#aNYWAY SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY AGAIN

[nebula-drcams]

@plasticsouled asked: " i stayed. " // Todd for Nimue hehehehe

the receiver has told the sender that they haven't slept for several days due to intense nightmares, and asks them to stay the night so that they might be able to sleep. send in " i stayed. " for the receiver to waken the next morning and find the sender to still be sitting by their bedside, having stayed the whole night to ensure they slept. || Currently Accepting

   She knew it was bound to happen the moment Todd had caught her awake at a rather unreasonable time, though she'd like to ask what he was doing up at that hour too but it didn't much occur to her since it had been a few days since she slept. Exhaustion was most likely far too evident, and she couldn't just claim she was tired from trying to get things fixed up for them.

   Not with how tired she was considering she had bumped into him in the process of it all, not even realizing he was there despite there being enough light to show otherwise. That being said, despite claiming she was fine and that she would go to sleep after this, it was clearly a lie, and she should've known word would spread around the Brotherhood house pretty quickly. She can't even fault Todd for telling the others either. 

   The next few days felt .. odd to her, odd in a way that she couldn't quite process why they were trying to help her with methods to sleep. Granted, she appreciated it, but it just seemed so foreign to her. It didn't help that every method they tried to suggest, she had already done on her own, and sooner or later she had to share what was going on. 

   The previous night she had managed to get Todd's attention, nervousin general to even explain why she struggled to sleep, she's pretty sure it'd all just get brushed off. It's always Todd she seems to go to, to confide in first, but can she be blamed for that? He's the first one to create some sort of bond with her. 

   Most would probably find it strange, the nightmare of hers. One where the world gradually crumbles and the people vanish around her, leaving her alone, and it's gotten worse since she's learned she's a mutant. A voice often echos, telling her that only she will be to blame for this outcome. It's a bit .. surreal for her, and she's always dreaded being alone which makes it even worse. 

   Despite his offer to stay beside her, she doubts that he'll stay the whole night. She wouldn't be mad if he left once she fell asleep either. Even with him there, she didn't really want to sleep, what if she ends up having it again and .. Well, not much of a what if if she knows the outcome. Hesitating for a moment, she pulls him into a hug and whispers a thanks before letting him go.

   Not much of a choice at this point, other than to fall asleep expecting a nightmare that seemed to never come. 

   When was the last peaceful sleep she got? Usually, her body just shuts down and she's stuck in that nightmare for what seems like forever, but instead there's nothing, not that she's complaining of course. It's just .. odd. 

   Still half awake, she slowly turns her head in the direction where Todd was last night, only to abruptly sit up out of surprise. She's about to ask if he stayed the whole night when he confirms it himself, well, sort of. There's a slow process as she tries to piece things together, was .. someone just being there the solution to stop the nightmares? She'll figure that out more later.

   Grabbing his wrist, she pulls him forward, even if it knocks her back onto the bed, but she doesn't exactly care considering she's latched onto him in a hug. Grateful for him just being there, even though he didn't have to. This only tells her that she made the right choice in trusting him, though there's a small hint of something else starting to grow as well but she hasn't quite pieced that one together yet.

" Thank you, Todd. I owe you one .. "

   Says the girl who keeps doing anything and everything she can for him and the rest of the Brotherhood .. 

[harbingersglory]

Thoughts on transfem Ningguang with a fem!reader whose her bodyguard? Fem!reader whose like a loyal, protective dog out in the world when they're out and about together, but an utter submissive puppy behind closed doors for the Tianquan?

literally shaking like a chihuahua oh what i'd do to be the Tianquan's lap dog..mean femmes are so attractive its like putting my brain in a blender.

It's not surprising the Tianquan has a bodyguard. She's a key political figure in Liyue and anyone aiming to dismantle the carefully curated hierarchy has her at the top of the list. To the public, your just muscle to intimidate the lesser crooks from even thinking about it and deal with those who get too bold.

Behind closed doors, though? Your nothing but the Tianquan's lap dog at her beck and call.

She isn't fond of public displays, but she does like hiding it in public just for the thrill. Knowing you wear your collar under your uniform so you'll always remember who holds your leash is a thrill she can't beat.

She's a bit mean and sadistic, really, but she's the Tianquan. She has the money to spoil you like a good puppy afterwards..so long as you behave and exceed expectations. Whether you lean more dominant or submissive doesn't matter, since you'll probably be subbing whether your top or bottom. It's a different kind of thrill to make you sit on her lap, stuffed full of her cock, while she works. That or she has you under her desk, one hand fisted in your hair while she uses your mouth instead.

She has to be at the top of her game, after all, and her position is a stressful one. What better way to de-stress then to put her little puppy to good use? You're just so pliant when she orders you on your knees.

She keeps it tame if thats more your thing, but if you give her the go ahead she will buy you muzzles. Some just the standard muzzle, others with gags, plenty of collars and leashes for all sorts of occasions..she might even get you faux ears and a tail just for a little finishing touch.

She's just as big on aftercare, though. She puts her money to good use spoiling you, partially because she knows she can get a little rough with you. That and as much as she likes to call you her puppy, she won't have you smelling like a wet dog. Get in the bath.

You won't stay clean for long, especially because she absolutely goes all out on her tub so it's more then big enough for some extra activities, but it's better then nothing.

Sometimes, though, she just needs to be pampered herself. She adores body worship after a particularly stressful day. Just lounging in half tied silk while you worship every inch of her.

And if anyone notices you limping the morning after..they say nothing. They just chalk it up to a fight with some assassin or similar. And if they do know, they know better then to bring it up.

Bonus for being shared with Beidou when she drops by Liyue harbor. Nothing like a rowdy pirate to shake things up and make a mess of you on the Tianquan's bed while she watches.

[koobiie]

fanart for what may be my favorite fic of all time, Running Behind by @asidian! here's prompto enjoying all the foods from the fic beacuse he deserves it <3

[quibbs126]

My brain got caught on Star Vs this morning, and I’m thinking about Miss Heinous/Meteora, and I’m wondering, why does she look so different between her initial appearance and her new form? As in like, design wise, such as having purple hair, red eyes, and pointed ears and such

I assume the out of universe reason is that they wanted to change her design to suit their new needs. Thinking back on her initial appearance, I’m guessing they had thought of the idea of Miss Heinous being secretly part of the Mewman royal family when they made her, considering her cheek marks and the fact that they’re clubs, and the rest of the notable royals had the other card symbols, as well as the fact that she consciously tries to suppress them, but hadn’t fleshed out the idea until Season 3 or something. So they wanted to change her design now that they knew where they were going

But like, in universe, why did her appearance change? She had grey hair (though with a slight purple tint) and small black pupils before, and we see in the Season 3 flashbacks that she’s always had that. Why is it different when she gets “reborn”?

