#not again pls (i thought) i've moved on from this man i can't

[zhongrin]

"So.. my dearest Meirin, you wanted to see who would win if a God would fight a .. prince?", the deep voice of your husband rang into your ear as you felt his hands exploring your body. It wasn't Zhongli anymore. It was Morax himself.

You felt the hot breath of the God himself on your neck, while the hot breath of the Prince of the Devildom was fanning against your ear. "How about we show you then?", he spoke, merely a whisper - yet in quite a seductive tone, as his hands were on your waist - pulling you closer towards him, he was standing behind you.

It was quite a scene indeed being caged between a God (infront of you) and a Prince (behind you), in a secluded room - where no one could hear or see what you are doing in it.

You were sure no one outside this room could hear what you are talking about, your words, your begs, your pleads, your moans or your screams even.

You knew these thoughts thrilled the men around you up. It was a matter of time until they will give into the desire.

The next sentence, which fell of Morax lips, made you even squirm around a bit.

"I am sure none of us would lose with such an adorable pet with us. I would rather say.. she would lose.", he licked over his lips in anticipation as he gave your neck a long lick with his forked tongue.

"You.. will lose yourself into pleasure."

You felt how Diavolos big hand was slowly losing itself into your underwear.

"Seems like a win to me.."

~ 💐

if yall don't hear from me just know that i might be bedridden bc of these two goodbye 🙏🏻

[mr-ribbit]

gonna rant again bc im seeing a lot of trans women on my dash having to carry the heavy lifting to argue for their basic respect and a lot of other queer people who want to ??? get mad about that apparently. for the record as usual: im tme, im not speaking for anyone besides myself and my perspectives, but I am trying to reach out to fellow tme people to level with y'all from inside the house.

i thought we all got past the 'calling people gendered terms when theyve asked you to stop' thing in like. 2012. i swear we were allllll on board with not calling women dude anymore, nerfing sir and ma'am, neutralizing collective terms for groups, and all of that was like, during the onceler era. that's how we got off-putting shit like folx into the mix - remember???? why are we here again.

to those who I've seen claiming that they REALLY genuinely don't want to offend anyone, and that theyre trying to understand the dude thing, and they don't want to be seen as transmisogynistic when they aren't: ok. let's talk about it. step one, stop sending that really loaded anon to a trans woman you don't know, and close that in-group hatepost with 100 replies from people name-dropping trans bloggers they don't like. try to open your mind and assume for the duration of this post that I am not cynically trying manipulate thousands of tumblr users into making Bro the next big swear word, but a fellow queer human being who thinks you're all being pretty intentionally obtuse about an upsetting trend in our community

to be clear: this post is about the issue of trans women being called bro, dude, man, etc., particularly in recent tumblr discourse about transmisogyny, and the backlash they face if they get upset about it. this is also maybe moreso about the shitty ass excuses I see tme people make for why they supposedly can't stop doing this.

so let's go through some of the things I've been seeing people say they don't understand, supposedly in earnest, about this issue

"I DIDNT USE DUDE AS A MASCULINE TERM. I CALL EVERYONE BRO. MAN IS A GENDER NEUTRAL TERM"

I'm not actually going to exhaust my list of reasons why dude/bro/man are not strictly neutral, but you should be pretty aware that all words have context. Dude might be seen as neutral in many contexts, sure, but 'woman who is frequently called a man by others' is a situation where the context adds extra meaning to your words, just like calling someone "sweetie" might be neutral in some cases, but if you've got the context of knowing that's your coworker who's half your age, it's a bit less neutral. If you're not capable of reading that context and being tasteful about when you say dude, then you need to at least be ready to respond gracefully when someone asks you to stop. This is the part I'd rather focus on.

"BUT I DIDNT MEAN IT THAT WAY. IM NOT TRANSPHOBIC"

I think you should consider broadening your perspective *beyond* your intention behind the word. people may already understand that you meant the word neutrally and therefore didn't have transmisogynistic intent, but that's not really the entire scope of what people are saying. if that's your only concern, you're just trying to clear your record, not actually listen to what they're saying.

there are lots of words people don't enjoy being called, and in most cases, when they say 'pls don't call me that', people respect that and move on. even if the word isn't a slur, if it hurts someone's feelings, we all as a society have agreed that it's pretty shitty to keep calling them that. if your friend asked you not to call them 'buddy' anymore because their dead grandparent called them that, or something equivalently personal, you'd probably respect that instead of telling them 'but I call everyone buddy!!' right? even if you didn't really understand why it bothered them so much?

there is a prominent tendency for trans women to be denied this privilege, and when they ask not to be called dude or bro, people don't seem to respect this request as much as they would in other situations. when I accidentally use a gendered word and someone tells me they don't like it, I try to respond with something like "my bad, I didn't mean it as misgendering but I can see you were still bothered by it, so I'll try not to keep saying it. sorry!" and most people are willing to accept that. when trans women ask people this favor, a lot of people get VERY defensive, and treat the request as inane or unfair, instead of just apologizing and moving on. this is why people are upset when this happens, and it's why people are calling your actions transmisogynistic

also like you might not be doing this, but a lot of people DO use dude and bro in an intentionally gendered way to make trans women uncomfortable. it's a power play bigots use to talk down to them or otherwise maliciously harass them. do you know what arguments they use to defend that behavior when called out on it? 'oh I call everyone that' 'dude is gender neutral calm down' 'dont overreact its just a word'. by acting like this, youre all just giving credence to those same arguments.

"WELL THEY SHOULDNT GET SO MAD AT ME WHEN I DIDNT MEAN ANY HARM"

they can get as mad as they want!! also, are you sure they're 'mad'? or are they just expressing their feelings about a negative topic to you, and it makes you feel bad, so you have to make them out to be unreasonably emotional? how do you think they should have phrased 'dont call me that' to better spare *your* feelings?

also like, in most cases, these women do not knowww you. if your main response to someone saying you disrespected them is to say "I didnt mean it that way, I meant it in a friendly neutral way", well that's NOT YOUR FRIEND! she has no idea what your opinions are or what you think of her!!! she has no reason to assume you only upset her in a friendly way and not a bad unfriendly way! but she did get upset, and she did the one thing she can do which is *tell you what upset her* and your response is to say "well actually you shouldn't be upset at all"??????

and another thing:

it's not just the issue of using the word 'dude', it's because you're coming off extremely dismissive of women who have asked you to stop doing something that harms them, and because your argument is basically that they just shouldn't be so bothered by it. or that they're stupid, irrational, or otherwise crazy for telling you that it bothered them at all, just because you Technically used a gender neutral word according to Your Rules. be honest, does that seem fair? If people were calling you something that bothered you enough to ask them to stop, and they responded like this, how would it make you feel?

focusing solely on your intent and what the words mean when you use them is the same thing as saying "just get over it". no woman should need to Prove to you that 'dude' is gendered for you to care about what she's saying. the fact that you're asking people to do that sucks and makes you look bad, which is why people are arguing with you and calling you a misogynist.

especially those of you who are only doing this with trans women who are actively arguing with. you're wielding misgendering as a cudgel and we can all see it, grow up please.

[adams-angels]

I want to see my man in pain, Adam break down after reader said they want to break up (fluff in the end pls) 😞

I reaaaally enjoyed writing this

I love pain 🥹

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Used

Adam POV

It was a normal night. Out talking to some babes. Tellin' them how great I am. Because, well, I AM! HA! I'm the first fucking man! These bitches swarm me. Who am I to deny them. I check my phone a see y/n has text me. "Ugh, what do you want now you needy fuckin'" I can't believe what I'm reading.

"we're done."

My heart sinks. Why is it sinking. I don't care. I'm fucking ADAM!! Adam stands, pushing away the crowd of angels surrounding him and tries calling you. "Come on.. come on, pick up, you dumb bitch." No answer. NO FUCKING ANSWER. His head spins. Panic sets in as. This isn't happening. Not again.

You think you're better than me?! You're nothing! I'm Adam!! I can get ANYONE I FUCKING WANT YOU THINK I NEED YOU?!

I'VE GOT TONS OF BITCHES WAITING FOR ME!

I DONT NEED YOU I NEVER NEEDED YOU!

He tries calling you again. No answer. "FUCK!" He expands his wings and shoots up, smashing through the skylight. He continues to text and call as he makes his away to your apartment. "FUCKING ANSWER ME!" He screams into his phone. By the time he arrives at your apartment he calms himself down, "I can get them back." He thinks to himself as he lands on your balcony. "They didn't mean it. They couldn't of."

As he reaches for the handle of the sliding door his hand shakes. "No, no, no, no." He grips onto his wrist stepping back from the door, being stopped my the railing. He slides down to the floor. "No, no, no...." His voice cracks, fear, sadness, anger. He never let himself get close. At least that's what he told himself. After the second wife also betrayed him he swore he'd never care so he would never hurt. But somewhere along the way, he fell for you. Although he denied himself.

He rushed to remove his mask, feeling like he can't breathe. Once he got it off he threw it aside. Clutching at his chest as tears escaped from his eyes. "No, no, no.." he whimpered. He sat on the floor for an hour. Thinking about you. What he did wrong. If he did something terrible. Why you're ending it. There wasn't even anything to end and yet his world felt like it was crashing around him.

Once he calmed down he leaned forward and sighed. Wiping his cheeks as he stood up and put his mask back on. He reached for the handle, hesitating before opening the sliding door. He sees you in your bed, asleep. He closed the door quietly and just watched you. For about half an hour before he realised how much a creep he's being. He walked into your livingroom. He's been here plenty times before. He memorized the layout.

He walks over to one of your succulents. You loved them. Once he came over and accidentally knocked one on the floor. You were so upset. He didn't see the big deal but he still went out of his way to buy you a new pot for it and a new succulent altogether. Just something to say he was sorry without actually saying sorry. He smiled as he remembered your joy. He sat on the couch and waited.

A couple hours later he heard rustling in your room. He shot up from the couch and heading to your bedroom, freezing at the doorway as he sees you wake. You scream in surprise, falling off your bed. He noticed your phone falling off the nightstand with you. His chest tightens. Your phone. Those horrible texts. "Adam?! What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!" You yell at him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He stands there, feeling awkward. "You want to leave me?" He asked, trying hard to not break his voice. You tut, he watches at you stand, wanting to help but to afraid to move. "You say that like you cared." You snap, picking your phone up from the floor. "Don't look at that." He took a step towards you, reaching out but you recoiled. "Why? You next me nasty shit? Telling me I'm worthless? That I was lucky to -" he interrupted, "y/n, I'm sorry. I just want to know what I did wrong."

Adam braces himself. For you to yell. For you to scream. For you to tell him you love someone else. "I just... I can't... I don't want to be a place holder for you." His shoulders slump down he hesitantly steps closer to you "What are you talking about?" He carefully slides his hand under yours "I don't want to be someone you just use until you find someone better." His fingers interlace with your as his other hand brushes your hair from you face. His breath catches seeing your red, watery eyes "I just want to be... I don't know, Adam."

His hand cups your face. He looks into your eyes and for the first time in eons he chose to be vulnerable. "Be mine?" He watches you shrug. Rightfully assuming you've misunderstood his request he clarifies "no, I'm asking. Be mine." The way you look at him makes his chest tighten in fear. "What?" He recoiled. "I mean, maybe we could start again? Like.. properly?"

"You mean like.. date? What happened to "I don't date. I'm the first man. I have the first penis ever bla bla!"" He glares at you. Of course you'd remember that. "I don't sound like that." "You do." Adam brow furrows in in frustration. "Whatever, y/n, please. I can't lose you. I don't want to lose you. Please don't leave me." He felt pathetic. He was pathetic. "I'll have to think about it." His chest tightened. His heart beating a million miles a minute. You'd see how pale he would be if he wasn't wearing the mask. "H-how long will that take?" He asked, desperation leaking out of him.

