Nanami If He Stayed True To His Emo Era

BeefyHimbo!Toji who never pays attention in class so he’s forced to ask you the stupidest questions, but when he hears your sweet, honeyed voice for the first time, he can’t help but to ask more and more and more.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who clumsily leans in closer, committing the warm, cloying scent of your gourmand perfume to memory. Who can’t help but to press his thighs together in a fruitless attempt to dull the ache of his pathetically drooling cock.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who stares up at you dumbly, utter infatuation emanating from his unrelenting gaze, chin resting in the palm of his hand as you solve a simple equation for him in his barren, yet oddly tattered college ruled notebook.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who subconsciously searches for you at the beginning of class, hoping to find a vacant seat beside you. Whose eyes soften when he finally catches a glimpse of your pretty face at the rear of the drab room.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who fishes a singular, wilting daisy from his lint-laden pockets, claiming that he plucked it from the university’s horticulture garden just for you. Who apprehensively presents you with the plainly heartfelt gift, praying you’ll welcome his flattery with enthusiasm.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who beams in his overwhelming excitement when you tuck the withering flower behind your ear, a gracious smile marring your lips. Whose cock grows embarrassingly hard when you mindlessly squeeze the fat of his thigh beside you in appreciation.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who soon excuses himself to flee to the restroom, desperate to relieve the gut wrenching throb of his cock, and unbeknownst to you, it’s all your fault.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who fucks his fist in the farthest stall of the restroom, imagining you sprawled out beneath him, your trembling thighs pressed to the unkempt sheets as he brainlessly stuffs you with the entirety of his cock.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who orgasms so incredibly hard that he’s forced to clamp a big hand over his mouth, thick, syrupy ropes of cum painting the graffitied walls of the public bathroom stall. Who doesn’t even bother to wash his fucking hands afterwards.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who eventually returns to class, flustered, a mysterious, dark stain adorning the gray fleece of his sweatpants. Who can hardly look you in the eyes as he plops down beside you, ashamed of how much of a slut he is for a girl he’s convinced wouldn’t give him half a chance.

But, when BeefyHimbo!Toji discovers that you’re not entirely opposed to the notion after a long night of fruitless studying, a switch flips.

Now, BeefyHimbo!Toji has you pressed apart on his disheveled, plaid sheets just as he imagined, your sobbing pussy taking his cock to the base over and over and over again, his large hands keeping you wide and accessible and all fucking his.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who’s utterly incapable of comprehending just how big his cock is in comparison to your slobbering little holes. Who can’t mentally grasp the fact that he’s so much larger than you.

And BeefyHimbo!Toji who accidently cums sooo fucking deep inside of you because he’s too distraught by his animalistic need to fuck and breed that he can’t possibly imagine cumming anywhere other than your sweet, welcoming cunt.

But… can you actually blame him? He doesn’t know any better, what did you expect? :(

note: hey, you! if you’ve read this before, don’t be alarmed! this is just a re-upload from my previous blog which was unfortunately marked as explicit. i’m in the process of transferring all of my work over to this blog. thanks for bearing with me, pretty! <3

love, ny

Something I'd say tbh

Isagi???? What in the omegaverse is this??

Why didn't steve do this smh

Back To The Future

Summary: Your husband is Steven Grant Rogers but he crashed a plane into the ocean.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader

Steve had promised you that he’d always come back for you. You weren’t too keen on him doing the super soldier serum but shit, he wanted to be able to protect the love of his life along with his country. It honestly shocked you to see your husband taller and stronger instead ill and weak and asthmatic. He could finally hold you how he always wanted to.

You were sad. You were depressed when you found out that your husband died in the war. You both wanted to start a family after it was all over. You couldn’t find yourself another man like Steve. Peggy Carter took you under her wing. She herself found her own Steve, Daniel Sousa.

“Get out! Get yourself out!” You exclaimed. “You’ve got Danny!”

