Tumgik
#I'm raging it looked so ridiculous
yume-yuurei · 7 months
Text
Another day, another log-in. The doors of Ramshackle open up once more to welcome their dear resident - their Yuu, their player.
Representatives from all dorms wait with bated breath, wondering who's going to get lucky and be allowed to give their welcoming speech this time. Some are confident, head held high and proud, words sitting at the tip of their tongue, ready to be spilled; others are anxious, fidgeting with parts of their uniform and checking themselves in a mirror - such an occasion requires one to look their best, all to make a good impression on you! And, after a few torturous seconds of waiting, spotlight lands on one of the many. Their face gleams under jealous stares of their disappointed schoolmates, a single bead of sweat rolling down the nape and bringing cool air to their skin. Everything has to be perfect for the player, and perfect it is - the words that have been rehearsed hundreds of time in the privacy of their room, the face expressions, the gestures - as they voice out wishes for another productive day and offer the log-in rewards.
To be chosen as a class partner is both a blessing and a curse. Rejoice those who have skills and smarts to demonstrate and brag about, poor are those who fall behind in studies. Leona suddenly finds a reason to skip out on a midday nap in favor of sitting out a history lesson, surprising both his classmates and Professor Trein. From time to time he even bothers to speak out, interrupting some poor kid - not like they'll do anything about it, a Kingscholar is not a force to be reckoned with; Azul and Riddle stare each other down, lifting hands at every question at the speed of light, completing tasks flawlessly, outshining everybody else with their vast knowledge to the point where teachers have to ignore them on purpose - after all, other students need their marks too... Though it doesn't stop the two from flaunting their exams results after finals roll around.
What do you mean "Twisted wonderland is not a romance visual novel"? Do they look like they care? Even the heaviest of Disney censor will not stop these boys from sneaking in a couple of flirty remarks. They WILL go against code if they have to. And if main story cannot be messed with, events are still a fair game, are they not? Watch Ace throw in bold pick-up lines and inquire about your type; it's the fifth time you're inviting him in the guest room, do you have a crush on him or something?? don't get shy now, of course he's just teasing! It's a shame that your choice of answers is so limited, the game brushes off his words way too easily...
And don't get me started at the Magic Mirror summons. To be selected as a member of the player's team is an honor like no other - that means their strength was recognized. Though some card combinations can be pretty... questionable. Placing, say, Leona and Malleus or Floyd and Riddle in one team would most likely result in a mess; be careful with your choice!
772 notes · View notes
krysmcscience · 15 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Saw this prompt for incorrect OC quotes and couldn't resist with a bunch of my Breach goobers. Some of them would absolutely say these things word for word in canon if I gave them half the chance to, though. XD
They're in order of when they showed up in person - Qīng, Ghost, Red, Marisol, Shio, Cam, Daruk, Tawoos, and Alondra - as well as some important honorable mentions who have only been mentioned or gotten dialogue - Star, Blake, and Creation.
Star's design is a slight spoiler, I suppose, but it doesn't reveal if they're human or impostor, so it's all good. Creation's "design" also isn't a spoiler at all, because They can look however They want, LOL. As for Shio...some of you who have seen the body horror I've done of them may be wondering why they look so normal here, but I promise there are Reasons. :3c
In other news, will I be making a liar out of Shio in an upcoming Breach canon divergence? ..........Maybe~ >:3c
#original characters#breach#among us#(technically lol)#look i even revealed what their colors would be - as if it wasn't already patently obvious#aside from creation but - uh - ignore them (trust me it's better this way)#meanwhile qīng's color isn't even available which is a Damn Shame#there needs to be a sky blue already ffs#cyan ain't cutting it#if it were an actual lobby qīng would waffle so hard between blue and cyan and would miss his chance to pick either XD#the closest quote to canon is cam's because she REALLY wants a different job and she'll take yours in a fucking HEARTBEAT#meanwhile the closest quote to BECOMING canon is creation's and it is taking all of my willpower to resist their insistence that i allow it#the most incorrect quote of all is definitely blake's - he is so mad at me for drawing this and calling out how he feels about his old job#the biggest lie here is red's - he absolutely thinks about breaking rules and does it a lot more than he'd like to admit#someone give poor tawoos a fucking break - they didn't ask for this#i promise that marisol is more than The Bitchy Sunflower Girl - just give her some time - i promise#alondra has other aspects too but she would be weirdly offended if you tried to assure her that she's more than just Squeaky Mouse Girl#if daruk ever had to go to anger management he would accidentally incite a rage riot just like dan did in that episode of dan vs#ghost i'm sorry but your fashion sense is incomprehensible and i don't even know how i come up with half the stuff i put you in#did blake steal the jacket off of crinklytinfoil's pink/chase from the skeld? absolutely not - he borrowed it cuz those two would be BUDS#these tags are ridiculous#ok im done now
6 notes · View notes
supercutszns · 4 months
Note
Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸
fighting chance; luke castellan
Tumblr media
wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader
synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.
warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3
notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You’re not much of a fighter.
That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Unless you’re a child of Ares.
People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.
Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.
There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.
The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.
He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.
He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.
The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.
“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.
“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”
“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.
You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.
He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”
“Confer?”
“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”
A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.
“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”
It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?
“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.
He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.
“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”
“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.
You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”
His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.
“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”
It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.
The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.
Tumblr media
You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”
You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.
“All good?” He asks gently.
It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”
Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.
“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.
He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.
“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”
Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.
“And you’ve always got our flag.”
You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.
He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.
There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.
Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.
The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.
Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”
“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”
“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.
Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.
“Luke—”
“I’ll find her!”
He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.
He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.
It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.
“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”
The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.
“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.
You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”
“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”
The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.
Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.
You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.
The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.
“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”
Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.
Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.
Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.
The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.
Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.
And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.
“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.
The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.
“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”
“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”
“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.
“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”
“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.
“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”
It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.
The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”
“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”
Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”
He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.
Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.
“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”
Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.
The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”
“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”
He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”
You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.
You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.
“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”
You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”
“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”
“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”
“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”
You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.
Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”
“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”
You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.
“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”
Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”
The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.
“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.
“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”
“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”
“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.
You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”
It makes you smile. “So second-best?”
“Tied for first.”
He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.
“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”
“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”
You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.
Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.
“Don’t care,” Luke says.
You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”
“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”
You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.
You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.
3K notes · View notes
verysium · 5 months
Note
attractive things bllk characters (unintentionally) do?👀
i received this ask and decided to write this entire thing through a caffeine-powered fever dream. may have gone a little overboard. please pray for both your sanity and mine. thank you anon for your strong sense of imagination (or delusion, whichever you prefer.)
Tumblr media
nagi lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and you accidentally (or not so accidentally) get a good look at the droplets running down his abs and v-line. he also does the doorway lean while waiting for you to get ready. since he's so tall, he puts his one arm up on the top of the door frame while scrolling through his phone. when he feels drained of energy, he clings to you like a koala, face buried into the crook of your neck.
rin pushes his hair back when his bangs get in the way, and it shows off his ridiculously sharp side profile. sometimes you have to pause mid-conversation because the direct eye contact gets too intense. he has the brightest turquoise eyes in existence, and they stare right into your soul. pair that with the height difference and him towering over you. hang onto your ovaries because this man is about to snatch them. if isagi or sae are anywhere remotely close within your vicinity, he will personally drag your chair closer over to him. you know, the whole nick jonas chair pull thing? he also unintentionally clenches his jaw when pissed, the vein popping out and everything.
barou is polite to his elders. he holds the door open for others. he tips extra at restaurants. he is kind to service workers. he's just a gentleman overall even though he likes to act tough. he rolls up his sleeves while cleaning or cutting up vegetables, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearms. wears those form-fitting aprons where you can see the outline of his waist and the muscles in his back. he is not immune to raging pit bull moments, but he will calm down immediately when you ask him to.
kaiser requires physical touch to function. all concept of personal boundaries goes poof in his little ego-driven brain. he holds your chin so you look up at him while he's talking. also has that husky growl when he wakes up in the morning. he speaks german. what else is more attractive than that? if you stroke his ego, he will puff his chest out like an emperor penguin and flash that movie star smile. does not slow down his pace for you, and will laugh at your expense when you trip in heels and fall. but then he feels guilty about it and begrudgingly picks you up and carries you home. however, before that he will make you swear on everything holy to never tell isagi about his moment of weakness. (tbh kaiser is a menace and has some serious self-esteem issues. pls avoid dating a man like him in real life until he is fully mature. i still love him tho.)
reo mansplains but not in the condescending way. he does so in the "omg i'm so excited to finally get to share something with you and you're never going to believe it" sort of way. rambles on and on about his interests and gets that little glint in his eye when he's passionate about something. also not sure if this counts but he gets extremely depressed when you don't message him back within five minutes. what do you mean you were busy? he was out here dying from a literal famine. he needs your affection to survive. last but not least, he is good at styling. he knows what colors work best for you, and he will put together three new looks for you in record time.
hiori dreams that you left him for good and wakes up crying with his arms around you. will refuse to let you leave the bed even if it is just to get a glass of water. his rare moments of emotional vulnerability are what gets to you.
shidou does not condone any of your bad decisions. you want to get shit-faced and party until early morning? no complaints from him. you want to wear sexy outfits to the club? say less because he's about to enjoy the view and knock out the front teeth of every guy who dares to ogle you. i don't know if this qualifies as being attractive, but he would never be the controlling type. you can dress and act however you want. unfortunately for you though, this is also a textbook case of the blind leading the blind. if you get horrendously hungover, so does he. if you get pulled over, he's going to be too blackout drunk to even comprehend the officer's words. you can count on him for a good time, but not anything else. do not take any of his advice at face value.
oliver likes to show you off even if he doesn't notice it himself. any talk with his team, and he will find a way to make the entire conversation about you. at this point, the entire u-20 team is done with him. they placed bets that you two wouldn't last more than a month due to his philandering reputation, but the universe seems to think otherwise because you and oliver hit the six-month mark and are still going strong.
ness guards your drink with an unnecessary amount of protection. while you left to go use the restroom, he was looking left and right, and the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling every time someone even came close to your cup. he also shoos away any person who opens their mouth while standing next to your drink because apparently the condensation from their breath could be dangerous. definitely covers your cup with both hands even if it has a lid. no suspicious shit is happening on his watch.
yukimiya is well-read, and he wears glasses. he has a copy of every single classic out there in existence and will fangirl along with you over your virginia woolf collection. he was written by a woman with two cats and a wine glass. not much else to say.
loki absolutely clears the entire carnival/arcade game. you want that giant teddy bear that costs over three hundred ticket points? say less because he's about to win the whole damn pot. of all characters, i would say he's one of the only green flags. like celery green.
isagi always looks for you when he enters the room. intentionally or not, he always seeks your presence. if someone says a funny joke, he turns to you to see if you're laughing or not. also does that somewhat creepy stare thing where he just looks at you quietly while you do mundane tasks. internally he is screaming cus what do you mean you actually like him?
chigiri gives you that thankful little smile whenever you stand up for him. i feel like people don't understand how goofy he can get as he's canonically good at doing impressions/impersonations. also has the prettiest laugh. if he ever cuts his hair, i think i'm going to get a nosebleed.
noa unconsciously says yes to every question you ask of him. he'd be giving bastard münchen a hard time (and denying isagi's requests) but then immediately once you come over, he's automatically acquiescing to everything you say. the rest of the team is low-key shocked you can win him over so easily. when they confront him about it, he just shrugs and goes "y/n is always right."
kurona's entire existence is attractive. he's just perfect. nothing is ever wrong with him. will let you check out his shark teeth and lightly pokes your finger to leave an imprint. hopefully you'll always remember him that way. he's also quiet so he will listen to everything you say and give ample weight to your words.
sae is my baby girl so he gets a whole section dedicated to himself:
absentmindedly plays with your hair. when you're sleeping in his lap, he'll gently run his fingers along your scalp. sometimes in the morning when you're sitting up on the edge of your bed to do your makeup, he'll come up from behind you and brush back your hair. might also press a kiss to the back of your neck.
helps you put on your face mask. when he's shopping, he will buy you lotion along with his own skincare products. says that it was just a convenient store run but you know he personally made sure to get you the best quality ones.
this is canon because i said so: when he gets out of the shower, he slings the towel over his neck or his shoulder. he also involuntarily flexes his biceps when he bends down to grab something. has the world's most defined deltoids.
when you're stuck in large crowds at the airport, he puts his hand in your back pocket to keep you two from getting separated. if the TSA pat-down is anywhere too personal for his liking, he will openly glare at the officer once you've passed the security checkpoint.
bonus point: when you two brush your teeth early in the morning, he has that little bed head where his shorn-off bangs stick up in cute little tufts here and there. will have a dead look on his face, but his eyes soften when he catches your gaze through the mirror.
4K notes · View notes
rafesaddiction · 7 months
Text
Hole Practice (or: Golf Lessons) – Rafe Cameron x Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: You want to learn how to golf better. Rafe teaches you a different kind of lesson. Rafe's pov
Warnings: mdni! – heavy smut, sorta toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, spanking, rough sex, fingering, anal (first time), oral (rafe receiving), p in v, cream pie, degrading (reader is called whore by rafe), daddy kink, mean!rafe, bratty!reader, dom!rafe
Word count: 4.3k
“Hey, ain't that your girl, Rafe?”
“What?” Rafe put down the bottle of water he was drinking from and looked at Topper, then his gaze wandered to where Topper was pointing at.
“Over there. The one that is holding up everyone at hole 9.”
“Fucking hell,” Rafe grumbled under his breath when he spotted you. Several hundred yards away, there you stood with a golf club in hand, bending down to place the ball on the ground.
“She got a terrible swing but a real nice ass, real nice.” Kelce snickered and Rafe's head spun round, glaring at him.
Kelce defensively lifted his hands and slowly walked backwards. “Hey dude, chill. I'm just saying those shorts suit her nicely, just paying compliments. Respectfully.”
Rafe tossed the water bottle away, clenching his fists, stomping forward, every muscle in his body tensed up. He was frowning as he felt hot rage coursing through his veins. Rafe was about to beat the living shit out of one of his best friends when a sound made him stop and turn your way again. The wind had carried the sound of your laughter over to him. And Rafe watched you giggle and joke around with some guy, your caddie from the looks of it.
Rafe's hands balled into fists as he watched the two of you talk. That guy had put down the golf bag he was carrying for you and stepped closer. Stepped very close. Too close. He stood behind you, directly behind you, with your ass only covered by those ridiculously tiny shorts pressing against his crotch as his arms wrapped around you, his hands on yours, holding the golf club.
Rafe let out an angry scream that wasn't even a real curse and ran over to the golf cart, got in and started driving over the hilly course towards you.
“Yeah, man, take the fucking cart, so we have to walk!” Topper yelled behind Rafe, but Rafe didn't even bother to turn around. “Fucking unbelievable,” were the last words he heard from Topper, and Kelce's snickering in response. Rafe's hands gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles showing white on his right hand, his other hand coverd by his golf glove.
He drove at full speed, which wasn't that fast with this damn golf cart, but at least faster than running. Racing over the greens, he didn't pay attention whether he was interrupting other people's games. His gaze was fixed on you and that fucking caddie that was practically dry humping you on the golf course.
The cart came to a halt close to you, Rafe jumped off, took a club from the bag at the back and stormed towards you and the caddie, raising the club, fuming with rage.
You and the caddie turned, looking at Rafe stunned and shocked. While you opened your mouth to say something to Rafe, the caddie muttered a curse, his eyes widened as he saw Rafe with the golf club swinging at him. The guy quickly pushed you out of the way, so you fell on the ground, landing on the grass, while he ran, ran as fast as he could with a yelling Rafe chasing him. And Rafe would've gotten him, would have beaten him to death, if it wasn't for your whining noises that made him stop and turn, lower his golf club and walk back to you.
Rafe was towering you, casting his long shadow over you, as you were sitting on the ground, rubbing your ass on which you obviously had fallen, looking up at your tall boyfriend with large eyes.
“I'm hurt,” you mouthed and sniffled.
Rafe grunted, reached down and picked you up. With so much vigor that you practically crashed against his chest. Bracing yourself, your hands touched Rafe's heaving chest, felt those tense muscles underneath the fabric of his expensive polo shirt. You looked up at him with big eyes. He clenched his jaws and his large hands gripped your hips as he held you close. He was still fuming with rage.
“What the hell were you doing?”
You lowered your head, then looked up, with just your eyes.
“I was just practicing holes.”
