#dress how ya wanna

[ahhscheisse]

there’s something that happens to me when i see someone enjoying something i like but what they’re enjoying is essentially y’know. “grunge” at $200. does that make sense? i go absolutely feral inside my own head when i see a kid dress “goth” and it’s y’know. very watered down. more fashionable. like GOD FOR FUCKING BID you not be attractive to your followers for one damn post. i mean, if you’re gonna dress “grunge” for clicks, go to a thrift store, buy cheap, ratty, ugly ass ill-fitting clothes, y’know? punk isn’t just ripped jeans and a pristine leather jacket. there’s more to these things. they go so much deeper than what people are giving them credit for. grunge has nothing really to do with clothing except for the idea of, y’know, “reduce reuse recycle” even if their intent wasn’t inherently eco-friendly. they were broke, y’know? they bought what they could afford and wore that shit until it disintegrated and i SWEAR TO GOD i will completely lose my cool if i ever see a pair of ripped tights on some high end fashion website again i WILL LOSE IT.

[marsbotz]

ok rate my spamton outfits that i stole from my other plushies

[onlybattles]

MY GHETAWAY IS FULLY PLANNED DUDES

tickets ✅

Flight ✅

Hotel✅

but fuck

what do I wear

[bootyful-seventeen]

I’m so ready to own Halloween at work later today

[uumumuu]

[orlissa]

A few weeks ago I read a YA book - it doesn't really matter which one exactly -, set in Argentina and Egypt, in the 1880s, and it included a sentence I cannot get out of my head:

[The dress] had a matching parasol, ruffled and useless save for protecting my skin from the sun.

This unassuming sentence, my friends, is one of the stupidest shit I've ever read (I honestly don't know how it slipped past the editor).

On the one hand, like, consider the word itself: parasol. It literally means "to protect against the sun." To say that a parasol is useless save for, you know, protecting you from the sun, is to say something like "a pen is useless save fro writing."

ITS FREAKING PURPOSE IS TO PROTECT YOU FROM THE SUN.

And even that is not useless - a parasol is vital, especially, you know, in Egypt, where 90% of the novel is set. You don't have sunblock in the 1880s, and, vanity put aside... you don't want to end up with a nasty sunburn - hence the parasol. It's not "useless" - it has one specific and very important function - which it fulfills! It doesn't have to do anything else!

And the most infuriating in the whole thing is that you just know that sentences and sentiments like this stem from the misconception that everything women did or wore pre-20th century is the product of the opressive patriarchy and should be condemned. Corsets are yucky. Long skirt are ewww. Parasols are USELESS.

Heaven forbid that all of these things made sense in their given context.

Honestly, I really wanna see some heroines in historical/fantasy books who go, like "no, I feel naked without my corset, it's like my armor" and "you want me to wear pants? I don't know, I'd feel so awkward." And, you know, heroines who thrive in the period specific femininity, instead of trying to dismantle it, because that's so cool.

[alexiroflife]

"first day"

fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off

Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door

to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of

WC: 1,701

Warning(s): none

"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.

His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"

"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."

"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.

"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."

"Not at all, actually," you agree.

Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"

"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."

"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.

"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.

"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."

"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.

"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."

"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."

"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.

"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."

Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.

"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"

"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."

"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"

"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."

"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.

"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.

"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.

"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.

"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.

"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.

"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."

"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."

"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."

Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"

"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."

The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."

"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."

Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.

"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."

The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"

"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."

"But-"

"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.

"Yes, ma'am."

Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"

"We done, now?"

"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."

Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.

Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.

He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."

You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."

"I know. I will," he nods.

"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."

"I won't."

"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."

"I'll try."

You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.

"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.

"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"

"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."

"Please do."

Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."

"Don't speed, Toji."

"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.

"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.

"See ya, doll."

"Bye, mum."

The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.

You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.

You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.

Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.

"Yep."

Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.

Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."

"I'm gonna cry."

The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"

"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."

"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."

"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."

"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."

"You're being for real?"

"Of course I am."

You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."

"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"

"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."

He smirks. "Will do, doll."

[valleyofheartz]

Beginning of the End

pairing: Suna Rintarou x F!Reader

angst to fluff

WC: 3.1k

synopsis: when Suna begins to spend more time with his close friends, including his new sickeningly sweet manager, you start to wonder if you’re not as important to him as you thought.

content/warnings: neglect, mentions of beating up (no one gets beat up), jealousy, insecurity, no use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything!

you make your way towards the gymnasium with a giddy smile as you hum the lyrics to Apple Cider. it’s a boring Thursday afternoon, and while you had the option of going home immediately, you figured you’d stop by Rintarou’s volleyball practice. after all, you’d baked some brownies and thought it would be a fun surprise for the boys.

you peek your head through the door to ensure no volleyballs are going to attack you, before slipping in and running towards the benches. you notice Suna spot you with his intense stare, and you give him a smile paired with a wave in response. he waves back before focusing on the rest of his practice.

you manage to get some work done throughout the hour, not disturbing the team as you know how serious the sport is to them. by the time you’ve finished your homework, they’ve begun to pack up and head to the locker room.

Atsumu, however, wipes his sweat with a towel before walking towards you.

“Hey, [Name], how are ya doin'?” he asks you with a crooked grin.

you finish zipping up your backpack before looking up, “I’m doing okay! Just waiting for Rin.”

he nods understandingly as the rest of the boys walk out, dressed in fresh clothes and looking much less… stinky. Rintarou eyes you and Atsumu as he lazily stalks over, draping an arm over you and pulling you close.

he bends down and kisses your temple, “Hey, baby. What’re you doing here?”

you pause, looking up at him unsure as you are aware of the presence of his team members. “I was waiting for you. I was thinking we could go back home together and watch a movie?”

he lifts his arm to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, today the team is going out for dinner. Maybe tomorrow?”

you ignore the pinch in your heart at the lack of an invitation, but you justify it as it is a team dinner. and make no mistake, no matter how close you were, you were not part of his team.

“Oh, okay.” you murmur with an awkward smile. you look towards Osamu who stands off to the side, “Hey, ‘Samu, I made my brownies again since you all loved them so much. Here.”

you reach out to give them to him as he rips open the lid and stares at it with heart-eyes. he looks back to you, “Thank ya so much [Name], ya sure ya don’t wanna dump Sunarin for me? I could eat these for the rest of ma life.”

Suna immediately wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you into his chest as he glowers at Osamu. you giggle as Osamu merely raises his hands in mock surrender. the rest of the team digs in, including Atsumu who you notice still hasn’t changed. but that was none of your business.

what was your business, was the pouty messy haired boy in front of you who looked like a sad puppy.

“Hey. Where’s mine?”

you smile fondly, before unzipping your backpack and pulling out a neatly wrapped bag of brownies. they were decorated with caramel drizzle and mini sprinkle hearts.

Suna lights up at the sight, gently grabbing it from your hand and kissing the side of your face. “Thanks.” he whispers, causing you to shiver at the low tone.