“No way in hell am I leaving you here to defuse a bomb,” Peggy said.

“Go! I’ve got this! Please just do me this favor for once, Agent Carter!” You yelled.

“You better make it back alive,” she said.

“I will,” you promised her.

She ran and you ran in the other direction. Time was ticking down. You raced to the bomb and were thankful that you slipped on Steve’s old pair of Chuck Taylor’s before going off and helping Agent Carter on her mission that she wasn’t supposed to be doing. You get to the device looking for the perfect wire to cut.

What was supposed to happen was you cut the wrong wire and the bomb explodes killing you instantly. But Steve stands behind you in his quantum suit. He reaches out placing a device in between your shoulder blades. A matching red and white suit starts covering you. His arms wrapped around you. He slips one of the extra watch things that Tony gave him onto your hand before you freak out. He’s quick to press the button on yours and then he presses his as the bomb explodes.

“Wha? Wha- what? Where?” You asked freaking out and your helmet comes off.

You’re standing on a platform right outside of a cabin. A green dude is standing behind these controls that aren’t from your time. He’s shocked as well.

“Darlin’,” Steve said.

You spin around to see your husband standing before you. You slapped him across the face and it stung both your hand and his face. Bucky laughs as well as Sam.

“You aren’t supposed to be bringing people back!” Bruce exclaimed.

“You’re supposed to be dead and where the hell am I?!” You asked.

“It’s 2023, honey. You were supposed to die cutting the wrong wire,” Steve explained with his hands on your biceps. “And I always told you that I’d come back for you.”

“I thought you meant by coming back home after the war was over! Not taking me to the future!” You exclaimed. “Are you an idiot or something?!”

“Yes, he is!” Bucky added.

You turned your head to see your husband’s best friend stand beside this other man.

“You’re supposed to be dead!” You yelled pointing at Bucky.

You and Steve come off the platform. You immediately hugged Bucky since you’re more mad at Steve than him. Bucky happily hugs you back but without the left arm.

“You’re supposed to be dead as well, doll,” Bucky said and he kissed your cheek.

He spins you around to face your husband once more. Steve just smiles at you. You go into his strong arms and he holds you tightly. His lips pressed against yours.

He came back for you.

PINK BOWS | NANAMI KENTO

syn. your boyfriend is scared of intimacy, but for all the reasons you never expected.

── virgin!nanami kento & fem-bodied!reader, established relationship, panty kink, masturbation, sexual fantasies, accidental vouyerism, etc | 3.1k words ( minors, ageless & blank blogs : do not interact )

note. a fic i found in drafts that i never got around to posting.

Nanami had been raised to value his future career-wise over all else. Taking his parents’ teachings to heart, he solely focused on his career, making sure that he followed the path to becoming someone who was financially stable and didn’t need to stress over bills and obligations. However, that seemed to be the only merit to it— not having to worry and being able to live a lavish life. They didn’t mention the exhaustion he would experience, putting excruciating hours in working behind a desk. They didn’t tell him how robotic it would feel to wake up for most days to get ready, go to work, and come back home at late hours to only eat takeout and fall straight to sleep. 

Barely a social life because all of his friends and the people close to him are always busy and when they do have the time, he unfortunately doesn’t. It was such a period of lonesomeness for Nanami, surviving but never really living. It wasn’t until a rare occasion of getting off of work early that he found himself in a bar, hitched up at a stool and slouching over the counter with a glass of whiskey nestled in his hand. He let out a deep sigh as he felt like this is the most rest he’s gotten ever since becoming a salaryman. In his blue button and animal print tie, he loosens the decorative piece and unbuttons the first few of his shirt as he slouches.

The sound of jazz playing through the speakers and the voices of other customers piling in on the Friday evening. He’s unaware of the pair of eyes that have settled on him this evening, the fine dime that watches two seats to his right. In a cute black backless dress that hugs every curve, you admire the blonde beauty that seems so exhausted. The way he composes himself, you can tell that he’s a reserved man and if anything, you’d have to be the one making a move on him. In your hand, a Sex on the Beach, the fruity drink gets disposed of in a few chugs before you’re standing on your heels and pulling out the stool right next to him. The scraping of the chair legs finally calls for his attention as his chestnut-colored eyes come into view. 