"I don't know, Adam." You shrug. The air was thick. He was struggling to breath and needed to get out of there. "I really care about you, y/n. You have to believe me, babe." He kisses your hand before releasing it. "Just.. uh... Delete those texts. I didn't mean any of it." He heads to the sliding door he entered from, opening it and expanding his wings as he jumps off. He looks behind to see if you watched leave like you've done so maybe times before. But you're not there.

It's been a month. A whole month. It should feel like nothing to him considering how long he's been in existence yet it feels like a years. He sees you about. With your friends. Getting groceries. Whenever his eyes catch on to you he freezes. No matter what he's doing.

He can't keep this up. He didn't want to pressure you. Make you feel like you had to choose him. But fuck he needed you to choose him. He was in his office. But he couldn't focus. He was so tired, not being able to sleep well without you. Even if he didn't sleep the whole night it was always nice knowing you were there no matter what. At least that's what he used to think.

He checked his phone to see nothing from you. It was too much. He was alone. You were never coming back. No one ever comes back. Lilith left him. Eve left him. Now you. "Fuck. FUCK!" He picks up his coffee and punts it at the wall. He can't stay here. He needs to find you. He needs you back.

He swung the door open and there you were. He couldn't believe it. He thought you'd at least text him. Not show up at his office! His feathers were literally ruffled, his office looks like a bombs hit it. "Y/n?" He said softly, it was like time stopped for a minute. He wish it did. Then he could scoop you in his arms and never let you leave. He snapped back into reality changing his expression quickly, not want anyone to see a softer side to him. "Come in." He stands aside letting you in to his office. He hates that you didn't text. He would of cleaned up there were documents everywhere, a smashed mug on the floor and coffee stains on the wall. He hated it was such a mess for you. "Bad day?" You commented he grumbled in response. "There are no bad days in heaven." He mumbled as he slumps down on his office chair.

Resting his chin on the back of his hand as he watches you walk over to his office window, opening it. The musky smell almost dissipating immediately "So... I thought about it." He perks up, sitting straight, watching you like a hawk. "And?"

"and I'm willing to start again. Properly." He immediately bolts from his chair, wrapping his arms around you. "Fuck, thank fucking Christ. Don't do that to me again. Please." His voice breaks, wings surrounded the both of you. "Please, I'm sorry. I'll treat you so much better." "Promise?" "Yes, promise."

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

[likedovesinthewindd]

give or take; part ten of sore loser ⋆ masterlist

summary: patrick comes to visit | content/warning: explicit language, arguing and light angst | tags: @midwestprincesss | a/n: yes it is short again I'm sorry but also I need ideas on this damn ending yall give me ideas pls!!

Art squints his eyes, his racket rising in the air with precision before he serves. It's near perfect and and you watch attentively as him and his teammate play, your good hand absent-mindedly rubbing over the plaster of your cast.

Watching Art play was always a feast for the eyes, but recently, it had filled you with an uncertain envy. You deeply yearned to be in his position, the weeks until you were gully healed feeling like they were moving at a snailspace.

Your mind had been running wild recently; agitated because you couldn't play, frustrated because you couldn't write or do your work without help and scared at what your future from here looked like. Per your scholarship's terms, they didn't drop you completely, and your coach had promised she would wait until you were healed.

The words were supposed to put you at ease, but your doctor's voice rang in the back of your mind, her concern over how well your wrist would heal based on how bad you had broken it. Her telling you that you could suffer from possible long-term effects.

You were so deep in thought that you didn't immediately register Patrick plopping down next to, only coming to when he nudged your shoulder with his.

Your laugh was like a bell that went off in Art's head, and he looked over to find you wrapping your arms around his friend in greeting. The game was suddenly less important, and he asked his teammate for a break which he begrudgingly agreed to. He made his way over to the two of you, Patrick enveloping him in a tight hug and pulling away to slap his hands against his face playfully.

The three of you cut Art's practice short and made your way to the food court to catch up. Patrick didn't miss the way you decided to sit next to Art, the both of you sitting across from him. He didn't miss the way your thighs rubbed against Art's, his knee playfully nudging yours under the table every now and then and the shy smile he gave you every time you caught his gaze. The three of you were happily catching up before you realized you'd forgotten your gym bag, excusing yourself and leaving the two friends to their own devices.

Patrick looked over at his friend, deep in thought as he bit into his sandwich. "So," Patrick started making Art look up at him with raised eyebrows. "You two?" he asked. "What about us? Art asked through a mouthful. "C'mon," Patrick scoffed. "It's obvious things have gotten a little serious since I've been gone," he reasoned, taking a big gulp of his coke before continuing.

"Have you two been fucking?" he asked what he wanted to ask from the beginning. Art dropped his sandwich, his face scrunching into an appalled expression. "That's none of your business, man," he replied, watching Patrick's smile widen, cheeks balling at the action.

"I thought we told each other everything?" he asked, voice taking on a serious tone despite his smirk. "Why does it bother you so much?" Art asked, already passed irritated. "It doesn't," Patrick lied, "I just can't help but wonder where that leaves me."

Patrick took another bite of his sandwich, finishing it before adding, "I hope you realize this is just a game to her." Another bite at his sandwich. "A conquest. She's using you," he adds bitterly. "What could she possibly be using me for?" Art asked, angered by Patrick's claim, who in return shrugged, that stupid smirk still present on his face. "I dunno. Emotional support, pity, to somehow absorb your skills, sex? You figure it out, Art."

Art's frown deepened, ready to retort at his friend until you sat down in your spot next to him, sparing them both a smile and an out of breath apology. The topic was dropped there, the three of you continuing where you had left them.

It was, however, brought up again a few days later, this time between you and Patrick when the two of you had gone to watch one of Art's matches.

"What happened?" he asked, head nodding down to your hand laid down in your lap. "I broke it while playing," you said, fingers subconsciously flexing in the cast. "How long 'till you can play again?" You sighed, hand subconsciously rubbing over the cast as it always did when you were deep in thought. "Twelve weeks. Give or take." Patrick only hummed, taking a moment to take you in in your entirety.

You looked good – as you always did – but tired, eyes slightly puffy and laced with red, with a soft frown on your pretty face. He almost felt bad for what he was about to do.

He shuffled a little closer, making sure he was right by your ear when he asked, "Does this put your little game on hold now?"

You looked over at him, kissing your teeth when you saw the stupid smirk on his face. "Go fuck yourself," you said softly, grateful the few chairs next to you were open so that no one could hear your outburst. He laughed, hand rubbing over his cheeks and mouth. "You're always so hot and cold," he started. "I'm still not sure if you even like me."

"But you know what I do know?" he asked.

"What," you said, a command for him to continue rather than a question. "I know that you're a bitch," he started, "and that you get off on using people." You scoffed but the smile on your face betrayed you, eyebrows raising at his words. "That's not true," you said, refocusing your attention on Art, but it didn't deter Patrick. Not much could when he had his mind set on something.

"Then what are you doing?" he asked, saying your name like it was bitter in his mouth. You pursed your mouth, dead set on ignoring as you watched Art. "What are you getting out of him now?" he asked again obviously not ready to let the subject go.

"Let me ask you this, Patrick," you looked over at him again. "Are you mad that you 'lost' me or that you feel like you might lose Art?" He groaned, head tipping over the backrest of the chair as he rubbed his face in frustration, and you smiled. "I won't steal your boyfriend, Patrick," you said with a shrug, "I know you need him just as much as you think I do."

"You never answered my question from that night," he said way off topic, "you never chose." You looked at him, green-blue eyes focused on you with an angry expression, so close to you it probably looked odd to anyone watching you. You didn't answer him, turning back to the court as you folded your arms. Patrick followed suit, dropping the subject as his leg bounced in irritation.

✿ ⊹ ˚. part eleven

[xo-cod]

omg more soft Simon pls😭💗 maybe sth with a highly sensitive reader sfw or nsfw whatever works for u... luv ur blog💖

thank you sm lovie :") this is sfw! sorry i got to this so late 😩🤍

dangerous love

"don't make me say it. i can't say the words"

rolling your eyes, you sit on the lap of your beloved lieutenant. the usual firm and stoic ghost has been left at the door, here he's become so affectionate and clingy, the way you adored it. here, he's simon. his calloused hands are wandering, trying to memorise every part on your skin. even though every nook and cranny is burned into his memory, mapped out exactly where and how to caress your body to get you into a whimpering mess.

"i think that's a lie, i think you can say those words simon riley" accentuating his name elicits a small groan from his lips, how he adores it when you take charge and command him. it brings a side of him he doesn't usually feel safe to show others. but you're so different. so warm and comforting, it just naturally comes out, spilling everywhere before he can even comprehend

you're so close to him, your fingers running though his blonde soft hair scratching gently on his scalp. and he relishes in it, his eyes closing out of habit. he can't help but rock underneath you, hoping you'd forget and immerse yourself in pleasure only he can provide you

but tonight, you were on a mission. and certainly not one to settle for any less so you move back but he grumbles a little, his hold on your waist tightening so that you're back close to him. he can't help but breathe in your sweet smell, practically trembling underneath you. like you're simultaneously not enough but yet overriding his senses.

"iloveyou" he mumbles in your neck, breath tickling your chest. it makes you giggle softly, gently pushing him back. your hands lace with his bigger ones, shaking your head as you gaze down at your half sleepy man

"try again, sir" you whisper, your arms around his neck. his eyes darken with lust at the word, instantly thinking about how many ways he could have you. but you don't relent. he knows what you want and maybe it's the fact that he's so tired that all his walls are down or the fact that he's so in love with you, he can't help but give you what you want

simon leans his forehead against your own, the sweetest of smiles pulling on his lips. his hands come to hold yours, his thumb rubbing comforting circles around your knuckles. he breathes you in a little, not used to being so open and vulnerable about his feelings like this. not used to having someone care for him so deeply, not thinking that he could've ever received such a thing in this painful life.

"i love you, with everything in me. i never thought i could feel this way, that it was even bloody possible..." he breaks off, gently chuckling at the predicament he was in. how for years he swore of love, swore off from ever pursuing a relationship in this life. he didn't grow up with adoring parents that showed him what love meant, he couldn't possibly drag someone else deep down in the depths of his pain and misery of his past. the same thing he was running from.

how nobody could hold a candle to him but you managed to light a whole fire deep in his soul. the embers burning more bright and intense than he could've ever imagined. you truly tilted his world on its axis but he didn't care. for once in his life, he was reckless. and he loved it, for it landed him you.

"but there you were, you little minx. and i've fallen for you y/n l/n, more than you think. more than i even bloody know" his voice is soft as he nears the end of his confession, kissing the tip of your nose. there's really nothing more he could think of, he was a man of few words so action was always his number one thing. no words could do it justice. but he'd show you, again and again. so that even if you had a sliver of doubt all of was expelled, he'd make sure of that

"i love you too si..." you whisper, tenderly holding his stubbled face between your palms. your thumbs rub soft circles on the apples of his cheeks, giving into him. you couldn't help it, he was so addicting. your arms go behind his neck, pulling him towards you desperately. and he did the same, his arms tightening around your waist as if you'd disappear right before him. like he couldn't handle the fact that there could possibly be any sort of distance between you both, he pulls you with his strong arms close to his front.

as you got lost in the feeling of him, a surety had rose, lodged deep in his throat. his hands hold you as if you'll slip through his fingers, deepening the kiss as though your lips were the sweetest of drugs. that it'll be you always, for as long as you will let him. for as long as you'll have him

[satorusluver]

35 + Suguru for the smut prompt thing if there's still room? Pls and thank u 🙏

Suguru Geto + cockwarming

Minors DNI

Tags/warnings: fem reader, religion kink, unprotected sex, established relationship, cockwarming (obviously)

Word count: 1,050 ish (lil longer than a drabble but 🤷‍♀️)

A/N: Anon requested cockwarming but I threw in Priest!Geto as a bonus lol. I've heard certain types of Christians don't consider cockwarming actual sex (Mormons, I think?), bc they believe you have actually move for it to count. Dunno if it's actually true, and yes I know priests are Catholic and not Mormon, but it's smut, guys.