“Should you all be eating brownies when nationals is just around the corner? I thought you’d be more strict about this, Kita-san.” a gentle voice comes from behind. you look over and find their manager, Akira, as she frowns at the team.

Kita looks thoroughly scolded as he stares at the brownie in his hand, his cheeks puffed out as he stops chewing.

your brows furrow as you notice everyone stop eating. you force a smile, “I thought it would be fine since it’s been months since I gave it to them.”

Atsumu nods as he finishes chewing, licking his fingers once he’s done. “Yeah, don’t worry about it Akira, yer new so ya don’t know this, but [Name] always bakes for us. It doesn’t hurt to have somethin’ sweet once in a while.”

she sighs, a dimpled smile coming onto her face, “I suppose you’re right, Atsumu. Well, when are we leaving?”

your face drops at the we. who is we, you begin to wonder. the team? her? everyone here but you? you clench your fist as you inhale quietly. you turn to Suna with a smile.

“I’m gonna head home before it gets darker, have fun at your dinner.” you kiss his cheek before placing your bag over your shoulder and leaving, uncaring of the fact that your exit was not the nicest.

perhaps this was the beginning of the end of your and Suna’s relationship. looking back, you should’ve noticed something was wrong. but what were you to do, other than ride the catastrophic wave as a rookie surfer.

✾

things began to go downhill from there. slowly, but surely, you were losing Rintarou. it went from team dinners, to team hangouts, to spending lunch breaks with the team. it was the team, team, team, and team. and a quick glance at Atsumu’s Instagram let you know that Akira was included in every team plan.

that didn’t mean you didn’t try. because if there’s anything you ever did, it was try your best.

“Hey, Rin! Let’s get dinner on Saturday?”

he looks at you with a guilty smile, kissing your lips gently. you part, dazed, but he lets you down with his next words. “Sorry, team dinner again. Maybe next week?”

-

“Rinnie, was thinking of seeing the new Barbie movie with you. Wanna go on Friday?” you ask with hopeful eyes. the Barbie movie was gaining so much popularity lately, it was hard to go about your days without seeing spoilers.

he pauses, before running a hand through his messy dark hair, “Sorry, babe. The team already asked me to go with them. I can rewatch it with you some other time though?”

“No need,” you shake your head with a wry smile.

“Have fun, Rin.”

you end up going to the theatres alone and shoving popcorn in your mouth every time the couples next to you giggle.

the last straw was when he flaked on your usual Thursday lunch break meetup. the two of you would sit on the rooftop together and enjoy picking at each others food. it would often end in you being cuddled into his chest, enjoying the soft kisses down your neck.

the past few weeks, he hadn’t been present at all. he was physically there, but his mind was somewhere else. he’d be on his phone texting the team group chat you were obviously not in, and it was getting ridiculous. so when he fails to show up this week, you begin to wonder how much more of this you’ll put up with.

he doesn’t text you back for the rest of the day, and while you wish you could say you were angry, you were more so disappointed. was expecting him to prioritize you asking for too much? was it unreasonable to want to be chosen first? was love meant to hurt this much?

you make your way to the gymnasium once again after class. your face that once held a happy smile is replaced with a blank look, as you are unable to force yourself to look something you do not feel.

you walk in without a care of the volleyballs being thrown across the room, but you stop when you spot Akira, dimpled brown-haired Akira, who is in your Rintarou’s sweater. the sleeves fall below her hands, and the sweater paws look horrifically adorable. she smiles as she talks with the team, handing their water bottles to them. you wonder if you are imagining the glint in her eyes as she hands Rintarou his, their fingers brushing lightly as she gives it to him.

“[Name]!” a loud voice calls. it snaps you out of your daze, but you wish it hadn’t. tears begin to build in your eyes, so you turn around and walk out. you quickly wipe them away, thankful that your eyes don’t get red easily as you continue walking.

but then you hear footsteps. someone’s running towards you. you know it’s Rintarou, but you can’t face him right now. you speed up your steps, but he catches up with you in no time and softly grabs your wrist, pulling you into his chest.

you rip your arm out harshly, frowning up at him.

he exhales, out of breath from practice and running. “Baby, what’s wrong? Why did you leave?”

he pauses, “Why do you look so upset?”

he moves closer to grab your face in his hands, but you take a step back, needing the space.

“Why… Why was she in your sweater, Rintarou?”

he frowns, eyes looking around as his mind scrambles to understand you. “Who? You mean Akira? She wasn’t feeling well during lunch so I gave her my sweater.”

your heart drops. so while you were waiting for him alone at the rooftop he was with her? your face twists; you aren’t sure what kind of expression you’re showing, but it must annoy Suna, as he scoffs quietly, sliding a hand over his face.

“You’re not upset over that, are you? Because I don’t remember you being so possessive like that.”

you bark out a sarcastic laugh, looking at him as you tilt your head, “Possessive? More like I’m fucking normal, Rintarou. With the way you’ve been neglecting me lately, this is just the cherry on top.”

you shake your head, ignoring his concerned eyes. “Go back to practice, Suna. I’m going home.”

you turn around, fully expecting to be pulled back, but nothing happens. you continue to walk, letting out a shaky exhale as you place your headphones on. tears slip out of your eyes as your vision begins to blur. you blink harshly, wondering why every situation seemed to leave you utterly alone.

✾

“She said something about Akira being in my sweater.” Suna dries his hair messily with the towel in his hands before leaving it draped on his neck.

Osamu shrugs, “Well, that’s a valid reason to be uncomfortable in my opinion.”

Aran nods in agreement beside him. “Yeah, you considered that maybe you pushed a boundary of hers?”

Suna frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face. his chest aches. he hates not being on good terms with you.

Atsumu comes out from the showers, stretching his arms as he yawns.

“How was yer lunch with her today? Did she seem upset earlier?”

Suna pauses at Atsumu’s words.

Lunch?

Today was…Thursday.

he stands, scrambling as he rummages through his bag for his phone. he quickly opens your contact and looks at your texts. he sighs with a heavy heart at what he sees. why didn’t he get your texts?

he checks to the settings, finding that he had your contact muted. he knows he could have never done that, so he traces his memory back to whoever had his phone. the only time he left his phone alone today was when he was with Akira in the nurses room.

putting the pieces together, he shuts off his phone and tosses it back into his bag.

“Fuck.”

-

Suna looks for you on Friday, but you manage to slip away every time he got close. he sat in your usual seat in class, only for you to sit up at the front close to the door. when class was over, you quickly packed your bags and was out before he could blink.

when he looked for you at lunch, he found you surrounded by your friends. you must’ve told them something, because the moment they saw him they glared before huddling closer to you as if to protect you. he rolls his eyes at the thought but is happy you have such caring friends.

he waits by your locker after school, crossing his arms and leaning on the cool metal. he has practice, but he has priorities. and perhaps he neglected you for the past three weeks, but he knows he can fix this. he can be better.

but when you don’t show up, he wonders what the point of being better is if you’re not there.

his eyes trace the lines in the concrete as he walks towards the gym. the rest of practice he’s off his game, with sloppy spikes and weak serves. sure, he gets told off by Kita but it’s not as bad as the pain of potentially losing you.