He wonders how you were able to do it so quickly. The many times he’s been approached by women in the office, he was always quick to turn them down. However, with you, he didn’t feel that inclination to deny you. You spoke as if it was your right to have him, the way your eyes twinkled as you smiled up at him and started an easy conversation beginning with a simple “hey!” You had so much charm to you that it loosened him up, and while you carried on most of the conversation, he found himself deeply captivated by you as you were him. 

At the end of the night, both of you exchanged numbers. You gnawed on your bottom lip, eyes flickering to his with a desire that he wasn’t used to seeing. You started to inch closer in hopes of something more, but you felt his body tense up when your lips ghosted him as you stood on your tippy-toes as he backed away. He cleared his throat, quickly dismissing the failed kiss and bidding you a farewell. “Have, uh— have a lovely night,” he stammered out before his leather shoes clicked on the hard concrete and he turned his back on you. 

Leaving you alone in the chilling night, you were grateful for the lack of people to witness your embarrassment before your heels clicked against the sidewalk as you walked in the other direction. He remembered feeling such guilt for leaving you hanging like that, and he felt anger within himself for doing the same to him. He’d love to have a taste of those plump and glossy lips of yours. Do they taste as sweet as you look? However, that curiosity died as his anxiety overcrowded his brain and spoke against his better judgment, his mind chastising him for a week as he stared at your phone number, neither one of you having the strength to message first. 

It’s pathetic how he deprives himself of something— someone— he wants. Someone he needs. Because only the heavens know how much Nanami needs this. Thankfully the gods listen to his pleas and his incessant whining, granting him the courage to finally message you first and ask you out on a date. It took you a couple of hours to respond back, debating with yourself if you should really go out with a man who backed away from a kiss. However, you figured that you were only being too fast and he wanted to take things slow. 

  He took you out to a food mall, a large building backed with restaurants, bakeries and cafes all in one setting. It proved that he was truly paying attention to you when you were droning on and on back in that bar. Dressed in a pink sundress that flowed down your body, each strut you took had Nanami mesmerized when you got excited and ran off to look at something. Your eyes would sparkle as a worker would come and hand you a little skewer to try. And for once Nanami was happy with his job, grateful to be able to spend ample of money on a pretty thing such as yourself. He didn’t care how much he spent on you, as long as he got to see the way your eyes lit up as you beckoned him to follow right behind you. 

Winning over each other’s hearts, you placed the titles of boyfriend and girlfriend on each other. Nanami was content with it, happy to spend time with you— to hug and hold you close whenever you came to visit him and vice versa. However, while he was complacent in the place where your relationship stood, you weren’t. When you finally managed to kiss him, they were always a peck and never lasted for too long, and even when he held you, that felt awkward. 

You could never rest on his lap, your head always against his chest. When you tried to deepen the kiss, he’d always pull away. Dammit, when you tried to take it even further, thinking that you were ready to sleep with him, he’d always break that sexual tension that lingered in the air, cutting his visit short. 

He treated you so well in almost every aspect except for the ropes of intimacy. Were you doing something wrong?

—

Nanami felt guilty for how he’d pull away, and deny you of what you wanted. He really did, but you really didn’t understand what you do to him. He felt weak and pathetic about how just being in such close proximity to his girlfriend made him feel. How his cock would create a tent in his pants and he struggled to conceal it. How had you not noticed? His body would shudder every time you tried climbing on his lap, his entire body stiffening as you’d do so. When you tried to deepen the kiss, he felt like he was a high school boy again, near to releasing in his pants. Things would escalate and he was afraid of the possible embarrassment he would feel for his inexperience. 