Priest Suguru Geto who's so desperate for your sweet little cunt, but he's also desperate to maintain some semblance of his purity. He loves you, even if he shouldn't. And he lusts for you, which he definitely shouldn't. But twenty-seven years without being intimate with anyone could drive any red-blooded man mad, even a man of God. He can't help but want to experience being inside of a woman -no, not just a woman, being inside of you.

It's his duty as a priest to save his virginity and keep his promise of purity to God, but it doesn't count if he doesn't move, right? Or at least that's how his wayward friend Satoru tried to justify it, saying that it doesn't really count as sex if there's no actual thrusting. If you just get to feel a woman's warmth around your cock without actually doing anything about it. Suguru didn't really buy that, at least not until he met you, fell in love, and became so hopelessly, helplessly, sinfully desperate to be intimate with you.

So it doesn't count if you just sit on his lap and slowly lower yourself onto his cock, his breath hitching in his throat at the feeling of your wet warmth enveloping him...

Or at least that's what he tells himself.

God, you're even tighter than he imagined you'd be. His eyes roll back in his head and a shiver runs through his entire body when he feels himself bottom out. His hands grip the arms of the chair he's sitting in so hard his knuckles turn white at the feeling of his swollen, needy tip pressing gently against the entrance to your womb and your gummy walls clinging to his hard length like you never want to let him go.

"Fuuuck," Suguru groans under his breath as he adjusts to this new, intoxicating feeling. "...sorry, that was unbecoming of a priest," he adds with an embarrassed chuckle.

"And this isn't?" you ask, raising an eyebrow as your inner muscles squeeze around him, and if he thought you were tight before, now you're gripping him like a vice.

"Fuck!" he swears again, his eyes screwing shut and his hands clenching and unclenching as he tries to bring himself back down from the high that's threatening to overtake him already. "D-don't do that, angel, or I m-might..."

Angel. He always calls you his angel. He swears you must be a gift from God, with your ethereal features and kind heart. So how can an angel be so tempting? How can an angel make him want to do the most unholy things, things only married couples should do?

"You're right though, we probably shouldn't be doing this. B-but I don't think I could pull out now if I tried. Does it feel good for you, angel?" Suguru asks sweetly, reaching up to brush your hair out your face with a shaky hand.

"So good, Sugu..." you whisper, meeting his dark eyes with your own. He really does fill you up just right, and you can feel the head of him rubbing up against that sweet spot deep inside of you. You want so badly to move, to grind against him and bring you both the pleasure that you crave. But you know your priest's limits, so your hips stay still. You do, however, lean your head down to kiss him, and you're taken aback when one of his long fingers meets your lips instead.

"If we start making out now, I'm gonna lose all self-control. Can we just stay like this?" Suguru asks in a low, pleading voice. "I just wanna be close to you like this..." he murmurs, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a soft groan.

So you sit there for what feels like an eternity, trying not to think too hard about the way his fat cock is plugging you up and stretching you out, trying not to think too hard about how much you want to move your hips and feel every ridge and vein of his member dragging along your walls, which ache with the need for more stimulation that this is giving you.

You're getting wetter by the minute too, coating his cock in your sticky arousal so much it's dripping down the part of it that can't fit inside you due to his generous length. Every now and then you shift on top of him, adjusting your position a bit and savoring the slight friction it causes. Suguru clearly loves it too, hissing out a strained moan through clenched teeth and squeezing your sides a tad harder at your every minor movement.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he chokes out when you tighten around him again, almost involuntarily as your body craves more of him.

"Sorry, can't help it...we can stop if you want?" you ask softly, your eyes taking in his almost pained expression as he tries to hold himself back. Your hands come up to run your fingers through his long, dark hair in a comforting way.

"N-no, I'm fine..." But he doesn't look fine. He looks like he's holding himself back with every fiber of his being, and he is. He's so close to saying fuck it all and thrusting up into you anyway. After all, this has gotta be at least a half-sin, just being inside you. But he's convinced himself that his self-restraint counts for something, so he keeps still no matter how much his cock throbs and his body screams at him to move inside of you.

"You're just so warm. I mean, I figured you would be, but...just this feeling, you around me. You feel so amazing, angel, and I'm not even moving. If this is what it's like to be with a woman....no wonder men give into temptation."

If Suguru is being honest with himself, eventually he probably will too. Maybe not this time. But he's not sure either of you could take this sweet torture forever. Sinners deserve nothing but an eternity in hell, it's true. And yet...your beautiful eyes gazing down at him, filled with love and lust for him? Every flutter of your tight pussy around his hard, throbbing cock? Every breathy whimper and sigh that slips from your pretty mouth at the slightest shift of your hips? It all has Suguru beginning to think you might just be worth eternal damnation after all.

[laylasredemption]

I know Micah Bell is the bad guy, but hear me out, I have a few headcannons for dating him

warnings: might be toxic y'all gotta excuse me cus i've just got out of a toxic relationship myself that's how i deal with it; also smut (i really gotta write a whole smut based on these headcannons) pls guys stay away from toxic men irl read at your own risk, might be a lil messed up

The first time Micah lay his eyes on you, he knew he had to have you, and he knew how to get what he wanted. You were much younger than him, probably somewhere in your early to mid 20s, and he knew how to talk you into thinking he could be the big, scary guard dog, protect you from the evil of this cruel world.

Maybe you even had the tendency to fall for the bad men, and he quickly found that out. Let's be real, he could read you like an open book, so it didn't take long for him to realize how naive and impressionable you are. It was so easy to manipulate your emotions however he wanted to, and you thought he's the only one who truly understands you.

Other gang members would notice that, of course, and they would try to make you realize how wrong this is. But Micah would make sure you don't chat with them too long. He'd barge into the conversation, say something to the other person about not bothering his girl, and drag you away.

He wouldn't physically punish you, or that's what I want to believe, but his words would cut deep into your heart. Almost as if his words were bullets and you were his favourite target (nessa barrett referance), he'd especially try to shatter your self esteem, calling you stupid for believing even for a moment what others say.

The emotional rollercoaster, god, Micah could be so sweet to you one moment if there was something he wanted to gain from you, if he wanted you to believe in his good side. You'd often ditch your morals for him, and he'd reward you with affection, maybe a kiss if you're being really good.

Then his mood could change in a moment. Like walking on eggshells, you make one wrong move, and in the best case he's giving you the silent treatment. In other, less pleasant, cases he would again call you stupid, dumb, anything to tear your self esteem down.

GASLIGHTING!! I totally see him saying stuff like "You must be crazy if you think I [insert something he definitely did]."

He'd never make the relationship official, but at the same time he'd say he'd kill any man who tried to take you from him.

Lying, lying, lying. He'd lie to you so much you wouldn't know what to believe anymore. This and false promises to get on your good side again.

Now the NSFW part

POWER PLAY he'd love to be in charge in bedroom as much as outside of it, having you submit to him is what gets him off, he'd love pushing your boundaries, testing how far he can go with you. He has some dark fantasies and he'd try to get you to try them out.

He's never gentle. We all know he's a lil sick in the head, so he'd always be rough in bed. The louder you scream the better.

His fav position would be doggy, partially because he could push your head into the bed, the ground, or whatever there was underneath you, and partially because he could just grab your hips, digging his nails into your skin, and slam all the way in and out of you, the head of his cock bruising your cervix.

You'd always be sooo sore on the next day, not just inside from all the pounding, but also outside from the bites and scratches he had left on your body. And your ass would be definitely bruised because y'all can't tell me this man ain't into spanking the hell out of you.

During sex he'd love to tell you that you belong to him. He'd keep making you say it, asking you who you belong to. Especially if he'd seen you talking to any male gang members that day. Oh, and of course, he'd say something like "Bet he could never fuck you like this."

As much as he doesn't want to commit to you, he'd love to see the marks he left on your body, indicating you belong to him.

He would make you cum, just because he wants you to think no one else can bring such pleasure to you. But there would be absolutely no aftercare. He's cold and distant. He got what he wanted, that's all that matters for him.

I feel like he would definitely use sex as something to distract you if he makes a mistake. And if you make a mistake? He either fucks your brains out or he turns you on just to not let you even get undressed nor touch yourself.

Honestly, he wouldn't mind people overhearing. Hell, he'd be even into getting caught. At least that would show others that you belong to him and no one else can touch you.

I feel like he'd be into gunplay, using his guns on you during sex, holding a gun to your head while he's fucking into you or when you're sucking him off. You'd have no idea about it, but he wouldn't take the bullets out beforehand. He didn't plan to pull the trigger, but if the gun was to fire on its own, the danger only added to his arousal. He's a sick man, what can I say?

[yxngbxkkie]

seven years of pining (b.c)

so, i've been playing hogwarts legacy a lot, and i wanted to incorporate skz with hogwarts! i hope i did it justice! 💓 pls enjoy!

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

Sirona sets a mug of butterbeer in front of you, and you smile at her before mumbling a thank you. You take a sip of it as the woman goes back to cleaning the bartop.

"I take it you're meeting someone?" She asks with a smile, her eyes staying on the cloth she's using.

A laugh escapes your lips, and you set the mug back down. "Is it obvious?" You ask her, tucking some hair behind your ear.

"Not extremely. You just look nervous," she points out, halting her movements to spare a glance. "It's your last year, yeah? You shouldn't be so nervous unless you're meeting someone."

"You can see right through me," you tell her with a laugh, glancing down at the amber liquid. "I'm not meeting anyone special. I've known him for seven years."

Sirona smirks at you before humming. You begin to correct her when two hands rest on your shoulders. A gasp leaves your lips, feeling startled by the sudden contact. You quickly look behind you to see Chan dressed in his robes, a goofy smile on his lips.

"You haven't been waiting too long, have you?" He asks while sitting down, moving his attention to Sirona. "It's good to see you again! Can I get a butterbeer?"

She nods her head, and she waves her wand. "It's good to see you too, Chan. I hope the summer was well for you both," she explains as the mug lowers itself in front of the brunette.

"Summer was good. Although I missed this one," Chan nudges your arm, a playful grin on his lips.

You can't help but blush a little, tearing your gaze away from the man. "I missed you too," you whisper loud enough for him to hear.

Sirona watches the two of you, a large grin on her lips. "That's good to hear. I'll let the two of you catch up!" She says before leaving the bar.

Chan grabs his mug and takes a couple of gulps. Silence fills the space between you as you try to get your heart to stop pounding. Chan's eyes glance back to you, wondering why you've been so quiet.

"Hey," he whispers, softly gaining your attention. Your eyes shift to look at him, and you release a hum. "Are you okay? You're normally not this quiet."

"Yeah, I'm okay, Channie," you reassure him, laying a hand on his forearm. "A part of me is a little sad that it's our last year."

"Ah, yeah," Chan mumbles sadly, casting his gaze to the drink he's got. "But, hey, your family doesn't live far from mine. We can easily keep in contact and visit one another."

Your heart flutters, glad to know that he'd want to keep in touch. You nod your head as a grin comes to your lips. You stare into his dark eyes for a few moments before bringing the fellow Ravenclaw into a hug.

"I'm so glad to have met you, you know," you whisper into his ear as Chan wraps his arms around you.