Akira walks up to him after practice. she taps his shoulder. “Hey, Suna. I was wondering if you wanted to visit the Illusion Cafe with me this weekend? I know you love sweets and I heard lots of good things!” she smiles sweetly, but all Suna can focus on is the sweater she is wearing. it’s his.

more importantly, it’s yours.

he frowns, “No. I’m gonna spend that time with my girlfriend.”

Akira’s expression drops into a slight scowl. his eyebrow twitches at the mere sight. why would she be angry that he’s spending time with his girlfriend?

“Oh…Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” she says with a tight lipped smile.

he looks back at the sweater before glancing at her face. “I won’t. Also, I’d like my sweater back sometime soon, thanks.”

her face reddens at his comment. she nods, embarrassed, before scurrying away.

Suna sighs, walking to the locker room and wondering how he was gonna get you to talk to him.

-

the team walks out of the gym, with Suna tuning their mindless rambling out. he stretches, finding his eyes seem heavier than usual. he hadn’t slept well last night, unused to you being angry with him that it left him so unsettled he couldn’t sleep.

“Oh, looks like the basketball team is also going home.”

it’s something insignificant. something Suna thought he’d look over at and forget the next second. but then he sees you.

you, with your arm wrapped around another guy’s arm. he’s tall, taller than Suna. muscular too, and his dark blue hair is captivating. Suna stops walking, causing the rest of the team to take a second glance at what he is looking at.

“Holy shit, is that [Name]? What’s she doin’ with those scrubs?” he distantly hears Atsumu say, but all is on his mind is he needs to get you away from that guy now. away from him and into his arms.

you’re laughing, happy for the first time in three weeks until you hear the rushed footsteps that are approaching you.

“[Name], let’s talk.” Suna demands. unfortunately for him, you’re not in the mood to talk anymore.

you unwrap your arm, looking at Suna directly. “No thanks. Maybe next time.” you quote his favourite line he’d used on you countless times recently. it seems he realizes, as his face crumples.

“Who’s this dolt?” the tall blue haired man asks, and Suna’s eyebrow twitches in irritation. who does this guy think he is?

you sigh, “Sorry, Aomine. This is my…boyfriend.”

Aomine’s brows raise. “Ah, my bad. Didn’t mean to get in the way.”

you shake your head, ignoring the other basketball members who surround you. “You’re not in the way, let’s go home, please.”

Suna walks in front of you, stopping you from moving. you exhale, exhausted from the long three weeks and wanting nothing more than to be in your bed.

“You want me to deal with him, [Name]?” Kagami asks from the side, sliding his sleeves up as Suna’s eyes widen.

a new voice comes from behind Suna, “Deal with him? Yer gonna havta deal with us too then.” Atsumu stands in front of Suna, eyes blazing with confidence. even Kita stands off to the side, seemingly ready to physically intervene. you want to laugh at the scene.

you shake your head at the almost comedic situation in front of you, before clapping your hands loudly. “Okay! That’s enough. Volleyball kids, go on your way. Basketball kids, also go on your way. Suna and I will talk as he walks me home.”

Suna’s eyes light up at your words, but you ignore his gaze. he wasn’t forgiven quite yet.

the rest of them begin to make their way out of the school grounds, except for Suna and Aomine. Aomine looks down at you, bending to your height, “You sure you don’t need me to do anything?”

you smile at his overprotectiveness, “No thanks, I got this. Thank you though, really.” he smiles and ruffles your hair, letting out a small ‘oof’ as you hug him tightly.

Suna stands off to the side, silently seething yet knowing he has no place to tell you what to do, especially not now.

Aomine leaves soon after, with a soft wave and a promise to beat Suna up if he tries anything funny. you glance at Suna who looks unsure and out of place.

“Let’s go?” you don’t wait for an answer and begin walking. you hear soft shuffling as he walks beside you and takes small glances that he thinks are discreet.

you arrive at a park near your house. you take a seat on the swings, Suna carefully doing the same. you wait for him to speak, as you’re all out of love and words to give at the moment.

“So… I think- No I know, I need to start this off by saying I’m sorry.” he stands, moving to position himself in front of you. he bends down, crouching to meet your gaze.

“I was very neglectful these last few weeks. I have no excuse, and I know I’ve hurt you.”

he slowly moves to grab your hand; you allow him, as he brings your limp hand to kiss the back. “I want you to know I made it clear to Akira that you’re my number one. You’re the one I always want, no matter what. I can’t even believe my dumbass made you doubt that.”

he shakes your head, looking down before glancing up. you notice tears building in his lash-line, causing you to sit up in alarm.

“I am seriously so fucking sorry for missing our lunch dates, dinners, and for giving her my sweater.”

you grab his face gently, wiping your thumbs beneath his eyes.

“I’ll burn the sweater, I swear.”

you roll your eyes, squishing his cheeks gently.

he grabs your arms, kissing your inner wrists softly as he looks up at you. “Will you give me a second chance? I promise I won’t fumble.”

the sweet moment is broken, then, as you scoff out a laugh. “You’re not going to fumble me, Rintarou.”

he smiles, cat-like eyes with a lazy grin. “Damn right. Gotta treat you like the princess you are.”

you pout, “Not a queen?”

he laughs, a deep raspy sound. he stands up and tilts his head down to kiss your nose.

“Princess, queen, anything. So long as you’re mine.”

EXTRA:

"So, who was that asshole earlier?"

you shove his shoulder gently, "He's not an asshole! He's my friend. Didn't you know I'm friends with the basketball team? I used to be their manager."

Rintarou scoffs, "Yeah, I knew that, just didn't know those guys were so close to my girl."

you look at him with a blank face.

"Right, and I was the one who was possessive. Sure."

he whines softly, low in his throat as he moves his face into your neck, "I said I was sorry!"

a/n: suna brainrot😵‍💫

[deityofhearts]

Would you be willing to post a picture of the outfit so that your followers can have the chance to praise it? I know you don’t want pictures of yourself on this blog just yet, but even if you just crop out the rest of you or just post the fit by itself. I’m sure you looked stunning in it and roomy’s mom is probably just jelly. I have found that people often criticize in others what they dislike in themselves.

~🐛Anon~

I ended up changing outfits soon after because I was just fed up and hurt (and maybe overdramatic who knows), one day when I feel comfortable wearing the outfit again (probably when it’s just me and my roommates) I’ll take pics in the outfit, maybe by then I’ll gather more things to add to the look. In the mean time I simply changed into a diff outfit which was still cute but i was mad about it. Thank you for hyping me up anon and sorry for the late reply!

[peachsukii]

content // bakugo + reader are married (26/27). talks of children/pregnancy. semi-breeding kink. intoxicated dirty talk.

Imagining that the annual Hero Gala is the perfect place for Bakugo to let loose once a year, celebrating with his colleagues about their success and knocking back endless drinks without hesitation. It's the only time he allows himself to truly let go. It's time to go home when his hands can't stop wandering your form in front of everyone.