He should know better. He should know that you, his sweet little girlfriend, would always be so understanding and love him regardless. Something that he shouldn’t be so ashamed of. What was there to be? For you to know that your boyfriend loves you so much that he finds your presence to be an excruciating turn on? That a simple peck on his lips drives him crazy? That a single hug made him want to devote the rest of his life to you? He knows this conversation will happen sooner or later. But, for right now, he’d prefer it later. 

Standing outside your apartment door, he unlocks the door with ease, pushing it gently open. Your car’s not outside, but you should be home soon according to your work schedule. He had forgotten some work from his last visit, wanting your company while he caught up on the tedious workload, but ultimately forgetting it by the time that he left. Entering your small abode, the chill of inside greatly contrasts the heat of outside as he shuts the door behind him. He kicks off his shoes, a habit of his as he makes a beeline straight to your bedroom. Your bedroom door is wide open and he can spot just what he needs right on the desk that he claims as his own as you barely use it. 

He reaches for the stack of paper when he takes notice of a flimsy piece of fabric lying on the ground. Letting go of the documents, the sound of his footsteps echo through the room. Bending on his knees, he picks up a pair laced white panties with a pink bow right at the center. It has pink trimmings and in Nanami’s hand, they feel silky to the touch. He curses to himself for this type of intrusion. You’ve come to trust him so much to give him a spare key to your apartment, but here he is violating it to hold your dirty pair of panties and having the nerve to get hard while he’s at it. 

“Fuck,” he curses, looking at the crotch of your undergarment to see a dirty patch of your discharge. The way he can feel his cock strain in his khaki work pants makes him feel embarrassed and dirty, his face heating up in a shade of red. However, he never throws down the flimsy garment. He doesn’t stop himself from bringing it up to his nose, taking a heavy waft to know what you smell like. The musky scent of sweat and the pungent scent of your discharge overflowing his senses is overwhelming, feeling how his cock twitches inside his pants. He lets out a stuttered breath, his free hand going to cup his erection in some sort of attempt to let go of some of the tension. 

Veins protruding his hands as he palms himself, hands running along his girth. He can feel precum leaking from his tip. He hisses with how the urethra runs against the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs, wanting relief from its confined torture. He used to think of himself as a better man than this, a man who wouldn’t succumb to lust. However, the longer he withholds himself from you, the stronger the urge and his resolve is breaking— or, it has already broken. 

He finds himself sitting on the very edge of your bed, toes curling as he brings himself to undo his belt, letting the buckle fall as he loosens it. He unzips his pants, providing further relief to himself before he’s shimmying out of his pants and underwear. His work shirt rides up, revealing the blonde happy trail that leads to his cock. A dark shaft in comparison to his bright pink head, it’s swollen with lust as he continues to drip of precum. 

Nanami glances at the clock sitting on the ivory-colored nightstand. You’ll be back in less than an hour, which should be ample of time to get himself off before disappearing. He just has to make sure that he cleans up after himself well. His heart races at the excitement, which only makes him more turned on for this endeavor. Cupping his balls, he fondles them before letting your panties drop, them landing on his lap before he drapes it around his length. It looks pretty like this, he can’t help but think. He fixes the next hole down his cock before gripping the base of his length. Spit pools in his mouth before it lands on his pelvis, making him swipe the glob down. He smears it down his length, painting himself with the innocent body fluid. 

The palms of his hand are cold, making him tense up as he hikes up one leg for the pad of his foot to rest on the edge of your bed frame. The metal digs into the heel of his foot as he sets a moderate pace, toes curling as he can only think about you. He imagines your plump lips wrapped around his length, taking him in so slowly as those beady eyes of yours would look at him so innocently. Batting your eyelashes at him while you have your mouth open, on your knees so pliantly as he guides his cock to your lips. Precum smeared over your lips just how you like to decorate your lips with gloss. They’d shine so beautifully and smell just like him, too. You’d work your mouth like a pro, taking him inch by inch and making his mouth fall open as he’d throw his head back. 