[cepheusgalaxy]

Oh you're Brazilian, correct? *saw ur bio*

I was wondering if there's anything I should or shouldnt do when making a Brazilian OC.

Oh hi!

First of all, thank you for the ask :) I'm very happy you decided to make a brazilian oc, whatever is the reason (if any at all lol) 👍 Keep up the good work.

Now, generally, what you should avoid are the most common stereotypes assossiated with latin people in general (like the Latino Lover stereotype), and some specifically assossiated with us a lot:

The Soccer Player ("every brazilian [black] guy obv plays soccer"), the Samba Dancer ("every brazilian black girl dances samba"), the Sexy Brazilian (everybody has their preferences ig but try to step away from fetishization--also falls into the latino lover a little) and the Carnival Party Person ("brazil is a very big carnival party all of the time") are some examples of stuff you should avoid.

Some things I would advise you to consider aside from this are A. Their race, B. The area they're from and C. Cultural differences (I'm gonna list them in a bit).

I mention race here because a very common thing in Brazil, actually (at least if you don't consider the South/South East) is the miscigenation phenomena. Long story short, some centuries ago, the colonizers had an... "idea" of toning down the population of black people in the country, so interracial relationships were very incentivated to "breed" lighter skinned black people. Results: On this day, most brazilian people in the Northern areas are not 100% black, but very very mixed (like me). A lot of people have dark skin, though.

Now, the area where they are from would also play a big factor in the things you want to consider, because Brazil is big, so we generally divide it into five areas (this division was made in 1969 i think, by the IBGE--the brazilian institute of geography and statistics): The North, North East, Central West, South East and South. If you search for a map with this categorization you'll be able to see it.

Culturally, these areas are very different, but I'll go through them briefly here.

North - most of the indigenous folk are concentrated here (for many historical reasons) and here is also the Amazonic forest (a bit of it is in other countries' territorries but I don't remember exactly which). The demographic density (which is the amount of people per say, mile) is very sparse, and despiste it being the largest area out of the five it isn't the most populated. Indigenous cultural heritage is the strongest here.

Nort East - warmest area in the country. The majority of people here are black or brown (for a lot of other historical reasons i unfortunately can't go on about here but they are very interesting if you wanna search up) and African cultural heritage is the strongest here.

Central West - has a very little amount of states here, and also the Federal District--aka the capital, Brazilia (fun fact: Brazilia isn't localized in any state, like the capital used to be, it is separated, so that's why we say Brazil has 26 states + one federal district). I don't know a lot about this one, so I'm gonna rely on Google a little, but basically:

That's the only area that is not bathed by the Atlantic, so no sea here at all, and back in Colonization Days, it was a very explored area for mineration (one of the states here, Minas Gerais, was named because of that, fun fact). Most of the population here is white (50,5%) and brown [mixed race] (43%) source (wikipedia page for the Central West in portuguese).

South East - as we go down here, the areas start getting cooler and whiter. The biggest cities of the country are here: São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. White population, as I said before, is strongly concentrated here, because Back In Colonization Days, a lot of europeans (mainly italians and germans i think, although i might be wrong on this one) migrated to there and the South because the climate is more like in Europe than in the northern areas. This is probably what most people think when they say 'Brazil' (that or the amazonic forest, ofc), because media wise, it covers mostly carioca Carnival (Carnival from Rio de Janeiro) or the super urban city of São Paulo. Fun fact: One of the Seven World Wonders, the Christ The Redeemer statue is located there, in the RJ.

South - smallest area in the country. There are literally just three states here. It's also the coolest area out of the five, and there is even snow here! The European heritage is very strong here, also because of the migration from a few centuries ago.

If you want more insight on a certain specific area for your character, I'd be very happy to help! :) I myself am from the North East, so I have the most information about that, tho.

Now about the cultural differences in general.

A few important things that really differ are:

The culinary (depends of the area, though: up north it will have more african and indigenous dishes, down south there will be more european dishes and stuff)

The climate (if your character is from the northern areas, they will have a hard time adapting to any cool areas they might be in now--in the North East we're used to an average 25º C, or 70º F, for example, so if things go cooler they're gonna want to be very warm)

The measurements (celsius degreees vs farhenheit, miles vs kilometers, centimenters vs feet and inches, etc.)

The calendar: In the South Hemisphere, unlike in the North Hemisphere, summer is on the last and first months of the year and winter is in the middle. Basically, the seasons are inverted up there in relation to here

The school year also works a bit differenly, for that matter: Janurary and the first week of February are summer vacations, and then the year starts. A few weeks later, we have a few more weeks off for Carnival, so no school then too, and *then* you could say the year actually starts. In June (winter), we have a 10-day break for São João festivities (at least in the North East because São João is a cultural "festival"--if that's the right word), and then summer break starts around the end of November or the end or December, depending on the exact school.

Oh yeah, and one more big difference your character might find strange assuming they're in the US or a similar country now: In Brazil we have a thing called SUS - the Unique Health System (Sistema Único de Saúde), which is a free health service for everybody, funded by taxes. I heard that in the US all medical care is private, so I wanted to highlight that in Brazil we have free public healthcare and then also the private hospitals, so that could cause some cultural chock, lol

Same thing for college: There are a lot of public universities. There are actually many differences between usamerican and brazilian education system, but the main ones are that.

If you have any further asks, feel free to send them, I'd love to go deeper into one single thing if you want it. Good luck with your oc <2

[stormyoceans]

what do you think happened on morkday's shopping trip that cause day to wander off the streets by himself? i think he was tryna get help after seeing mork get beaten up...?