Rafe's eyebrows raised and he almost choked.
“You what?”
Your eyes went to his chest and your finger was idly drawing circles on Rafe's shirt. You shrugged and innocently explained, “I’m taking some practice lessons. I wanted to get better at golf, so that you would take me with you when you and the boys play.”
You stopped your drawings on Rafe's chest and looked up at him with pouty lips.
“Are you mad at me?”
Instead of answering, Rafe growled and frowned.
You smirked at him, you cocky little brat.
“What are you wearing anyway? Every bastard on this course is staring at your ass.”
“Don't you like my golf outfit, Rafey?” You knew he hated it when you called him that and you did it anyway. His jaws clenched.
You wore a collared blue shirt but instead of a matching skirt or proper golf shorts, you wore the tiniest shorts possible, tightly snugging your curves, barely covering your panties.
“This is no proper outfit for golfing. Those shorts scream ‘fuck me'.”
Rafe's right hand slapped hard on your exposed ass cheek, surely leaving his hand print.
You flinched and winced, then pouted, and struggled to free yourself from Rafe’s grip, but he was stronger and pulled you closer and slapped your ass again. His palm tingled, and from the look on your face, your cheek must be burning.
His fingers grabbed your chin to lift your face as he leaned down.
“I’m gonna teach you holes now,” he whispered, darkly, close to your lips.
Your cheeks flushed. He grinned devilishly. With all your bratty behavior and cockiness, Rafe was still able to make you blush. His mouth claimed yours in a hungry kiss, tongue pushing in, he took what was his, as he held your body close.
When he let go, your cheeks were still flushed, your lips swollen and you were slightly out of breath.
“Since you have chased my caddie away, you will have to carry my golf bag,” you announced and turned to look for your ball.
Rafe grumbled but shouldered the damn golf bag and followed you.
“Where's that damn thing anyway?” He asked when he had caught up with you.
“There,” you pointed at the gorse.
Rafe exhaled. “We're not getting it out of there. Just take a new one.”
“No, that would be cheating, I'm gonna get it.”
“Y/n, fucking don't!”
But you ignored his words and stomped onwards, right into the gorse – and with every step you took, your ass was bouncing invitingly.
“Fuck's sake,” Rafe grumbled and followed you.
He found you bent over, legs straight, head down, ass up, hands touching the high grass, looking for your ball.
Rafe's own balls tightened at the sight. That perky ass, those tiny shorts hardly covering anything, that red mark on your bare skin – he had been correct, his hand print was showing.
His growl made you turn your head at him, but not lift your upper body.
“I think I've found it, but it's stuck.”
Rafe grumbled, walked closer. Walking with his dick getting harder was damn uncomfortable.
“Fuck's sake,” he repeated.
“What?” You asked innocently, wriggling your fine ass.
“Enough,” Rafe barked and you flinched at his harsh tone.
Before you could get up, he grabbed you, threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and his hand smacked your ass several times, making you mewl. Rafe carried you out of the gorse, over the greens to the golf cart.
“Ouch,” you mouthed and pulled a face as you were seated on your ass, sore from his spanking.
He got in the cart, sat behind the steering wheel and shot you a sideways glance. His eyes narrowed.
“Stop complaining, that was nothing yet.”
“Where are we going?” You sniffled.
“To the club,” he stated tersely. He knew he wouldn't make it back home to Tanny Hill, with his dick already achingly hard. A room at the club would do, and he knew there would always be one available – the perks of being a premium member.
“But what about my lessons?” You looked at Rafe, sulking.
“Oh, your lessons ain't over yet.”
He could see you nibbling at your bottom lip, something you did when you were nervous or excited or both.
While he was driving across the course, he tried to look where he was going, but you kept on wriggling in your seat, which was fucking irritating.
“Stop that!” He faced you briefly and lifted his hand, a warning gesture.
“Sorry, daddy,” you said sweetly, leaned forward, and your mouth covered Rafe's finger. Sucking on it, you looked at him with large eyes, your lips closed tightly around the digit, your tongue swirling around it.
“Jesusfuckingchrist!” Rafe almost ran over some gaffer – not that he would've cared.
Rafe tried to get back on track while his cock was pulsing. You took his hand, guided it between your legs, rubbing over your thighs as you spread them. His hand touched the fabric of those damn shorts, and Rafe could feel that you were already soaking wet, those layers of clothing couldn't even hide that.
You began moaning as you were rubbing his hand against your core.
He pulled it away, raised it, finger pointing, and glared at you angrily.
“Don't!”
You pouted, crossed your arms in front of your chest and looked away. But Rafe grabbed your jaw forcefully, turning your face to look at him, pressing harder than necessary, which made you wince and gaze at him.
“You don't touch yourself unless I allow you. You know the rules.”
He kept his eyes on you while still driving.
“You hear me?” His voice loud and intimidating.
You cast your eyes down and mumbled, “Yes, daddy.”
His cock twitched in his pants, which were getting too damn tight by now.
When he let go, you added, hardly audible, “But I didn't touch myself, it was your hand…”
You probably thought that he didn't hear that as he didn't react to it right away, but he did hear it, and it drove him fucking insane. And you would experience soon enough how mad he was because of you.
Rafe parked the golf cart close to entrance of the main building, got out, grabbed your arm, so hard he would leave bruises, and dragged you along with him. You could hardly keep up, he was walking so quickly, and with his tall legs, he was able to make longer strides.
At the reception no one questioned why Rafe was holding you in such a tight grip while you were obviously struggling to escape. He asked for the key card to a room and he got it and on top of that, the receptionist wished him a pleasant day. Rafe growled in response.
He shoved you towards the elevator and got inside with you. It cost him a lot not to ravish you the moment the doors closed. The grip around your arm was iron. When the doors opened, he pushed you out, along the corridor to the room. After opening it with the key card, he forcefully pushed you inside. You stumbled and almost fell, but caught yourself on the edge of the king-size bed.
Right after he had let go off you, he started to undress himself, pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes.
“Take off those goddamn shorts and get on the bed. Now.” His commanding voice left you no choice but to obey. You looked at him, eyes wandering over his naked body as you undressed yourself, taking the shorts together with the panties off last. He frowned at you, but your eyes were on his rock hard cock that he was stroking, while glaring at you.
You climbed onto the bed. Impatiently, he walked over and grabbed you, moved you around as he wanted to have you, flipping you over, then pulling your body up, so you were on all fours now, while he kneeled behind your spread legs.
Rafe leaned over your body, his chest touching your back, his hand grabbed your throat, forcing your head up, a restrained sound coming from your opened mouth.
“You gonna be a good whore, right?” He cooed into your ear.
With his free hand, he guided his hard length between your legs, rubbing it along your dripping wet slit, covering it nicely in your juices. You mewled and started wriggling.
“Please,” you moaned, already so needy.
He turned your face to shut those desperate moans with his greedy kiss, while his cock was replaced by his fingers, which where rubbing along your slit, parting your folds, but never quite entering and never touching your clit. You were so incredibly wet, his fingers were practically dripping as he pulled them away and sat up behind you, letting go off your throat, leaving you with a confused look on your face.
“I still need to teach you a lesson.”
You opened your mouth, trying to say something, but Rafe continued, a sardonic grin on his face.
“The lesson is: If you wear such tiny shorts, hardly covering your ass, but showing it off, inviting everyone to fuck it, you get fucked up the ass, like the whore you are.”
“But –” you started to complain, but a slap of his hand on your ass made you cry out instead.
Despite it being such a fine piece of flesh, Rafe had never fucked your ass before, only put a finger or two inside your tight hole once or twice. You didn't have proper training yet, but you needed to learn that your teasing had consequences.
He spat on his already wet fingers and stroked between your ass cheeks. You whined, but he knew that it was a sound you made when you were impatient. You wouldn't have to wait long – though it wasn't what you actually waited for, he knew that. Rafe gripped you by the hip, as his fingers pushed against your back entrance. Your muscle was tense and instead of opening up for him, it closed. Rafe growled and he felt your body shudder. His grip got firmer, preventing you from retreating as his index finger pushed inside, stretching your tight ring.
“It hurts, daddy,” you whined and craned your neck to look back at Rafe.
He slowly moved his finger back and forth inside you. Your breathing hitched as he curled that finger in your tight hole. Your muscle was clenching so hard around his digit, it almost made it impossible to move it.
He let go off your hip to hit your ass cheek.
“Relax! Or it'll just hurt more.”
Your answer was a whining sound and you let your head hang between your shoulders.
Rafe pushed your legs further apart to get better access, pressed on your lower back and you obeyed by arching your back nicely. He grinned at the sight. You were completely exposed to him and at his mercy.
He pulled his finger out, only to push back in two fingers, thrusting deep and hard.
You let out a scream and started begging.
“Daddy, daddy, please,” you whined.
His fingers fucking your ass, he let his hard cock teasingly brush along your pussy, never applying too much pressure, just enough to tease you. When he pulled back, his cock was covered in your wetness.
“So wet for me. Such a needy whore you are.”
His fingers left your hole, the tight muscle pulsing invitingly. He rubbed some more spit on it and felt you shiver under his touch.
He took his cock in his hand, guiding it, stroking your round ass cheeks with it, before pressing the wet tip against your throbbing little hole.
“You gonna take it like the good whore you are, hm? Your my little whore, right?”
You mewled and panted.
He waited.
“Daddy, daddy,” you whined.
Then he heard you inhale and exhale deeply, pushing your ass up, that little hole twitched and opened up, inviting him in, and he pushed in.
You cried out as his cock's thick head stretched your tender muscle. He needed both his hands now to grip your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, holding you in place, as he greedily watched his thick cock slowly pushing into your fine ass.
Your screaming turned into an irregular whimpering as the thick head was practically sucked into your ass.
“So, good,” Rafe praised you, his own breathing heavy. “You're doing so good, baby, taking me so good. Such a good whore.”
His thumb caressed your hip, he felt you relax just the tiniest bit. He tensed up, tightened his grip again and thrust his hip forward, making your body almost jump forward by the force, if he hadn't held you that firmly.
He growled as your walls clenched around his cock, but he pushed deeper. Pulling back, he gasped as your sensitive muscle was clamping so hard around his thick cock.
“So good, baby,” he said under heavy breathing.
He pushed in, watching with greedy fascination how his too big cock vanished inch by inch into your perfect ass, stretching your too tight hole mercilessly.
“Daddy! I can't!” You cried out, sobbing now.
“You can and you will.”
He began moving in a steady rhythm, fucking your tight ass good and hard. He didn't push too hard though, knowing well what you could take. You were sobbing and crying and whining, but he didn't stop, he knew your body better than you did, and he knew that you could do this. Your little protests, your screams and moans and whimpers made him only go harder.
He couldn't get it all in though, you were too tight and not trained, and he was too big. Part of him got angry about that, but you felt so damn good, he could use you so damn well that it seemed enough.
Then he saw your hand move between your legs, you were desperately trying to touch yourself. But Rafe didn't let you.
He angrily growled, slapped your ass hard, making you flinch. Then he grabbed your hand by the wrist, twisting your arm behind your back and holding it there.
You cried out in pain.
“I told you not to do that!” He growled between clenched teeth. You were driving him mad, so fucking mad.
Your body shook and trembled under his hard thrusts as he took what was his, took you without mercy. Pounding you harder, his growing anger made him lose all restraint.
You were so tight, the friction was so intense, the sounds you made were so hot, Rafe felt his climax approaching and he didn't hold back. He felt his every muscle tense up, then let go, gasping for air, as he reached his orgasm, shooting his cum into you. His whole body electrified and in that post orgasmic bliss, he pushed again into your well-used hole, once, twice, driving his load deeper into you, before pulling out. When he let go off you, you just face down collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard, a fucking mess. He grinned at the sight of you.
“My whore,” he whispered into your ear, leaning down, kissing your damp hair, before he got up. His own breathing slowing down eventually.
Watching you lie there, and wriggle and pant, he knew you hadn't reached your climax yet.
“Don't you dare move”, his voice a dark command.
He waited for a moment. And this time it seemed you were actually listening, probably fearing the consequences. Had you learned your lesson after all? He doubted that, you were such a brat and would always be. Since you didn't move, just lay there panting, Rafe went into the adjoining bathroom to clean himself.
When he came back, you were lying in the same position on the bed, on your stomach, arms away from your body, legs apart, your body raising and falling from your exhausted breathing, cum dripping out of your hole between your reddened cheeks. Rafe grinned at the sight of the mess he had turned you into.
He sat down on the bed, still naked, back resting against the headboard, his legs on the bed, he was sitting next to you, not touching you, but you could definitely feel the bed tilt from his weight, feel his proximity, as he felt the heat radiating from your body.
You lifted your head, turned your face to gaze at him with teary eyes.
“You're such a mess,” he grinned at you, his hand caressing your face.
“Did you cum?” He asked, but already knew the answer.
You shook your head.
“You wanna cum?”
You nodded eagerly.
“Then you know what to do,” he simply said.
You got up on your knees next to him, sat down on your heels, flinching as they poked into your sore ass cheeks.
“Please daddy can I cum?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.
“And how do you wanna cum?” It wasn't a real question, more of a test.
Still, you seemed to contemplate the answer, biting your bottom lip. Your gaze turned to his cock, though not hard, still impressive. Then your eyes moved to his hands. Those hands that knew how to hold you, to touch you. Then your look was on his face. Yours was a beautiful mess. Your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, your eyes teary and bloodshot, tears and sweat had ruined your makeup and smeared mascara all over your face. God, you were so beautiful.
“With your cock inside me.”
The way you said those words, with such sincerity and almost solemn honesty, it made his cock twitch in response.
But words weren't enough.
“Then work for it.”
In an inviting, almost generous gesture, he pointed at his crotch.
You very willingly accepted the invitation, moved closer, bent over, and Rafe hissed as your greedy little mouth took in his thick cock, sucking hard at it, tongue swirling along the tip. One hand clasping the thick shaft, you steadied yourself with the other hand on his thigh. You gazed sideways up at him, when you began bobbing your head.
Rafe's breathing quickened, as he felt his cock growing in your mouth. His hands clutched the expensive bedsheets, stopping himself from forcing your head down further. You were already gagging on his length, not nearly half of it in your mouth.
Your efforts did some good, but he wasn't ready yet.
He grabbed you by the hair to pull you up, made you whimper, spit dripping from your swollen lips, as you were gazing at him.
“Ride it.”
His command made you freeze and visibly shudder, but you hurried to follow his order. As he let go off your hair, you straddled him, mewling when his thick length pressed against your sensitive core, too long neglected, it seemed.
He gripped your jaws hard, made you focus on him. His piercing eyes glaring at you.
“Don't you dare cum before I’m inside of you. Understood?”
You tried to nod, which was hard with his tight grip at your jaws, but your pleading eyes told him, you had understood him.
“Good.” He leaned forward to kiss you hard, before letting go and leaning back in the pillows.
Your hands ran over his muscular torso. You bit your lips, looking at his hard abs, as you began rocking your hips against him, your tits bouncing nicely. He grabbed them, kneaded them with both his hands, felt how you flinched and tensed up, as you felt his greedy hunger. His cock pulsing under you.
You closed your eyes, as if you would focus on the slick sounds your pussy made when slapping against his hard dick.
“Turn around.” Rafe's voice made your eyes flutter open. “Let me see that ass that you want the whole golf club to fuck. Let me see that ass that only belongs to me.”
Rafe added an encouraging slap on your ass to stress his command. He even helped you to turn, sit down, astride with your back to him, while you did nothing more than make those small needy sounds that drove him insane with lust.
His hand pushed on your upper back, making you bent down a bit, holding onto his legs.
He had the perfect view of your ass and pussy. His cum dripping from your ass mixing with your own wetness dripping from your pussy.
Two fingers dipped into your cunt, making you squirm and mewl and beg.
“Daddy…”
You clenched around his digits and he slapped your ass.
Pulling out his fingers, he lifted you up, pushed you into position, guiding his now rock hard cock to your pussy and pushed in. Rafe grabbed your hair to get you into an upright position again. His hands on your hips, guiding your movements as his hips rocked hard against yours, pushing his whole length into you as you sank down onto him.
“Rafe, Daddy, fuck,” you stammered, your whole body shuddered and you were completely undone, cumming all over his cock just from his first thrust into you.
And he fucked you through your high, not stopping when you were all spent. Using you over and over again.