This is all he thinks about when he’s pumping his cock, his grip tightening as he can only imagine. It’s shameful with how quick that coil in his stomach approaches, a choked up gasp leaving his lips as his cock twitch. His hold tightens around the base as he uses the next hand to cup at his balls with your panties wrapped around it. He can imagine you wearing these, how they’d hug you so cutely.

You’d be stripping out of your clothes slowly, in an effort to tease. They’d work, too. Shredding each layer of clothing until you’re in nothing but those same pair of panties before sauntering over to him seductively. And when you’re in front of him, forcing him to look up at you as you push him to lay down. You’d crawl over his body, your bare breasts hanging freely as you rest your ass down on his pelvis. You’d grind your hips so sweetly wearing those white laced panties, pink trimmings and a pink bow right in the middle, telling him to claim his prize. 

You’d grind your hips amazingly, putting him in a trance as you have his cock aching for more than the rock of your hips. His fingers digging into your flesh before trying to bring you even closer to him. You’d manage to make him whimper out the most pathetically filthy whines and whimpers known to man. He knows it. He just knows it. 

He knows it by the drawn out moan he makes when he releases on the white tiles, spurting out a load that should be stuffed inside of you. He throws his head back, nearly slipping off the bed before he catches himself. It feels euphoric to let himself go, to give into his cravings for you. If only you were here though, he sighs. It feels pointless to voice that if the person he craves the most isn’t here. 

But, speaking of the devil, you’re parking next to his silver Lexus, your 2010 Honda looking shabby in comparison to the up-to-date vehicle that belonged to your boyfriend. You hum in content, your eyes lighting up in anticipation to see your boyfriend. Parking the car, you reach for your handbag as you climb out the vehicle. With the click of a button, your car is locked as you climb the two-story flight to your apartment. You’re out of breath by the time you’re in front of the door and fishing for the right key off of your keychain. 

He promised himself that it would be quick, but Nanami’s still fucking his fist. His carnal desire for you pouring throughout in this moment, not hearing the shuffle of the locks from your front door. So absorbed in this lustful moment as he squeezes the tip, his fingers coated in his seed as he quickens the pace. 

You can see his shoes resting in the right corner while you hang your bag on the rack and shimmy out of your cardigan, kicking off your flats gently. While he can’t hear you, you hear him— the deep sounds of his voice grunting and panting from afar. With furrowed eyebrows, confusion fills you before realization as you near your bedroom. The wet sounds of plat, plat, plat echoing as you take careful steps. Your heart races as your eyes widen when you take a peek inside of your bedroom to see the compromising state of your boyfriend. 

Sitting on your bed with his pants resting a bit above his knees. His cock, spent as he strokes it. You can see the jagged line of his cum squirted out on the floor, strays catching his pants and the rest dripping from his fist. Arousal pools immediately as you silently watch, clenching your thighs together as you shuffle on your footing. You’ve been unknowingly holding your breath, your face heating up as you watch this moment. Your mouth dries up, gulping as your eyes flicker to his length as you watch his languid movement. His hip bucking in further need. It’s then do you see the strikingly bright shade of white and hints of pink, falling under realization that he’s jerking off with your panties wrapped around him. Shit, you curse as you start to heave. You cup your heat in need, thighs trapping your hand as you grind into your digits. 

“Shit,” Nanami curses, calling out your name as he can feel his balls tighten and his legs stiffen. “Fuck, I need you.”

With another orgasm, it’s not as copious as the previous, the trail following a shorter path as he paints his hand in his seed. Hips stuttering, he brings himself to lean back, using his cleaner hand to hold up his weight to bring himself back to reality. A fog full of stars and ecstasy clouding his vision before it’s all cleared up. He thinks he’s alone. He thinks the coast is all clear until he’s sitting up and right at the door way you’re standing there. He gasps, calling out your name in shock.