OKAY SO. first of all im already gonna apologize because instead of giving you a short and direct answer like any normal person would, im taking this chance to present my entire theory about what's gonna happen. please scroll down to the tl;dr at the end to save yourself from my clownery ;;;;;;

that being said, here's what i think the timeline is gonna be. the trailer has shown us a shot of mork wearing an ankle tracker, so i think everything starts with this:

it's still hard to see even if i've brightened it up a little, but here you have phorjai crying and mork behind bars wearing his mechanic clothes. i think before our story starts, mork did something to land him in jail, most likely for beating someone up like it's hinted in the trailer. i also think mork going to jail is the reason he and phorjai break up: he probably thinks she deserve better, and as much as she loves him, it's hard to be with someone who's not there. at the beginning of the show, mork probably gets paroled (hence the ankle tracker), which however comes with two essential conditions: 1) finding a stable job, and 2) good behavior. people aren't very inclined to hire an ex-convict tho, so mork keeps getting rejected

it's probably why mork barged in so aggressively when he thought they weren't allowing him to take an interview: if he doesn't get a job, he's gonna go back to jail. and that's when he meets day. day who can't see the ankle tracker around his ankle (and probably wouldn't care about it even if he could) and who isn't put off by his rough behaviour

so mork gets a job and manages to stay (mostly) out of trouble, until at some point he and day are out shopping and the worst happens: someone probably ends up provoking mork in some way, or maybe even tries to go for day, and even if he should know better at that point, mork reacts. badly. and beating up someone (which is what most likely landed him in jail the first time) in broad daylight in a public space with tons of people as witnesses is very much the wrong thing to do

i honestly wouldn't be surprised if someone called the cops and mork got arrested once again. now think about day in this situation. day who can't see what's happening and who we know, from the oishi honey lemon 0% sugar video we got, doesn't even have his cane to help him walk around because he was fully relying on mork's guidance. he's suddenly gonna find himself completely alone amidst the chaos, in a place he's not familiar with and with no way to tell where he should go or where mork is (and isn't that gonna make mork feel so devastatingly guilty)

so yeah, tl;dr: i think during the fight mork and day are gonna get separated, and day is gonna slightly panic trying to find mork again and navigate the place without any type of guidance

[nyxi-pixie]

look away guys im losing my marbles but everyday i wish mori wasnt such a weirdo bc it makes ppl completely unable to think abt anything else about him. like that fuckin pseudo paternal shit hes got going on w dazai??? makes me wanna eat rocks.

[tardis--dreams]

Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care

[ruvviks]

– OC RED FLAGS.

TAGGED BY: @shellibisshe, @strafethesesinners, @aartyom & @katsigian, thank you so much!! TAGGING: @reaperkiller, @steelport, @arklay, @faarkas, @swordcoasts, @morvaris, @cultistbase, @liurnia, @girlbosselrond, @devilbrakers, @necro-hamster and YOU! – quiz ☆

– STUBBORN.

you don't recognize the opinions and beliefs of others, either that or you don't care about them. you stick strongly to what you were raised to doing, and don't realize that the world can change. you have extremely strong beliefs, and you think that if another's beliefs aren't the exact same as yours, they're wrong and you automatically hate them. you also might be political and close minded

director’s commentary: mikhail is 100% a stubborn little man. it’s more in the sense of him continuously putting others’ needs before his own and when people tell him to stop he doesn’t listen <3 which he needs to stop doing because it’s going to get him killed one day. HOWEVER the description (not all too accurate) DOES mention sticking to beliefs strongly and mikhail does have that a little bit- for example, his black-and-white thinking about platonic love versus romantic love that i described in a post at some point, which made it hard for him to be more physically affectionate with his friends. he has more little things like that which he holds on to for a very long time because that’s how he’s been raised (or it’s bad coping mechanisms from when he lost contact with vitali for six years) and he doesn’t know any better and he’s for a while too stubborn and too scared to look for alternatives until vincent comes along <3 but he would also never hate his loved ones for having different views on stuff like that. in fact he ends up spending a good amount of time trying to understand other people’s views and eventually manages to let go of his own ways a bit because it’s much healthier for himself that way

– FAKE.

you are a toxic human being. you belittle others, and are overly competitive. you probably envy those who have it better than you so you try to manipulate the person into feeling worthless so that you can feel superior. you are never there for your friends in time of need but you expect them to always be at your service

director’s commentary: NOOOO THIS ONE IS MEAN WEHGFJDGHDFJG ok so i guess it Does fit a little bit? the description is a bit much, everyone who’s read about vincent knows he’s not like that lol but he DOES have a lot of envy in him that he needs to work on. if anything it’s more of a passive feeling inside him that can make him close himself off on occasion but it’s not an active feeling, he would never go around manipulating others and he is Always there for his friends. his envy as well as his competitiveness come from him being the youngest of five and he’s had to fight for his spot for basically his entire childhood and he hasn’t been able to let go of that yet- and this mostly translates to him doing the most on gigs to the point he’s a danger to himself (and sometimes others!!) and also he likes to steal from rich people <3 and then there is once again the added layer of having had to share a body with johnny, which puts the “fake” into a whole different perspective. johnny’s personality has definitely leaked over into vincent a little bit and sometimes even for him it’s hard to tell if something he does or thinks originates from himself or from silverhand

– VIOLENT.

when something makes you upset, it could even be the tiniest most petty reason ever, you yell, rage, and possibly throw stuff in anger. your actions think quicker than your mind, and it could probably not even be intentional but the next thing you'll realize is that you've hurt someone

director’s commentary: when i first took this quiz for vitali i got “lack of trust” which fits him a lot better than this one but i wanted to see if he could still get this result as well and, well, here we are. he would never hurt his loved ones and the broker fic is proving that quickly but with the way he so fiercely defends those he cares about, he can absolutely get violent when it comes to his enemies. vitali’s anger is one of the main themes of the broker fic and it shows how he’s worked so hard all his life to find healthy outlets and ways to keep himself under control- and then it shows how this all falls apart when his anger starts putting him in the passenger seat of his body because of the remnants of arasaka’s brainwashing tech in his head. him torturing dupoint, him screaming and punching the wall in the abandoned arasaka facility the day after matvey nearly shot and killed mikhail, him having that argument with daniil- all signs of that river inside him overflowing, if we were to stick to matvey’s metaphor. as you can see i’m very normal about it <3

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

What was the formative experience that made you realise sex work was a thing you wanted to do?

You're obviously very good at it, so was it something that arose from your sex life? Or were you driven (positively) to it by something else?

Well, I'd say it was a combination of several important factors (sorry, this is a looong one)

First, I spent a almost half of my twenties in a mostly long-distance relationship. It was made clear to me that in the course of this relationship that if I didn't provide titillating images/video to my partner, they would amuse themselves elsewhere. So I was always trying desperately to push myself in that regard, because I wanted them to myself. More importantly, I needed to feel wanted as well. I got used to expressing my sexuality and desire through the camera, because that was what always garnered the strongest positive response. Even if that meant going into sketchy situations sometimes in pursuit of that response. So that was six years of my life (before the relationship imploded spectacularly) and that reward loop got hardwired in there pretty good.

Fast forward to a couple of years ago. Terminally single for over 5 years. Hated my life, hated myself. Could barely stand to look at myself in the mirror, much less take a decent selfie any more. My libido had shriveled up and died. Masturbating was a chore that I usually avoided because it mostly just made me more acutely aware of how lonely I was, and because I had nobody to comfortably fantasize about. And then I met D and that sparked me up something fierce! I felt desirable again. And of course pictures (and more specifically his reaction to them) was a way to confirm that I was still sexy to someone. Someone that I was falling for intensely. After a month of fun dates and amazing sex, he left town and history repeated itself when this dumb bitch got all wrapped up in yet another LDR. And boom, back to sending pics as a way of keeping the desire going.