You're barely through the door of your home before his hands are hiking up your dress and pressing your back to the door, begging to let him make a mess of you.

"C'mon baby," Bakugo slurs while messily sucking on your exposed collarbone, pressing his groin against your thigh to let you how badly he wants you. "Need'ta taste you...feel you."

Whenever he gets like this, it's all give give give, never take. Bakugo becomes obsessed with pleasuring you, and only you. He doesn't even take himself into account, too love drunk and lust driven to care about his own release. But tonight? Bakugo's got a new agenda in mind, thanks to Mina and Kirishima's talks of starting a family earlier that night. All it took was Mina to casually say, "She'd make such a perfect mom, don't you think?" while gesturing to you across the room.

And goddamn, it consumed him whole.

"Wanna make you a momma, gorgeous," he mumbles against the shell of your ear as he slides his fingers seamlessly into your panties. Your thighs clench, a soft whine falling from your lips when two fingers slip between your slick covered folds. "Mm, ya like the sound'a that? You're soaked."

Bakugo's laugh is sinister before licking along your jawline and crashing into a heated kiss, whiskey lingering on his tongue. He pulls away, fingers pumping languidly into your pussy, a string of saliva connecting the two of you before whispering against your lips.

"Gonna stuff that pretty cunt'a yours full of my cum an' fuck it into you all night long. Eat it out of ya and fill you up all over again." He stops to lick at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth with a loud pop to leave you gasping for breath. "Fuck you so deep that you'll be leakin' cum for weeks."

Holy shit. You could faint on the spot.

"F-fuck Katsuki...bedroom, now."

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ love me, connie springer (nsfw)

thinking about babydaddy!connie fucking you nice and slow after finding out you got stood up by your date. having little constentina (his idea, but tina for short) for the weekend, your precious angel just couldn’t keep her mouth shut to her daddy when you’d told her you were going on a small ‘dinner’

“she said dinner but that really means date, daddy.”

connie isn’t surprised. no one knew how to handle you beside him. i mean, he’s had your ass in place successfully for nearly ten years; only he was man enough to handle you, your mind, and most of all your body.

you loved connie like no other, you wanted no one else to be the father of your children. but you knew the streets would eventually take him away from you, and you just didn’t wanna stick around for that. not when you had a five year old girl depending on the both of you. connie looked for other ways to make bread without selling or doing anything…illegal but it was hard to match the stacks he was bringing home every weekend.

your separation was a one sided agreement anyways it seems. to you? you two were broken up. to connie delulu ass? you were his wife and you’re ‘smoking dick if you think ion belong to you and you’on belong to me.’

you didn’t even have any words for the absence of your so called ‘date.’. after an hour of waiting, you figured you’d call in to check on tina. ringing connie, your babyfather answered on the first ring, of course with a wood in his mouth and multiple lights on his face, signaling he was watching tv.

“hey,” your voice is solemn and low. you really were tired and ashamed to say anything more.

“hey mama, you okay?” connie’s hazel brown eyes quickly flick over to yours through the screen.

you shrug though he can’t see it. “i’m okay.” you admit. “just callin’ to check on my baby.” the frame was only on your face, but from the small shake of your hand, connie had managed to get a glimpse of a pretty black dress you’d sported, breasts looking three times as big as it usually did because of your sitting position. he could tell you dressed up for the night.

“yeah? she good, just upstairs sleepin’ right now. how was your date, pretty?” you hear connie turn down the tv in the background and give you his full intention.

you furrow your brows. “what? boy, how’d you know about it?”

your baby father blows out a huff of smoke and chuckles, flashing his gold canines. he wasn’t gon snitch on his lil informant princess. “i got my ways. tell me bout it baby.”

with a roll of your eyes, you let out a tired sigh and felt your shoulders sag. “wouldn’t know. the nigga never showed.”

connie furrows his own thick eyebrows. “what you mean? he told you he couldn’t come?” he asked. from the shake of your head, you see his face soften on the screen. “come over n’ smoke with me. lemme make you feel better.”

you kiss your teeth and throw your head back, already knowing where the conversation was headed. embarrassment flooded your expression. “you eating my pussy is not gonna make me feel better, constance.”

connie kissed his teeth and waved you off dismissively. “you’on know that.”

a blush can’t help but creep its way onto your brown cheeks. “i’m supposed to be staying away from you, ya know.”

connie gives you a knowing grin, shamelessly flexing the two deep dimples in his cheeks that constentina inherrited from him. “yeah? how’s that going for you, mama?”

“obviously not good because i’m actually considering your offer of being a booty call tonight?” you laugh.

“come onnn mama, tina’s sleep, i got a wood rolled for you and i want you here.” your ex compromised with a kiss of his teeth. “lemme rub ya feet and all on ya butt i promise you’ll feel better.

“i’m tired and don’t feel like driving, con,” you whine in the same tone. you knew if he didn’t have your daughter he’d already be at your door, but you refused to risk waking her up in a car ride over here.

connie rolls his eyes and puts you on pause for the moment. a minute later he comes back on screen and takes a pull of his backwood. “your uber on the way baby.”

“ooh daddy,” you cried, trying your hardest to breathe straight. “you know i cum fast like this, oh shit,” connie had your legs spread wide open, forcing your huge tits up against the bottom of your face as he pumped in and out of you.

“you like that mama, like when i fuck you nice and slow? all romantic n’ shit?” connie teased. tears streamed down your face and he wasted no time in kissing them from your pretty face.

you’re too far in euphoria to even fully comprehend exactly what he’s saying. “yes, i love when you stroke this pussy so deep daddy.”

connie holds your breasts up damn near to your face and takes his time sucking on each of your nipples, making sure to stretch and pull it all the way back as far as it could go, grinning at the sound of it snapping back toward you. “you’on need no one else to love you like this but me, you heard?”

you can’t help but shake your head, the small responsible part of you left that hadn’t been fucked out by connie yet (though he was close) was slowly bringing you to reality. “no,” you respond.

“nah, nah, dead that shit or imma stop,” your ex threatened, straightening his back out so he stood tall, yet still very deep inside your gummy walls. you can’t help but stare down the tattoos that littered his body; many dedicated to you and your shared daughter. “you grippin’ me so tight baby, boutta make me cum, fuck,” connie throws his head back and whines. “tell me you’re mine n’ we gonna get back together.”

“no, con,” your words were saying one thing, but the cream ring of your arousal forming around connie’s tanned dick was betraying everything leaving your mouth. “w-we’re we’re toxic—oooh, yes, right there right there!”

suddenly, a large pair of hands come to wrap around your neck, gripping lightly. “tell me you’re mine or im not fuckin’ this pussy,” he orders. “you know i don’t be bluffing, mama. ‘specially when it come to your spoiled ass déjame oírte decirlo.”

more tears fall from your eyes as you feel your lower region bubble in evstasy. “con—“

“say it if you wanna cum.” connie’s grip around your neck tightens as he inevitably starts to babble. he was not gonna let up off you no matter what. “come on mama, say it n lemme give you another baby. gonna make you a mama all over again, want you so full of my babies, pretty—fuck,” he breathed out. “you know daddy sorry, you gonna forgive him?”

it wasn’t until connie started to add his thumb rubbing circles around your clit did you finally fold and give in. “oh fuck, yes! yes yes i forgive you con—please—“

“go head and cum mami, te quiero.” connie breathed out, feeling his own orgasm approach. “te amo joder joder por favor dame más hijos mami te estoy rogando déjame correrte dentro de ti,” the man curses into the atmosphere as he strokes himself in you a few more times.