You feel like a deer caught in headlights, but this is your apartment after all. Eyes dilated as your hand is still stuffed in between your legs, you let out a heavy breath. It’s nice to know that all your worries about your relationship seem to get relieved at this moment as you quickly become elated. 

You start to saunter towards him, just as he envisioned. Only, you’re fully clothed when you push him down on the bed. His eyes widen as he calls out, “Wait. I—”

You cut him off, taking his cum-coated hand and bringing it to your lips. Tongue sticking out, you clean him all up and all his worries dissipate as he curses once more, fuck. “Whatever it is, promise that we work through it together, ya?”

Nanami nods, speechless and he puts all of his trust in you and his cock hardens again. He was a fool to be so worried. Finally, he’s able to mutter out a single word. “Yeah, okay.”

subscriptions ── @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @satsattoru @blcknebula @tojirin

Where am I gonna find a man like this

with toji you know it’s not his first kiss. he’s experienced, he’s probably kissed so many people before you. it’s all that is swirling in your head as you climb into his lap where he motioned for you to go just seconds ago, staring at him wide-eyed with your heart feeling like it’s gonna explode out of your chest.

once you’re situated, straddling his thighs, your knees digging into the couch beneath you, your arms around his neck, he places his big hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

“you nervous?” he asks and your eyes dart, as you feel your face heat up.

“yes,” you reply and toji rasps out a chuckle, deep and fond, all adoration and sparkle.

“me too,” he replies and your heart stutters slightly as he grabs your chin and presses your lips together for a short while. your eyes flutter closed and you’re simply dazed when he pulls away, blinking at him like an owl.

“nothing to be scared of, baby, it’s just me,”

then he kisses you again. and again, and again, and again. short, chaste kisses to your lips, barely letting you feel the scar you like so much. and then he kisses your cheek, and your nose, and your chin, and your forehead until you whine, tugging on his shirt in an attempt to get closer.

“don’t tease me,” you huff, aiming at his lips, but he easily dodges, making you kiss his jaw instead. and you scoff, grabbing his face with your hands, cupping his cheeks and pressing your lips together.

this time he deepens the kiss, moving his lips against yours, and you follow along clumsily, trying your best to keep up.

“my pretty baby,” he murmurs against your lips, swallowing your little gasps and sighs.

you feel hot. toji is warm and big and by now rugged hands have gone from playing with the hem of your shirt to pressing against your bare skin, trailing up your back, holding you closer as if that’s somehow possible.

and when you pull away, trying to catch your breath, he follows for a second, before you giggle, your hands threading through his hair and tugging him away.

toji smiles. his lips are kiss-bitten and you bet yours are too. it’s hard to tell how much time has passed, and you feel shy all of a sudden, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, pressing little kisses there.

comforting hands rub your back.

“still nervous?”

“no, i’m okay. thank you.”

OTOYA IS SUCH A COMEDIAN.

Canon

(only he can)

Bed Chem does remind me of nanami as soon as I heard it

Being married for years now, it’s standard practice to subject Nanami to whatever pop hit of the week you’re currently obsessed with. And by obsessed, you mean repeating it over and over and over again until he finds himself humming the chorus on the train ride to work, even though he’s alone and the song isn’t even playing.

The two of you are driving back home after spending the weekend at your parent’s house. You’re singing the lyrics out loud, staring out the window with a cheerful smile on your face. He holds your hand on the center console, fingers interlocked, while he steers the wheel with his other. After memorizing these godforsaken lyrics beyond his own will, he finally asks, “What is this song even about?”

You turn to face him, lowering the volume, giving him a lousy answer. “It’s about bed chem!” He glances over at you, looking for you to elaborate, which you don’t. All you do is repeat, “Bed chem, Kento. Bed chem!”

He chuckles, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at whatever ridiculous slang the new generation is using nowadays. “Bed chem?”

You clear your throat, preparing yourself to give him the definition like some sort of spelling bee judge. “Bed chem. Having really good chemistry in the bedroom. Being sexually compatible. Matching each other’s freak. Bed chem.”