He hums in agreement, tightening his grip. "I remember it like it was yesterday," Chan mentions with a laugh.

You quickly find a seat inside the Hogwarts Express, watching some people reunite with others. You lace your fingers together before anxiously squeezing your hands. You hope you'll find a good group of friends.

You look out the window as you begin to feel your nerves intensify. You release a deep breath when someone sits down across from you. Your breath hitches in your throat upon seeing the attractive boy.

"Hi," he greets you with a cheesy grin, his dimples indenting his cheeks. "I'm Bang Chan! Or you can call me Chris."

"H-Hi," you say shyly, waving your hand. "I'm Y/N L/N."

He smiles at you and nods his head, repeating your name quietly. Chan can notice your shyness, and his eyes widen. "Oh, I should've asked if it was okay to sit here," Chan mumbles, moving to stand up.

"It's okay!" You quickly stop him, grabbing his wrist. "I don't mind you sitting here."

"Okay," he says, slowly sitting back in his seat.

"You were so cute back then," Chan disrupts your thoughts, snapping you out of it.

A scoff leaves your lips as you sit back in your seat, a playful smirk settling. "I was?? Does that mean I'm not now?" You tease him, sipping your butterbeer.

Chan blushes at your question and gulps his drink some more. "N-No, you're still so cute," he stumbles over his words, scooting his stool closer to you.

You giggle and lean over to pinch his flushed cheek. "You're so cute when you blush, Channie," you tell him.

"Stop," he groans, pushing your hand away.

"Oh, look who it is!" A familiar voice echoes off of the walls, causing you and Chan to look in the direction of the sound. You internally groan as you make eye contact with Kim Seungmin. "Ravenclaw's love birds!"

You shake your head, deciding to ignore the Slytherin student. "Seungmin, not now," Chan mumbles, turning away from the teen.

Seungmin drapes his arm over your shoulder while doing the same with Chan. "Oh, come on. You two are so perfect for one another. You might as well just go out already," he mentions, his eyes shifting from you to him.

"Don't you have anything else you could be doing?" You ask him, sending a glare in his direction.

He laughs and brings his hand to your hair, ruffling it. You swat his hands before getting out of your chair. Seungmin raises a brow as you walk away from the pair, not without telling Chan that she'd see him later.

"What's up with her?" Seungmin asks Chan, nudging the older teen's arm.

Chan sighs and turns to face him. "Do you ever think that maybe she doesn't like you picking on her?" He asks him, his face completely serious.

Seungmin's shoulders deflate, not wanting his jokes to come off as rude or anything. "I-I didn't know. You two usually banter with me," he mentions.

"I know you mean well. I've seen that over the years we've studied together," Chan pauses, pushing himself off of the chair. "But, she's never really enjoyed jokes like that."

Chan leaves Seungmin standing near the bar in The Three Broomsticks, hoping to be able to catch up with you.

-

You bump into someone during your trek to the Great Hall. You lift your head, ready to apologize when you see that it's Seungmin. A sigh comes from your lips, trying to push past him.

"Wait, Y/N," Seungmin stops you, gently grabbing your wrist. "I wanted to apologize for earlier."

Your eyes widen at him, not expecting him to apologize to you. "What?" You whisper, furrowing your brows in confusion.

"Chan talked to me after you left, and he made me realize that my jokes… aren't all funny," he explains to you, releasing your wrist. "So, I wanted to apologize."

"Thank you," you tell him, smiling softly. "I appreciate the apology, Seungmin."

He nods his head before motioning towards the large doors. "After you," he smiles at you, allowing you to walk into the Great Hall first.

You two part ways as you make your way towards the Ravenclaw table. You find Chan instantly, seeing an empty seat beside him. You rush towards the brunette, and you squeeze his shoulders as soon as you reach him.

"Hey, you," Chan greets with a smile.

"Hey," you grin ear to ear, sitting down beside him. You lean your head on his shoulder, hooking an arm with his. "You'll never guess what happened before I got here."

Chan hums, and he turns his head to look at you. "What happened?" He asks with a soft smile.

"Seungmin apologized to me," you informed him with a light chuckle. You glance up to see his eyes widening. "I know! I thought the same thing."

He hums and glances towards the Slytherin table, seeing Seungmin chatting with Hyunjin and Minho. "Well, I'm glad he apologized to you. I know you're not fond of his "jokes,"" Chan mentions, combing his fingers through your hair.

"He mentioned that you said something. Thank you," you tell him. "I appreciate you so much."

Chan brings his hand to your face, lifting your chin. Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes meet his. You swallow thickly upon seeing his gaze shift to your lips for a quick second.

"I-I don't think we should be doing this here," you whisper, your cheeks beginning to blush.

He blinks rapidly, snapping out of his daze. He releases your chin before clearing his throat. Chan looks away from you, wanting to hide the blush that's covering his cheeks.

"Sorry… I don't know what came over me," he says, avoiding eye contact.

Your heart pounds against your chest as you look at the students around you. You provide an apologetic smile at some who're glaring at you. You rest your hands on your lap as Headmaster Black takes the podium.

Chan slowly places his hand in your lap, his fingers fumbling with your clasped ones. You glance down at your hands, watching his index fingers trace yours. You lift your head to see your best friend's eyes on the man speaking.

You smile to yourself, unclasping your fingers before holding his hand. You slide closer to him and feel his thigh brushing yours. Chan strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, squeezing it gently.

He glances back at you and provides a fond smile. He leans forward to whisper into your ear, "Meet in our spot later?" You nod your head with no hesitation, and Chan presses a light kiss on your cheek.

Hours later, you find yourself sneaking into the astronomy tower. As soon as you make it to the top, a gasp leaves your lips. The stars are bright tonight, and you've missed stargazing here.

A sound comes from behind you, making you jump in your spot. Chan raises his hands in defense while walking closer to you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he laughs, grinning.

You place a hand on your chest and release a deep breath. "You can't do that to me," you chuckle, meeting the teen halfway.

"I'm sorry, sweetness," the pet name slips from his lips, causing his cheeks to blush a bit.

You giggle and shake your head, muttering that it's okay. The two of you walk towards the railing together before you lean against it.

"I can't believe it's our last year," you mention after five minutes of silence. "I feel like our time here moved so fast."

Chan laughs, and he nods his head. "I can agree to that. I can't believe it's our last year either," he mentions, looking up at the sky.

You look up at him, and you admire his side profile. He senses your eyes on him instantly, turning to look at you. "I…" you trail off, wanting to tell him how you feel. How you've felt since your first year.

"I know," he whispers, shifting his body to face you. "I do too."

You breathe a breath of relief, leaning forward to rest your head on his chest. Chan laughs and rubs his hand up and down your spine. His hand moves to the nape of your neck, and you lift your head to look at him again.

Chan dips down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. Your eyes flutter shut after you kiss him back, leaning on your toes. The kiss deepens when you feel his tongue gliding along your lip.

You break away from him, panting slightly at the kiss. His forehead rests against yours as the two of you stand in silence. "I love you, Y/N," Chan whispers, nudging his nose with yours.

Your heart flutters in your chest, grinning widely. "I love you, Chan."

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

[gothghostiie]

I see you take Yellowjackets requests. Can you do nsfw stuff with Jeff? Literally can be anything. I'm scrapping the bottom of the barrel with content, and I need to scratch an itch.

YES OH MY GOD. I'VE BEEN DYING TO DO SOMETHING PLS

this is what i could come up with from the top of my head, pls bear with me

cw: oral (reader giving), gn!reader

you finally convinced him to let you give him head. you hadn't been dating for long, to him this was far too early - he's a good man he claims. all those morals flew out of the window when you practically begged him to be allowed to suck him off. his cheeks heated up and he stumbled over his words, christ; you'd think a grown man handles this better. but he finally agreed, telling you if you're sure you want it, he'll let you.

so now you're sat between his legs while he's on the couch, drumming his fingers on his thighs nervously. "you don't have to do this, y'know."

"I know. I want to." a shiver runs down his spine when you say that. it's not the first time he's getting a blowjob, not by all means. but with you it somehow feels.. different. he can't place his finger on it but it just.. is. he just nods lightly, taking a deep breath before leaning back and starting to unbuckle his pants, just for you to swat his hands away and do it yourself. his breath is already hitching, cock twitching beneath the thin fabric of his boxer's. the sight makes you grin, makes you want more - so you pull his pants and underwear down slightly, just enough to expose his sex. your eyes widen slightly at the size, you wonder how it'd feel to have him fuck you - but you push these thoughts aside for now. instead you wrap your hand around it, almost agonisingly slowly jacking him off as he already throws his head back.

he wants to ask you to stop because he can already tell he won't last long but he bites his tongue and let's you keep moving, trying to not just immediately explode all over your hands. you look up at him, biting your lip at the sight before you; god he's pretty. you almost want to take him all the way on the spot but you promised yourself to not push further, especially now that he's ready to let you do this. so you lick your lips for a moment before leaning in, trailing your tongue along the vein that runs along the underside of his shaft. he gasps for air, hips twitching upwards lightly, hand almost reaching out to your head but holding back. you're almost sad he pulls his hand back but dont mention it, instead you roll your tongue over his tip, eliciting a gasp from him.

you look at him, trying to make eyecontact, but he knows if he looks into your pretty eyes while you do this he won't be able to hold back at all. so, he settles his head back onto the rest of the couch and stares at the ceiling. the thought of not seeing what you'll do excites him but also makes him nervous - then again what doesn't?

you lean in again, wrapping your soft lips around his hip while one of your hands finds home on his thigh, the other wrapped around the base of his cock. you suck softly, swirling your tongue all over him, he can't help but push upwards as a low groan escapes his lips. you almost giggle, taking it as an invitation that you're glad to take; slowly moving your head down to take more of him. you stop about halfway down, his hips are twitching and he almost wants to scold you for stopping; but all frustrating is forgotten when you start bopping your head up and down, the hand on the base moving along slightly. he grunts, one hand pressed onto his mouth while the other struggles to keep away from your head. you feel the struggle, you almost want to stop and beg him to lead you a little bit, but you decide to not stop what you're doing, hoping he might do it on his own.

you speed up a little, using your tongue as well as you can while your lips wrap around him tighter, he's having a hard time not just cumming on the spot. you slow down as you taste the precum that's seeping out of his tip, stopping to lick it up, savouring the taste and the high pitched moan he gives when you do. in a moment of desperation he looks down at you, your eyes meet his; his cock twitches. "honey.." he whispers, voice shaking. "I can't hold back much longer, I'm so sorry.." you feel like he just hit you with a chair.

"Jeff.." you whisper back, "you don't have to hold back.. I don't want you to hold back.. I want to taste you.." every bit of reservation he had flies out of the window. in a sudden motion he grabs your head with a small bit of force, pushing you towards his cock, soft pleas falling from his lips. you take the hint, giving him teasing kitten lick until he thinks he might go insane - suddenly pushing his tip into your mouth. your eyes widen slightly at the act, unsure if it's dominance or desperation but either way, you'll take it.

your lips wrap around his tip once more, causing him to make an almost animalistic sound, it only gets worse when you starts sucking and running your tongue over it again. he takes a few seconds, his breathing laboured before he quietly chokes out; "watch it.." it sounds more like a threat than a warning when he says it. you look up at him through your eyelashes, a grunt falling from his lips as he makes eye contact, finally cumming all over your tongue.

[ravensmadreads]

The Mess of Us

A/N: i have no excuse honestly. I've imprinted on David York for reasons unfathomable to my own brain. This is my attempt at giving him a redemption arc? A softer backstory? My heart and soul? Who knows.

Warnings: uhhhh lots of angst (i mean i tried), almost entirely canon compliant, vague-ish attempt at smut, mild cursing, insane use of italics. (Also: english is not my first language and im faking being a writer but i think this came out okay??? Pls be kind he's my lil babie!!)