And then, inevitably, it didn't work out. He broke it off last year. And I realized that if I didn't do something to keep that positive feedback going, my libido was going to die again. And then I probably would also go back to being unable to ever look at myself in the mirror or love a single thing about my body or have an orgasm more than once every six months or whatever. Similarly, my revamped sense of artistic drive and creativity would probably also dry up without the occasional mood lift.

So that's when I decided to start an OnlyFans to channel all of my horny creative energy into something somewhat productive/lucrative. Having subscribers (and also lots of wonderful Tumblr supporters) encourages me to stick to it and continue making content. I don't make all that much money off of it for the most part, it's mostly just a creative outlet. An effort to remind myself that I am worth something, anything. If not ever loveable or dateable, at least attractive to some.

TLDR: the only big relationship of my twenties trained me to get off extra on positive responses from sexy pics, then after my last failed relationship I decided to start an OF to continue getting positive responses (and also moneys) rather than let my libido go into hibernation

[phagodyke]

I still can't believe they're charging THAT much for the shadow of the erdtree dlc... for like 2/3 of the base game price there fucking better be 100+ hours of content in there 🤨

[quibbs126]

So today I randomly stumbled across this in my searches, it’s called snow fungus

Looked interesting, thought it’d make an interesting Cookie

Also speaking of which, we are severely lacking in mushroom based Cookies. As far as I’m aware, all we have is Poison Mushroom (and maybe Truffle? Not sure they’re mushrooms). There should be more. I mean, they’re edible! Some of them

Like screw more sea Cookies, give us mushroom Cookies! Give them us till we’re sick of them!

[coryndoll]

routledge!reader x rafe, after big john comes back and finds out that both of his kids are dating the camerons, he gets mad, especially at his daughter, cause he thought that she wasn't thinking straight. After a few days, he throws a stupid comment about rafe when they were with the rest of the pogues and reader just snaps at him. pure angst now 🥰 she realises that he's never been a good father, only caring about treasures and yells that she wishes he never came back. Then goes to rafe, crying, for comfort 💕 (i love angst im sorry.)

hold me close

rafe cameron x routledge!reader

warnings: angst, swearing, a kiss, pretty safe !!

authors note: OKAY ik thats trevor n not rafe but erm, we’ll pretend bc that pic is what gives the energy for this oneshot. anyway hii, hope u guys enjoy this one. feel free to send any requests guys! n thank u for 1k followers yesterday. ilyasm <33

you sit in the backyard, the soft hum of cicadas filling the warm night air. the pogues are just behind you, laughing and talking in a huddle. it feels good to see them like this again—normal, for once, after everything.

after the chaos of the last year, of treasure hunts, betrayals, and close calls. you’ve always tried to stay out of it, letting john b and the others chase after the gold while you lived your life. but eventually, you couldn’t stay on the sidelines, not when rafe got involved, not when it became a matter of life and death.

it’s been hard, being stuck between two sides, torn between your brother and your boyfriend. but tonight, you just want peace.

you glance over at your dad, sitting a little ways away from the group, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin on his face. big john routledge—alive, after these three years. you still can’t believe it sometimes.

he looks different, a little more worn, a little rougher around the edges, but the way he carries himself hasn’t changed. he’s still larger than life, still full of stories, still your dad. and god, you missed him.

he catches your eye, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. like you’re just a kid again, sitting with your dad, listening to him talk about his crazy ideas, his wild adventures.

“you know,” he starts, leaning forward, “i remember that time you and john b tried to catch that fish out by the dock, and you both fell in. i swear, i thought i was gonna have to drag you two out myself,” he says, chuckling to himself, shaking his head like the memory is some long-lost treasure of its own.

you smile, even though it feels a little bittersweet. “yeah,” you murmur under your breath.

you pull at a piece of grass by your feet, your fingers absentmindedly tearing at it. you’ve waited so long for this moment—for him to come back, for your family to feel whole again.

but now that he’s here, you don’t know what to do with it. you can’t shake the feeling that something’s changed, that he’s not just the dad you remember, but something else entirely. still, you can’t help but feel like the little girl who always looked up to him, who wanted nothing more than to make him proud.

“i never thought we’d see you again,” you mumble, your voice low, barely above a whisper. you don’t look up from the grass, your fingers still picking at the blades, but you can feel his gaze on you.

“i never thought i’d be back either,” he admits quietly. “but i couldn’t stop thinking about you two. every day out there . . . i thought about coming home.”

you scoff softly, a bitter smile pulling at your lips, even though you don’t mean for it to. “but you didn’t,” you say, barely above a whisper. “you didn’t come back for three years.”

he shifts in his seat, his fingers tapping against the arm of the chair. “it wasn’t that simple, y/n,” he says. “i was trying to protect you. there are dangerous people out there, people who want what we’re after. i couldn’t come back until i knew it was safe.”

you nod, but it’s a hollow gesture. you’ve heard it all before from other people—the excuses, the treasure, the danger. it always comes back to that.

you glance at your friends, laughing and sharing stories with each other. you’ve spent so long trying to push this life aside, to live outside of the mess of treasure hunts and betrayals. but it always pulls you back in.

“yeah, you always did put the treasure first,” you murmur as you face forward again. you’re not even sure if you mean to say it out loud. it’s more to yourself, just a thought that’s been living in the back of your mind for too long.

“don’t do that.” he leans forward, his voice soft, almost pleading. “i did it for you and john b,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “for our family. i wanted us to have something—something big, something that would change everything.”

“yeah, but we didn’t need that,” you say, your voice small, but firm. you’re still pulling at the grass, twisting it around your fingers. “we just needed you.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment. it’s like he’s trying to figure out what to say, but there’s nothing that can fix the years of distance. nothing that can make up for what you lost when he left.

there’s a long silence, and for a moment, you think maybe this is as close as you’ll ever get to understanding each other. you don’t want to fight tonight. you just want to sit with him, to pretend that things could go back to how they were before.

“so,” he starts again, his tone shifting back to playful, like he’s trying to lighten the mood, “you and john b teaming up with the others to chase down treasure? guess it runs in the family.”

you laugh, but it’s a little forced. “yeah, well, i tried to stay out of it. but . . .”