You were such a good whore for him. And all your holes were his.
a/n: writing this was a lot of fun. i don't know shit about golf. thanks for reading. i hope you enjoyed it. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, and likes too! i've only been doing this for 2 weeks now and i'm kinda overwhelmed that my first x reader smut fic got over 1k notes! thank you all so much! i got ideas for many more fics. let me know what you'd like to read! p.s. happy kinktober!
4K notes · View notes
honey-on-your-tongue · 8 months
Text
Sort of nsfw? part 2 coming 🙃
Dbsf! Miguel, shocked when you come home for spring break to announce you have a boyfriend, surprise and rage filling him in almost equal amounts. Just in New Year's, he'd had you looking at him like that, that sweet gaze, soft and full of an innocence you do not posses. But now that look comes across your eyes when you talk about him, this barely-adult boy who, Miguel is sure, doesn't have the faintest clue about how to take care of you.
He spends hours listening to you talking about this teenage boy, twenty-something, who's probably unaware of how lucky he is that a girl like you has even looked his way.
He grits his teeth the entire time, trying to contain the rage within him. It all goes to hell the moment you two are alone.
You'd been up in your bedroom for a while, and then your dad went to buy groceries and asked Miguel to keep you company.
Boy, did he.
He storms into your room, eyes dark with rage, chest heaving with each heavy breath. You look at him, surprised, eyes going wide.
“M-Miguel? Are you oka—?”
“Don't you dare ask me if I'm okay,” he snarls, slamming the door shut after himself. “You come here talking about some-some kid?! After New Year's?!”
New Year's. How the fuck could you ever forget? You'd come home from college to celebrate. At the party, before midnight, you and Miguel had run into each other on the balcony, away from the crowd. Both of you tipsy, the tension obvious, neither could resist the temptation.
As the ball dropped at midnight, Miguel was already balls-deep in your soaked, puffy cunt. He took you over and over again in that secluded room, your gorgeous body spread out on the bed as you screamed his name.
Neither of you would ever be the same again.
“Do you remember what you said?” he demands, something in his voice growing soft as he towers over you in your bedroom now. “Do you remember what you promised me?”
You swallow hard. You can still hear your own voice, broken by moans, as you swore, “I'm yours, Miguel.”
“Yes,” you say softly, holding his gaze.
He bites his tongue, sharp canines digging into the soft muscle as he tries to keep himself quiet. He says it anyway. “Was it a lie?”
“What?”
He hears the disbelief in your voice; he knows you heard him. He asks it again. “Did you lie about it?”
“No!” you immediately say, shaking your head as you stand from your bed. “No, of course not.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing with a boyfriend?” he snaps, glaring at you.
You sigh. “I...” You bite your lower lip. It was fucking ridiculous. How the fuck were you supposed to tell him that you'd seen this guy who had looked a little like Miguel and you'd already been head over heels?
You missed Miguel. Joey was just...a stand-in. Someone to warm your bed instead of leave you thinking about your dad's best friend.
But how are you going to say that?
“I just...” You sigh quietly. “He's nothing to me. When he fucks me, it...it means nothing.”
Miguel starts seeing red when he finds out this kid is fucking his Princesa. He's on you in seconds, huge hands grabbing your hips. He sits you on your bed and leans over you, bracing his hands on the mattress. His lips are inches from yours, breathing heavy.
“He's fucking you?” Miguel growls, making you shudder as you feel the anger emanating off of him.
You swallow thickly. “I—He—Yeah?”
That's the last straw for Miguel. He presses his mouth to yours, kissing you hard. Part of him is afraid—no, terrified, that you won't kiss back, that the same passion and need that was once there will be gone.
Instead, he finds you hungrier than ever. You kiss him back with almost as much want, desire pouring out of you.
You'd forgotten what it was like to kiss Miguel, to feel his mouth, taste him, the rough caress of his hands as he he starts tugging at your clothes.
You undress eagerly, needing him more than ever. His mouth waters at the sight of your bare skin, your perfect body all for him.
His cock is so hard, twitching in his pants as he aches to fuck you.
But first, he needs to taste you.
He gets on his knees in front of you and smirks. “I'm gonna give you a thousand different reasons to choose me over anyone else,” he promises, his mouth already inching towards your pussy.
You don't need him to give you any reasons for anything. You'll always choose him over everyone else.
-----
@yagirlheree @sukioyakio @obi-mom-kenobi @celestia80s @manlikemilesmyguy @zaunsin @naniiiii12 @everlastlady @avatar-lover @siidmm @dhollandhs @spikedhe4rt @missing2socks @itzraven101 @miguelspookiebear @mochikomochisoft @sunset-euphoria @kishibeswh0re @m4dyy @icreatedthisat317am @keiva1000
*if you want me to add you to my Miguel fic masterlist, comment or send me a message <3
-----
Blog masterlist
2K notes · View notes
satoruxx · 3 months
Text
SAUDADE.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 3.7k words
✧ SUMMARY: canon au, set after geto leaves so lots of unresolved feelings, alternate between past and present, megumi and tsumiki cameo, satoru has a raging crush on you but you're blind, suguru also had a raging crush on you but you were still blind, slight angst bc canon jjk events, lots of longing on suguru's end, you're confused af, satoru PINES for you and shoko is so tired of him, but overall very fluffy
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: will i ever publish the actual canon au? who knows. this fic is written in that same au but it's just a snippet of their lives. if you've read angel on my shoulder, just know that's an alternate ending of this au where reader dies lol. but this is very sweet bc you don't die !! you and satoru love each other lots but suck at showing it. happy valentine's day everyone <33
Tumblr media
you glance at satoru's giddy smile, wariness creeping up your shoulders before turning to shoko. "what's wrong with him?" you ask, shifting slightly from where you're leaning against one of balconies of jujutsu high.
"who knows?" she sighs, eyes flickering up to glance at the snowy haired sorcerer just barely before they turn back to you. "ignore him."
"hey!" satoru huffs, walking closer to sling an arm around your shoulder—casual, like it's something he doesn't have to think about. you grumble under the extra weight, shooting him a glare, but he's too busy smiling like he's up to something.
"so…" he grins down at you, eyes shining and full of mischief. "know what day it is today?"
you blink at him, trying to scour your brain. "what's the date again?"
satoru gives you a blank stare, before sighing heavily. "god you're slow. it's february 14th, stupid."
"oh," you reply blankly, relaxing because it's nothing inherently important. "so valentine's day?"
satoru's smile comes back full force—cheeky and blinding. "exactly! and when i went shopping today guess what happened?"
"what happened?" shoko asks boredly, shaking her head when she makes eye contact with you.
"well," he drags out the word, crossing his arms like he's pleased with himself. "i was walking along after picking up some sweets because—"
"because you have an addiction," you supplement, and satoru pauses to glare down at you, reaching out to flick a long finger against your forehead.
"it's not an addiction! and don't interrupt me! anyways—"
you smother a smile that shoko mirrors.
"—i was walking and then these two girls came up to me all smiley. like they were giggling and shit, right?"
"uh huh."
"and they started going on and on about how i was the most handsome guy they've ever seen. and then they asked how come i was walking around by myself on valentine's day."
you blink, suddenly feeling a strange mix of interest and irritation.
"so i told them that it's not really my thing and that i didn't have anyone to celebrate with anyway. and then they said it was actually a crime that someone like me was single on valentine's day."
you have to suppress a roll of your eyes, though you're not sure why.
"so basically the moral of the story is that i'm extremely charming and super good-looking too! and that girls love me!"
he looks at you, eyes scrutinizing your expression as you glance at shoko, unimpressed.
"that's it? that's your crazy story?"
"well you guys always say i'm full of it when i call myself hot! now i have proof that it's a universal truth!"
"well we're not stupid—" shoko rolls her eyes, hugging her arms to push away the cold as she leans against the railing. "—we know you're freakishly hot. you're just obnoxious and we like teasing you."
"ugh." satoru rolls his eyes, huffing as he stretches his joints. "you guys are ridiculous. and—"
he pauses, an odd expression crossing his face as he blinks in thought. then he's turning to you with the most smug smirk you've ever seen on him. "wait. you think i'm hot?"
you frown, lips parting in mild confusion. "huh?"
"that's what shoko just said. that you think i'm freakishly hot."
your brows shoot up, an unfamiliar rush of heat crawling up your skin. "but she said both of us! like it's just something that's obvious. i mean as long as you have eyes anyone can see—"
"oh so it's obvious, is it?" satoru's expression is oddly giddy, a pink flush settling high on his cheekbones.
you gape at him, suddenly speechless. you don't remember satoru ever having the ability to make you speechless before.
you can't comprehend the stirring in your chest—uncomfortable and unfamiliar.
"you—" you scoff, reaching up to shove him away. "you're full of shit. doesn't change no matter how hot you are."
shoko has gone quiet, eyes darting between you and satoru with an uncharacteristic glint of curiosity. but satoru's gaze does not stray away from you, pearly whites on full display as he licks his lips. he doesn't say anything else, running his fingers through his hair.
"sure sure," satoru hums—pleased. "whatever you say."
you throw shoko an exasperated glare, and she shakes her head, though there is a shine of amusement in her eyes—like she knows something that you don't.
"i mean, they were right you know?" satoru ponders, leaning back against the railing. "why aren't we doing something fun today? we used to go out and buy a shit ton of chocolate back when—"
he stops, expression going sour, before disappearing all together. there is a clear absence, one that the three of you notice but try not to linger on.
("valentine's day?" suguru had asked years ago, glancing down at you with a smile. "you like it?"
"definitely not," you reply, cheeks warming as you fiddle with the sugared churros in your hand, unable to look at him. "what's so great about a day where couples spend a shit ton of money on each other to make the rest of us singles feel miserable?"
a muted chuckle, and when you look up suguru's eyes are shining with mirth. "i'm sure you wouldn't think that if you weren't single."
"i guess," you huff, glancing at the sidewalk. your face feels like it's on fire—but suguru has always had that effect on you. "not very likely to happen though."
the expression suguru throws you will linger in your mind until the day you die. "what do you mean?" he asks—incredulous, like you were speaking nonsense. he stops in his tracks, the busy streets bustling around him as you continue to walk.
you take a bite of your churro, glancing back at him with clear confusion. "huh? oh i just meant me dating someone is unlikely," you shrug, though suguru looks speechless, lips parted and eyes wide behind dark bangs.
"why on earth do you say that?" he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. he seems to visibly shake off his initial shock to continue walking, and you patiently wait for him to rejoin your side—he does.
"i don't know," you say, somewhat bashfully because you don't usually talk about these things with him. "do you really think there's room for things like that in our lives?"
"do you?" he counters, and you're too busy formulating your answer to notice that he's oddly interested, eyes continuously darting over your face.
"i mean, it'd be great if there was," you ponder, taking another quick bite. "it'd be nice to be able to settle down with someone even after all the crap we've gone through."
"right…" suguru seems to nod along with you, matching your steps even with his longer stride.
"but—" you stress. "considering that most of us are too traumatized or dead by that time, i don't have much faith."
you laugh at your own statement, but there isn't much amusement in it at all. putting it into words makes you truly realize how shitty your lives are even at such a young age.
your mind drifts to the cerulean eyed sorcerer who's currently off in a different city, being made to fight because he is god on earth in a seventeen year old body. it drifts to a brown haired girl who sits, secluded in a room as bodies are sent to her on a conveyor belt, her hands outstretched to feel blood and gore and horror day in and day out. then it drifts to the boy who is most like you, the one with the dark bangs who rationalizes this pain, this service you have devoted yourselves to with the need to do good for others—because there is no other explanation for why you have to go through this.
the same boy who takes your answer in critically, eyes heavy with an oddly somber sheen. he doesn't say anything, thinking hard, and you focus on eating your churro because you've never once found silence with suguru to be uncomfortable.
you are halfway finished when he breaks it.
"well…" suguru's voice is oddly high, a tick of nerves that doesn't usually infiltrate his calm tone. "if there was room for it, what would a good valentine's day look like for you?"
you laugh, loud and unfiltered, and suguru's skin flushes at the sound.
"i don't know!" your laughter dies down into hushed giggles. "i can't think of anything. besides this is stupid as hell!"
"indulge me," he says quietly, and when you turn to look up at him he's staring at you deeply—eyes hooded and smile gone. you suddenly feel oddly parched as heat crawls up your neck.
"um—" you swallow, the churro in your hand forgotten as you glance at the sidewalk again. "i-i'm not sure. i've really never thought that much about it."
"would you want flowers?" he asks. you suddenly become acutely aware that his voice has gone lower, throaty and deep in a way that sends chills up your spine.
you shake your head quietly, somehow nervous to look at him. "it makes me sad that they die off in a few days. better to keep them planted than cut them for a bouquet."
a quiet huff of laughter—fond and nostalgic. "that's on par for you. very in-character."
you lick your lips, tasting the sugar from the treat in your hand. "i guess…maybe i'd like chocolates?"
"chocolates?" suguru repeats, like he's surprised. you don't know why his reaction has you stumbling, but you shake your head quickly, appalled that you're even telling him this in the first place.
"i mean—it's not a big deal or anything! even just a small box of them would do! i don't really care anyway—"
"i would've guessed you'd like a plushie or something along those lines." he hums, a small smile stretching across his face. there's a dust of color blooming across his cheekbones, and you think he looks unfairly charming.
"that's good too!" you reply, too quickly, before catching yourself and ducking your head. "i mean…i don't know. plushies are really cute. i think they'd be a cute gift."
there's a beat of silence, and when you look up suguru is smiling at you like you've just put the stars in the sky for him. he hums to himself, eyes darting around the streets and looking much more at ease than he did a few minutes prior. you find yourself unable to look away.
"what would you want?" the words escape before you can stop them.
"me?" he asks, tilting his head in mild surprise.
"yeah. what would you want for valentine's day?"
suguru blanches, gaze darting over your facial features with shocking speed. it lingers on your eyes, before flickering downward, then shooting back up. you're trying to trace them but they're too fast, and he shuts them before you can process anything. he keeps his eyes closed as you curiously await his answer.
to this day you don't quite understand what he meant.
"anything i can get," he answers with a rueful smile, shaking his head at you fondly. his eyes bore into yours with an intensity you've never seen before. "anything at all.")
a familiar voice tickles your ear amongst the silence even now, and you rub your palms together. you can feel satoru's gaze on you, trailing over your expression—searching, analyzing.
you let him—used to it.
"that's enough of that for now. plus don't the two of you have to go check on the kids today?" shoko asks, eyeing the two of you pointedly. her voice has a strain to it, one that you can only pick up because you've known her so long. but you're grateful for the change in subject as you glance at satoru, who checks his phone.
"ah shit. they should be back from school by now but we were supposed to pick up some groceries beforehand," he mutters under his breath before looking down at you. "you wanna head over there first and i'll go get some stuff?"
"sure," you reply, patting shoko's shoulder in farewell. satoru steps closer, digging into his pockets before dropping the apartment keys into your palm. he pushes his shades up the bridge of his nose, eyes trailing over your face like he's searching for something, and yet you can't make out what.
a beat of silence.
"d-don't forget to get some of those cookies tsumiki said she liked last time." you drop the keys into your bag and shrug off the odd feeling of this conversation—something strange that you don't feel like looking into because you're scared of what you'll find out about yourself.
satoru's eyes go soft, a mixture of somber and affectionate, and he smiles easily. "you got it." he reaches out to ruffle your hair, licking his lips as he heads for the door. "see you later."
you watch him go, and think that you'd rather have him by your side. but you keep that to yourself—so used to sewing your mouth shut.
("which do you want?" you ask satoru, who peers at the shelves over your shoulder. his close proximity does nothing to you, but he seems oddly giddy when he glances at your side profile.
"hmm, the white chocolate," he answers, low and hushed, like it's meant only for you to hear. you can feel the energy radiating off of him—can feel it shake your very soul.
"okay," you reply, reaching up for the box, but satoru beats you to it. he stretches up, towering over you and you shoot him an playful glare. he had gotten a growth spurt over the holidays and wouldn't let you forget it.
"aw this is so sweet of you," he teases, excited and all too pleased. you roll your eyes, hiding a smile.
"you're the one who's been bugging us for valentine's day chocolate."
"like it wasn't a good idea," he counters with a grin. "even if we're all single we should still get chocolate."
you snort in amusement, before turning to call out across the aisle. "suguru which one should i get you?"
the dark haired male meets your gaze, and the warmth of it sends a tickle through your stomach. he shakes his head with a gentle smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. "don't worry about it. you know i'm not big on sweets anyway."
you deflate—he smiles at you like he's happy you asked.