Summary: I gave david york my heart and then proceeded to bash it with a sledgehammer - forgive me :p this is the same universe as What Love Means

Taglist: @fuckyeahdindjarin cause i wouldn't be writing without you; @chronically-ghosted thank u to listening to me cry about Dave, and my writing, and myself - i owe u my life; @wannab-urs you absolute maniac i adore u; @timelordfreya u were so kind on the accompanying piece for this i hope you like this too <3

David York

You've known that name for a long time. Stayed with the man that inhabits it even longer. He goes by Dave now. Lives in a suburban home. Has two daughters. An "office job". A respectable man. A good man. A little misguided perhaps. A little bit more jaded than he used to be. More broken than you remember. The light in his eyes all but snuffed out. But a good man.

He was always a good man.

Even when he was no longer yours.

Even when he was no longer David.

****

David York and his sunshine. Neighbours. Best friends. Light of each others lives.

You're two halves of one whole in a way that makes no sense from the outside, but when you tread close enough you can pinpoint the exact strands that join your soul to his. The way his heart is an exact mirror to yours. The way your smile reflects the sun in his eyes and his warmth leaves you feeling more loved than any being in the entire universe. You'd stumbled across him, buried between the pages of a book twice the size of his head, and you thought: Oh God. It's you. It's going to be you. And you decided you'd never let him go.

Until he decided to leave.

He's so excited when he gets the call. When he makes his plans and packs his bags. When he tells you all about the good he's going to do, the hero he's going to become.

"I'll be back soon sunshine. You won't even know I'm gone."

You try to convince him to stay. With everything you've got in you. All your jokes, all your warmth, all your schemes. When that fails you give him your heart. Your tears. Explain that you can't live without him. That he can't expect you to live without him and not fall apart at the seams because he's the thread that holds you together. And when you see the anguish on his face at your confession, you revel a little because you think you've won. He's going to stay for you because of course he is. He's your David. He cups your cheeks in his hands. Lips meet your forehead as his words break your heart:

"I'm sorry sunshine. You know I have to go. I have to do this. You know."

So you wipe off your tears and you smile. Because that's what you're supposed to do for a friend and that's what you do for him. Give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Tell him to be safe.

"Don't get your butt kicked too much David. I need you back in one piece."

And that's the first time David York turns his back on your smile.

****

You wait for him. Like the inexplicable fool you are. Wander aimlessly in the streets around your childhood home like a spirit too tired to haunt anyone but itself. Waiting for him to come back and spark you alive again. Awakening for the few weeks of leave he has before reverting to your state of nothingness the minute the door closes behind him. Flitting like a ghost of yourself, nothing tethering you to this place, but still incapable of moving on without him.

Because he was David York. Your best friend.

Your good man. Your solid rock.

Until he wasn't.

Until he left.

****

You learn to make your way without him. Stumble, fall and scrape your knees more than once, without him by your side clucking and fussing like the mother hen he was. Without him to hold you up and bring you close:

"You’ve got to be careful honey. I can't be losing my sunshine."

You find a purpose and make your stand into the big bad world but all of it feels hollow without him by your side. You learn to stitch people up, bandage their wounds, hold bleeding skin in place and snap broken bones back together again. He laughs when he finds out, equal parts amused and proud.

"Looks like you became the anti-Dave sunshine."

And you smile for him, because of course you do. You don't tell him that everything you're learning, you're learning because of him. Because of the sheer wall of terror that's settled in your spine since the moment he walked away. Because of the David that comes to you in your dreams. The one that crumbles in front of you; broken and damaged and begging for help. The one you're trying so hard to save.

You may be his sunshine, but he was always your sun, and you'll protect him, even if he doesn't want you to.

****

The David that comes to you now is not yours. He's an off brand version of himself. A cheap copy. An imposter that calls himself Dave and smirks in a way that makes your skin crawl. He wears Davids skin but has none of his warmth. The sunshine in his smile is replaced by an ice cold sharpness and you hate that shivers it sends down your spine. His eyes have lost most of the humour they used to have, and when he hugs you he lets go a little too soon. A little too fractured, a little too cold. You hold on; assessing, caring, and wondering. Go to ask but he shakes his head; the look in his eyes silencing your questions before the words can form on your lips. The worry in your heart worsens.

When he walks you home you try again but he anticipates it. Like the predator he is now, he sees your strike coming, and retaliates in the one way he knows will force your silence. He kisses you. Hot and deep. Steals the air from your lungs and the words from your brain. Renders you shocked. When you open your eyes it's your David staring back again and your relieved smile has him pushing into you again. He kisses you until you're breathless. Again, and again, and again, until all your worries are dripping unvoiced at your feet and all your questions have been sucked into the air in his lungs.

You don't fall into each other as much as you attack. The culmination of years of circling each other and it all comes down to this. Mouths open, teeth clashing like you're trying to make your way into each others souls. His hands grab you so desperately, so fervently, that you wonder how he hasn't moulded you into his own chest yet. Your nails scratching at him like you're trying to carve a home in his bones. You’re trying to tear pieces of each other apart. Him, so he may take you with him and you, so you never have to watch him leave again. You devour every inch of him so reverently that the taste of him may remain embedded in your tongue forever. And he carves his way into you, soothing an emptiness that only ever craved him. Pounding in like he's trying to break you open and consume the light within. You cling to each other in the aftermath, breathless, sated and smiling, and you remember placing a kiss on his heart right before you drift off in his embrace.

You should've known, in retrospect, that that was as good as it was ever going to get.

He leaves you in an empty bed. Runs away before the dawn breaks like the consequences of what you both did are too ugly to be faced in the light of day. You turn the apartment upside down looking for one note, one glimpse, one hint of him that's not mottled on your skin and going to be torn away by the cruel hands of time.

You take the dismissal for what it is when you don't find one.

****

He comes back broken. Purple shadows under his eyes, a split lip and a wince that breaks you when you go to hug him. The storm breaks and you lunge. Too strung out to keep going like this any longer and too frazzled by thoughts of "what if it was worse" to think about the consequences of breaking your silence.

Your fists pound against the rock hard of his chest. The place that used to be your solace, your comfort, your home. Where you'd set your head too many times to count and where all your dreams ever went to rest. And they've turned it to stone, moulded him into a machine, changed him into something he's not.

"You're not a fucking hero David. You're not. And I'm asking you to stop trying to be one. I'm asking you to stop this self sacrificial bullshit and come back. Come home. You don't need to be a hero. You just need to be alive. I need you alive dammit! Why can't you see how much I need you?"

Your voice falters and cracks. It's out there now, the pieces of your heart; ugly, tattered and split open in front of him. Waiting for his judgement, for his grace. His face twists into a grimace, and you turn your head before he can see the tears fall. You don't need his apologies. His empty words and false promises of how nothing will ever happen to him, because it will, you know it will. So you hold up a hand before he can begin.

"It's okay. I get it. This is your life now, right? So will you forgive me then, if I can't stand around watching you try to kill yourself and wait for the day you inevitably succeed?"

Something in his eyes breaks at your words, and something in your heart does when he gathers you in his arms. The kiss on your temple feels like a goodbye. To your one solace, your one crutch and the only friend you ever had. And you know this goodbye will haunt you forever.

That's the one time you turn your back on David York.

****

He comes back with an extra sparkle in his eyes. Pleads and begs his way into your good graces and you indulge him because that's what you do for David. His smile has never been brighter. He may call you sunshine but he has always been your shining light, your beacon, the lighthouse you turn to.

But then he turns away. And in a split second, your world tilts on it's axis.

Carol.

Her name is Carol. Perfectly normal. Perfectly sweet. Perfectly perfect. He's got his hand in her hand and you don't understand. You can't. You refuse. Except.... David. He looks so happy. So content. Looks at her with all the devotion you've only ever given him, and all the love you wish he could've given you.

"What do think sunshine? I think she may be the one."

You smile. Because that's what you always do for David. You smile. It's an ugly thing. Fractured. Broken. He notices because of course he does. You've never been able to hide from him, ingrained as he is into your very soul. His smile falters and his eyes fill with sorrow and regret. Apologies for all he could never be and all the regret he has about it.

"You did good York. You'll be great together."

He flinches. He has only ever been David to you. He knows he has broken something irreparable. Opens his mouth to fix it. To swallow something back, say something else instead. Change the words, the letters, the combinations of decisions that led you both to this very moment. Something to keep you whole but the parts he shattered, however unwittingly, are already crumbling to dust in front of him. He closes his mouth. Swallows whatever lingered at the back of his throat. You smile at each other as you walk away. Him with her hand in his. You with the cloud of pain that comes from finally accepting the bitter truth for what it is.

He's not yours. Not anymore. Never will be again.

You never call him David again.

***

You miss him. Of course you do. Running from him was like running from a part of yourself; impossible, regretful and pointless. You were intwined into each other too thoroughly for there to ever be a clean cut through. You couldn't really walk away from him completely no matter what the distance on a map points out.

You know he'll call when he comes back again. He does. Shows up at the threshold of your sanity and the hardest thing you've ever done is ignore his voice when it calls to you. Voicemail, after voicemail, after voicemail. You listen to every single one but you can't call him back. His voice is your kryptonite. You'd walk back the distance if only you could but some tattered remnants of your self esteem hold you back. The last one comes with a letter in the mail. The glossy embellished card reminds you of the reason you walked away. The reason you could never go back. He pleads over static and tinny phone lines:

"Come on sunshine. I need you there. I'm sorry. I'm so s-. Please. I- "

Silence for a few minutes before the line cuts off. Typical of you both. To never say what you want and yet be assured the other knows exactly what you mean. He probably knows too. That you can't bear to see someone else's name next to his. The thought makes you nauseous; angry in a way that scares you, an evil coiling restless being inside of you, threatening to do as he asks. Go over there and scream in his face. The audactiy of this man to say he needs you when all you ever wanted was for him to pick you. Over the chip on his shoulder, the gun in his hand, the name on that card. Choose you. Love you. But you can't do any of that. You can't stand by his side and smile as he walks away with another either.

His only mercy is that he doesn't show up at your doorstep when you both know he could and you wouldn't be able to close the door in his face. Not him. Never him.

You throw the card away without opening it.

He forgives you.

But he never calls again.

***

Months turn to years and David York turns from a stabbing ache into a memory and then a ghost. He haunts you initially, at every turn, but slowly, over the years, the voice in your head softens down. He vanishes into the fog that lingers at the back of your mind and you stop looking over your shoulder for him to come back. You left him so suddenly, so abruptly, that you'd torn off pieces of yourself too. But time heals those wounds and you gradually learn to carry on as half of your bleeding heart slowly scabs and scars over.

You carve out a content little place for yourself, in a tiny corner of the world as you finally learn to love the reflection in your mirror. There's grey in your hair now. Wrinkles in your skin and hands hardened over from a life lived serving others. Saving who you can, when you can. A melody on your lips as you collect the parcels from your mailbox. Cocoa and bitter coffee long since mask the taste of his name on your breath.

There's a knock at your door and you flit to open it. Your smile, a pale imitation of what it used to be, plastered on, as you brace yourself to greet a well meaning neighbour or two. It falls quicker than lightning at the sight that greets you instead.

A man wavers at your doorstep. Unfamiliar in his familiarity. The ghost of a memory of a love never forgotten. Dripping crimson over the smiley face on your welcome mat. A haphazard bandage concealing half his face. One hand clearly broken. Arm bent at an angle too sharp to be natural. Angry streaks of purple and blue dancing around all visible patches of skin and he's trying to be nonchalant about the way he's favouring his right leg but failing miserably. Wheezing a breath that you know speaks of atleast one, if not several, broken ribs. And yet, despite all the damage and destruction and sheer agonizing pain he's no doubt in, the man smiles. Full and bright and warm.