“but what?” he presses, leaning forward with a smirk. “got a little taste of adventure, didn’t you?”

you glance up at the marsh, a faint smile on your lips. “something like that,” you mutter.

but you don’t mention rafe, don’t mention how he’s become a part of this tangled mess, how hard it’s been being caught between him and your family. you’ve already told your dad the day you reunited a few days ago in barbados. didn’t end well that time either. you don’t want to ruin the moment, don’t want to start another fight.

but, as if the universe is reading your mind, your dad shifts the conversation in a way that makes your stomach drop. “just promise me,” he says, suddenly serious, “you won’t let that rafe cameron kid get too close. he’s no good, y/n.”

the words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you just sit there, staring at him. it takes you a second to process what he’s said, to even understand the casual way he’s dismissed rafe, like it’s nothing. like he’s nothing.

“and i hear john b’s with sarah now, too?” his tone shifts, bitter and disapproving. “so now both of my kids are wrapped up with the camerons. hell of a choice you both made.”

you freeze, your stomach tightening. there it is. you knew it was coming, but it still hits you like a punch to the gut. it’s not the first time he’s made a comment about rafe, and you thought you were doing the right thing confessing what’s changed since you last saw him, but now he’s dragging john b into it, and that makes it worse. so much worse.

“dad,” you start, trying to keep your voice steady, but there’s an edge to it, a warning. “don’t.”

he shakes his head like you’ve said something ridiculous. “no, i am gonna say something. sarah, rafe, they’re cameron’s kids. ward cameron’s kids. you’re smart enough to know better than to get mixed up with people like him. they’re bad news. always have been.”

“yeah, but they’re not like him,” you snap, your voice sharper than you intended. “sarah’s not ward. rafe’s not ward. they’re not their father.”

he just laughs, but there’s no humor in it. it’s harsh. “you really believe that?” he asks, shaking his head again. “they’re camerons. it’s in their blood. you think you’re any safer with rafe than you were without me here? because i’m telling you right now, you’re not.”

you stand up, your hands balled into fists at your sides. you’ve heard enough. for days now, you’ve listened to him make little digs about rafe, about the camerons, and you’ve kept your mouth shut. but tonight, it’s too much. you can’t keep it in anymore.

“three years, dad. three years you were gone, chasing your stupid treasure, while we were stuck here. john b and i had to figure it out on our own. so don’t stand there and act like you have any right to tell me who i should or shouldn’t be with.”

big john looks at you, stunned, like he’s seeing you for the first time. but you’re not done. there’s too much you’ve kept bottled up, and now it’s all spilling out.

“you care more about that gold than you ever did about us,” you say. “you care more about treasure than you do about being a father. you don’t know anything.”

big john’s face hardens, his jaw clenching as he stares at you. “i know enough,” he says, his voice cold. “i know who the camerons are.”

“yeah?” you snap, your voice breaking. “well, maybe if you’d been here, you’d actually know something about me too.”

you turn on your heel, ready to storm off, but the moment you move, you notice it.

the pogues are silent now, all of them watching. sarah, jj, pope, kie—they’re still, their conversations dropped as they stand there, wide-eyed and uneasy. john b, though, he’s just sitting there with his can of beer held low in his hands, lips pressed together. you can tell he’s heard it all before. he’s not going to step in because he knows you need to let it out.

you’re just done with it. you take a step forward, ready to leave this backyard and the suffocating tension behind. but something stops you, a feeling gnawing at your chest, pulling you back. you hesitate, turning just enough to glance at your dad over your shoulder.

he’s still staring at you, his expression set like stone, as if he’s waiting for you to say more, to take it all back, maybe. but you won’t. not now.

your voice wavers, but it’s steady enough. “i wish you never came back.”

his face doesn’t move, but something flickers in his eyes. you don’t wait for him to respond. you turn away for good this time and walk out, leaving the backyard behind.

before you know it, you’re at rafe’s house, your knuckles rapping against the door almost frantically. you pace, glancing down at your phone, watching as the notifications keep coming—texts from john b, a few from kie, and even jj. they're all asking the same thing: ‘ where are you? ’ or ‘ are you okay? ’

you drag your hand down your face, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. before you can get lost in your thoughts, the door swings open, and there he is.

rafe stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable. he leans against the doorframe for a second, his lips slightly parted, taking you in. you know he’s already pieced together what’s happened from the voice messages you left on the way over. not that he’s the type to acknowledge it with some grand gesture or comforting words.

he doesn’t say anything, but he steps aside without much ceremony. you slip past him and leave your phone in the foyer, tossing it carelessly on the side table as you pass, the pinging of messages finally fading into the background.

you make your way down the hallway, not even sure where you’re going, but your feet carry you to the living room. rafe follows close behind, his presence looming, but not overbearing. his eyes are trained on you, watching as you take in the dimly lit room. there’s a bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table, a glass next to it, already finished. it’s so rafe—quiet, controlled chaos.

you stop, your breath shaky, your chest tight, and before you can hold it back, everything comes spilling out.

“he doesn’t get it, rafe. he just doesn’t fucking get anything,” you start, your voice louder than you intend. you turn to face him, your hands gesturing wildly as you try to make sense of the mess of emotions coursing through you. “i mean, he’s been gone for years, and he comes back, and suddenly he thinks he can just . . . control everything? like he gets to have an opinion about my life after everything he’s done. he doesn't even know me anymore.”

rafes eyes are fixed on you, and he’s listening, letting you get it out. his jaw twitches slightly, but he stays silent, just watching as you unravel in front of him.

“and it’s like . . . it’s like no matter what i do, no matter how hard i try, it’s never enough! not for him, not for john b, not for anyone!” your voice cracks, and you press your palms against your temples, trying to hold yourself together, but the tears are already brimming, threatening to spill over. “i didn’t ask for any of this. i didn’t ask to be stuck in the middle of all this shit with my family and you and . . . god, it’s too much.”

you turn away from him, your breath coming out in shallow gasps now as you try to steady yourself. but it’s no use. you’re falling apart, and it feels like the weight of everything is finally crushing you.

before you can say another word, rafe steps forward, his arms sliding around you in one swift motion. “alright, alright, c’mere,” he murmurs, his voice soft but firm. “c’mon.”

you collapse into him, burying your face into his chest, the tears coming freely now. he holds you tight, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head as his hand rubs slow circles on your back.

rafe’s not one for words, and you don’t expect him to be, but this—this is enough. the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his arms keep you grounded, it’s enough to make the world stop spinning for just a moment.

you don’t say anything else. neither does he. the silence stretches on, but it’s not uncomfortable. for once, you feel like you can breathe.

even though he’s holding you, his mind seems elsewhere—his jaw clenched, muscles rigid beneath the surface. it’s not hard to guess where his thoughts have drifted, especially after everything you told him in those voice messages.

you can tell he’s upset. not just because you’re upset, but because of what your dad said—about him, about his family. his body is stiff as he holds you, and you know him well enough to see the silent anger simmering just beneath the surface. his eyes aren’t on you; they’re somewhere distant, staring past you as if he’s imagining your father’s words in his head.