"you can give me his share," satoru interjects with a playful smirk, pressing his palm into your shoulder. you shake your head in exasperation.
"no way. i'm still going to get him something." your eyes dart across the shelves, before you reach up and pull down a box of unsweetened chocolates, tied with a red ribbon. "this should be good."
satoru eyes the box, and you glance at him. "suguru would like these right?"
"yeah," he shrugs, before crossing his arms. "as long as they aren't crazy sweet. he hates sweet stuff."
"okay good. then i'll get him these!" your smile stretches wide, and it doesn't go unnoticed.
"you're being awfully thoughtful today," satoru comments. you look at him quickly, quirking a brow.
"well i can't just get you one. you're not my only friend." you shoot back.
satoru grins. "guess that's true."
his arm takes its position around your shoulder as you head towards the counter.
"you were really particular about getting suguru something though. any special reason?" he pipes up, and you immediately go still, looking at him as you try to bite back an uncharacteristic surge of panic.
"of course not! i got something for everyone. i even got shoko the rum and raisin chocolates." you say quickly, fighting the urge to crumble under satoru's implications. "besides this was all your idea anyway!"
you dig into your wallet, pulling out exact change and smiling at the cashier, who puts all of your chocolates into a bag. you decide you'll gift them later, when you're in the comfort of the dorm.
"okay let's leave—" you pause when you turn around, breath catching.
because satoru is staring at you, an odd expression on his face. there's something behind his eyes—realization mixed with another emotion you can't quite place.
you're not sure if the expression excites you or scares you.)
you don't expect tsumiki to be so excited when you push open the door. she bounds out of her small bedroom, practically tripping over herself as she chants your name over excited giggles.
"hey kiddo, how was school?" you smile as she throws her arms around your waist. you pat her hair, making a mental note to take her for a haircut sometime soon.
"good! my friends gave me some chocolates today!" she's giddy as she says this, and you smile playfully.
"oh yeah? any boys?"
she immediately flusters at your quirked brow and teasing grin. "of course not!"
you laugh, patting her head again as you take a seat on the couch. "okay okay! where's your brother?"
you don't see the dark haired nine-year-old anywhere. normally he'd be doing his homework at the kitchen table—so much more diligent than you ever were at that age.
"he's in his room," tsumiki answers, and your eyes catch the sneaky bit of amusement in her face.
"doing what?" you ask curiously. she smothers a smile, shrugging.
"i'm not sure." she raises her voice to call out. "megumi! she's here!"
you can hear him grumbling down the hall, hear his little footsteps padding across the floor—affection swells within you.
you think back to the day satoru dragged you to meet him, and you internally remind yourself to thank him.
"hey gumi." you offer the kid a smile, though it falters when you notice the way his hands are hiding behind his back even as he mumbles a quiet greeting in return. "what's wrong?"
"i…" his voice catches, and you notice the heavy pink flush crawling up his neck and into his cheeks. "i just wanted to…"
he trails off again, and tsumiki nudges him discreetly. "just do it!" she whispers, not all that quietly. your eyes dart between them in confusion, and megumi tries to sink into his sweater's collar.
"megumi what's wrong? are you okay?" there's a note of concern you can't keep from your voice, and tsumiki gently pushes him closer to you. "did something happen?"
"no…" he mumbles, attempting to hide his face even more. "i just wanted to…give…"
you blink owlishly. "give…?"
megumi lets out an exasperated huff, brows pinching helplessly before thrusting his arms into your line of sight. "here!"
your lips part. in his little hands are a box of chocolates and a small stuffed bear.
"this is…" you trail off, taking them from his hands.
"he wanted to give you something for valentine's day! to show you how much he appreciates you!" tsumiki interjects, practically bouncing on her feet.
"no i didn't! it's just chocolates stop making it sound like such a big deal!" megumi immediately snaps, glaring at his sister. you can practically see his cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you think you will never stop caring for this kid. there's a tickle of a distant memory—small fists clenched around a backpack and deep green eyes that stare up at you in childish apprehension.
those same green eyes now sneak glances at you, assessing your reaction, and you decide to put him out of his misery.
"this is so sweet megumi. thank you!" you smile at him gratefully, touched beyond recognition. your heart swells with affection once more.
megumi shoves his hands into his pockets, a stubborn pout on his face that makes the fat of his cheeks look that much more endearing. "whatever, it's not a big deal."
tsumiki shoots him a glare, before turning to you with a wide smile. "he says that but he was really excited to get you something!"
megumi gapes at her, eyes going wide in betrayal before they narrow. "shut up! besides it was gojo-san who gave me the idea!"
you blink, before smiling somewhat gingerly. though there is a strange sort of satisfaction in you when you hear those words—the mention of satoru's name. as detached as he tries to remain, you know all too well how much more there is to his character.
"i thought gojo-san would suggest flowers," tsumiki ponders, reaching out to squish the little bear before looking at you curiously. "aren't flowers a typical gift to get someone for valentine's day?"
you shrug, smiling carelessly. "i guess so. but i'm glad he didn't because i don't really like flowe—"
it hits you. echoes of a conversation that occurred many many winters ago. it washes over you, a refreshing tide that cools your skin and tickles your face.
of course, it made sense now that you thought about it. there were no secrets between satoru and suguru after all.
a chime cuts through the silence. you glance down at your phone to see a casual text from the snowy haired wonderboy who has been by your side since the beginning, and you can't help but smile.
i'll be home in a minute :P
a promise that has remained constant all these years.
so you type back.
hurry back. waiting for you.
you smile to yourself, heart thudding heavily against your ribcage. "hm."
tsumiki quirks a brow. "what?"
"nothing," you shake your head, wetting your lips as you reach down to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. she smiles at you, stars in her eyes, and you think you'll remember that smile forever. "i was just thinking."
"about what?" megumi can't stop the curiosity from seeping into his voice as he peers at you. you grin, gently patting his head with the bear plushie and laughing when he swats you away.
"valentine's day," you answer, smiling at them as you stand up to head to the door. you already know who's about to knock. "i was just thinking that it's not too bad of a holiday."
Tumblr media
953 notes · View notes
jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months
Text
You and Eddie get into an argument about the girl he's giving guitar lessons too. Angst, misunderstandings and bad communication ensues.
Warnings. Mdni. 18+ only, angst. Miscommunication and misunderstandings. Idiots in love. Jealousy.
💞
You and Eddie had been together for a few months and up until this point you had never had a cross word.
He had been giving some girl guitar lessons, her name was Britney and she was gorgeous, amazingly cool and hilarious.
Tonight you had walked in on them laughing together and looking all cosy. Something in you kinda broke inside, it was ridiculous because you knew Eddie would never cheat, but you still felt your stomach bottom out.
Hearing Eddie gush about Britney and how metal she was and was like a rockstar on the guitar didn't help either.
You weren't proud of it but you were quiet and a little less warmer than you'd usually be and when Britney made excuses to leave, you were left wracked with guilt.
Eddie had rounded on you asking ''Why were you being such a bitch?" and that had made you even more pissed and the argument ensued.
"I'm sorry that walking in on my boyfriend looking so fucking cosy with someone else put me in a bad mood" you bite back at him and Eddie's big brown eyes darken in rage.
"You're being fucking ridiculous right now you know that?" it hurt hearing Eddie say that and you lashed out without thinking about what you were saying.
"Oh so I'm ridiculous because I hate seeing some girl make gooey eyes at my boyfriend, I'm such a bad girlfriend for being a little bit wary" Eddie shakes his head and the temperature in the room turns colder.
"Or it's obvious that you don't fucking trust me. So if you don't trust me then what's the fucking point?" your breath hitches and there's a deep pit of gloom and dread, in your stomach.
"Are you breaking up with me?" you whimper and want to take back everything you said, tell him that of course you trust him but you're so stunned, your heart is breaking.
Without another word you storm out before Eddie can confirm your worst fears.
❤️
Instead of going home you go straight to Nancy's who immediately digs out some ice cream and let's you cry out all the heartache, you both stay up most of the night but end up crashing around 5am.
Nancy is ready up and getting ready for school, you have the worst headache and just want to sleep a little longer so she leaves you to sleep, brings you up some pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice that Mrs Wheeler kindly made up for you.
In return you help her around the house, trying anything to take your mind of your heartache about Eddie.
When Nancy comes back home she gently explains that Eddie has been calling you and is worried that you haven't answered.
"I think you need to listen to what he has to say honey, he looks a wreck, I think he's driving Mike and the rest of the kids here after Hellfire so if you want to wait"
Nervously you nod and try to calm your anxious mind that Eddie is going to break up with you for good.
By the time that you hear Eddie's van and he's parked outside, you're on tenterhooks. Eddie looks like he's barely slept, his hair is messier than usual and he has the saddest look in his beautiful brown eyes.
That look makes you want to burst into tears there and then. You hate that you're the cause.
"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, his voice is rougher than normal, his hands are shaking and you reach out to steady them.
"I'm sorry too Eddie. I was a bitch and rude and of course I trust you, I trust you with my life and I hate that I made you think otherwise" his eyes fill with pain and he swallows.
"I shouldn't have called you a bitch. I've been a mess since you left and I was worried as shit when you weren't answering your phone, Mike told me you stayed here last night with Nance so I knew I would come here as soon as I could"
The tension slowly begins to leave your body and you feel soothed as Eddie pulls you in his arms
"Also Britney has just started dating Gareth, she was learning guitar to impress him and I was teaching her how to play his favourite song."
Fuck. "I'm so sorry Eddie" he softens and kisses your forehead.
"Even if she was interested I don't care. I'm not interested in her. How could you think I'd want her or anyone when I already have the most amazing, beautiful princess"
A warm fluttery feeling pools in your belly and you cuddle into Eddie and peer at him sadly.
"I just got insecure when you talked about how badass Britney was on the guitar and how metal she was" Eddie strokes your cheek and you melt into his touch.
"I'm sorry sweetheart. I didn't realise that was bothering you. Honestly yeah she's metal and pretty badass at the guitar but she's not you. She's not the one I'm head over heels in love with. You are"
"Oh" well shit, you'd definitely fucked up and misread everything. This is the first time Eddie has said I love you. It's a big deal for him, you know that and it is for you too.
"I'd never cheat on you or hurt you princess, I'm so in love with you" Tears roll down your cheeks and you kiss him fiercely.
"I love you too Eddie, I should have tried better at communicating with you" You sigh and cuddle into him, feeling calmer than you have in days.
"We both should learn to communicate better" he corrects you and you nod. It feels like a weight has been lifted of you.
"I really should apologise to Britney too" he hums in agreement.
"She thinks your really cool by the way and she put up with me constantly gushing about you"
Shit. Yeah you definitely have to apologise. In fact you make that your next mission first thing on Monday morning.
For now you were just going to bask in Eddie's love for a little while.
Britney as it turns out is a total sweetheart about the whole thing when you speak to her first thing on Monday and excitedly tells you about her dates with Gareth and how she played him the song Eddie taught her.
Not only do you gain the start of a friendship with Britney but you and Eddie are more in love than ever.
🫶
596 notes · View notes
jd07201990 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
I shouldn't have opened my mouth. All I had to do was just walk away, and I'd have been fine. Now, It takes 3 showers a day, and a can of Axe a week, just to control the apocalyptic funk of athlete that pours from my pits... and feet... ok, ok I just stink, ok?! And its all because I tried to stop Pops, a local Gym Owner, from bullying one of his regulars.
The massive man was absolutely raging, as he berated a Jock for skipping sessions, despite the young man explaining desperately that he couldn't miss any more assignments or he'd lose his scholarship. It didn't seem to quell Pops's anger, as I watched the man drag the boy to a bench, and force him to lift rep after rep, until the Jock was panting, begging for a break, promising not to miss any more sessions. 
I'd been walking on the treadmill the whole time, and decided to get involved. My first mistake. Walking up to Pops, I cleared my throat, and told him to lay off, that clearly the Jock was exhausted. Pops grabbed my collar and hoisted me up off the ground, before I could react, his face nearly against mine as he went off, first about my nosing about, then about how ridiculously thin I am. I stammered, my legs dangling, until Pops put me down, and smirked.
"You know, a little meat on those bones wouldn't hurt. Maybe with a few pounds, those big, sweaty dawgs you've got wouldn't look so clownish!"
My jaw dropped, a squirmed under his gaze, as a shiver went down my spine, and a dull, warm itch began in my feet. I don't know where he'd gotten the idea that my feet were clownish, I'm 5'7" with size 9.5s! But suddenly, my sneakers felt cramped, warm, with a dull humid dampness making it feel as if I'd stuffed my foot into a wet towel.
Then, I groaned, as a sharp pain shot down my ankles, and my sneakers burst open, revealing wide, reeking Jock-feet, at least size 13. A dense funk rose, and I gagged, the intense reek of Athlete poured from my torn shoes. Pops laughed heartily, then sneered. 
"And those pits! You'd think with hairy, sweaty pits like those, you'd be top of the roster! Not even Big Billy has pits as bad as yours! There's a bull inside you, just waiting to come out!"
Again, that cold shiver ran down my back, and my armpits felt as if fire ants were biting them. Hundreds of itchy bumps formed, then, hair sprouted, filling in and dampening until the stink of the locker room oozed out from them. I whimpered as I caught the scent. Looking up at Pops, I begged.
"Please! Don't do this! You gotta undo this! I'm not a Jock!"
Pops laughed, taking both my shoulders in his massive rough hands, and pushed me down onto a bench, taking my arms and forcing them up onto the bar. My pits were fully on display as he growled.
"Lift. Don't stop until I come back, or those pits and feet will be the least of your worries."
I believed him, and tried to pull the bar down, barely moving the weights. Pops facepalmed, moved to a backpack next to a mountainous young brute lifting what had to be the weight of a small car. He fished out a protein shake, pressed the nozzle to my lips, and forced me to guzzle a few mouthfuls, pulling it away as I heard my stomach gurgle. 
I hiccuped, then burped, as my body seemed to warm, sweat forming, soaking down my shirt. Then, muscle began to swell under my skin, not huge, round bulk, but enough to look as if I'd been hitting the gym for several months, not days. When it settled, I must've gained 10 lbs, all of it hard muscle. When I pulled the bar down this time, it wasn't easy, but I wasn't lifted off the seat this time. Again and again I tested my new size, and Pops grinned. giving my thicker shoulder a punch. 
"I'll make an athlete out of you yet. Like it or not, you're gonna be one of Pops's boys! No one mouth's off to pop, unless they've earned it here at my gym! got it!"
I wanted to be defiant, to insult him, or run, but the look in his eye told me if I so much as thought about leaving, I'd be waddling out of here, sideways through the door, looking like the Behemoth that Pops had taken the shake from! I gulped, looked down, and forced myself to lift. Maybe if Pops is happy, he'll at least tone down the absolute fog of stink that screams, "Big Dumb Jock" from a mile away!
564 notes · View notes
thelov3lybookworm · 4 days
Text
Juice Stains
Summary: A day alone with the babe. What could go wrong?
•○●⛦●○•
A/n: because @secret-third-thing's this post inspired me to have eris washing socks lol you can all thank her for inspiring me 🤭
anyways, enjoyy!!
Tumblr media
No one told Eris that giving a two year old child a glass of juice would result in him cursing his own existence.
His wife had gone to visit her friend in summer court, only just getting the chance to leave Amelia in his care since her birth. Eris had forced her to go himself, practically spewing a speech to get her nerves to calm.
Oh how he regretted that now as he rubbed the tiny fabric against itself in his hands, the water constantly running proving to be of no help against the stubborn stain of the orange juice spilled on the sock.
And the culprit of this crime? She was happily laughing away as she watched her father suffer for her actions.
Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Eris sighed, wondering how the hell Y/n handled situations like this. His back was screaming in pain, his fingers cramping after long moments of clutching at the tiny sock of his daughter.
The stain simply refused to come off, only adding to the list of things Eris was frustrated about as he leaned back, trying to straighten his back and get rid of at least some of the pain, his eyes wandering around the room.
It was a mess, and that was putting it lightly.
On the bed lay the heap of little clothes Eris had been looking through earlier to dress his little princess after her bath, wanting to pick the most comfortable and fashionable outfit suitable for someone so important.
On the couch and in front of it lay Amelia's toys, thrown around in the fit of rage she'd been before he handed her the juice.
Which, somehow, looked like the worst decision he'd made in his life.