"Hey sunshine."

And you reply.

A gasp. A plea. A promise.

David.

****

[augustghosts]

Wedding Ring

Tangerine x Fem!reader

Summary: A wedding ring will not stop Tangerine from getting what (who) he wants.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Smut! Basically straight from the get go so 18+, minors leave pls. Cheating. Pinv. unprotected sex. Lots of teasing and dirty talk. Lots of pet names and swearing.

This is based off of the song Bad Thing by Arctic Monkeys lol. This actually has a little bit of plot, idk if it's gonna be boring or not. I kinda have an idea for a part 2… hehe. As always this isn't proofread soooo, lmk if you spot any dire mistakes. I hope you like <3

@slut4tangerine 🫶

“Your brother is next door.” Breathless, a sigh. Practically a moan. A dingy hotel room somewhere in a noisy part of the city. Cheap and small. They had only been in here a few minutes, their bags tossed by the door, curtains shut. Shoes still on but Tangerine had her up against the door nethertheless. His large, ringed hand gripped her waist tightly. His warm, kiss swollen mouth traveled down her neck.

“So?” She can feel the smile on his lips as he whispers against her ear. Another dreamy sigh leaves her mouth. “He’s tired. He’s probably already in bed. Don’t make me think about my brother right now.” He finishes his sentence by shamelessly palming her tits through her blouse. “All I've been thinking about is you.”

“Yeah?” She starts to reach for the buttons on his shirt.

“Yeah.” He groans when she gets the buttons undone and runs her palms over his chest. “I’ve been thinking about you all fucking day.”

“What were you thinking about?” He’s returning the favor now, ripping open her shirt. His eyes darted straight to her chest. Not as courteous as she was with his clothes.

“Been thinking about this stupid little skirt. Been thinking about how good you look in it.” His hands run down her back to grab at her ass, a firm squeeze makes her whimper as he says: “How good your ass looks in it.”

When he starts to kiss down her neck again, her head naturally moves to the side to give him some more room. A glint catches her eye, a small flicker of reflecting light on the bedside table. Her wedding ring sits neglected on the side, just like the man who gave it to her sits neglected on the other side of the world. He notices the change, he knows - he always knows.

“Don’t worry about it.” He mumbles, his hand weaving into her hair to make him look at her. His strong grip pulled her head back. His other hand on her back, keeping her flush against him. Keeping her there to feel how hard he already was. By it, he meant him. Her husband, her marriage. Tangerine hated thinking about it. She should have his ring on her finger, he would have bought her a much nicer one. He hadn’t held back from telling her this in the past and honestly, she believed him. He always made sure she had nothing but the best.

Taking off the ring didn’t make it any easier - maybe it made it worse. Thew thought of fucking her with the ring on made Tangerine’s cock stir to life. The thought of holding her hands above her head as he fucked her, while the ring sat there on her finger. Fuck, he wanted that. He wasn’t even sure why. But she always took it off and unfortunately for him, he had to respect that. Her brain constantly warns her that removing the ring every time probably makes this whole affair harder, the mere act of removing the ring makes her feel guilty. But there is just something about Tangerine that she can't resist. Something that she needs. Something that makes all of this strangely worth it.

Tangerine is like a whirlwind. His lips capture hers again, his hands continue their race to pull off her shirt - her bra following. He maneuvers her down to the surprisingly soft mattress. It never took him long to get her squirming and begging. She only needs half an excuse and she’ll be away with him. Away with him down the same road they’ve traveled a million times before. His lips leave hers to rid himself of his own shirt.

“Tan, please.” She whimpers below him. Her hands caressing his chest that was now bared to her - warm skin and muscle under her soft palms.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” He coos. “You want me to touch you?” One of his thick fingers trailed over her covered pussy, his arm pushing her skirt up over her hips. Her legs wrap around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer. His other hand comes up to cradle her throat. Such a simple touch yet it held everything. And he knew that she loved it. He drew back to look at her underneath him.

“You look so good like this baby. Tell me what you want.” He urged, his voice deeper. It wasn’t enough for him to feel it or see it, he wanted to hear it. Hear her beg for it, hear her beg for him.

“I don’t know.” She breathes. His grip on her neck is still tight. “Just hurry. Please.”

“You do.” He whispers. “Show me.”

She rolls her eyes at him, grabbing his hand that was around her neck and guiding it back under her bunched up skirt. The place that always ached for him. His touch is always electric. His hand slipped into her already soaked panties, she’d been wet for him for most of the day. But she wouldn’t tell him that. The last thing he needed was an ego boost. His fingers easily find her clit, circling it tightly - slowly. The whines and moans that she let out sounded heavenly, the sounds he always thought about when he was alone. His fingers slid down just a bit further.

“So wet for me already.” he groans. She was dripping for him, writhing against his hand. Craving him. She flushed as he held his hand up to the lamp beside the bed, his fingers glistened in the dull light.

“Look at that.” He smirked.

“Stop being a dick.” she said, reaching for his belt buckle. “Get on with it.”

“I just like taking my time with you, baby.” He said as he slipped his two fingers into her mouth, pushing them past her lips. Groaning at the feel of her mouth - warm and wet.

“I can’t wait to get my cock in between those lips.” He mumbled as he helped her with his pants, throwing them to the floor. He undid the zip at her hip, unraveling the skirt and slipping it down her legs, joining his clothes on the floor. He pressed a kiss to her navel as he slipped off her soaked panties next. Then, he was above her again- her hands cradle his neck as she pulls him down for a kiss. He kissed her like no one else. Better than her husband ever had.

“We’ll save that for later, I can't wait to have you baby. You look so pretty like this.” She was a sight that Tangerine thought he could worship for the rest of his damn life. Legs eagerly open for him, pussy glistening in front of him.

“Please Tan, I need you.” She whimpered. He smiled and stood on his knees before her. Pressing one last kiss to her lips before pulling away, grasping her waist in his strong hand - the other one holding his cock at her entrance. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“I thought I told you to stop being a dick?” Her ankles around his waist attempt to encourage him forward.

Tangerine laughed before wrapping his hand around the base of his cock and finally pushing inside of her. They both groaned in unison, moaning into each other's mouths. Fuck, he filled her up so well. It always felt so right. He started slowly, studying her face - engraving every little reaction into his mind. Waiting to hear her begging for him, the way he liked.

“Fuck, please.” She finally breathed out - she sounded heavenly. “Harder!”

“Yeah? You want it harder?” He pulled out, ignoring her whines of protest and gripping her hips. “Turn over for me, gorgeous.”

He helps up onto her knees and flips her over, a groan leaving him as she pushes her ass up into the air. He places his hand on the small of her back, forcing her to arch her back further. Her hands grip the pillow in front of her as he pushes back inside of her, immediately starting a bruising pace.

“Is this how you wanted it?” He asks. She moans in response, a firm slap to her ass encourages her to answer.

“Yes! Yes, fuck, Tan.” She practically shouts, her voice high pitched. The sound of skin on skin rings throughout the room, if she wasn’t so far gone she would be hoping they didn’t have anyone staying in the rooms next door.

He slaps her ass again, his palm soothing the spot afterwards as he mutters; “So fucking perfect, baby.” He loves seeing her face, loves the face she makes when she comes for him. But having her like this - back arched, face pressed into the mattress, it always ignited a fire in him. He keeps up his pace, she always marveled at how strong he was. A lot stronger than he looked, she had underestimated him when they first met. Something he would soon teach her to regret. She’s close - a tingling in her belly that travels down her legs tells her so. Her fingers come up to rub at her clit, it almost drives Tangerine insane.

“Oh fuck yes, touch yourself sweetheart. Shit, are you close, baby?” He’s close too, it’s so hard for him to hold back when it comes to her. He wasn’t even embarrassed about it, and he made sure she knew it. “So fucking tight baby, you feel fantastic. Gonna make me come all over you. You want that?”

“Yes! Please. I want it.” She screamed, she knew he liked it when she was vocal. “I’m gonna come, Tan. Shit, don’t stop!”

Her mouth opened, a moan of his name followed by her pressing her face into the pillow as she came. His hand wrapped into her hair, tugging her head back up. “Oh no you don’t.” He hissed, his teeth gritted, jaw tight. “I wanna fucking hear you baby. Fuck, i’m gonna come all over this gorgeous ass, sweetheart.”

And that he does, she’s still recovering - moaning softly and panting, when he pulls out and spills over her skin. His hand finishing himself off. A gruff moan of her name as she feels his seed drip down her thighs. Honestly, she could have come again just from the sounds he made. She collapsed onto the mattress, turning over onto her back - he flops beside her. She laughs when the bed creaks underneath them. Both of them are breathing heavily and she can feel him looking at her. she doesn’t want to turn, this was always the hardest part - meeting those big blue eyes and having to leave him behind.

When she does meet his gaze, it's exactly as she suspected. He’s looking at her hopefully, laying on his side, his head propped up on his hand.

“You know we only booked two rooms, right?” He says. “So, unless you’re planning on rooming with Lemon next door….”

He trails off, a proud smirk on his face. Two rooms. Of course. She knew she should have done it herself. Oh well, nothing she can do now. She’s tired and sweaty and honestly, going to sleep in Tangerine’s arms sounds like heaven. But first, she gets up to shower and of course, he follows. Half an hour later they are back in the bed, the room is dark but illuminated by the bustling city lights - reds and purples. An open window lets a comfortable breeze in, the soft sound of cars and Tangerine’s breathing fills her ears. His strong arm is laying over her waist, she’s pulled tightly to his chest - so warm. Fuck, she could get used to this. She really should have booked her own room. But for now, this is okay. Just this once.

[almightygremlinblob]

Yandere Yuji x Reader Snippet

Because MY GOD is writing yandere Yuji fun ASF. It should NOT be this fun. Like, I'm not even kidding, man.

AGEDUP!Yuji (not specified but I HC him as in his 20's during this) and Gender-neutral Reader but the nickname "Beautiful" is used. Actual fic will have a male and female version with Gender-neutral pronouns (aside from nicknames lmao). You know the drill; minors or anybody uncomfy with suggestive shit DNI and just scroll past pls, cuz this shit's not beta'd.

⚠️CONTENT WARNINGS⚠️ Non-con kissing & dry humping (brief)

"Y-yuji? H-how…but-? I thought they said you died…" You held him back, but stilled when his hands snake to your hips. Grip on them getting so much harder as he keeps your body flush against his. Something was wrong… "Y-Yuji?"

His lips crashed onto yours in a sloppy kiss.

"I don't know either. I-I just…I was so worried about you. Had to see you." He says in between his kisses. Breathing unusually heavy when he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Your body goes stiff when you feel his tongue drag along your neck, before his lips start to massage your skin there, too; so eager and hungry.

In a fit of panic, you try to push him away but he only tightens his hold on you. A hand moving from your hip to your back and keeping you flush against him. "M'sorry…just…p-please, fuck. Just let me…"

"Y-yuji, I don't...this isn't right-"

"You don't think I know that?! I know, I do..."

Ah, of course he knows...

"B-but I just…I can't help it." He lets out a soft groan, the hand on your hip now painfully holding you still as he grinds his bulge in between your legs. "Fuuck, I can't help it, anymore. Please…"

Yuji looks at you in the eye for the first time since he got back, and the moment you see them all watery, your resolve breaks. Hesitantly but gently, your hands cup his face and you begin to stroke it with your thumbs. "O-okay..."

His eyes widen slightly, pupils dilating even further and his mouth hanging loose just a little bit.