“yes yes,” you nod in response to his pleads of cumming in you. a nanosecond later, connie’s cumming deep into you until he ends up shooting nothing but blanks. you’re full to the brim to the point where drops of his cum couldn’t help but ooze out between your puffy cunt.

“dio mio.”

[gloxk]

Sneaky linkin’

(Eren Y. Armin A. Connie S.)

A/N: i’m not COMPLETELY back, but I am making a slight improvement w my mental health… so here’s sum slight for yall🤷🏽‍♀️. I kinda hate this but maybe yall will like it..ion know. Luv ya tho. 17+.

Synopsis: Aot men as sneaky links.

Warning: Smut.. F/M

━━━━━━━⚠︎━━━━━━━

Eren! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ———Back seat bandit

Eren..is definitely a back seat bandit. It’s mainly because he has a nice car, why not show it off?

Now, all i’m going to say is (Persian rugs- jacquees version.) Oh lawwwd, he definitely plays that while giving the most sloppiest, nastiest, messiest, back arching back shots ever. This man does NOT play.

Hair puller, choker, dirty talker. He’s the type to make you tell him how good he’s fucking you. “Uh-huh, right there? You like that baby?” And you better tell him too.

The hair pulling thing just comes by instinct. You could be giving this man the sloppiest head ever, deep throating him till hes hitting the back of your esophagus and all. The type of head that makes him feel like he’s shifting reality. He will tug your hair to get a real good look at your face, saliva dripping down your chin and red coating your face. A face that just screams ‘ Am I making you happy?’. He would stare at you with a shit eating grin just while the camera flash hits your face.

Degrading as fuck. He would just say some shit to boost his ego during sex. “I know you like that shit, stop acting like you don’t.” & “You can scream my name louder than that. Try again.” & “Stop fuckin running.” Don’t be fooled now, he’s also going to talk you through it and give you reassurance. “You doin so good f’me.” & “it’s all yours mami.” & “You look so pretty right now.”

Ugh this man just loves to have his hand wrapped around your body. Around your waist, neck, thighs, hands—it don’t matter to him. He loves touching on you. Any time yall link his hands just find their way over your body.

Connie! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ——— Any time any where

Connie..is the type of guy who can fuck ANYWHERE. Car, room, closet, random family bathroom at a gas station—he don’t care.

If you’re down, he’s down. Y’all could be out shopping and he fucks you in the dressing room.

This man LOVES when you ride him. He would just watch you in awe while you bounce up and down on him.

Definitely a talker during sex, he loves telling you how good you’re doing. “Mhm—fuck—I love when you do that.” & “Cmoonn look at me while you do it.” & “Arch that back mama.”

Now, he’s a recorder. He records everything. He has a little folder in his phone dedicated to your link ups.

Although he’s gonna dick you down anywhere he can, his favorite place is the shower. Got some music playing in the background (P power - gunna) while he’s plowing into you. The shower couldn’t even cover up your loud moans.

Pull out ? Nah, “You wanna be grown, let’s be grown baby.” He doesn’t believe in wasting, so either you sucking it up or taking that shit.

Armin! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ——— munch

Armin..is an eater. He’s gonna eat like it’s his last meal every fucking time. His tongue game is vicious. Absolutely diabolical, the messiest head you will ever get.

Salvia dripping on the couch, tears falling from your eyes due to overstimulation, legs locking around his head—he still wouldn’t stop. He won’t stop till you force him to.

Hold on now, Armin ain’t just an eater, he got good dick too. He’s a saint that’s gonna fuck you like a sinner. Let him get some liquor in his system and you’re going to be begging for round 2.

Speaking of drunk Armin, he’s gonna fuck you against a wall. Just something that’s going to happen one way or the other. One leg in the air while the other dangles just above the floor, his hands gripping on your ass so hard it leaves a mark.

Oh it doesn’t stop there either, he’s going to stumble his way to the bed and take you there too.

Hella vocal whimpering, moaning, whispering. He’s going to let you know your pussy good. “God-you feel so fuckin good.” & “Please keep doing that.”

Loves teaching you new things, different kinks, positions, anything of the sort. I know he just loves exploring and experimenting things with you. He’s a freaky freak for sure. <3

━━━━━━━⚠︎━━━━━━━

whore…

[toxicanonymity]

EVERY INCH 3.

4.4k words, m!ghostface x f!reader

Every inch 🔪 Every inch 2 🔪 MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Ghostface watches you and calls you. He gets bored, and one of your friends gets killed. You try to swear ghostface off, but he stalks you. You want revenge.

A/N: THANK YOU for all the love. Masked Ghostface, inspired by canon gfs & night walks. HC who you want. Enough recap in the first paragraph to read as a one shot.

WARNINGS: I8+ noncon p in v, exhibitionism, voyeurism, gun play, choking, degradation, slut shaming, drugs, creampie, noncon breeding, phone sex, masturbation, knife play, a modicum of canon-typical plot/violence. Gf calls himself daddy. DEAD DOVE. NO USE OF Y/N. Starts in GHOSTFACE POV.

You aren't doing yourself any favors by thinking about him every time you get off. You should get on tinder. Go on another date. Get a boyfriend. But there's too much now. You've got a video of him whimpering with his cock out after you had your way with him, and a picture of him with cum all over his robe a minute later. And then there's the mirror pic he took in your bathroom. He's behind you, holding you naked in front of him.  There's a look of arousal on your face, and you must be so ashamed, but you keep coming back to look at it every night. . .and you're not the only one. 

Ghostface air dropped it to himself right after he took the pic. You should really be more careful with your settings. And your blinds, and your curtains. But you don't wanna be more careful, do you?  You've got everything the cops could need to put him away. You even had his DNA, and you kept it to yourself. Allll to yourself. And you’d like to have more of it, wouldn't you? It's fascinating, really, how bad you want his cock. 

You haven't heard from him in weeks, but he still comes by every once in a while.  He sees your neighbor check in on you, and you keep looking at the time on your apple watch until he leaves.  He sees you try on your slutty Halloween costumes– your backside looks best in that tight ass nurse dress, but god damn, your tits in that pleather.  What a pretty pussy you are. Meow.  He sees you get dressed for bed, and just in time. 