The glass lay abandoned on the floor next to Amelia, who was chewing on her mitten like it was the tastiest fabric in the world, juice still pooled on the floor, slowly spreading.
Releasing a breath of frustration, Eris wrung the sock in his hand, then turned and stalked over to where Amelia sat, the mitten half hanging out of her mouth, her hand covered in saliva from when she had been trying to eat herself.
Cannibalism?
Eris knew it was ridiculous to think that, but how was he to shut his mind down when he was too tired to even blink?
"Come on, its nap time." He muttered lowly, leaning down to gather Amelia in his arms, who offered him a toothy grin for his suffering.
Despite her making him work so much, he could not stay mad. Hell, he could not even bring himself to be irritated or fault her for his tiredness. She was too adorable for that.
As he slowly set her down on her back on the fluffy mattress, uncaring that she was laying diagonally on the bed, he let himself smile at her.
"Are you happy after making daddy work so much?"
She squealed as he buried his face in her neck, giggling and trying to push him away when he tried to bite at her cheek.
"You deserve that punishment, you know that right?"
Her eyes twinkled back at him, and he sighed, settling down next to her, his body from the knee down hanging off.
"I'm resting a little before mommy returns. Remind me to clean up before then, will you?"
He patted her back, gently humming a tune to get her to sleep as she babbled out an answer he was too tired to even try and decipher. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, even though she was the one who should have been sleeping.
No, she stayed awake, talking to herself and playing with the wet sock he still had in his hand and giggling at the wet splat the material made when she slapped it onto her father's face.
She did not, in fact, wake him up before mommy arrived.
Tumblr media
Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo
@sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175
@starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered
@cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar @girlswithimagination
@sunnyspycat
Eris Vanserra Taglist: @fell-in-luvs @azrielsmate3 @tele86 @caraaaaugh
292 notes · View notes
famwhy · 10 months
Text
Bereavement (2)
noun
/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse
42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader
Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?
Note: I can't—for the life of me—believe how many notes the first part got after just a few days of being out, you guys are actually insane. Thank you all so much. And thank you too, Kingpin, for giving me the idea in the first place lmao. (Do me a huge solid and lemme know if any of my Spanish needs some work, I studied it for 3 years but it's been over a year since it's been put to practice so I'm a little rusty)
Tumblr media
Miles would never drop you, not in a million years—you knew that.
Something had stopped him, forced him to let go as he froze in time; in an assortment of colours he couldn't control—that was how you found yourself where you were now—free-falling to your death for what was perhaps the second time in your life.
"Y/N!"
It was a lot scarier the first time—you had to admit—when you fell from the glass room right beside the huge collider more than a year ago. At the time, Miles had insisted you stay away from his spider business for your own safety, but you—being you—followed him down anyway.
That was your first mistake.
Your second—however—came in the form of letting Kingpin know you were there after allowing quite the ridiculous sneeze out of your mouth. And once he saw you, it wasn't hard for him to pick you up and throw you through the shattered glass in his rage and dismay of his failed plan.
Miles had his back completely turned to you when it happened, and yet—somehow—he was the first to whip his head around and notice your quickly descending form.
"Y/N!"
You had come so close to the ground—seconds away from touching it—when that familiar warmth wrapped its way around your waist, carrying you through the wind to prop you onto your own little cloud of safety.
Ever since then, Miles refused to leave your side. He took you out on every mission he went to—pretty much every news station had you pinned down as 'Spiderman's girl' and he never bothered to correct them.
So even as Gwen went off to another dimension, Miles grabbed you before following after. Even as he was invited to the headquarters of this 'spider society', he refused to go without them also granting you permission inside too.
When you asked him why he went to such lengths for you, he simply replied, "I almost lost you once while being in the same dimension as you, if you think I'm going to let it even come close to happening again, you've got another thing coming."
So no, you didn't find the second time you were falling to your death all that scary. Not when you knew Miles would save you—
"I've got you, cariño."
—you just didn't exactly know that it would be the other one that did.
His arms were wound tightly around the underside of your knees and upper back—carrying you so intimately, looking at you with so much love in his eyes, you found yourself growing slightly flustered.
...okay, very flustered.
"Oh, Cariño," as he spoke, he didn't lose the breath in his tone—the gentle air of disbelief he took on since your arrival, "you're here. I can't believe it—you're here. Te extrañé mucho." ("I missed you so much.")
You were speechless, gaping up at him like a clueless fish—what else could you do? You were being held in the arms of a copy of your best friend after he basically just confessed to you because the 'you' in this universe was apparently dead.
Though, luckily for you, there was no need to say a word for he continued speaking with those soft, fond eyes, "I missed your smile and your laugh. I missed how you always used to tug me around whenever something caught your eye... and how you would go on and on about whatever show was your new obsession of the month. You were always so... pretty when you spoke passionately.
"Speak for me, cariño," he continued, "let me hear that pretty voice of yours again."
"I—" you were stuttering—why were you stuttering?—"I, uh..."
Pull yourself together, Y/N.
"Miles—"
"Ah, I just realised how much I missed the way you say my name."
"—guh!" How the hell was he spitting such smooth lines? "Miles! Just listen for a minute, okay?!"
"Of course, mamí."
"I— I'm not who you think I am. I mean, I am Y/N but I'm not your Y/N. And you're not my Miles."
As the words came tumbling out your mouth, the boy's—this earth's Miles'—lips tugged down, gaze hardening and grip around you ever-so-slowly growing tighter.
"Don't be silly, mamí, of course I'm your Miles. I always have been and always will be."
Your brows furrowed and your eyes trailed to the view behind him, moving rapidly as you tried to locate your best friend. Though, soon, your view of the sky was cut off by the male with braids once more.
"What are you doing?" A growl. "Stop looking for him, look at me. I'm right here. He dropped you."
"He glitched! This isn't his world so of course he would, it wasn't his fault!"
You were quick to defend him—he was your best friend so of course you were. There was no way you were having anyone accuse him of anything negative, even himself.
"Cariño, you almost died. Again. He can't take care of you." Miles narrowed his eyes, as if just the thought pissed him off; as if he had the right to be pissed off.
"Oh what?" You scoffed. "And you can? I'm my own person, I don't need to be taken care of."
Stubbornly, you found yourself pulling away from him—or well, attempting to at least, he didn't seem to want to let you though, judging by the way his claws slowly began to dig into you a little.
His eyes were narrowed and his lips were tugged down, gaze seeming to pierce through you—as though he was trying to use you as a vessel to glare at the person he was really mad at.
Though, soon, the expression was gone, replaced by sullen eyes and an almost-far-away look—glossed over in a cloudy haze full of what you could only assume to be the grand despair that was grief; grief over a loss so great, it would pain someone to even admit it ever happened.
"Cariño, please. I don't want to argue with you, I just got you back. Please."
The look on his face, the crack in his voice—it was all too much, you almost couldn't stomach it, and soon, your arms loosened up as you lost the will to pull away.
"Miles," you whispered, "I... I'm really sorry—"
"Don't be, you're here with me now, aren't you? We can make up for all that lost time."
"I can't." Your vision blurred as you shook your head from side-to-side. "I'm sorry, I can't."
For a moment, all was silent. No words were exchanged, leaving only the strong wind to howl in your ears; to warn you of your grave mistake and whisper taunts into your ears. Then—
"It's because of him, isn't it?"
You almost couldn't muster words. "Huh?"
"The other me—it's because of him that you won't stay with me, isn't it?"
The look in his eyes was something of a dark nature, swirling with malice; with hate so inextricibly deep, you almost couldn't believe your own eyes—because... because there was just no way, right? There was no way your Miles (or any other Miles for that matter) could exhibit such a lethal level of loathing towards anyone...
"If I get rid of him, it won't be so much of a problem anymore... sí?"
...or was there?
@justmare, @majestichugs, @milktealvrr, @ladyfairenvale, @sakura-onesan, @haunted-pass, @phoenixgurl030, @stupendousnightmaretrash, @ultimate-geek14, @liaaa-1, @sluslutts, @angrypomeranianwifey, @thatbeanieboss, @kkate8008, @lilslmao, @honeydewpie, @elenasstxarr, @sloverr, @quartzangel0, @crystalsinwater, @astrosdelululand, @sflame15-blog, @nightshxdex, @dottoresgarden, @crowshiny, @teamowolverine, @bangtannie7, @k0la22, @kissmxcheek, @myloveforreading, @jared-oranges, @shisuishoe, @veryfancydoilies, @sunshinesetsstuff, @lovefks, @omg-the-nutella-queen, @hazzapotter, @levanneisdumb, @angie2274, @blueberrystigma
2K notes · View notes
kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months
Note
the yandere x yandere ask and your answer got me going maaaaaaad....pleeeease just one little story, just a snippet I beeeeg you...
I think I am addicted to your writing ❤️‍🔥
Ok ok you here's your little snippet I am not immune to begging (I am weak)
Word count: 1.3 k Tags/warnings: 18+ only, Yandere!König x Yandere!Reader, situationship with toxic König, light bondage, slight degradation, crazy idiots in love A/N: *sigh* for God's sake.
"No."
Your refusal echoes in the empty hall as you rush toward your room. The one you are talking to is marching right behind you… A giant Austrian killer, a one-man fucking machine, and a terror to women.
You know you shouldn't have said it today – hissed bitterly on the comms how everyone knows König is good with a gun after the new girl commented on what a good shot your foreign lover was. 
You wanted to shoot that girl, and now hated yourself for it. Hated - and loved - how a certain lovesick madman was again following you like an oversized puppy in heat. Had followed you ever since you praised his killing skills (you were the first girl to do that, goddammit), and agreed to go on a date with him. At a gun range, no less.
You try to ignore how your neck tingles as you open the door to your room. Out of breath, you turn to slam it shut, but a strong hand shoots to prevent your strength. It stops the door from moving even an inch.
"No," you repeat while looking up at the blazing blue eyes.
How can such a cold stare scorch your skin? How can those eyes burn your very reason to a crisp…?
"I'll visit you after silence then," he promises darkly, and the tingles turn into a downright shiver.
"No you won't. I'll lock my door."
"I'll break in."
"...You're fucking crazy !"
"You have no idea, Liebling." He steals a peek down at your chest, rising and falling like a wave because you are so riled. You can almost hear how he licks his lips under that hood. "I have to return your strings, oder?"
Rage and thrill fight for your attention as you wrinkle your nose in disgust.
"You–you took my…" you gasp, hating the way you sound like a pearl-clutching woman appalled by such indecency. Truth is, you are appalled. And aroused. But you're not a pearl-clutching woman.
"Pervert," you spit the word out with hot pride. He doesn't flinch, doesn't even blink at your insult.
"Ist das so? And who wanted me to tie her up last night? Hmm?"
Shit... Your cheeks pang with heat. 
Tight moans and pleas of "Use that paracord on me," and "Fuck me like I'm your prisoner," flood your mind, as does his low growl of "You're mistaken, Liebling. This is no play. You are my prisoner."
You thought he would've tied you into a bed, but no: this pervy lunatic tied your hands to the ceiling, not tight, but tight enough to render you helpless as he gave you a 15-minute edging session with his tongue, followed by more than just one profound fucking session with that ridiculously long Austrian cock.
He raised you in his lap and fucked into you from standing, took you from behind like an animal, used your body any way he wanted to until you were dumb and full of his cum. 
He pulled orgasms, quivering breaths and lewd moans out of you while whispering painfully sweet things in your ear – then left you hanging there after he was satisfied. You thought he went to get a towel, which he did... but he also went to get himself a beer. 
He drank that pilsner in front of you, wearing only and only that stupid black hood. Surrounded by his guns and knives, this man looked like a god of war: muscles sheened in sweat, heavy cock glistening with your juices, looking at you with smug pride as the warm seed ran down your thighs.
"Let me down," you finally broke before him, pouting and throbbing from the multiple orgasms he just gave you.
"Ask nicely, Liebling."
"Please, let me down… My wrists hurt."
He came to release you from that rope immediately, carried you to his bed, and cooed what a good girl you were, taking his cock so many times like you were made for it. Cleaned you up with a warm, wet towel and promised he would bring you food from the mess if you promised to stay put. (You promised, and he did.) He even offered you a sip of that yucky beer and asked if his prisoner had everything she needed.
But what's worst is that he dares to shame you for what happened last night.
"What kind of a woman wants to be used like that...? You're dirty," he slurs, eyes flashing with desire.
"You're the one who's dirty," you half yell, then snap your mouth shut, knowing half the barracks just heard your announcement.
He just tilts his head as if it's quite normal to have an argument about who's more fucked up in the middle of an echoing hall.
"Eh? I bet you're wet even now." His voice is high and tight from anticipation. "Shall I make an inspection?"
"I will slap you if you do that," you declare with a lift of your chin. Your shoulders draw back and your hand squeezes into a fist, ready to deliver on that threat.
He looks down at your tiny paw – nothing escapes him, not even the slightest movement at the corner of his eye. But when he looks back at you again, his eyes are filled with a sinful dare. 
"I'm warning you. If you come inside, I'll–"
He steps forward immediately and catches your punch like it's only a meager leaf in his way. You pout furiously as you send another fist flying, aiming for that hood – quite lousily, to be honest. Of course he catches that too, then spins you around like you two are dancing jive and forces you against a wall with his body.
It's the softest, most loving little shove and pin, and the only thing that's knocked out of air is your pride as his groin presses against your ass and shoves up, hard enough to force you up on your toes. 
"You're not a woman, you're a wildcat," he rasps in your ear as the warm darkness of the hood brushes your neck. His hand rests on the wall next to your face like a warning not to squirm while the other is already traveling up the back of your thigh. 
He's going to make that inspection, no doubt, shove his hand beneath your belt and into your camos. See if you're wearing another pair of "filthy strings" – or that's what this crazy dude calls the revealing underwear he says is "not suitable for decent women."
The funniest thing is that you started wearing them mainly because they clearly drive him mad...
"König..." you moan your want into the air as he slips that hand down your pants. Your hands got trapped between the wall and your chest as he pressed you there, but you wouldn't try to prevent him even if they were free. 
You want to tell him how good he is with his guns, all of them. You want to tell him that you hate the new girl. You want to tell him you'll be his prisoner, always…
He takes a good, long sniff of your neck, causing your ass to grind against the hard bulge in his pants. He doesn't like the smell of gunpowder on you, doesn't like it that you're almost as good with a rifle and a scope as him. He wants to take you away from all harm and make you his little wife. 
(The only harm that has ever fallen upon you is this crazy titan who makes love to you like it's the end of the world.)
"Kleine Wildkatze," he murmurs softly in your ear while agile fingers find your soaked cotton, the fragile shield between lust and madness. "I will tame you. Don't you worry about that. One day you will be purring in my lap..."
1K notes · View notes
monarchofdreams · 5 months
Text
Familial
Tumblr media
This is my grandson, Joseph. He has always taken care of me since he was a little boy. I would always appreciate him helping me clean the house, walk to the kitchen, or even buy me groceries. When he was young, he loved to play sports. He'd say he'd grow big and strong just so he could help me. I was always so proud of him when he showed me his medals and trophies. Unfortunately, I was always too old and frail to see his football games. He did well with academics as well. He was athletic, intelligent, and not to mention his looks, but he was also gorgeous. I love him so much, but it bothered me to see him lonely. I mean, he's very popular and has plenty of friends. However, even with his good looks and charm, he doesn't have the confidence to ask a girl out. He would always say that he would never get a girl or they wouldn't want to date him. That's just ridiculous! He is wasting those amazing genetics. If I had thise looks back in my day, I'd have women from all over town begging to get into my pants. Fast forward a few years, I was stuck in a hospital bed waiting to kick the bucket, and Joseph was taking care of me. He's a grown adult with his own life, yet he never left me behind. He was devastated when I passed away. He locked himself in his room for days just to cry. I reached out to comfort him, but suddenly, in that moment, everything went blank.
Tumblr media
Slowly, sound starts to return, and I can feel a draft against my skin, across my entire body. As I slowly open my eyes, I realize I am in my grandson's apartment. As I take in my new surroundings, my eyes drift toward my large arms and hands... they aren't mine! They are nicely tanned and without a wrinkle in sight! I have tattoos decorating my now bulging biceps. I am only wearing a pair of Nike briefs, fully exposed, leaving little to the imagination. I quickly ran to the bathroom, and to my disbelief, I was greeted by Joseph's reflection, displaying a shocked expression, but it was not long until that confusion shifted into curiosity and arousal.