“i’m sorry about what he said, rafe,” you whisper into his chest, feeling the way his breathing shifts, more shallow now, controlled. “he said something about sarah and john b, too.”

he doesn’t respond right away, but you feel his hand pause against your back, fingers pressing a little harder. for a moment, it feels like he might pull away, but instead, he just tightens his grip on you. his silence speaks volumes. rafe is the type to internalize everything, to let it fester until it boils over, but you can feel it now—the tension thrumming through his entire body.

“doesn’t matter,” he finally mutters, though you can tell by the way his voice is low, that it does. “it’s nothing i haven’t heard before.”

you pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him, and his eyes flick down to meet yours. they’re darker than usual, clouded with frustration, but he still tries to soften his expression for you.

“he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” you say quietly. “he doesn’t know you.”

for a moment, neither of you speaks. rafe’s hand resumes its slow, steady motion against your back, though the tension hasn’t fully left his body. you can feel the war going on inside him—the part of him that’s angry, defensive, but also the part that’s trying to be here for you, to let go of his own frustration long enough to comfort you.

“fuck him,” rafe mutters after a long silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “he doesn’t get to talk about you like that. or me.”

there’s a dangerous edge to his voice now, but you know it’s not directed at you. he’s angry, not just at your dad, but at the situation—the impossible mess you’ve both found yourselves in, caught between your family and his.

“i don’t care what he thinks,” you murmur, holding onto him tighter. “i’m here with you. that’s all that matters.”

he doesn’t respond, but his hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers curling gently into your hair as he exhales, long and slow, like he’s finally letting go of whatever was eating at him.

for the first time tonight, the room feels quiet as the two of you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms.

you’re gazing up into his eyes, searching for something—comfort, understanding, maybe a little reassurance. your hands find their way up his shoulders, one resting gently on his collarbone while the other slides higher, rubbing the area around his ear and jaw.

“you know that i love you,” you murmur, your voice soft but steady, as if the confession can dissolve the tension still hanging in the air.

rafe stares down at you, and in that moment, you can see everything in his eyes. he’s never loved anyone more than he loves you—the way you stood your ground against your own dad tonight, defending yourself and defending him and his family. it’s a vulnerable space, one he doesn’t often let himself occupy, but with you, it feels different.

he nods, pressing his lips together as if trying to hold back a flood of emotion. then, with a sudden urgency, he leans down and kisses you deeply. the taste of whiskey lingers on his lips. it’s a kiss that speaks of everything unspoken.

but just as quickly as it begins, he pulls away and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. you close your eyes into the gesture, feeling the warmth of his lips linger against your skin.

rafe goes back to resting his chin on your head, his breath steady as he holds you close again. you breathe in his familiar scent, a mix of sea salt and something distinctly rafe, and let the silence wrap around you like a comforting blanket.

in this moment, nothing else matters. not the fights, not your dad’s harsh words, not the stupid tangled web of family and expectations.

just you and him, together, holding onto each other for as long as you can.

[nereidprinc3ss]

kiss it better

in which spencer notices your bruised knees and tries to make it up to you

18+ (fluff, allusions to past intimacy) warnings/tags: gn!reader i believe, reader has bruised knees lol, guess why, implied intimacy, hurt/comfort, sorta implied d/s dynamics maybe?? spencer is so smart and not very smart, but forever my no. 1 cutie pie a/n: why do i love writing about smut like before and after smut way more than i actually like writing smut LOL anyways here is this cause i haven't been posting very much!!! (also ik I said I don't like babe as a pet name but shhh) and GIF :D

“Hey,” you grunt as you flop on the bed in your pajamas, rumpling the neat covers. “Pay attention to me.”

Spencer holds his Sudoku off to the side and watches, eyebrows raised, as you scoot closer, tossing your leg over him. Soon he’s abandoning the book and pen on the bedside table in favor of hooking his fingers under your knee and stroking your leg, much to your delight. 

“Okay. What kind of attention would you like?”

You allow him to put his other arm around you and settle your cheek on his shoulder. 

“This is pretty good.”

“Oh, good,” he says with only a hint of teasing, leaning down slightly to kiss your lips and then the tip of your nose. 

When he pulls away you can’t help smiling up at him like a lovestruck idiot. Obviously he’s perfect all the time, but in his glasses, with his hair messy, wearing a navy crewneck instead of a button up and tie… he’s just… he’s just so…

He’s just so alarmed?

“Honey, your knee.”

“My knee?” Your own brows furrow and you track his eye line, craning your neck to look down to the blotchy sprawl of purple and red marring your skin. “Oh.”

The pillow is soft under your head where it falls, unconcerned even as Spencer gawps at you, baffled by your nonchalance. 

“What did you do?”

You snort. 

“What did you do, Spencer?”

It’s cute, the way his lips move as he silently repeats the sentence, trying to discern the meaning of your words. 

“What do you mean? I did something?”

“Babe.”

The knot between his brows has not loosened any—in fact you’re worried he’s going to give himself a headache. Or at least make himself dizzy, with the way his eyes cycle between your own. You try again, covering his anxious hand on the bend of your leg with your own. 

“When we got back from Penelope’s thing, the other night?”

Slowly the understanding seeps into his expression—soft guilt in his eyes, and a deep red stain in his cheeks. At least his face relaxes. 

“Oh.”

God, he’s so cute. He can’t hold eye contact, looking down once the shock of embarrassment has faded and swallowing, a little frown twisting his features once more. You reach up, brushing his cheek with a thumb and adjusting his glasses. 

“What’s wrong?”

The question comes out too smiley, but you can’t help it. 

“I hurt you,” he says, quietly, utterly ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I kinda think you did,” you tease, and Spencer says your name with a serious edge. You try to quit grinning so much. “Baby, it’s fine. You didn’t hurt me. Don’t you ever get mysterious bruises?”

His eyes are wide and honest on yours when he meets them again. 

“No. My iron levels are optimal.”

Naturally. 

“Okay, well, lots of people do. Sometimes I get a bruise and I have no idea what it’s from because it never hurt. These,” you look down, gesturing to your knee, “never hurt. It’s just what happens when your knees hit the floor.”

“Well you shouldn’t have been on the floor,” he scolds, countering with a sweet touch on your cheek. “I’m never letting you touch the floor ever again.”

Your shit-eating grin is back and better than ever. “Oh, so you’re going to carry me everywhere we go?”

“If that’s what it takes. I don’t like seeing you bruised up.”

“It’s okay. I bruised myself doing something I love.”