You check your phone and glance out your bedroom window before you take out your vibrator.  Ghostface takes out his cock and lifts his mask to spit on it. This is his season, you know. You must think about him all the time. Every time you see one of those phony Stab costumes. Every time you carve a pumpkin.  He lets you get a head start building to your climax. God damn, you want that cock, and you do an awful job hiding it when you see the call from a restricted number.  You look at your phone, biting your lip, and let it ring for a few seconds before you wet your lips and answer it. But you don't say anything.  Ohh, playin’ hard to get, are ya?

Ghostface admires the stiffness of his cock in his hand and strokes it while he watches you try not to speak first.  It's quite the game of chicken–at least a full minute of silence. He breathes heavier as he strokes himself, and then he hears the buzz of your toy. 

"Mmm, good kitty."

"What do you want?" Your breathing is heavy, too. 

"Wanna know how bad ya want this cock."

"Is your cock all you think about?"

He breathes a laugh. "That'd make two of us, wouldn't it?" 

You scoff, still touching yourself, teasing your clit with your vibrator.  

"Yeah that's it," he pants, and you arch your back. "Come for daddy."  You come so fast it's pitiful. 

You're easy. Too easy. He's getting bored. 

You're a bad, bad girl, and he wants to find out how bad. You know, he's never much cared for your "friend" Marla. He suspects you don't either, based on the way you tense at her hug in the bookstore.

—-----you-------

A DILF cop comes by your house. Must be new to the force since you've never seen him. You're used to them checking on you. The COP asks if he can come in, probably trying to be thorough,  you think.  But he asks you to take a seat, and he sits down next to you on your sofa.  When he has trouble meeting your eyes, your pulse quickens. 

He knows. He must know somehow. He knows you're a sick fuck who has phone sex with ghostface and gets off to his dick pics every night. Maybe he even knows you fucked him. He might even know you forced him. You're blanking on excuses if they find the photos in your phone. The cop leans forward and his biceps strain the short sleeves of his tan uniform.  He wrings his large, veiny hands as he turns his head to look at you.  Finally, his big brown eyes meet your gaze, and he tells you, "He's back. Got a crime scene down the block"

The relief lasts about ten seconds, and then you don't have to feign your horror. The blood rushes from your head to your pounding heart. You foolishly thought his killing days might be behind him. 

"Officer. . ." 

"Call me Javi."

"How do you know it's him, Javi?" You challenge him. 

"You really wanna know?" He raises his eyebrows at you. 

"It's him, sweetheart." He puts a big, warm hand on your upper back, then slides it up to squeeze your shoulder. "Got someone who can stay with ya?"

You take a few seconds to answer, then whisper, “yeah.” 

"Well, if not . . . " he sighs and leans way back on the sofa to reach into his uniform pants for his wallet. "Got a pen?" 

He writes his personal number on a business card and leaves it with you.  As you let him out the front door, sirens are wailing. 

Later, you see the crime scene online. Marla isn't just dead, she's stabbed, slit, and bled dry. The water runs red in the fountain you pass every day on the way out of your neighborhood.  A needed reminder of the sicko you’re dealing with. 

Over the next few days, you delete the ghostface photos and the video. You get a call from a restricted number and don’t answer it. You get a text from an unsaved number: don’t tell me you thought I changed. 

You delete it. When you’re leaving the neighborhood one day, you spot Javi in an unmarked car. When you get to your destination, you text him “why are you following me?” 

Like a boomer, he calls you instead of texting back.  You don’t answer. Then he replies, “Why don’t you have company? You shouldn’t be alone.” 

You send back, “If I have company, will you leave me alone?”

“I can give you some space, sure. But I have a job to do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Keeping you safe.”

—--

You’re not going to let ghostface control your life. You don’t know what would happen if you ran into him now, and you try not to think about it, although you do find yourself going into the trash folder on your phone to look at what you deleted. You make plans to go out with friends. It’s the first weekend of October, and there’s a huge Halloween festival. You put on your nurse costume.

An hour before your friends arrive, your doorbell rings. You look at your app and it’s Javi. Well, this is awkward, you think as you finish pulling up your black, thigh-high fishnets. You answer the door and let Javi in, trying not to let your eyes linger on the way his arms stretch his sleeves. You decline to sit down. 

“Look, if you’re gonna go out, you should carry this,” he says, then looks you up and down and his gaze lingers on your cleavage. You clear your throat. He swallows and gives a subtle smile like yeah so what?  “Gonna wear a purse?” he asks. 

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You roll your eyes. 

You reluctantly change into the cat costume and wear a bat purse. You go out with your friends and everyone gets way too drunk. Your friend Sam gets in an altercation after a frat party, and your other friends have to restrain her and walk her home. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with it. You insist you’ll be fine since you’re armed.  You decide to walk a couple blocks before you order your ride home so you can wait somewhere with more people around. 

—--ghostface—-

You filthy little slut. Are you enjoying yourself? Ignoring him, playing hard to get, acting like you’re not flattered, then teasing him, prancing around Woodsboro looking like a handjob costs $20. Walking alone through an alley – you really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you? 

Ghostface knows where you’re headed. He’s seen you take this route before, so he gets ahead of you and waits.  He’s vaping in the shadows behind a fire escape in the alley. When he hears the click of your slutty boots, he hits send: a dark alley? lmao. He hears the ding on your phone and the click of your heels slows down right before you reach the fire escape.  no point running, he sends. Then he brings the vape pen under his mask and sucks in a mouth full of smoke, and your phone illuminates your face and your eyes widen.

—--you—--

The alley smells like weed. You’re reading the texts when ghostace appears from behind the fire escape, coming at you with his robe flowing behind him.  He only has one glove on. His gloved hand grabs your throat and he pins you to the wall. You choke and gasp for air. He tilts his mask and a small amount of smoke billows out of the dark mesh at the top of his long, black mouth. He eases up on your throat only to move his hand to your jaw and tighten his grip, squeezing your cheeks to keep your mouth open as the smoke billows thicker and closer. His mask is only an inch from your mouth. You close your eyes and breathe in, and as he releases the smoke into your mouth, your clit throbs.  You've got butterflies in your chest, being close to him again. You cough. 

"Good girl," he says as he relaxes his grip on your jaw.  Then his knee nudges your purse out of the way and wedges your thighs open. 

“Bet ya miss me more than Marla, don’t ya?”

If only he wasn’t right. There’s a fire burning in the pit of your stomach just being close to him. But Javi will probably be here any minute, and you need to put up a fight so they won't be onto you. You abruptly knee ghostface in the groin. He grunts and falls backward only slightly. 

"Bad kitty." He takes you by the throat again as you try to fight back. “Bad, bad girl.” He hasn't brandished his knife, but you know he has it. You can't get your gun out quickly enough. You look at your phone and it flies out of your hand as Ghostface grabs your wrist. 

He lets go of you and picks your phone up off the ground, then walks away, robe trailing behind him as he disappears into the night.  

You try to follow him, but he loses you. The audacity–he shotguns you, gets you all riled up, takes your phone, and leaves you, just assuming you won’t do anything about it. Assuming you’ll chase him. You think about the fountain scene. You think about him leaving you. Rage eclipses your desire. If you see him, you might actually shoot him.  Now all you have is your metro card to get home, and luckily you’re close enough to the train station.  