Tumblr media
I started to gently touch the soft skin of my face and torso, which was now blanketed in thick slabs of muscle mass. My hands glided down my chest, fondling my massive pecs and washboard abs. As I felt myself up, a massive bulge started begging for attention. I bit my lip as my hands began to move down, as if they had a mind of their own. My fingers glide across my pecs, brushing against my firm nipples. My body began to shudder the more I touched them. Damn, they are very sensitive. I felt my raging cock stiffen against my briefs, and a damp spot started to form. Without wasting more time, I quickly reached down the damp briefs, my hand breaking past webs of pre built up from the past few minutes. My fingers wrap around my manhood, but just barely. Holy shit, I am massive. I take my thumb nad massage my tip, feeling more slick juice coating my hands. Without warning, my hips suddenly buck forward, causing a soft masculine moan to escape my lips.
Tumblr media
I haven't felt this good in years, and I am hungry for more. I continue to grind my cock against my massive rough hands, my breathing growing heavier with each pump. I can feel pressure building up as I get closer to finishing, but I won't allow this to end so soon. I release my hand from its cum soaked prison, and take a wiff of my spunk. It reaks of the musk of a true man. I feel my cock soften just enough to get my briefs to loosen its grip. I pull down the elastic, letting my 8 inches of pure manhood to spring out and breathe, dripping with white spunk and sweat. I know I'm taking this too far, violating Joseph's body, but I can't control myself. I wrapped my hand once again around my shaft and began pumping my that dick. As I pump, it continues to inflate an extra 2 inches in my hands. My rough hands stroke the ridges of my fuckstick, driving me insane with each pass. "Ooof. Oh fuck, yes..." My moans of pleasure grow louder and louder. Hearing the sexy voice of my grandson spout lude words from my mouth and feeling the base of his vocal chords vibrate within my throat is sending me over the edge. More and more pressure begin to build up as I feel cum rise up my piping hot rod. Nothing else mattered right now. Only thoughts of sex and pleasure filled my mind. My grandson's well-being was no longer a concern. "This is my body, Joseph. You love your grandpa, right? So I'm sure you'll be thrilled if I stay. You like that, don’t you? Ohhh, yes. Unnghh, " I yelp out in my new sexy voice as I reach my limit. "Im coming. Oh yes, baby, I'm coming. Nnnngg..." It was not long until my cock finally erupted, my white juice coating my sweaty body. The smell of musk continued to turn me on, and without hesitation, I brought my cum cover hand to my mouth, licking my fingers clean. The thick juices slid down my throat as I enjoyed the salty taste of my youth. My dick was still rock hard and leaking. I can really go for a second serving.
Tumblr media
656 notes · View notes
shdysders · 2 months
Text
letters with grief
pairing: jenna ortega & female!reader
summary: in which jenna visits you, with a letter.
word count: 2k
warnings: mentions of verbal fights & car accident
author’s note: i actually really like this one, lmk if something doesn’t make sense.
Tumblr media
The air was all crisp and cool, the trees were wearing their fiery coats of orange, red, and yellow, and the breeze danced through the leaves.
The gentle wind tousling Jenna's hair, making it fall in front of her face, obstructing her view of the gravel path she walked on were a few orange leafs had made its appearance.
"Hello gorgeous.." Jenna said, receiving no answer except for the autumn breeze that blew heavier onto her figure.
She carefully lowered herself onto the velvety carpet of autumn's golden blades, crossing her legs. Hands digging in the pockets of her jacket. Your jacket.
"I..uhm.. I wrote a letter..for you" She sniffled, her nose growing red and runny from the cold weather and the inappropriate garments for the fall.
Jenna carefully unfolded the letter, and as the paper unfurled, a gentle symphony of whispers filled the air, captivating her senses.
The piece of paper revealed the long text, the letters were messy and all over the place, looking like a jumbled puzzle, with words scattered and tangled like a messy room.
A chuckle erupted from Jenna's mouth as she could hear you giggle and make fun of her gibberish handwriting, like you always did. Every single time she wrote the grocery list or anything at all, you would joke and make small comments about her sloppy writing.
"I know.." Jenna smiled softly, tucking her brown hair behind her ears. "Who even writes letters anymore?.." She scrunched her nose, your laughter basically echoing in her eardrums.
She fiddled with the letter, almost considering the option of just not reading it at all, however she knew she had to. Otherwise she would never get this out, which meant she would have to feel this closed feeling within her at all times, and Jenna knew she couldn't live with that.
"But.. I didn't know how else I'd get this out of my head.." She continued.
A year ago, Jenna would be laughing at what she was doing in this moment, she would've felt ridiculous. Talking about a handwritten letter when she knew she wouldn't get any answers.
However she pushed those thoughts away, exhaling deeply before her shaky voice began appearing.
"I'm so sorry that the fame affected you and your family as well.." Jenna could already feel tears burning in her eyes, just the thought of you made her nose start to run uncontrollably, how could she ever tell you all of the things the letter contained?
Jenna knew very well that the fame would have a big influence on you, she had told you that multiple times before you became an official couple. But when she had explained it; she meant that the paparazzi and the headlines could be the influence, not that she would be it herself.
Everybody knew relationships in the spotlight were complicated, it was common knowledge. Even Jenna knew that. But she had never thought about what the complications might've been based on. In fact, she couldn't even tell when the conflicts actually happened.
Jenna never knew where all of the rage came from. It might've been stress, anxiety or something completely unrelated to any of those, regardless of the underlying reasons, she was aware that her actions towards you were inexcusable.
She would never be able to forgive herself for having those outbursts at you. You were never doing anything wrong. Never.
You would wait up for her whenever she was having late night shootings. You would prepare nice meals for her whenever she arrived home, so she wouldn't go to sleep with an empty stomach. You would hold her tight and brush your fingers through her hair until she fell asleep, knowing she always had a hard time sleeping alone.
You did everything she could've possibly asked for, but Jenna never gave anything back.
She hadn't realized it at first. Not until she had scared you so badly that you had stormed out of your shared apartment.
Jenna would arrive home, scream at you for things you couldn't control, start unnecessary arguments that were either non-existent or non-current or sometimes ignore you fully.
She would call you repulsive things just because you didn't talk back, sometimes even blaming you for the stress situations she met at her job.
You didn't know what was happening to her, watching her turn from this sweet loving girlfriend, to a ticking bomb who would explode any moment without any reason.
She would burst at you for being quiet, but she would also rage if you were too talkative. You had no idea how to act around her, she was never going to be pleased.
Jenna did know that she was being unusually unpleasant to be around. Although she had thought that it was only temporarily, that it would disappear when she finished wrapping the stress filled projects she was working on.
She wanted to be better. She wanted to be better for you. She knew you deserved way more than what she was giving you. Despite she never made an effort to get better. Even though she wanted to.
Yet that night. Everything had flipped.
"You were right.." Jenna mustered a laugh, but vulnerability seeped through, turning it into an awkward melody, while her tears danced, trying to wipe them away.
"I needed real help." She continued, swallowing the lump in her throat. Fiddling with the edge of the paper. "Like you told me."
The pit in Jenna's stomach got deeper when she realized that you had been right the whole time.
When Jenna had arrived home that night, you had been situated in the couch, waiting for her, like you always did. However, something had been different. The way you tensed when Jenna came home, the way your hands were almost shaking.
Jenna was trying to keep her outburst within her this time. She noticed you were scared, so she knew that was for the best.
But something inside of her switched when you had opened your mouth.
You had told her that you thought it would be suitable for Jenna to seek help for her recent outbursts and raging personality. You thought that if she would be able to talk about her feelings, maybe she wouldn't take them out on you.
Obviously, you were wrong. It had been the complete opposite.
The rage and stress had taken over Jenna's body, making her scream and ramble stuff she didn't know existed in her.
She couldn't remember everything she had said. But the things she could reminisce were things that almost made her feel the need to throw up.
You had watched Jenna with eyes wide open from fear, backing away from her, afraid that she would eventually get the idea to hit you.
You had apologized repeatedly while she was screaming at you, telling you everything she thought you 'had done wrong' and why you should've been the one seeking help instead.
Eventually, she had screamed for you to get out of the apartment, that she couldn't stand the look of you and didn't want to see you again. You couldn't do anything else but follow her screaming instructions, too afraid to revolt and see what she would do next.
When you had left, Jenna had tried to calm herself down. She had planned on apologizing to you when she got back, because she knew you would. Sure, she had been a bitch, but she was sure you would still come back. Right?
"I just.." Jenna exhaled and closed her eyes, trying to imagine your face in front of her, like that would make the letter easier to read out.
"I wanted you to know that what happened afterwards had nothing to do with you.."
The tears began rolling faster down her cheeks as Jenna recalled the thousands of text messages she had sent you that night. When she didn't receive an answer to any of them, she just thought that you were probably still upset.
But when evening time arrived and you had yet to arrive home, she began to feel worried; you had never been gone for the night whenever she raged at you. Maybe she pushed you too far? She couldn't tell, since she couldn't remember half the things she had said.
She didn't remember anything that had exploded out of her mouth. She didn't remember telling you that she couldn't stand the sight of you, when she was the one in the wrong.
The things she did remember was how the local police departments number had popped up on her phone, and how she had answered the call with a shaky voice and hands.
She remembered dropping the phone on the floor, the screen almost breaking due the hard tiles.
She remembered rushing to the hospital the second she heard you were there. She remembered running into the building, hearing the nurses explain that your survivor chances were low due the extreme crash.
You had been hit. By a drunk truck driver. He had survived. Almost leaving the scene with no injuries.
You weren't that lucky.
You didn't make it.
It had been revealed later that you had zero chances of living. The staff had just told her that you did because they wanted her to think that. But in reality, you were already unconscious when they arrived at the scene.
Jenna never got the chance to see you again. Just like her raging wishes had said.
That's why everything that happened wasn't your fault. It was all hers.
Jenna couldn't live with herself knowing you passed thinking she hated you. Nothing felt right when you weren't around.
When she now arrives home at night, the apartment is empty. There's no warmth when she walks into the hall, no embrace or cooked dinner, no lit candles except for the ones that remained lit next to the photo of you.
She hated thinking of it. The fact that you were gone. You weren't with her anymore, and you never would be.
Yet, at the same time she felt like that was what she deserved. She treated you like a burden, she told you that you were a burden. So why would she have the rights to feel sorrowful?
Jenna didn't deserve you. She knew that. That's why she liked to think that your soul went somewhere better than here.
You were too nice for this world. You had to be somewhere else.
You used write letters to Jenna every month, telling her your favorite things about her and how much you loved her. The letters lessened when she got so mad every night.
And now she'd never get them anymore.
Jenna let out a sob as she thought of you. The tears staining the letter. "I'm so sorry you can't be here..here where you wanted to be." Her voice was quivering, shaky breaths coming out.
Your zest for life was something Jenna always admired in you. Always seeing the positive side and wanting the best for everyone. Even if they did something horrible to you.
And it was for that reason Jenna knew that you probably would've forgiven her for this too. Even though it got you killed.
"I can feel you everywhere I go." Jenna wiped her streaming tears with the sleeve of her shirt, trying to prevent the salty water on the paper to smudge out the letters.
Your laugh, your smile, your love and touch. It was everywhere with her. Every single thing about you that she loved so dearly, the things that she didn't appreciate in the last months she had with you.
She had taken everything with you for granted.
If she closed her eyes hard enough at night, she could see you, hear you, and feel you, the way you were, the way you were always meant to be.
Jenna knew she couldn't get by without you. But she knew she deserved to live in pain for the rest of her life, for what she did to you.
No matter how much work and interviews she buried herself in, no matter how much she cried and begged for you to come back, no matter how many times she'd visit your grave and beg for forgiveness, you'd always be gone.
"I love you. And I'm sorry.."
337 notes · View notes
ruh--roh-raggy · 5 months
Text
This (William Afton x Fem! Reader SMUT)
Tumblr media
Hello! Wow, I can honestly say I wasn't expecting that big of a response on my first fic so thank all of you so much!! I've got brain rot real bad about this man, so expect a lot of fics for him. Now, onto the fun part. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! ADULT CONTENT AHEAD, 18+ FIC AHEAD, MDNI, age gap (reader is in college, William is in his 40's/50's), jealous William, hinted that he killed your terrible coworker if you squint, thigh riding, unprotected sex, pnv sex, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, some spanking but it's nothing too intense, size difference (I just love me a big man what can I say?), cock warming, Reader is 5'0/152cm because that's how tall I am, whoops) dom William, slight degradation, definite praise, pining, domestic!William, OOC William, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, use of pet names sweetheart, honey, pretty little thing, bunny (I think that's everything, please let me know if I forgot any tags!)
Word count: 8,058
You can find my Masterlist here!
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You tapped softly on your boss’s half open door. You heard him finish up a phone call, the receiver clicking as he hung up. “Come on in.” He calls cheerfully. You push open the door, his gaze softening as it landed on you.
“Mr. Afton, can I talk to you really quick?” You ask nervously, anxiously tracing over the cold brass doorknob with your finger.
“Of course you can. Shut the door, come on in.” You do as he says, you swallow thickly as the door clicks shut behind you. You sat in one of the stiff pizzaria chairs he had at his desk, the once vibrant clumps of geometric shapes beginning to fade with age. “What can I do for you sweetheart?” He folds his hands in front of him as he shoots you a small smile. You always found yourself growing flustered under his gaze, your eyes darted to the nameplate that sat on his desk, tracing over the neat gold letters as you tried to steady your pounding heart.
“I was just wondering if you could stop scheduling me with Kyle?” You mutter, cursing internally at how stupid your request sounded.
“What happened? He didn't hurt you, did he?” The sudden flash of anger in his voice was unmistakable.
“No, nothing like that. It just feels like he always goes out of his way to give me the worst jobs. A kid throws up in the ball pit, I have to clean it up. A parent gets too drunk and trashes a table, I'm the one on my hands and knees making sure there's no fragments of glass still stuck in the carpet. I know this probably sounds ridiculous, I'm not trying to start problems-”
“(Y/N).” His gentle tone makes you freeze. Your eyes drift up to meet his. He reaches across his desk, holding his hand out for you. You tentatively slip your hand into his, your breath shaky as you watch him trail his thumb over your knuckles. His skin was so warm, you looked so small and delicate compared to him. “I'll deal with Kyle, okay? You're too pretty to be doing those jobs anyways.” You can't help but blush as he winks at you. He stands up, his height allowing him to tower over you as he walks you to the door, his hand on the small of your back. “Have a good night sweetheart, I'll see you tomorrow.” He smiles down at you.
“Goodnight, Mr. Afton.” You smile coyly at him as you turn to leave. He leans against the door way, his arms crossing over his chest as he scans over the pizzeria.
“Kyle!” He barks. “Come see me at the end of your shift bud, we need to have a little chat.” You couldn't keep the smile off your face as you pushed out of the building.
When you came back the next day you expected to see Kyle seething with rage over whatever punishment Mr. Afton had dished out, but he was nowhere to be found. You wandered back towards your boss’ office, wanting to let him know you had arrived to start opening. “There's my favorite girl.” He grins as you poke your head through the doorway. “Come sit, I took care of opening prep, you relax.” He nods in the direction of one of the chairs across from him. He never takes his eyes off of you as you sit rigidly in the seat. “You look tired, would you like some coffee?”
“Oh, you don't have to trouble yourself.” He attempts to wave you off, both of your actions cut short by the sound of your stomach rumbling. “Excuse me.” You look away awkwardly.
“I guess something a little more substantial than coffee is in order here.” He stands, motioning for you to follow him. You trail behind him as he leads you into the kitchen, the smell of the greasy premade pepperoni pizza baking in the oven practically making your mouth water. He grabs the wooden peel, expertly flicking the pizza onto it and retrieving it from the industrial sized oven. “So you haven't eaten and you look exhausted.” You cringed slightly as you waited for him to chastise you, knowing how bad it looked that you weren't showing up to your job with your best foot forward. He sets the pizza on a metal tray, leaving it to cool as his focus directs itself onto you. He takes a few long, agonizingly slow strides towards you. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” You found yourself immediately growing flustered at the sound of the familiar pet name. Mr. Afton had been using the endearment since you had started, yet hearing it roll so effortlessly off of his tongue never failed to make your cheeks grow warm and arousal to pool between your legs.