At this Spencer rolls his eyes and kisses you once more before gently pushing your leg away and getting out of bed. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, all smugness gone and more concerned than you ought to be as he flicks the bathroom light on. For a moment you receive no answer, but then he reappears bearing a white tube. 

“Give me your legs,” he says, sitting next to you on the bed. You swing your legs over his lap and watch on in mild interest as he dispenses lotion from the bottle and tosses it aside, carefully rubbing it into the bruised skin. Every few seconds he glances up to gauge your reaction, and though it’s definitely tender, you avoid wincing. “You don’t have to do that. I can tell it hurts.”

You laugh. 

“Yeah, well, it didn’t until you started trying to fix it.” The ointment is pungent and you make a face. “What are you rubbing all over me?”

“This is vitamin K and Arnica. It will make the bruises go away faster.”

“Aw. You don’t think they’re pretty on me?”

He sets the bottle on the nightstand and retrieves the pen he’d been doing Sudoku with earlier, uncapping it. Your heart swells as he draws tiny sad faces by the bruises on your knees, glasses slipping down his nose as he focuses intently. 

“I always think you’re pretty. I just never want you to be hurt, ever.”

“Are you done taking care of me now?” You ask, reaching out for him. The pen joins the bottle and suddenly he has no concern for your bodily health, practically crushing you with a hug. When he speaks it’s muffled by your shoulder. 

“Never.”

You hum, nose tickled in his hair and forming a dastardly plan. 

“You could kiss them better.”

Spencer laughs and presses his lips briefly to your neck. 

“I might just do that.”

[tonycries]

Brooklyn Baby - G.S.

Synopsis. Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rock star! AU, fwb-to-lovers, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), Suguru is sinfully sexy and in l*ve with you, Satoru is a menace, pet names (darling, my girl), Suguru has tattoos and piercings, swearing.

Word count. 3.2k (DAMN I got carried away)

A/N. Happy Valentine’s day! *throws somewhat-fluffy smut at you and leaves* 

Art by @_3aem on X.

Also, wild west! AU longfic with someone dropping on Sunday night (EST), keep your eyes peeled yeehaw.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.

You did. Your fans did. Hell, you’ve even caught your overworked band manager sneaking a few too many glances. 

And, you conclude, the groupies currently batting their lashes at him definitely did. 

You watch as they swarm to him during open rehearsal, giggling at his pretty smiles. 

Whatever, part of the job anyway.

It’s not like you two were dating. Yeah, a few fucks here and there throughout the years - but what’s one to do when on the road and in such close proximity with a guy that’s practically walking sex? 

Trying not to scowl, you turn away from the commotion, continuing to tune the strings of your trusty Fender. You’ve had your fair share of die-hard fans, so lately why did it bother you so much when Suguru entertained their thinly-veiled advances? 

“Ohoho~ Quite a look on your face there, why don’t you go and caress his biceps too?~” you hear idiot brigade member #1, Gojo Satoru, cackle from beside you. 

If looks could kill, Satoru would’ve been 6 feet under and rotting already. “I thought you stopped writing band fanfiction, Satoru.” you raise a brow. 

“THAT WAS ONE TIME.” he whines dramatically, clinging onto you and shaking you back and forth as if to knock the memory of his Wattpad tendencies out of you. “WHY ATTACK ME JUST CUZ YOU’RE JEALOUS? C’MOOON ADMIT IT.”

You were not jealous. 

Suguru knew you were jealous.

Sneaking a glance, he had to fight the urge to coo at the adorable little furrow of your brows. How unprofessional would it be if he walked off mid-conversation to kiss that pout off your lips?

He knows it’s just sex for you. But - foolishly - every time he held you he could only hope that he ran through your mind as often as you did through his. It elated Suguru to know you were getting that worked up over him. 

That is until, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Satoru draping himself all over you, whispering god-knows-what into your ears. 

The rational part of Suguru knows Satoru is a very touchy person, but why was he so…close? And why weren’t you pushing him off?

Smile tightening into something a little more artificial, he turns to the girls fawning over him. “Well, ladies, I’m sorry to say I’ve gotta go practice before Shoko yells at me again. I’ll see you all in the front row, yeah?” he lies smoothly, disappointed whines following him as he makes a beeline for your figure.

“Well! What have we here, Satoru, are you done tuning?” Suguru pops a head between yours and Satoru’s overly close ones, interrupting whatever conversation you were heatedly whispering. What was so important that you two needed to be that close to talk anyway?

He narrows his eyes at Satoru’s surprised ones, an invisible conversation taking place between them before Satoru cracks a smug grin. “Alright alright. I’ll go tune my guitar.” he rolls his eyes, heading for his electric blue Gibson. 

Your confused gaze meets the twinkling eyes now boring down at you. “Done with the meet-n-greet already?” you question, eyes darting to the group now watching you two like hawks.

The smile on Suguru’s face grows, “Yeah, remembered I didn’t do my pre-concert rituals right.”

“Oh?”

“Wanna help me with it?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. Quickly setting down your guitar, he drags you out into the corridor - hand tightly in yours and pointedly ignoring Satoru’s wolf-whistles. 

Hallway sex is overrated, Suguru believes - which is why he heads for the dressing room. 

“Pre-concert rituals” his ass, Suguru just thinks he might pass away if he doesn’t get his hands on you right now. Make you feel like his.

It’s not long before the door is locked and he has you bent over the vanity, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. 

“S-Sugu! Why now? The concert- Hah-” You gasp in pleasure as two long fingers probe inside of you, ruthlessly searching for the spot that Suguru knows would have your toes curling and eyes watering deliciously. 

“Fuck the concert, darling. Barely even started and already so wet f’me.” he drawls out over your whimpers. “Wanted you to come over y’know? And save me from those groupies trying to get in my pants.” 

In your lust-hazed mind, you find the words to respond to him, “You s-seemed to - hah - be enjoying that.”

“Of course not.” he leaves a trail of kisses down your back, “Wasn’t my favorite girl.” he whispers into your heated skin.

He’s being rougher than usual, he knows. In the back of his mind he wonders what it was that he was so pissed at. But all thoughts of that are thrown out the window once he presses into that plushy spot inside your wet core, drawing a sinful whine from your mouth. There.

Pulling back to tease your folds with your own slick, he plunges into your swollen pussy once more, easily hitting that spot over and over. 

“Hngh- Suguru, more!” you grind your hips to meet his merciless rhythm, clenching around his fingers. 

You feel as if you’re losing your sanity when he adds in another finger, walls burning as your cunt stretches around his thick rings. 

Suguru was definitely losing his sanity. 