"Y-you have no idea…" Yuji practically whines as he leans in, and slowly his lips meet yours again - gentler, this time, but just as eager. You can't bring it in yourself to kiss him back. He begins to pant lightly as he pulls your shorts down, your shirt and underwear following - and then his own clothes shortly after. Swiftly, both of you were completely naked against each other. "Just how long I've felt this way…"

"Get on the bed, beautiful." You simply do as you're told, ignoring the sinking feeling in your gut. "W-wanna make it good for you, too. So…tell me what feels good, yeah?"

The room feels distant.

Everything feels distant.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.

Actual fic will be an expansion of a scene in my other Yuji one.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee! Also, if you wanna be added to the taglist just tell me either via reblogs or comments, whichever's fine.

[gyusimp]

°•Cry•°

Warnings: No smut today, lol just a bit angst sorry. I've been feeling like Gyutaro lately and today I felt like crying in the office so I better take the opportunity to vent and write a bit.

▪︎Song Inspo: "Cry" - Cigarettes After Sex (i love them so much, pls listen to their music 🤧)

He was better than him, or so Gyutaro thought of his best friend.

Best friend? Since when did he think of him like that? He was quite a close acquaintance, because for Gyutaro friends don't exist.

He sees himself and him thinking that they are complete opposites, so why do they get along so well? And they get along so well why couldn't Gyutaro help but be envious of him from time to time?

Douma was a handsome young man, posting pictures of himself everywhere he went to his hundreds of Instagram followers. His skin was smooth, pale and flawless without any blemishes, his toned body and height would make anyone who looked at him drool, his features well proportioned and even his style of clothing was similar to that of a k-dramas idols or models, dammit.

He had a lot of friends not only in college but also from his old school where he finished high school, all the girls were texting him and would be willing to line up behind him at least to get a closer look.

He loved going out on weekends for walks and raising all the looks he could to feel desired and be the center of attention wherever he went.

Douma wanted a girl? He could have her.

But Gyutaro, oh, poor Gyutaro...he was Gyutaro. Always with the same expression on his face of having smelled shit even if he really felt happy, his laugh was totally outrageous and his shaky and weak voice matched it.

He had a nice skin tone and beautiful blue eyes but these were surrounded by dark circles due to the exhaustion of working all day and being a university student in his free time, the skin of various parts of his body including his face were dotted with peculiar birthmarks, a few scars and little spots caused by the stupid shitty acne he had been fighting for years.

He made an effort to dress well but being too tall he couldn't even find pants that fit him correctly, being tall was not part of his insecurities but being someone that big intimidated other people making them move away from him even when he weren't did it on purpose.

His hair was styled the same way every day, if he tried to do something different with it it was hard to like it and he'd rather opt to tie up his messy curls the same way again. Gyutaro hated his hair.

He had no friends, sometimes he used to talk with Hakuji and Michikatsu in college besides Douma but apart from them he had no one else to talk to. He hated people and his asocial tendencies made it almost impossible for him to want to leave his house when the 3 boys asked him out on a weekend. He had better things to do, like resting at least 1 fucking day a week and spending time with the only person he really cared about in life, his little sister Ume.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

"Did you see her? I think it's her, right?"

Gyutaro looked up from his food towards one of the campus gardens, looking at the girl the blonde was referring to.

"It's her. Bro, do you really like her and can't recognize her yet?"

"It's nerves, I suppose." Douma said, laughing ruefully.

It had been several months since Douma had set his colorful eyes on a girl from college, no idea who it could be because she wasn't in the same class as them so that made things a bit more difficult for Douma to start his goal of getting to know her better. He didn't even know her name.

Gyutaro tried to help and advise his friend in what he could, he had never had a girlfriend before but for some reason he was good at romantic issues, although not when he had to apply them himself.

Recently, a girl at work had made Gyutaro's heart race every time he talked to her. She was too nice to him and they had a common taste for topics of conversation. It is not common for Gyutaro to feel romantically attracted to someone, it had been 4 years since his last disappointment in love so this time he was more mature and thought he would dare to open up more and maybe get to know this adorable and special girl more.

They were small steps but Gyutaro was determined and motivated by his co-workers, he would start by greeting her in a friendly manner, talking with her in free time and even bringing her some sweets or snacks to her desk making her smile and thank him tenderly, making his chest puff up proudly every time they were together... but not everything was rosy.

An idiot was behind her too. He had a girlfriend but he was still after every woman in the office that he could get for himself within the company, 7 years older than her and unattractive but still...she seemed to send all the little but sincere efforts from Gyutaro fucking down the drain. He was very disappointed, again.

Gyutaro cannot forget how one day he came to work earlier than usual and found them laughing and talking as if they had known each other for years and when they saw him they simply went to another place to continue talking alone...as if he was trash.

That day he decided to give up but if only his heart could stop feeling things for her so easily. She preferred that bastard, it wasn't safe at all but seeing them eat lunch together every day, talking when they could and coming to work together would drive Gyutaro into the head without fail, making him feel bad. It wasn't the first time this happened to him, other girls he was interested in before also rejected him without a second thought. They all told him the same shit about "She's missing it, don't worry about her." "The right one will come" but when? How much longer was he going to have to keep waiting when he was getting further and further along in his adult life? Were they sure the problem wasn't him? Because he was convinced of that. Different interests in different people, different places and stages of his life... and he was always rejected.

Gyutaro had so much love to give behind that serious face and "unfeeling" armor, but no one cared to know what was beyond all that. It was frustrating.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

Gyutaro worked on his computer on some university projects after work, he did it afterward before going to sleep to pay enough attention to his little sister when he got home and had dinner with her. It was almost 9:00 pm and several messages made his cell phone vibrate, he took it to turn on the screen and see the contact "Douma" who had sent him 5 messages. Gyutaro opened the app and everything was a summary of how his partner had gotten the number of the girl he liked at a college event, got her Instagram and following each other accompanied by some screenshots of the random topic conversations with the girl. This made Gyutaro happy for his friend though not entirely, maybe at first but a few days later it all became a bit annoying for him. Douma couldn't stop talking about this girl, how cute she was to him and all the things they both had in common, how she responded to his messages almost immediately, and how they complimented each other. Douma was just excited and he didn't do it with any bad intentions but Gyutaro couldn't help but feel that his college romance was being rubbed in his face while he had been sent to hell a couple of weeks ago.

Gyutaro didn't say any bad comments to his friend, he reserved all kinds of hurtful words because he really appreciated him but envy grew little by little inside him. Douma was smart and handsome, he had gotten the seemingly unattainable girl of his dreams in a matter of weeks even though the only thing they met to socialize with was campus 1 time a week, a year ago he didn't even know she existed and now maybe they would even end up dating or doing things together in college and this disappointed Gyutaro in himself.

Why couldn't he do that? Why didn't these things happen to him? Even Ume got a love confession a few days ago but he never got his turn at anything...he was sick of this crap of feeling like he was "begging" people for some affection...he was fucking tired of the constant rejection .

If Douma did it with a complete stranger then why couldn't he achieve anything with the people he lived with and saw every day at school or work, with people who were even his friends, who took the fucking trouble to learn his name well and greet him every morning, with whom he had common themes and similar details in their life...why not him?

Shit, he was crying, again.

He didn't like to do it but he had to. Ume was asleep in her room so she couldn't hear his sobs in the dark, he sighed heavily and wiped a few tears from his face when his cell phone vibrated again. He scrolled down the notification panel only to find more messages from Douma and more screenshots of his conversations with the girl to tell him that everything was going well.

Gyutaro wasn't in the mood, not now. He tucked his cell phone under his pillow and snuggled under the covers as he was lulled to sleep by the rain outside. Maybe if he slept early today his head would stop aching and spinning in the morning, hoping to have a clearer and less stressful day than today.

[nikibogwater]

I watched The Last Unicorn (1982) with very, very little prior knowledge of the film. And I wasn't planning to, but I ended up taking notes because wow. This movie. It's something.

The very little prior knowledge I had was as follows: it's an old animated film about a unicorn and I've occasionally heard people talk about it fondly. That's it, that's literally all I had going into this thing. It was not nearly enough to prepare me.

Ohhhh I love the scenery! Man, nothing hits quite like a traditional hand-drawn backgrou--OH MY WORD WHAT IS THAT WHY IS IT MOVING LIKE THAT STOP IT

Ohhh, this is a Rankin-Bass production? Well, that explains the animation.

Yeah that is not a unicorn, that's a llama with a table-knife glued to its head.

Ooh, the opening credits play over a lightly animated medieval tapestry! That's so coo--aaaaand they picked the most 80's sounding song I can imagine to go over it, okay.

Yo this butterfly is stoned out of his little buggy mind, maybe he should get some rehab.

Love that it's not immediately clear what the "red bull" actually is yet. Is it a literal bull? Is it a raging fire? Is it the inescapable march of industrial progress?? Gotta stay tuned to find out. (edit: it was literally just a bull and I need to stop reading symbolism into every little thing).

Ok ngl, the "Man's Road" sequence was actually fire, despite (or perhaps because of) the 80's cheese.

Angela Lansbury!!! Man, she just ate this role. Who'd've thought Mrs. Pots could sound so threatening?

I would die for Shmendrick.

Oh that is a very lore-accurate harpy right there. (⊙_⊙;)

Love how the witch's carnival arc touches on the idea of truth vs. wishful delusion. There's a beautiful irony in a movie about a literal unicorn talking about the importance of staying grounded in what is real and truly beautiful.

No, seriously, I would die for Shmendrick. Protect this precious man at all costs.

Can we pretty please stop calling the witch Mommy

"That's my immortality!" eyo this witch is actually a great villain. Really wish she could've stuck around for the whole movie.

Awww, the unicorn is taking care of Shmendrick! That's so sweet! God knows he needs it.

Shmendrick: Run! We'll find each other later! *immediately gets captured*

Have I mentioned that I would die for Shmendrick.

I feel like the entire bit with the outlaws had a lot of connecting shots cut out for time because I really couldn't follow any of what was happening.

Hehehe...That tree looks like a butt. I wonder if they did that on purpo--WHAT THE HELL

*nervously glancing over my shoulder to make sure my family doesn't see me watching this*

Unicorn to the rescue!! Thank heavens.

"That was true magic." Then please don't ever do true magic again.

"How dare you come to me now, when I am this?!" H-hey, nobody told me this movie was gonna go that hard...

Mom-friend acquired! Just in time, too. Unicorn looked like she was getting real tired of being the only one with two brain cells to rub together.

Our heroes: *bracing themselves for what may be the darkest, most dangerous part of their journey* Freakin' Gerry Beckley from "America:" 🎵MOON RISIN'! DISGUISIN'!! 🎵 Gotta love that tonal dissonance.

Oooh hey the animation on the Red Bull is actually kind of good!

Molly: DO SOME MAGIC! Shmendrick: I CAN'T! Molly: YES U CAN I BELIEVE IN U Shmendrick: *does some magic* Molly: NOOOOO WHAT HAVE U DONE Molly I love you, but make up your darn mind.

Love that being turned into a human being is like, the worst thing that could ever happen to the unicorn. Yeah, being human is a pretty awful experience.

Boy there is just empty static behind Prince Lir's eyes. Homeboy doesn't have a thought in his head and probably never will.

Lir: babe look I got u a severed dragon head pls love me

Oh yeah. Marry this one, Unicorn. He's a keeper.

Molly: Shmendrick will help! Unicorn: I hope for no help from him. He is no magician now, but the king's clown.

GURL SAY THAT AGAIN! U KEEP DISRESPECTING MY BOI SHMENDRICK AND U WILL GET THESE HANDS!

The pirate cat is now my second-favorite character. I've known him for all of 10 seconds, but I love him.

He doesn't actually purr. He just says, "Purr, purr." I love him even more now.

"No cat anywhere ever gave anyone a straight answer." Most accurate line ever put to film.