“Yeah, it's stupid.” You try to brush your earlier problems of the day away, not wanting to bring attention to what you believed would come off as a childish reason to be upset. Seeing the concerned looks in your boss’ eyes prompted you to continue. “I got into a fight with my roommate today and I ran out of time to eat because we were arguing. I'm sorry-”
“Sweetheart, you don't have to apologize.” A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice. “I'm worried, not upset.” His shoes enter your line of sight, which was currently trained on the floor, as he steps in front of you. A set of warm fingers ghost over the skin of your cheek, pushing back a stray tendril of hair that had fallen out of your messy attempt at tying it back. You slowly meet his hazy green eyes, a patient smile adorning his lips as he waits for his words to settle. You gave him a small nod in response. You walk out onto the main floor of the pizzeria, the eyes of the four life sized animatronics seeming to follow your every move. Although you had grown used to the sight of the vibrantly colored animals, there was something about them that still unnerved you. “Who's your favorite?” You jump slightly when Mr. Afton suddenly speaks up. You breathe out a laugh as you turn to face him.
“Bonnie,” his face lights up at your immediate answer, “I've always liked rabbits.” You join him in the small booth, he eyes you carefully as he serves you a piece of pizza on a napkin. “Thank you for the pizza, Mr. Afton.”
“William.” He corrects with a small smile. “There's no need to be so stiff outside of work hours, doll.”
You can't help but giggle at his playful tone. “Well, thank you for the pizza, William.” He straightens up slightly at the sound of you saying his name. You were honestly a bit surprised to say that you were having a good time. William was charismatic, funny, a little awkward but in a way that came off as endearing. You stood side by side with him in the kitchen, working in tandem to clean up the dishes you made from your impromptu lunch date. You kept finding your eyes drifting over to him, the sight of his sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, his muscular forearms flexing as he twisted a rag inside of a cup. You swallowed thickly, quickly tearing your eyes away from him and back to the metal pizza pan.
“Right behind you, sweetheart.” William groans as he reaches around you to grab a dry rag. Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned into you. You feel his arm brush against your back and you dared to look over at him considering that you might never get the chance to be so close to him again, your little secret crush on your boss refused to let you miss that opportunity. You let out a small, startled squeak as you found him already looking at you. Everything about him seemed to only drag you in deeper as you got caught up in his gaze. The deep, musky smell of his cologne, his mossy green eyes holding you firmly in place. His arm wraps around your waist, your hands flying to his chest as he pulls you into him, his lips crashing against yours. It took a moment for your mind to catch up with what was happening to your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of being pressed tightly to him seeping into you as you let yourself give in to what you truly wanted. Your hands slid over the soft fabric of his shirt, your fingers just barely grazing over his collar to pull him closer when the main door to the pizzeria slammed open and the excited voices of your coworkers filed in. You startled apart, Williams eyes immediately averting to the floor as a look of shame rapidly spreads across his features. He mutters out a hurried apology as he pushes past you, through the kitchen doors, and directly into his office. You saw your friend Ashley jump as the door slammed behind him, eventually seeing you standing alone in the kitchen as your face dropped into your hands. You had no reason to be but you felt embarrassed. Your whole face burned as the moment replayed itself over and over in your head.
“What the hell was all of that?” Ashley exclaims in a hushed tone as she enters the kitchen.
“Nothing!” You turn to the sink, pretending to wash your hands as an excuse to not have to look at her. “Mr. Afton had an important call to take.” She eyes you curiously, knowing you weren't being honest with her. You felt sweat begin to bead at your temple under her scrutinizing gaze.
“Fine, keep your secrets.” She huffs playfully as she crosses her arms over her chest. She quickly closes the gap in between you, “but if you're fucking the boss and you're not telling me I'm going to be so mad.” You knew it was a joke but you were still a bit on edge from the earlier ordeal.
“Keep your voice down!” You snap, quickly looking over at his office door to see that it was, thankfully, still shut. She gasps, your nervous body language giving you away.
“Tell me everything.” She grabs you by the shoulders, forcing your attention back on her. “Is he good? Is he… y'know?” Her eyes flashing down to your crotch and back up. “Is he big?”
“Ashley!” You attempt to shush her again. “I'm not sleeping with Will-Mr. Afton.” You hurried to try and correct yourself, but your little slip up only added more fuel to the fire.
“Were you about to call him William?” She grills you, a wide, excited smile taking over her face. “Do you guys have pet names for each other? I hear him call you sweetheart all the time but I thought that was just because you're his favor-” You clamp a hand over her mouth, it was the only way you could think of to get her quiet.
“Just hang on,” you wait to see if she was actually done talking before pulling your hand away. “I came in early to open. I was supposed to be working with Kyle but he never showed. I think Mr. Afton might have fired him.”
“Did you finally go talk to him about that creep?” She asks as she leans up against the counter. You nod in response, “good, he was making your life a living hell here. Continue…” she prompts with a wave of her hand.
“I walk over to his office just to let him know that I'm here and he tells me that everything's already done-that’s not the important part.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself before telling her what had gotten you so frazzled. “He was helping me clean some dishes and he reached around me for the towel, so what was I supposed to do? Not look?” Ashley chuckles, being the one person who knew about your crush she understood how impossible that would have been for you. “I looked over at him and he was already looking at me and then he kissed me and then you guys came in-”
“Hold on. Pause.” She holds up her hands to get you to halt your recap. “He kissed you?” You nod, but before you had time to continue one of your coworkers kicked open the double doors to the kitchen.
“Alright ladies, I hate to interrupt, but I got some pizza to make.” He groans through his forced smile.
“We’ll talk about this later.” She whispers hurriedly as she ties her apron around her waist. You nod, copying her motions as you prepare to open for the day. Throughout your shift you kept thinking about the kiss. Did it mean something or was it just an impulse? Did William somehow know about your crush on him? You stood at the side of the pizzeria, unable to keep the smile off of your face as you watched him take a picture with an excited child. You found your mind wandering again, the delighted scream, pings, and whirrs of the room around you seemed to almost fade away. You could still feel his arm wrapped around your waist, how strong his broad chest was under the palms of your hands. You snapped yourself from your daydream, the glowing white eyes of the Spring Bonnie suit studying you carefully. You straightened up, hurrying off to the kitchen so you wouldn't be seen slacking. By the end of the night you had just about driven yourself crazy with questions. Questions you were determined to get answers to. You said goodbye to your coworkers, promising Ashley that you would catch her up when you were able to. You walk up to your boss’ door, a determined look etched into your features. You raised your fist, freezing just before knocking. Why was this so hard? He kissed you! If anything you should be furious! He had completely ambushed you out of nowhere and you had spent the whole day walking around in a fog because of it. But, part of you was worried about what his answer might be. It was easy to hide your feelings from him up until now; glances that lasted a little too long, walking a little too close to him so your fingers could brush his, it could all be passed off as if it were nothing. Now, you were standing in front of his door ready to charge in there to demand an explanation for the kiss not because you were upset with him… but because you were hopeful about what the implications of what that kiss could mean. Before you had the chance to decide for yourself what you were going to do the door opened. William froze at the sight of you standing on the other side. He sighs, raking a hand through his already messy hair.
“(Y/N), I'm sorry about earlier, I don't know what came over me.” Your heart cracked slightly at his apology. So, it really was just an impulse. “Can we… Can we talk about this? I think it might be better for both of us to get it all out in the open.” You were struggling to fight against the tears blurring your vision.
“I think I'm just going to go home, Mr. Afton.” You grimaced at the sound of your voice shaking.
“Sweetheart, I can't let you drive like that.” He carefully wipes away a tear that had slipped onto your cheek. Your lip quivered at the sound of his pet name for you, a soft sob breaking free from your chest as you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. William quickly pulls you into his arms, letting you hide against him. “That's it, let it out.” He says as he soothingly rubs your back. Your arms finally slid around his torso, he rocked you back and forth slightly as he waited for you to calm down. You sniffle as you pull back from him, his warm hand cupping your cheek. “You're even pretty when you cry.” He muses. Your cheeks flushed at the compliment. You allow him to wipe away any remaining trails of tears, realizing after avoiding each other all day that you missed being close to him.
“William,” your voice was a hoarse croak as you spoke. You place a hand over the one he has resting on your cheek. “I want to kiss you again… please.” His eyes widened slightly at the request. But, once he let your words sink in, he wasted no time granting your request. You stumbled back slightly as he kissed you passionately. You grab onto his collar, keeping him flush against you as you reveled in the sensation. One of his hands slaps haphazardly against the doorway as he guides the two of you inside, roughly kicking the door shut before slamming your back against it. He takes your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head in one swift movement. You whimpered softly as he pulled away from you, despite your desperate need to breathe you felt like you would die without his lips on yours. You had to look almost straight up in order to meet his eyes, a wild and hungry look dominating his gaze. He breathes out a chuckle at the sight of you, the look you gave him so full of need it nearly brought him to his knees.
“Such a pretty little thing you are, sweetheart.” He slowly swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, the flesh tender and swollen for the one mind numbing kiss he had granted you. “I can't tell you how long I've wanted you.” You whine as you feel his leg push in between your own. You were forced up onto your toes, struggling to contain the soft moan that bubbles up in your throat at the delicious pressure against your clit.
“Enlighten me.” You challenge, earning a deep, rumbling laugh from him.
“Surely, you must've known.” His head dips into the crook of your neck, biting you hard enough that you knew he would leave a mark behind. “I see you everyday; the way those tight little jeans mold to your ass, how your shirt is always pulled down just low enough to tease me…” you see the briefest look of jealousy flash through his eyes. “How those immature, snotty little college boys are constantly throwing themselves at you.” He pushes into you, his lips staying just out of reach as he keeps you pinned in place. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, he smirked as he felt you squirming against his thigh. “What's the matter sweetheart?” He asks sardonically. You were having trouble thinking straight. Every time you let your full weight sink into him it only made you need his touch more, his hot breath fanning over your lips made your whole body ache for him. “I think you know that no one could take care of you like I could, don't you?” You nod in response, your breathing growing noticeably quicker as he questioned you. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his dull green eyes searching your features for any sign of hesitation. “Well then how about I give you a night you'll never forget?” He smiles sharply at you.
In one sweep of his arm his entire desk is cleared off. Paperclips scatter across the floor alongside papers and whatever other trinkets decorated the wood surface. He grabs your hips and pulls you roughly to him, his lips ferociously meeting yours in a kiss that knocked all the air from your lungs. Your initial fight for dominance over the kiss was very short lived. If anything, William found your defiance rather cute. He growls against your lips, a sound that has your knees threatening to buckle. His hands slide from your hips down to your ass, groaning as he gives it a firm squeeze. You squeak as he easily lifts you from the floor, guiding your legs around his waist as he sets you on his desk. He fumbles blindly with the button of your jeans, eventually being able to start working then down your legs. “I can't wait to fucking ruin you.” He presses a hand flat against your chest, pushing you back onto his desk. You struggle not to blush, turning away from him so he hopefully wouldn't notice. Your fingernails dig into wood as he teases at your entrance with his fingers. “Such a cute little bunny.” He smirks. “Already so wet for me and I haven't even touched you yet.” He takes your chin between his fingers, turning you to look at him. “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna see those pretty eyes when I fuck you senseless.” His hand dips under the hem of your shirt, his large, warm hand roaming your bare torso as you lay compliantly before him. He roughly grabs your jaw, watching your expression carefully as he eases his fingers into you at an agonizingly slow pace. A strangled gasp breaks free from your throat as his digits bottom out in you, your gummy walls clenching around them.
He chuckles as you roll your hips, searching desperately for any type of relief. He begins to rock his fingers inside of you in time with your movements, taking his time to fully stretch you out in preparation for what was to come. As he gradually increased his pace the louder your moans became. You gripped tightly onto the arm that had moved from your jaw to the desk next to your head, your nails digging little crescent divots into his skin. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” He looks over you, drinking in the way your body writhed from his touch.
“William.” You whimper his name.
“What is it, bunny?” He coos. “What does my needy girl want, hm?”
“Want… want to touch you.” Your words came out slurred as you fought through your moans and the mind numbing pleasure he was inflicting on you.
He tuts at your demand, giving you a disappointed pout. “Poor thing, you want to touch me?” You nod furiously. He fingers thread into your hair, giving the strands a rough tug to ensure that your eyes are on his. “Ask nicely and maybe I'll let you.”
“Please.” Your wide innocent eyes pricked with tears as you gazed up at him longingly. He hummed, pondering over your pathetic state as he continued to slowly rock his fingers inside of you. “William, please, please let me touch you. I want… I need you.” Your begging came cracking out in a sob, tears sliding down your face as you grew more desperate to get your hands on him. William chuckles at the sight of you.
“Such a needy little thing” He smirks. He lets the request hang in the air for a moment, the only sound filling the room was the squelching of your arousal in his hand as he fingered you. His lips land on your pulse, causing you to shiver. He takes your wrist in his massive hand, guiding it to the top button of his dress shirt, giving you permission to start undressing him. Your fingers shook as you worked at the fastenings, Williams pace never slowing making it difficult for you to focus on the task at hand. Your struggling was going to be well rewarded. Once you had undone the final button on his shirt, William grabbed you roughly by the collar, hauling you to a sitting position so you were now sitting face to face with him. You whined at the sudden emptiness of him removing his fingers, but your annoyance was short lived. You pushed the dress shirt from his shoulders, William making quick work of discarding his undershirt into an empty chair in the room. You just about drooled at the sight of him. His broad shoulders and strong arms from years of working on machines in his shop flexed and shifted under the dim office lighting. You couldn't tear your eyes off of him as he started loosening his belt. You blush as he chuckles, realizing you had been caught staring. “Like something you see, sweetheart?” He asks in an amused tone. He prowls over to you, the buckle of his belt jangling as it hangs limply as his side, his pants falling low on his hips.
You bite your lip, reaching out for him once he’s close enough. You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers threading into his hair as his lips crash into yours. You run a hand over his chest, the thick carpet of coarse hair tickling your palm. In one swift movement your shirt is pushed over your head, your breasts bouncing slightly as they fall back into place after the disruption. William admired the soft lace that complimented your skin. His hands slide over your waist and up your back until he reaches the clasp of your bra. He fumbles with it a few times until the tension of the elastic finally relaxes. He takes his time removing your final article of clothing. The straps are eased off your shoulders one at a time, his beard ticking your bare skin as he places delicate kisses anywhere he could reach. Goosebumps spread across your chest as the fabric is finally fully removed, William’s eyes drifting down to get a full view of your perfect form. He lets out a primal growl at the sight before his lips latch into yours again. His fingers dig into your hips, dragging you to the very edge of his desk in order to line his cock up with your entrance. You moan into his mouth as he sheathes himself full inside you in one hard thrust. Your breath comes out in long, shaky exhales as you struggle to adjust to his size. Even with the prep from his fingers he still stretches you to a point that makes you feel like you're about to rip in half. William was a lot bigger and thicker than any guy you had been with previously. You already felt drunk just from the sensation of him bottoming out in you. “Eyes on me, bunny.” He whispers in a gentle tone. Your eyes flutter open, you hadn't realized you had even shut them to begin with, meeting his hazy green ones. You cry out as he gives you a single sharp thrust, a mixture of pain and pleasure burning white hot through your body as you struggle to take all of him. He lets out a satisfied hum as he studies your fucked out expression. “Already cock drunk, hm?” He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours to keep your attention on him. With every snap of his hips it brought you closer and closer to your climax, your moans impossibly loud in the small, cramped office. “You wanted this all along, didn't you sweetheart? You knew those stupid little boys could never make you feel like this.” He snarls. “Now, here you are, about to cum on my cock.” Drool had started to leak out of the corner of your mouth as you struggled to keep your eyes on his. He dips a hand between your legs, rubbing fast circles on your clit.
“William!” You moan out his name, his free arm wrapping securely around you to hold you tightly against him.
“Such a dirty girl, fucking someone nearly twice your age.” He chuckles cruelly, his eyes darken as they meet yours through your haze. “Pathetic.” Degrading you like that seemed to unleash something primal in him. His thrusts somehow managed to get faster and more brutal. You screamed as your orgasm ripped through you, desperately crying out his name as you clawed against his back. His hands wrap under your thighs, lifting you from the desk slightly in order to get better leverage. “Fuck.” He groans, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he approaches his end. He kisses you hard as he finishes, hot ropes of his cum coating your walls. You both stayed locked in your embrace for a moment, waiting for your breathing to calm down. You wince as he pulls out of you, a slight sting as your absurd cunt attempts to clamp around nothing. He looks around the room for something to clean you up with, deciding on his shirt when nothing else seemed plausible. He gingerly reaches in between your legs, a softness and hesitancy you didn't expect after the evenings most recent events. You let out a soft hiss at the slight bit of pain you felt as he cleaned you up. He soothingly caresses your thigh with his free hands, shooting you an apologetic look from his position situated in between your legs. You studied him for a moment, his gaze distant, and hazy as it trailed to the floor.