–-

Scattered groups of drunk college students stumble around, bicker, and laugh. 

The train doors are open and you jog to make it in time, just barely squeezing in before the door closes behind you.  The car is full, but not packed. A Freddy Kruger makes room for you, and you stand with your hand braced on the pole. You get a message on your apple watch, meaning ghostface must be in bluetooth distance. 

always wanted to see you on the pole. 

You look behind you, and there he is, sitting at the back of the car.  You should run, but you’re gonna get your phone back at the very least. There’s too much damage he could do with what’s on it.  As the passengers finish unloading, you discreetly open your purse and put your hand on your gun, then set your sights on ghostface, who’s manspreading and sitting back.  The only other company in the back of the train car is a Michael Myers who looks to be passed out drunk. 

You take out the gun and turn the safety off as you approach ghostface in your slutty cat costume. He pulls back his head and cowers in an exaggerated oh, i’m scared move. He stays quiet, for once. 

“My phone,” you tell him. 

He looks around, pretending like he has no idea what you’re talking about. 

“Now,” you order and put your finger on the trigger. He takes a phone out of his pocket, but it’s not yours. 

“What the hell’s wrong with you,” you ask. The train jolts and you’re propelled onto him.  You brace yourself with your free hand on his strong shoulder, and when you feel his hard muscle, butterflies swarm to your core. If he isn’t going to offer up your phone, you’ll have to find it yourself.  You press the muzzle of the gun into his neck, through the fabric of his mask. He freezes. You reach under his robe and pat him down, finding nothing in the front pockets of his jeans. You should check his back pockets, but first you grab his crotch while you’re at it and laugh when he’s semi-hard. 

“Cock’s the only thing you’re good for, and this is what you’ve got for me?” His mask tilts down, watching you grope him.  You savor the feeling of control. “Worthless,” you spit.  Desire bubbles between your thighs as you feel him harden in your grip. Fuck it, you’re gonna take him one last time. You don’t want the last memory of all this to be him dominating you in your bathroom. You wanna go out on top. You fumble with his button and zipper with your free hand, then command, “Take it out.” 

He tilts his mask at you, then looks behind you as though seeing who’s around. 

“No one’s looking,” you mutter. “Stop fucking around.” You hold the gun to his neck and he urgently takes his hard cock out. You reach down for it. It’s thick and warm in your hand. “Don’t feel half as big as ya look on camera,” you tell him. “Pretty sad.” You spit in your hand and reach for his cock again. “So desperate for my attention,” you mock him. “You’ll do anything, wont ya?”

This is fine, you tell yourself, You’ll tell the cops he forced you, and then you’ll even have his DNA, and they can catch him, and this can all be over. . .after one last ride. 

You put your knees on the seat on either side of him.  You hover over his cock and use your free hand to run the head through your dripping folds, then you sink onto him and bottom out with ease. His cock twitches against your walls, and a shiver races down your spine. Your nipples harden, visible even through your pleather top.  The sheer arousal pisses you off.  He feels too good. A man like this doesn't deserve to be so good at dicking you down, without even trying. Without doing anything.  You move up and down him, and he does exactly nothing. He knows it gets you off. You hate how full he makes you feel. You resent the incomparable pleasure that will linger in your mind, in your whole body, for days. Maybe forever. 

He moans soft enough that the voice changer doesn't pick it up. You wince at the sound of his humanity. 

Something comes over you. “Shut the fuck up,” you tell him as you bring yourself down on his cock again. . “I don't wanna hear your voice." You raise yourself up. "I don’t wanna know who you are." You roll your hips into him.  "I don’t fucking care. I don’t care about you at all," you bite, fucking yourself on his cock, dripping wetter and wetter.  You keep degrading him as you fuck him.  "You’re nothing to me." In your lower belly, a climax is building.  "You’re a faceless cock. Always have been.” He sits motionless as you ride him harder. Maybe it was the weed, but you can’t get enough.

When the train reaches the next stop, you tug down your dress as much as you can and sit still on his cock. You hide the gun between your bodies.

Your watch dings with a notification–an unsaved number. 

how's the 🍆

A shadow eclipses you from behind, and you hear the snap of a picture. Your face goes ice cold. 

"Oh you're a reeeeeal bad girl, aren't ya?" The real ghostface says behind you. All the hair on your body stands up, and your heart pounds as you look at the costume in front of you. The lack of gloves, the quality of fabric, the jeans under it. The cock of a stranger twitches inside you and the gun shakes in your hand. "What the fuck," you mutter. You start to get off the man, but the real ghostface slams you back down on him. 

"Oh don't stop now, kitty. " 

He holds you down on the man's cock. "Lovin’ this Halloween special. sure he is, too. Ain't ya, buddy?" 

"What the hell’s goin' on," the man mutters in a regular voice.

You’re about to berate the man for deceiving you. "You let me,"  then you feel the heavy weight of the gun in your hand and stop short, shame rushing into every blood vessel of your body. 

"Better finish what ya started," the real Ghostface says. "A happy customer won't snitch, right brother?"

When you don't move, Ghostface says, "god damnit," then squats down and wraps his arm around you. "Do I have to do everything?" He lifts you up a little, so the man's cock almost falls out, then drops you back down. He lifts you up and down the man's hard cock, and it's horrifically erotic having Ghostface fuck you on another man's dick. The real Ghostface cock is hard against your back. 

Ghostface adjusts his grip and grabs a tit as he forces you up and down.  The man’s Stab mask tilts down, watching his cock disappear into you again and again. Your lips part, and a moan slips out. 

"Oh, you filthy, filthy girl," Ghostface chides. 

"Shut up," you snap as Ghostface sheaths the man’s cock with you again. 

"Gonna cum for him, pumpkin? Milk his cock?"  

No, God no, this random guy can't cum inside you. Your body stiffens and you shake your head no.

"Oh, c'mon, kitty." 

"No," you whimper.

Ghostface sighs in exasperation and one of his arms leaves your torso for a moment. Then he points his knife at the man you're riding. "Ten seconds." 

Ghostface holds the knife to your throat as he keeps manhandling you on the guy's cock, counting down, "ten," he lifts and lowers you, "nine," stuffing you with the man's cock, "eight,"  and he's only at "seven," when the man flattens his back and arms against the subway seats and shudders as he lifts his hips into you. Ghostface forces you down, and you cry, "no," drowned out by the man's groan as he cums.  You moan at his pulsations. It's sick, disgustingly hot, getting pumped full of this stranger's cum on a subway car with Ghostface holding a knife to your throat. Your spine arches and you begin to convulse, milking the stranger’s cock just like Ghostface told you to. 

"Hellll yeahhh." Ghostface gropes your tit. His cock twitches against your back. He addresses the stranger, "She's hot for a serial rapist, right?" as he lets your weight fully down onto the man. He lets you push yourself off the man, and ghostface holds you by your neck so you won't run.  As the man's cock flops sloppily onto his open jeans, Ghostface tells him, "now get the fuck outta here." The man in the ghostface mask is still zipping up his pants when Ghostface adds, "this one needs a real big cock." Then Ghostface asks you, "don't ya, pumpkin?" And takes the man's seat. 