Nanami doesn’t even want to ask you to elaborate on the last example. “Is this what the youths are calling it nowadays?”

You giggle, squeezing his hand gently. “I guess so.”

He pulls into the driveway, foot on the brake as he reaches for the garage door opener, pressing it. “So what about us?”

You eye him suspiciously as he enters slowly. “What do you mean?”

He turns the car off, closing the garage door behind you. “Do we have bed chem?”

“I don’t think we’d be together this long if we didn’t,” you laugh, gazing into his eyes.

“Hm, I don’t know,” he hums, leaning closer, lips grazing your ear. “Do I pick you up? Pull them down?” His hand slides underneath your skirt, fingers teasing your clothed pussy.

“Kento,” you breathe out, spreading yourself wider in the seat, loving the way he rubs you through your panties.

“Do I talk so sweet when I’m doing bad things?” He hooks the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down your thighs, pressing a finger directly to your throbbing clit. “Is that bed chem?”

You’re too entranced by his seduction to tell him how impressed you are that he knows the lyrics. Nodding, you whimper, “Yes,” taking his fingers until you come with his name pouring out of your mouth in breathy moans.

It doesn’t take you long to reiterate to Nanami that the two of you do in fact have “bed chem”; you ride him in the driver’s seat, making him spill his creampie inside you with his tongue stuck down your throat, further proving your point. Though, a simple reminder doesn’t hurt one bit.

This is it.

It Is Knowing*

HI THANKS FOR EVERYTHING. It’s been a wonderful ride. Here’s the last part of Bag of Tricks. It’s tender and smutty and stupid. All mistakes are my own.

Please stop reading if you are not over 18!

Bag of Tricks Masterlist

He’s terrified.

Suddenly he’s looking at you one way, and then in a flash, the same dumb grin you always give him— the crooked one on the cusp of an ill joke— turns bright white.

It goes brilliant like star fire and during a storm inside a standard-issued cabin hideout, Bucky thinks he must be losing his mind.

Keep reading

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Toji has a special technique to make you forget things.

Warnings: Fluff, Suggestive Content

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

Toji loves to flex his muscles when he’s in trouble with you. He nearly whores himself out when he sees a frown on your face. He tries to make it subtle, but he couldn’t be more painfully obvious.

“Toji, what did I tell you about–” You begin, and when you look over, Toji is taking off his shirt.

“Whew, I had such a great workout today.” Toji cuts you off, putting his arms up to lean against the doorframe. The son of a bitch knows it works, but you look away before you forget your train of thoughts.

“Don’t leave your dirty–” You continue and Toji interrupts you once again.

“I can pick you up with one arm.” He reminds you, walking over to you and doing just as he told you. He lifts you off the floor using one arm, but he uses both to carry you to the bed. You’re kicking your feet in the air and yelling,

“You ass! Let me scold you!” You hear him chuckle before putting you down on the bed. You can’t stay mad when Toji looks so… Your eyes are wandering down his body. He can whore himself out as many times as he likes.

“I see you staring, you pervert.” Toji teases, and you ignore him as you continue staring.

“You have some big boobs.” You comment, and Toji rolls his eyes. Boobs. Yeah, what a great choice of words for his well defined pecs. “Do you need a bra?”

“Why would I need one when your hands are available?” He responds, and you giggle. One thing about him, he sure knows how to use his body in his favor.

“Yeah…” You respond, eyes staring at his body like the big pervert you are. Until you see a dirty sock from the corner of your eye, reminding you that you have a purpose. You aren’t just a pervert that loves to stare at her whore of a boyfriend. “But I can’t because I have to pick up your dirty socks.”

“C’mon, baby.” Toji grabs your hand and guides it to his torso. From his chest all the way down to his abdomen.

“Whore.” You spit at him, and he chuckles. You can call him whatever you want, but his method still works.