. What was it last game? Someone said something about your ma?”

“Hey, he did.”

“They always do.”

Heavy footsteps created a commotion in the hall, the rest of the team finally catching up with the pair. They funneled their way into the room for showers and a fresh change of clothes, and Steve stood with his crossed arms leaning against the wall, somehow still directing an admonishing look towards Bucky amidst the crowd. Bucky did his best to look baffled by the unspoken accusation, but then Sam Wilson passed by and Bucky’s ploy was disintegrated.

“Hey man,” Sam greeted, slapping a friendly hand against Bucky’s arm as he passed. “You let someone beat the shit out of you again so you could go see your girl?”

Bucky’s scoff returned, but this time Steve was having none of it. He kicked off of the wall and went to follow the rest of the team into the locker room. Bucky watched with a grimace, not only caught, but put on display.

“You know,” Steve called over his shoulder, not expecting Bucky to follow. “You’re dating the girl now. You don’t gotta keep up with this whole schtick.”

“I don’t have a schtick,” he called back. At the responding laugh from Steve, Bucky yelled, “I don’t!” but no one was listening to him. Or believing him.

But fine. If his schtick involved you, in any capacity, Bucky would admit to having one.

Some of what Steve said was right. Bucky was dating you now. You were his girl and that would imply total access to you all the time, whenever he wanted. He didn’t need to pick fights or feign injuries anymore (the latter never really worked anyways), because he had a key to your apartment. And you were in his bed more weekends than not.

But, damn, were you busy right now.

Bucky had never really considered how much schooling went into becoming a physical therapist until he met you. You were typically swamped with papers and tests and requests from Dr. Cho, but this past month had been exponentially worse thanks to finals. He had seen you about once a week if he was lucky, and that was a generous estimation. Add your crazy schedule to the alarming amount of away games he had over the past few weeks and he was champing at the bit to see you.

Bucky just prayed it was you in the training room today and not Dr. Cho. His odds were pretty favorable considering the team’s main trainer didn’t usually stick around after games if there were no major injuries, but there was always the off chance she let her interns go home early. But, knowing you, you would be in that room until the rink lights went off.

God, he loved you. Every overworked, high-strung bit of you.

He even loved the scolding look you shot him as he pushed open the training room doors, his bruises and cuts on full display. You dropped the pen you were tapping against an overflowing notebook and rocketed out of your rolling stool, and Bucky adored the way you stomped over to him, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the curse you clearly wanted to let free.

“Hey, baby,” Bucky smiled, this time ignoring the sting in his lip. “Funny seeing you here.”

You huffed, bringing careful fingers up to his chin. “Not very funny,” you mumbled. “Not when you look like someone hit you with their car.”

Bucky let you fuss for a moment, following your touch as you turned his head back and forth and examined his split knuckles. This was your job, so obviously he let you do it, but he enjoyed watching you. So he didn’t stop you from lifting his jersey up to inspect his middle, because how else would he catch the cute way you scrunch your nose up in concentration? If he pulled his hands away when you started testing the range of motion in his wrists, when else would he be able to track your lips as you softly counted and mouthed gentle confirmations?

Never. Because you were so damn busy.

“Missed you,” Bucky said after sneaking a kiss on your forehead while you were prodding at the bruise on his collarbone. “I’ve been missing you a lot.”

You let a small smile interrupt the disgruntlement on your face. Bucky grinned at the change, pressing another kiss to your hair while he still could.

“Did you miss me enough to send a right hook into that guy’s jaw?”

“Yes.”

Your smile was gone again. Now you looked aghast. “Bucky.”

“What?” he exclaimed, sliding his torn hands from your healing ones to wrap you in his embrace. “You want me to lie instead? Okay, fine. No, sweetheart, I didn’t start a fight just to have an excuse to see you. That guy got all these punches in on me because I’m out of practice, is all. I don’t think about you every waking second of my life, and while we’re at it, no I did not use your shampoo this morning because I miss how—”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, resting your forehead on the divot in his chest. “I get it. Thanks for being truthful.”