Unicorn, please marry Prince Lir, you well never find a purer source of Himbo Energy than him. Look at him, he's even singing badly for you, you gotta take this one.

"I mean you can't really be that ridiculous magician's niece--" BETRAYAL. OUTRAGE. SCANDAL. I DISOWN YOU, LIR, YOU FOUL SERPENT WHO SPEAKS NOTHING BUT FILTH. I HOPE THE UNICORN BREAKS YOUR STUPID LITTLE HEART

Dang. This guy voicing the skeleton is putting his entire heart and soul into that laugh.

Prince "I love whom I love" Lir will not be stopped even by the threat of potential bestiality. I'd say Husband Goals, but first of all, ew, and second, he insulted Shmendrick so he is dead to me.

"I wish to God I didn't care about anything but my magic, but I do!" Oh Shmendrick, honey... 🥺

Yooo, that transformation back into her unicorn form was actually sick. For a Rankin-Bass made-for-tv movie, this thing pulls off some surprisingly good animation every once in a while.

Yeah, kick his magical red butt, little unicorn! Go save your boyfriend and your family!!!

What is it with Christopher Lee and playing creepy old guys who get thrown off of towers at the end

Wait, no, I only sort of meant it when I said the unicorn should break Lir's heart, I didn't think they'd actually do it!

Molly ditched her outlaw husband to travel the world with Shmendrick and honestly, I'd do the same if I was in her place.

Oh wow. She chose to save her own kind and return to her forest even though she loved Lir. This is actually very bittersweet and--GOTDANGIT GERRY BECKLEY, NOT NOW!!!

Closing thoughts: This movie was an absolute trip and I'm probably going to think it was a fever dream I once had after some time has passed. It's also the only movie I can think of that I would actually want a remake/remaster of. The story was great, though it jumped around from place to place so quickly that it was sometimes hard to follow what was happening. I like the characters a lot (mostly Shmendrick tbh but they're all good), and I wish there had been more time to let them interact with each other. You can see the potential for chemistry between the different personalities, but it's stifled by moments of awkward voice acting and the strange, jittery character animation. With more time to breathe and better animation, this story would really be something amazing. I'm actually very interested in reading the original novel it was based on now, I'll have to see if I can get my hands on a copy. All in all, The Last Unicorn (1982) is a mind-boggling experience with surprisingly deep themes combined with what I can only assume is what you see when you're on acid. If you have any interest, I would highly recommend seeing this thing for yourself.

Yes. Even the Boob Tree. Please. I don't want to be the only one who is cursed to have that scene in my brain.

[shigarakisslutbag]

PLS DO SHIGGY THIGH FUCKING HCS thank u ily

I honestly didn't think I'd write on here again but I can't sleep and it's like 5:30 in the morning lol. So I'll write some thigh fuckin' headcanons to ease the stress 😎 (also TW: for thigh fucking, somnophilia, long post in general LMFAO. If I missed anything I apologize. Also it's now 6:19 after finishing it so there's probably typos I've missed after briefly skimming this so Im also sorry for that LMFAO)

(EDIT after writing. I'm so sorry this ended up not being headcanons and was just a full on drabble I found of pulled out of my ass but I hope you still enjoy it lol)

Now truthfully I havent even watched/finished the seasons after season 4 lol. I'm in the middle of season 5 still because I'm severely depressed and can't enjoy anything. But that doesn't mean I don't still love shigaraki and tbh I still read fanfiction from time to time about him or dabi.

I feel like a lot of people paint shigaraki as either absolutely vile and grimey or just aloof and soft with a grumpy attitude. And I feel like it's a bit of both. Which really plays into his sex life (if he'll ever have one). But even without a sex life, his personality most certainly plays into his fantasies and kinks.

I want to also emphasize that fantasies are just that, fantasies. Shigaraki most likely has plenty of fantasies that he'd never dream of acting out with his partner should he ever have one. I feel like even if he had some sick fantasies or kinks, and you happened to be okay with it, he would still be iffy because if this man, for whatever reason, picked you out of everyone else?? He's not going to treat you like absolute garbage. Shigaraki is definitely not the nicest person by any means, but by God if he cares about someone he fucking cares. Esp because you're probably the only person who actually loves him in his entirety. So if he's into noncon, somnophilia, predator/prey play, or whatever, it's going to be a while before he gets comfortable bringing up any of those fantasies with you.

Now that I've gotten that out of the way, you're wondering "goddamnit ash shut the fuck up and tell me the thigh f-" wELL THATS TOO DAMN BAD YOU LISTEN TO SEGGSY MONOLOGUE OR YOU GET NOTHING. ty luv u.

Okay so his fantasies right ? What are shigarakis kinks ? Does he have any? Oh absolutely. And they range from either something as light and soft as hickeys and tying you up in silk while eating you out for 2 hours to nipple clamps and making you wail with hot tears and shoving a dildo down your throat telling you take it like you've taken every other mans cock down your throat because he knows stupid sluts like you are always capable of doing those things if you know it'll make your pussy soak the sheets.

Now it's not his top fantasy, but thigh fucking. And God do you have the prettiest thighs. It doesn't matter is there's stretch marks, if they're chubby, skinny, or if you have immense scarring on them he LOVES them. He loves how soft they are. He loves how they look in shorts or a skirt (esp when you keep trying to pull them down a bit because they're a size smaller than what you wanted so they don't pudge out). He loves how your delicate hands lay on top of your thighs while you fiddle with your fingers out of nervousness. He loves the way they move when he walks behind you, you have a walk that puts any model to shame. He just loves them . And by God does he throb at thought of getting to push his cock past your sweaty or oily thighs. The head of his dick barely kissing your clit each time he thrusts. But that's not the biggest and best part at all. He wants to wake you up to it. You've told him countless times he can wake you up to any sexual acts but he's still nervous. But he's really horny right now. And you're sweaty from the lack of AC and you're naked on your side sleeping away. But he genuinely can't think of anything else other than how wet your pussy must be right now and how slick your thighs must be from the heat of the room. His cock is absolutely aching to slide between your thighs and folds. He has never felt so hungry until he met someone with a body as inviting as your own. He's been stroking for the past couple minutes but it's just not enough .

He peels off the throw blanket you have over you because despite the heat you always love your blanket to sleep. But even after the blanket is removed you still don't wake . He slowly examines your body and grazes his hand down your body. Going over your shoulders and arms to ribs to hip bone. Finally meets that beautiful soft ass of yours. He gentle lifts your thigh to angle and can see your pussy . Its so wet and glistening from the lights on the street coming in through your window, beaming in and lighting up your skin to a beautiful warm glow.

He lifts up one of your slick folds, seeing your pretty clit and rubbing his thumb in tiny circles on it. He can't take it anymore and slides his cock between your thighs, his shaft rubbing your leaking pussy and making your clit throb even more. You may be asleep but your cunt is always awake and ready to be touched by him.

He starts thrusting slowly to building up that pressure in his groin to make his orgasm feel even better in the end. He can feel you coating his shaft with your juices more and more with each desperate thrust he makes to your thighs. Your thighs are so sweaty and warm and grip his dick so nicely taking any and every drop of cum he wants to and could ever give you. He can hear slight wet sounds coming from your cunt with each thrust that keeps getting more rapid and animalistic with each thrust because you dont know how to stop being such a needy whore all the time even in your sleep. Before he knows it you're gushing and your cum is on the sheets making him go over the edge. Now he's spitting thick, white shots of cum all over your thighs while drops of it roll down your skin onto the bed as well. You're still mostly asleep, but youve adorned a dazed smile on your face with a satisfied tomura passed out next you .

[half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk]

Louk's Bad Batch rewatch part 23 !!!

I'm back batchers rip my sleep schedule lmao but nothing can stop me from watching tbb

I've got my skittles and my tumblr and disney+ and I'm ready to go 🤟

The Bad Batch 2x03

this entire planet looks like it's made of spice

nervous imperial you're not fooling anyone my dude

Tawni Ames 👑 shoutout to the queen herself Tasia Valenza 💕

CORUSCANT !!!

CROSSHAIR 🥺🥲😭💕❤ I missed you sm (I watched s1 hours ago 🤫)

another Kallus parallel 👀

regs will always hate tbb lololol

Rampart 🔫😁(me, I hate his guts)

32 rotations... 32 ROTATIONS I- 😫

the empire are bitches and we don't negotiate with terrorists

the memorial wall 🥲 (we're gonna pretend it isn't a bunch of random letters hehe)

a few behind Crosshair literally say: sdflkphi, dkniihqaz, aweututn, qqhgouer ~ anyone know more aurebesh than me who can explain this pls ??

he called him by his name !!!

CODY CODY CODY CODY 💕💕💕💕👑👑👑👑

Cody's face when Crosshair mentions the jedi 😭

the only two without their helmets on !!!

FLASHBACK TO THE FIRST BAD BATCH APPEARANCE IN TCW 👀

"mmhmmmm" ~ battle droid, bro 💀

"Dooku was right in the end" real

"We always get shot down when we travel with regs" 👀

"How unfortunate... for you" ~ someone else said this and now I can't find it 🙃 anyway I'm pretty sure it was Crosshair idk

the droid high five lmaooo

clever boys 👑

Crosshair and Cody team up will never fail to make me happy 👌

"I've beaten clankers with far less" tbb mention 🥲💕

Cody trusting Crosshair 🥰 "you do make things interesting" I'd love to see early Cody + tbb missions pretty pretty please 🥺

my mans doesn't even flinch !!!!!

I can feel his smirk when he blows up the tank hehe

Cody has a jetpack and still went nah Ican make that jump 😂 I mean he did but still

Cody complimenting Crosshair 💕

WYLER AND NOVA OWN MY HEART FR

droidekas !!!

Wyler r.i.p my love 💔

There is just something about clones vs droids ya know

Crosshair and Nova silent communication I love it 👌

Cody screaming for Nova and Crosshair pulling him away 😭😭😭😭

r.i.p Nova my beloved 💔

Crosshair's discs !!!!

backflip !!!!

knife knife knife knife knife- 👀

Crosshair calling for Cody to help 🙃

KNIFE KNIFE KNIFE KNIFE KNIFE-

Crosshair putting the puck in Cody's hand - bro at first I thought mans was too injured to move the way he was like 'throw it for me I can do it from laying down in this spiral staircase' and he makes the shot and stands up 2 seconds later and is back to committing war crimes ?? Crosshair you dramatic bitch 💀

"nice throw" "nice shot" 🥰🥰🥰🥰

notice how the tk troopers got captured so they send clones to get them out.... 🙃

Mina Bonteri 💔

"peace was never an option" devastating

the clone music when Cody reasons with Tawni 😫🤧

Crosshair following orders but also saving Cody from having to kill Tawni

the Crosshair music 🥲

"so much for peace" 💔

"put her body in the square" but I can imagine how gentle he would have been with her body... do you think he left his helmet off so the people could see his face or did he cover his face for that

Ok I want to go full english teacher for a moment I'll do it in a few eps watch this space 👀

Crossy and his lil toothpick 💕 (he just murdered someone)

the clones did the dirty work now more tk troopers arrive 😡

Cody's whole speech 💔😭 "we make our own choices and we have to live with them too" knowing he's thinking about everything he's done and thinking he killed Obi-Wan... what if I screamed into the abyss ???

Crosshair not being able to sleep 😫

Rampart doesn't even know their names 😡

OKAY do we think "gone awol" means Cody has actually left or is he awol the same way Wilco is??

COME ON CROSSHAIR JUST LEAVE THE EMPIRE ALREADY 😫

hehe thank you for coming to my 2am tbb rewatch (again hehe) 💕 sorry it's late again if you saw any spelling miatakes no you didn't 🤟