“William.” Your soft voice drifted over his ears, bringing his attention back to you. You adjusted your position so you could sit up. “Come here.” He stands, even sitting on his desk he still towered over you. You wrapped your arms around him, resting your chin on his soft stomach. You trail your hands over his back, his skin slightly sticky with sweat.
“I’m sorry if I took things too far-”
“You didn’t.” His gruff voice was cut off with your quiet reassurance. “You were amazing.” You give him a coy smile before pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. A small smile breaks out on his face as he chuckles at your glimmering expression.
“Come on bunny, let’s get you dressed.” He combs his fingers through your hair, “although I will never get tired of looking at your beautiful body.” He winks causing you to blush, you lightly slap his chest. He places a kiss on your forehead before collecting your clothes. You feel eyes on you as you’re getting dressed, you can’t help but smirk when you look over your shoulder so see William staring at your ass. You make a show of stepping into your panties, adjusting them so they are perfectly in place before shimmying into your jeans. William was practically drooling as he watched your supple flesh jiggle as you worked yourself into the tight clothing. You place one final kiss to his burly chest before he slips his undershirt back over his head. He trails a finger over your jaw. “I was hoping we could make this a more than one time thing… Maybe I can take you out to dinner after work some night?” He asks with a charming, lopsided smile.
“I’d really like that William.” You push yourself up on your toes, having him meet you halfway to place a chaste kiss to your lips. “Goodnight.” You whisper with a smile.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He breathes out a laugh as you both slowly pull away. You grab your jacket and bag from the employee locker room, giving William one small wave as you pass by his office on your way out. You fell into your driver seat with a groan, sticking your keys in the ignition, your heart still pounding in your chest. You turned the key expecting your engine to rumble to life, but your car refused to start. You tried again and again, falling against the steering wheel with an aggravated sigh. You kicked open the door and trudged back inside. William gave you a confused look as you walked back up to his door. “Everything alright?”
You grew embarrassed over the fact you had to ask. You never had anyone who was able to teach you about cars, you wouldn’t know the first thing about trying to find the problem yourself. “My car won’t start. I hate to ask, but could you come look at it?”
“Of course, honey. I’ll take care of it.” Your heart flutters in your chest at him taking charge of the situation. You definitely could get used to having him around, there was something about his unwavering confidence that made you long for him even more. You follow him back outside, watching him carefully as he examines your engine, a massive black flashlight held tightly in his hand. “I see the problem.” He groans as he reaches to point something out to you. “You need a new timing belt.” He points out the problem, excitedly going through the mechanics as you listened attentively. “You can leave your car here, I’ll pick you up a new one tomorrow.” He stuffs his hand in his pocket. He twirls his keys around his pointer finger. “Let me just go lock the door and I’ll drive you home.” You nod, growing giddy over the fact you would get to spend more time with him. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as he leads you around back to his car. You slide stiffly into his passenger seat. The inside of his car was pristine, some vintage model muscle car you didn’t know the name of. William’s hand envelops your thigh as he drives, ever so often giving the soft skin a gentle squeeze as you direct him to your off campus apartment. You lived in the not so great part of town, even outside of Hurricane standards. Shootings, stabbings, human trafficking, all of it had happened somewhere in your neighborhood. You noticed William’s expression grow more concerned as you drove. You eventually pulled up in front of your building, a rickety looking triple decker that looked like it would collapse from a slightly too strong gust of wind.
“Well this is me.” You state softly with a slight shrug of your shoulders. William sighed as he stared up at your building.
“You live here by yourself?” He glances at you in the passenger seat as he asks. You nod in response. “Bunny, would you like to come spend the night at my house. It’s dangerous for a girl like you to be by herself out here.”
“Spend the night with you?” You repeat his request back to him, he nods slowly, worried he crossed a line. “If you’re offering, I'm definitely not going to say no.” You lean across the cab of the car, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The drive back to his house was spent mostly in silence, every so often his hand would drift from your thigh to bringing your knuckles to his lips. You left the main part of town, the houses you passed becoming few and far between as the sides of the road were taken over by tall fir trees. You pulled up in front of a cozy looking house, the outside paint faded from years of abuse from the harsh Utah weather.
“Home sweet home.” Me mumbles with a lopsided grin. You trail closely behind him as you walk up to the door, jumping at every snapping twig and animal scurrying through the brush. “There’s nothing to be scared of sweetheart, I’ll keep you safe.” He smiles down at you, keeping you tucked into his side as he unlocks the door. He gently nudges you inside first, following closely behind you. The second the door clicks shut William’s lips are on yours again, a flustered sigh escaping you as you melted into him. “I’m going to get dinner started.” He mumbles against your lips.
“Would you like some help?” He nods, motioning for you to follow him to the kitchen.
“I would love some.” He grins at you. The two of you worked side by side to prepare dinner, every so often you would catch William stealing glances at you out of the corner of your eye. “Honey.” He suddenly speaks up, you turn to face him only for him to pull you into a kiss. “You just sit here and look pretty, I’ll finish this up.” His large hands wrap around your waist, he lifts you from the floor and sets you on the counter with ease. He hums as he works beside you, easily recreating his recipe from memory. Always keeping you on your toes, he was making homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese. He takes quick pauses, caging you in between his arms on the counter as he gives you rushed kisses that leave your head spinning. He holds out his hand for you, a gesture you gladly accept. He helps you down from the counter, balancing your plates and bowls on his arm. You sit across from each other at the small dining room table. “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a shit hole like this?” He asks with a chuckle.
“Unfortunately this shit hole has one of the best colleges in the state.” You respond with a laugh of your own.
“What’s your major?”
“Mechanical engineering.” You respond the moment he finishes his question. He looked very perplexed by your answer.
“What made you want to take that up?” He leaned forward, completely focused on you alone.
“Well, honestly, you did.” You blush a bit as you respond. “The animatronics you make are phenomenal. I hope one day I can be half as talented as you are.” He looks away bashfully, not used to such direct flattery.
“Maybe I can have you help out in the workshop sometime.” He offers with an excited glint in his eyes.
“If it means spending more time with you I would love to.” You shoot him a flirtatious smile. You find yourselves drifting closer together as you clean up after dinner. You gathered up your plates, standing on your toes to try and put them in the cabinet with the rest. You let out a frustrated sigh as you struggled to reach. The warmth of William’s body pressing into yours from behind made you freeze.
“I got it sweetheart.” He chuckles, taking the plates from your hands. “Such a cute little thing you are.” He whispers next to your ear making you shiver. You squeal as he lifts you from the floor, taking you in his arms as he carries you upstairs. He tosses you onto the bed, stripping out of his clothes with a groan, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. You can’t help but smirk slightly as you grab him by the wrist and pull him in to kiss you. “Strip, I wanna hold you.” He commands. You decide to give him a little show, taking your time to peel out of your jeans, swaying your hips as you pull your top over your head. You stripped out of your lingerie before straddling his lap. His hands knead your ass, rocking you gently against the already half hard erection in his boxers. He pulls you into bed, shutting off the lights before joining you himself. He slings an arm over your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. You bite your lip, shifting your hips as you feel his cock press into your back. The moon cast in through the window, basking the room in a dull silver glow. You hear William’s breath catch in his throat as you press your ass into his throbbing member. “Someone’s needy.” He chuckles, his breath hot against his ear. “What’s the matter bunny, need me to fill you up?” You nod, letting out a soft whine as you push back into him again. He places a kiss just below your ear, spreading your legs with his hand as he lines himself up with your entrance. You let out a broken moan as he slowly pushed inside of you.
“Holy fuck.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his forearm as you grab him tightly as your walls stretch painfully around him. “Wow.” Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back in your head. His fingers slid around your throat, putting a delicious pressure on your neck.
“Such a good bunny, taking me so well.” His meticulous hand placement was starting to make you feel light headed, the mixture of the sensation and his praise making you dizzy with dopamine. You moan as he rolls his hips slightly. “You feel so good squeezing around my cock.” He purrs before placing a kiss on your cheek. You squirmed and whined as you lay there, impaled on his throbbing cock. William groaned at how wet you were, he could feel your juices dripping down the base of him. “So pretty sweetheart.” He coos, chuckling at your desperate state. His arm tightens around you, rolling his hips and causing you to cry out. You cursed as he pushed impossibly deep inside of you, your body moving instinctually as you bounced on his cock. He groans, his hips snapping up to meet yours. Your moans grew louder and more fervent with every thrust, his tip kissing the perfect spot inside of you everytime. Your thighs started to shake as you felt your climax creeping up on you. “Are you going to cum for me sweetheart?” He asks in a sweet voice. You nod, biting your lip to try and muffle your moans. You yelp as he suddenly delivers a sharp slap to your ass. “I want to hear you bunny.” He growls in your ear.
“Yes sir.” You gasp, letting your moans fall freely from your mouth. You let out a high pitched whine as your orgasm hung joust out of reach. You moan out his name, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out in pleasure. He reaches a hand in between your legs and swipes his fingers over your clit.
“So good for me.” He praises you. He wraps his hands around your waist, helping you fuck yourself faster on his cock. You scream his name as your orgasm rips through you, sobbing as he fucks you through your climax. Your whole body shook, your hand gripping weakly onto his wrist. “I got you sweetheart.” He whispers, settling himself deeply inside of you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you nestled into his soft pillows. He pulls the comforter up around your shoulders. You smiled at the scent of his musky cologne. Every small shift from him made you whine, after letting you rest for a while he began to rock his hips again. Small gasps and sighs falling from your lips as he tenderly fucks into you. “I’m gonna fill you up.” He groans, his thrusts growing uneven and stuttering every so often.
“Please.” You moan softly. Hearing your soft voice only seemed to spur him on. His slow deep thrusts had both of you moaning. You held on tightly to William’s arms, wanting to be pressed as close to him as possible. He groans your name as he finishes, his hips stuttering as he pushes as deep inside of you as he can manage. He places soft kisses to the nape of your neck as he pulls you into his chest. You found yourself easily drifting off in his arms, before you knew it you had drifted off into a dreamless sleep. When you woke up you rolled over, cuddling into his warm back. You placed a soft kiss to a couple of the faded scars on his shoulder.
“Well good morning sweetheart.” He hums as he rolls over and pulls you into his chest. “You wanna stay in bed while I get breakfast started?” His voice raspy and deeper than normal as he fought off the thickness of sleep.
“Can you stay in bed just a little longer.” You put, nuzzling your face into his neck.
“Sure, anything for you sweetheart.” He says with a smile and a kiss to your forehead. You laid on top of his chest, your fingers trailing through his chest hair as you talked about the plan for the day. He places a soft kiss to your lips as he slides out from underneath you to go get dressed. You cuddle up into the blankets, watching the muscles in his back flex as he gets dressed. A little while later he returned with a tray full of food, setting it in between the two of you. The two of you chatted pleasantly over breakfast, William consistently making you smile and laugh. “I’m going to head out to the garage, take your time getting ready, I’ll be out there when you’re done.” You grab him by the collar, keeping his lips on yours for a little longer than normal. He shoots you a wink as he slips out of the bedroom. You took your time getting ready, slipping into one of his shirts, the oversized clothing falling half way down your thighs. You washed your face and fixed your hair before wandering downstairs to find William. You heard the sound of powertools and pushed through the door. William stood with a welding mask on, his shirt discarded over a nearby chair. His skin, completely drenched in sweat, glowed in the dim overhead lighting. Streaks of grease dragged down his neck and across his stomach from where he had rubbed his hands across his skin. He flips his mask off when he notices you entered his workshop. “Hey bunny.” He grins. You saunter over to him to look over his expert work.
“You really are incredible, William.” He runs his fingers through his hair as he clears his throat, a noticeable blush on his face. You stood by him, allowing him to walk you through his process, an arm wrapped around your waist as he kept you tucked safely against him.He cursed as he looked up and noticed the time.
“We’re gonna be late.” He takes your hand, leading you inside. He pulls you into a heated kiss as he helps you out of your borrowed clothes. He picks you up and carries you into the shower. You yelped and giggled as your back pressed into the frigid wall. William carefully lets down your hair before allowing you to wet it. You sigh as he works shampoo into your hair, gently massaging your scalp. You couldn’t help but stare as you watched the soapy water run down his body. He wraps you up in a fluffy towel, retrieving your work clothes as you dried off. You both ran to his car, laughing as you fell into the front seats. “I’ll run out and grab the timing belt for your car after I check in on Freddy’s.” He promises. You nod, a bit sad that your stay with him was over so quickly. You fall into him as he turns sharply into the parking lot. He tilts your chin up with a finger, a softness in his eyes as he studies your features. His eyes flash down to the dark bruises and bitemarks that littered your neck. “Are you, um… are you okay with people knowing about this?” He asks with a slight wavering in his voice.
“This?” You ask with a coy smile as you raise your eyebrow at him.
“Us.” He blurts out before swallowing thickly. You lean in ,placing a soft kiss against his lips.
“Only if you are.” He breathes out a soft laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He walks around to your side of the car as you’re gathering your things, opening your door for you. You thank him softly as he helps you out. You link your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. He holds the door open for you, wrapping his arm around your waist before pressing his lips to yours in one long, loving kiss.
“I’ll see you after work, bunny.” He winks before slipping off to his office. You smile as you watch him head out, adjusting his tie and greeting customers as he passes by. You turn to look out over the pizzeria, meeting Ashley’s shocked expression. She speed walks over to you, her eyes immediately falling to your abused neck.
“What happened to catching me up?” She yell whispers at you.
“Things might have gotten a little more serious than just a kiss.” You admit awkwardly.
“Well no shit, look at the hickey’s he gave you.” You smile as you catch his gaze from his position seated at his desk.
“He wants to make sure everyone knows I’m his.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery (I think that's everyone, if you'd like to be added to the tag list or I forgot you please let me know!!)
917 notes · View notes
direquail · 5 months
Text
You know the point of "protecting the children" dogwhistles, right? It's a reference to the idea that all queer people are child abusers. Super common belief among homophobes and transphobes, including (sometimes especially) gay ones.
It's also not just "a dogwhistle". When pressed to explain what exactly they want to protect children from, it's a ready-made emotional appeal to something that has broad social support. Most people, even if they don't like being around kids, are also not pro-child abuse. That's why conservatives go out of their way to invent (even if it's completely fictional) "reasons" why acceptance of gay and trans people amounts to child abuse. It helps them create an emotional connection with their target audience, and can be leveraged into logically ridiculous arguments like "well, if you don't agree with my platform, you must be pro child abuse, because I'm on the side of The Children".
"Protecting the children" is also super appealing to parents in particular, not because all parents are secretly authoritarians, but because it's super common to have a child and realize "Oh shit, I brought this person who can't defend themselves into the world and the world kind of sucks", and to feel horribly, horribly inadequate in the face of that.
I get very tired of people who mock, scorn, and ridicule people for falling for these rhetorical traps, or being snared by something that seems common-sense but disguises something ugly underneath. They are traps. That is what they're meant to be. That is why there are gay people who fall for anti-queer rhetoric, and get pulled into exclusionist or violently reactionary circles. We all have things we are vulnerable to, whether that is a history of being abused or a deep fear that we cannot protect our own children, who we brought into the world and are responsible for the protection of. And we gain nothing by mocking the latter.
I'm sure it makes some people feel great to say "well if you were really who you claim to be, you wouldn't fall for this shit", but frankly, that's a stupid-ass take. It misses entirely that these messages are carefully crafted by the people who hate us! They workshop these statements! They spend months or years trying to find the right message and when they find it they use the hell out of it, because it works. Because they are listening to the public conversations people are having online, and it doesn't take any level of basic agreement to be capable of regurgitating the party line word-for-word.
I am so sick of people who look at a deeply-embedded struggle over social and political ideals and think that this fight won't demand our whole brains and hearts and souls and yeah, we might fuck up because we care deeply and sometimes, people with bad intentions prey on that. On our grief and our fear and our rage.
And I'm frankly a lot more nervous around people who refuse to be aware of that, especially when they loudly mock the people who are willing to acknowledge their own fallibility and explore how they got ensnared in something. People are not moral machines, they are people.
519 notes · View notes