Bucky relished in the feel of you. He had been slightly worried that his state would cause you to be more upset than anything. If you weren’t so tired right now, there was a high chance you’d be yelling at him because of his recklessness instead of resting against his chest. So Bucky jumped at the opportunity, trailing one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. He craned his neck down, burying his face into the juncture of your neck.

He hadn’t been lying about the shampoo.

“I miss you too. Even if you act like an idiot sometimes,” you mumbled against his jersey.

Something in Bucky felt lighter, warm. “Acting like an idiot’s the only way I get to see my girl.”

You hummed. “Sorry ‘m so busy.”

You had to be exhausted. Not even a single reprimand had tumbled from your mouth. Bucky had expected at least three.

“When’s the last time you slept, baby?” Bucky kept his voice low, his thumb making unconscious circles against your hair.

“I don’t know. In the night.”

“Okay, thanks smart ass.” Bucky jostled you a bit until your eyes met his. “I meant when did you last take a break? Get a good night’s sleep?”

You sighed, gaze trailing over his face. “Let me fix you up. Then we can play twenty questions.”

“Baby—”

“No, Buck, this is the training room, if you haven’t noticed,” you quipped, stepping back and rifling through a few drawers. “Take a seat and I’ll fix you. That’s my job.”

“Well, what about my job?” he grumbled back.

“You have failed at your job. Your job is hockey and you instead played human punching bag.”

“Not that job. My other job. The one where I take care of you.”

You spun on your heel, a basket of supplies resting on your hip. The sweater that engulfed your frame had the university’s logo stamped across the front, but instead of jeans or slacks—the usual uniform for PT interns—you wore leggings. Your hair was pulled back in the most endearing, pretty mess, and Bucky’s chest hurt as he looked at you.

“My tired girl,” he hummed, bringing his hand up to your cheek as you pushed him down on the exam chair. He sat if only to appease you, his feet still flat on the floor even with the tall seat.

“I’m only a little tired,” you weakly fought. Bucky chuckled in response, sanitary paper crinkling beneath him. “Now let me clean you up.”

You snapped gloves onto your hands and Bucky fought back a petulant whine. If he had been any other member of the team, those gloves would have been on the second they walked in the door. He should be grateful, then, that you only put them on when it was time to tend to his wounds, but he wasn’t. He missed you too much to feel latex instead of your skin.

Bucky’s lip stung as you cleaned it, but he hardly flinched. If he moved, he would miss the pretty way you bit into your lip as you stared at him.

“Remember when I’d be in here all the time?” he asked when you turned back down to grab antibiotic cream.

You let out a tired laugh. “How could I forget? You picked a fight every game. If that didn't work you’d come stumbling in here complaining about a torn ACL or whatever. Big liar.”

“I wouldn’t call it lying.”

The smile you gave him was replicated on his own face.

“You were literally lying.” You dabbed the cream on his lip, and then moved to the cut on his cheek. “You would come limping in here and then I’d see you an hour later running out to the parking lot.”

“You wouldn’t look at me if I wasn’t injured.”

“It was my job, Bucky!” you laughed, eyes giving away your amusement. “I wasn’t supposed to be fraternizing with the players. I’m pretty sure Cho only lets us be together because you wouldn’t leave her alone otherwise.”

Bucky moved his hands from his thighs to your waist, tugging you closer as you worked. “Hey, sometimes drastic measures are needed.”

“You called her multiple times a day… bought her an edible arrangement. Wait, didn’t you offer to drive her kids to school a few times?”

“It worked, didn’t it,” he posed, nudging his nose against your cheek. You giggled, lightly slapping his arm to get away.

“The edible arrangement was a good touch,” you relented.

Bucky released you as you wiggled from his grip, flitting around the training room to put supplies back. He spotted your backpack in the corner of the room, unzipped with the water bottle tipping out. When you sat down at the computer to document his care, which he found a bit ridiculous (you only put a bandaid on his face), Bucky walked over and gathered your things. He did so slowly so you wouldn’t notice; you probably had plans to stay at the rink for another few hours, and that was not okay with him.