The train comes to a stop and as the man scurries out of the subway car, he warns other riders not to board the car. He’s removing his mask as the train pulls away, but you don’t get to see him.  Ghostface takes the man's seat and hikes up his robe, revealing his pj pants.  He takes his cock out and manhandles you onto his lap.  You hover. You're not about to hop on his dick, but let’s face it, you’re not gonna put up a fight, either. You're tired. You're confused. You're horny as hell. There must be something in that weed. 

Out the window, everyone is staring as the train slowly pulls away. 

Ghostface hikes your dress all the way up and stares between your legs with the stranger's cum seeping out of you.  

"Look at this mess," he catches the cum with the flat of the knife, cool against your folds. He slowly drags the knife toward himself, then angles it up toward your mound. Then he takes the knife off you.  He wraps his hand around your ass and the handle of the knife rests against your skin.  “Now sit on daddy’s cock.” 

He lifts you onto his cock. He hesitates with his tip notched at your entrance, and you twitch with need. Then he pulls you down, and his thick cock stretches you – a pleasant, easy stretch – as you sink onto him. He's bigger than the cock you just had. 

"What's my favorite movie?" He asks, then begins to move you on his cock. He holds you still. You're dying for friction. "Strangers on a train," he answers for you, and you ignore him.   "Hitchcock's overrated,” Ghostface says. “Now I've got my *own*.” Great, he took a video, too.  This is bad for you, really bad, but all you can think about is the big, hard cock inside you.  He's still not moving, and neither are you.  Your clit is throbbing. You begin to rock your hips as the train slows down . 

Ghostface slaps your ass with his bare hand. "Made for the screen, baby." His hips begin to move under you, finally. You close your eyes, feeling his thick shaft pump in and out of you, sliding with ease through the other man's cum. "Sure can take a cock."  He feels so fucking good.  Why did he have to kill again? Why can't he just fuck you? God his cock feels good. "Bet ya coulda taken us both," ghostface says and his cock twitches inside you. "Ohh, fuck." The train stops. He puts down his knife and takes the gun from you. "Yeah, this hole could take two, no problem." His crude words are making you throb more. You feel people watching from the train window, and your face is hot, but you can't get enough of this cock. "Maybe that's what this filthy cunt needs. Two cocks." Your walls twitch around him. "Ooohhh, like the sound'a that, don't ya?"  You feel an orgasm building in your gut. "Hell yeah, dirty girl."  

The train leaves the station again. “Maybe next time I’ll bring a friend.” he brings the gun to your face. He prods your cheek with the muzzle. Then nudges your lips open and you groan in protest. 

"Give it a kiss, pumpkin'"  You pull your head back and turn your cheek. Your heart is beating out of your chest. Your vision is blurry. Your body is dizzy with pleasure and adrenaline. Ghostface gives up on putting the gun in your mouth. He drags the cool metal down your face, around your neck, to your back, then keeps dragging it down. Then he slouches down in the seat and adjusts your angle on top of him, pulling you tighter against his chest. 

His massive, ungloved hand lifts your ass cheeks out of the way and spreads you wide. He brings you upward, letting most of his cock out, then you feel the cool metal at your dripping entrance. He wedges the cold muzzle of the gun into your pussy right alongside his cock. "Yeah, take it, kitty." 

You groan as he pulls you down on his cock and the gun. What has he done to you? Why is this so hot? "Yeah, knew ya could take two cocks." To your horror, you find your hips rocking. "Fuck yeah," he growls. The barrel of the gun is cool against the back wall of your cunt, and your hole is squeezing his cock tighter now. He wriggles the gun around in a circular motion against his cock. "Ohh yeah."  The train speeds up. "Hold on tight," he warns. He begins to manhandle you on his cock and the gun. You're on the edge. Your asshole tightens and tension swells in your core. 

"Fuck," you whisper. 

He feels it. "Yeah, that's right." You hold your breath. "Cum for me, pumpkin, or I'll make you into pie." Your climax overtakes you and you wince as you clench around the gun and his cock. 

"Goooood giirl," he says with your body jerking around his. "There's daddy's little slut." Wave after wave hits you and your cunt squeezes him and the gun.  He holds you tighter against him and lifts you enough to slide the gun out, leaving your exhausted cunt looser around him. “Yeah, plenty’a room for two.”  You're still having aftershocks. They're not fading, like another one could build. You reach for your clit. "Needy, needy cunt." You rub yourself and he rocks you on his cock until you cum again. 

"Hell yeah," he moans when you clench around him.  Then he erupts inside you with a groan. His cock pulses against your walls as his warm spend mixes with the other man's. "Yeahhh." His cum goes on and on. "Fuck, yeahh." 

As soon as he's finished coming, he pulls you off his lap. He tucks his cock back in his PJs. The train rolls to a stop. 

He pats your lower belly.  “Won’t know who's the father," he chides, "but at least ya know who's daddy."

—

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Next: EVERY INCH 4

May 2024 update - I have 3 more parts outlined.

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THANK YOU FOR READING. If you want more parts, reblogs and comments make all the difference.

Now that you know what happens, it's a solid re-read. Especially when reader is degrading him 😭 lmk your thoughts when you come back to reread lol.

if you liked this smut, you could check out raider Joel meanwhile.

Also BTW gasolinerainbowpuddles is responsible for giving me the kink of degradation about unknown paternity starting with the fic liquid gold which is amazing.

[toastsnaffler]

actually another thing since getting my hair cut properly (sorry for not shutting up abt it) is that I genuinely can't tell how strangers percieve me anymore. like I'm so familiar with my own face that I just look like Me to me.. but when I'm out just walking around are passersby mentally categorising me as Boy or Girl?? I'm so curious

[tojigasm]

pays for everything. and i mean everythinggg. You're getting your hair done, and you call him in the middle of it, twirling a finger around the lace of your top.

"Hey, angel," Felix's voice brings a chripy tone to your own.

"Hi, baby!" You cross your leg over the other, eyes tracing over your newly pedicures toes (also paid for by Felix) "Listen, Lex, I just got my hair done and the lady says its gonna be about--"

Felix cuts you off before you can finish, "Just text me the amount. Can I pay for you to go get some food afterward, too, yeah?"

you smile at yourself in the mirror, "Oh Lex, I dunno, that's too much -"

"I guess you can, i really do appreciate it, Lex. Thank you, " you run your tognue over your plush lip, tasting the cherry of your lip gloss

"Good," you can hear his smile through the phone, "See ya' back at saltburn, yeah?"

You hum, and almost instantly, you're receiving a text that reads:

Lexi Loo sent you $400 with a message attached

You tap your phone to read the attached text.

'Bring back a cute outfit too, wanna see how pretty baby girl looks <3'

He'll also buy you pretty shoes and dresses every now and then by surpise just have you model them for him and to let you go and do more shopping.