With a final zip and your water bottle now standing upright, Bucky meandered over to your seated position. He hooked his chin over your shoulder as you worked, leaning over and tapping your phone screen for the time. His heart twisted warmly in his chest when he saw a picture of himself smiling under the 8:00 pm displayed on the homescreen.

After all the pining and work it took to get you, Bucky often felt this wasn’t real.

God, he loved you.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” you whispered, clicking away at the computer. “I still have some charting to do. Peter hit his head yesterday and I have to do the follow up work.”

Still in his uniform, Bucky wrapped you up from behind. Now you would both need a shower and he could get you to leave. He kissed the back of your head, and then your temple, and then your cheek as he craned his neck to watch you work. You smelled like fresh laundry and books and the subtle hint of your perfume.

“Parker’s fine. He was up and playing today. Let’s go home, baby,” Bucky murmured, most of his words spoken against your skin.

“I know he’s okay. But head injuries are a completely different protocol and I have to—”

“I miss you,” he reiterated. “And you’re working too hard. All the lights are off in the rink ‘cept for this one. Come back to my place. Let me take care of you.”

“Why don’t you shower and change first? I’ll leave with you once you finish.”

Bucky spun your stool around suddenly, one hand on your waist, the other reaching back to steady himself on the desk now at your back. “Oh no, don’t try to pull that on me. I get back in here, you’re gonna tell me you started something new you can only finish on the PT computer and you can’t leave for another hour. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

You let out a quick sigh, caught. “Well, what about—”

“Nope,” Bucky interrupted. He used his far hand to shut the facility computer and then guided you up. “You’re coming home with me. You’re gonna sit in the car while I drive you to my apartment and then we’re gonna take a shower together and I’m gonna make you feel so good you don’t even remember what a concussion is.”

“Bucky,” you chastised, hiding your face in his shoulder.

His laugh shook your head. “Still so damn shy.” He reached down to grab your bag, slinging it over his shoulder and placing a hand on the back of your neck, meeting your averted gaze. “Just me in here, baby.”

“I know. But you don’t have to be so vulgar.”

“Vulgar? Sweetheart, if you want vulgar I’ll tell you exactly what I’m gonna do to you the second we—”

You slapped your hand over his mouth, careful for the delicate skin there. Still, Bucky was sure you could feel his smile against your skin, and he fought back an even bigger one when he saw the embarrassed twist of your brow.

Slowly, he pried your wrist down, kissing the palm of your hand on the way. “Sorry,” he whispered, not sorry in the slightest.

You pursed your lips, flustered. “You’re such an antagonizer.”

Bucky could do this every day and never grow tired of it. It had been months now and he found himself only wanting you more.

“Can’t help it. I love you.”

Your faux annoyance morphed into a bashful smile, the kind Bucky remembered from his time faking injuries. It was reminiscent of when you were trying not to laugh at his jokes, or smile at his flirting, or give him any reaction he was looking for.

But he always got what he wanted in the end.

And, more than anything, he wanted you.

“That one do the trick?” Bucky asked. “Am I finally getting my girl to come home with me?”

When you looked up at him with raised brows and a smile twisted up at the corners, he knew you’d given up. Perfect timing, too, because—in all honesty—Bucky had been punched in the side during his on-ice tussle, and his ribs were starting to hurt. You were going to be pissed when you saw the bruise form tomorrow morning, but you would be pissed in his bed, so it was worth it to Bucky.

“I have to get a little bit of homework done when we get there,” you reasoned, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend.

He threw his hands up in surrender, dropping one down over your shoulders as you both walked out. “Okay, okay. Homework at my place, I got it.”

“That comes first, Bucky. Before anything else. Shower, then homework, and then… other things.”

“I know what first means, baby.”

“Good.”

But Bucky had other plans, and they did not involve homework. He was pretty sure you were ahead, anyways. Like, weeks ahead, actually.

“You eat dinner yet?” he asked, fishing his keys from his pocket.

You looked up at him, incredulous. “What did I just say?”

“What?” he defended, tugging you closer as the wind in the parking lot whipped at your clothes. “I can’t make sure my girl’s had dinner? What am I allowed to do?”

You only scoffed, tucking yourself further into his side. “Keep me warm.”

“Always, baby.”

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