Anyone could walk by. The concert was about to start any second now. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck, too focused on how his fingers were being sucked back in every time he pulls out, your pretty pussy dripping all over his numerous bracelets.

He has to hold back a moan at the way your ass jiggled every time your hips buck to meet his fingers. 

Leaning down over you, he hums lowly into your ear “So desperate for me, hm?”. Pressing the erection straining against his trousers against you, he huffs out “I’m the same, darling. You drive me absolutely mad.”

He feels the way you squirm in impatience at the large outline of his dick, raising your ass in an attempt to get more friction. Eyes crinkling in satisfaction, he pushes down on his girl’s slutty hips, cold rings digging into the small of your waist. 

“Now now…not yet.” he tuts mockingly. 

“Please, Suguru. Please let me cum.”

Increasing his pace, abusing your g-spot relentlessly, Suguru knew by your breathy moans of his name that you were getting close. 

His hand moves from your waist, leaving behind purple marks to remember him by. They wander the expanse of your body - groping your curves, and pinching your nipples through your thin top - delighting in your mewls.

God, you were perfect. He really needed to take his time with you later.

Suguru’s hands, nail polish chipped and fingers calloused from years of playing, finally rest on your face. He pushes your cheeks together, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth and forcing you to look at him through the vanity mirror in front of you. Your dazed eyes meet his darkened ones. 

Suguru was so feral. The man that was usually the personification of grace and poise was falling apart at the seams. His eyes wild and grin spread devilishly as his fingers abuse your cunt never-endingly.

“Look at me when you cum.” he murmurs raspily into your neck, teeth ghosting over your rapid pulse.

You don’t know what it is that sends you over the edge - maybe it was his lustful words, or the way his fingers quirked just right inside of you. All you know is you’re cumming all over Suguru’s fingers, hands clutching the vanity table and eyes locked with Suguru’s in the mirror, mouth dropping into a gasp.

“Fuck! Suguru- Suguru!” you whimper.

Suguru watches in wonder as you ride out your orgasm, using him. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Let them see how beautifully you fall apart because of him.

Finally pulling out, Suguru inspects his fingers. “Now now. That won’t do.” he purrs. 

His tongue erotically licks up your juices covering his rings, still holding eye contact with you through the mirror. He catches the way your thighs press together at his lewd act. ‘Oh? Want some?“ he teases. 

Before you can retort, he’s bullying his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. 

The way you moan around him sends blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, he has to steel himself from cumming in his pants right then and there - that wouldn’t be very “sex icon” of him. 

You have no idea what you do to him.

Not willing to wait any longer, he leisurely takes a seat on the spacious vanity sofa. You whine at the loss of contact before catching the predatory look in his eyes. Suguru was going to eat you alive. 

“Come on, darling. Show me how badly you want me.” he grins, legs spreading and prominent bulge on display. 

You take a second to admire the view. Tousled black hair falling enticingly along Suguru’s muscled shoulders, tattooed dragon peeking through where his shirt was messed up. His eyes lustful, and locked on you. 

He was devastatingly handsome. Your mouth waters at the chance to get what so many people would kill for.

Suguru chuckles as you struggle to unbuckle his belt - did rock stars have to always wear such complicated trousers? 

Finally, you pull them down along with his boxers to expose his creamy thighs. Suguru’s throbbing erection lays on his abs, flushed a delicate pale pink.

Your pussy quivers with excitement as you press wet kisses to Suguru’s leaking head, precum dripping down his length to where you’d gently grasped him. A strangled hiss leaves his mouth as you swirl your tongue around the slit. You find yourself lost in his heady taste - he tastes so good.

“Having fun, darling? C’mon now, use me the way you want.” he murmurs, need laced into his voice.

You’ve never gotten used to how big Suguru is. Soft groans leave his mouth as you flatten your tongue and take him in inch by inch, eyes locked with his blown-out ones.

Suguru’s back arches as the heat of your mouth envelops him, hands bunching your hair into a messy ponytail. His pornographic groans echo across the dressing room as you suck on his cock, tongue swirling in just the way you knew he liked.

He can’t even catch his breath with the way you bob your head so heavenly, sucking the soul out of him. It drives him wild to think about how he’s got his lead guitarist on her knees, choking on his cock as your fans wait outside. 

Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you pop off his cock to take his heavy balls into your mouth, moaning around them as you suck on both erotically.

Shit, he was really feeling it today. 

Through the bangs now sticking to his forehead, he makes out the way your thighs grind against each other for relief. 

You were, too.

If this keeps up he really will lose his sanity.

“As much as I’d love to paint your pretty face with my cum, I think we both prefer it inside, no?” he grits out, cock twitching at the strings of spit and precum connecting you to him as he pulls you off. 

“Need you inside me so badly.” you nod, brain foggy and filled with only Suguru.

He’s quick to lift you into his lap, resting your ass against his pulsing cock, sly grin spreading at the way you’re already so fucked out. 

Suguru feels like he could cum just from the sensation of your juices smearing all over his length, pussy dripping and aching for his throbbing cock. 

“Oh yeah? How bad?” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already knowing the answer.

“Please. I want you to fuck me so badly, Suguru.” 

“Badly enough that you’d fuck me out there - where everyone is? Show ‘em who I belong to?”

“Yes.” 

At your whimper, Suguru thrusts fully inside you, a moan of relief leaving you both as you finally get what you’ve been craving for. 

“Shit, so tight. Always so good for me, darling.”

Once you start, it’s hard to stop, Suguru finds. 

It happened when he first fucked you in high school - in his car after your first show, running on adrenaline and teenage hormones. And, years later, it’s happening now as he sheathes himself in your wet cunt. 

He just can’t get enough.

He fucks you animalistically, cock ramming in and out of your hole in a way that makes it feel like you’re missing something without him. Nothing in the world other than your two connected bodies. He feels you clamping down on him deliciously, ego growing at you struggling to accommodate his size. 

“F-fuck, darling. Hah- It’s s’tight. Take it like my good girl.”

“Hngh- Suguru, faster!” you groan, fingers delicately playing with the nipple piercings peeking out of his barely-buttoned shirt, euphoric at his drawn-out moans. 

Unlike Satoru - who takes off his shirt every chance he gets onstage - Suguru was one to shy away from showing skin, slutty piercings and tattoos hidden to the world. It just makes it all the more satisfying as you lick a long stripe along the dragon on his shoulder. 

Feels like your little secret. You wanted to be the only one to see this ethereal sight.

“Ah- So good, darling.” Suguru leans back, allowing you more room to play with him as you please. Cock twitching - so close - as you bore into his eyes, sucking his flashy piercings. 

He ramps up his pace, bouncing you on his cock in a way that was carnal. It was so feral, the way his balls sting as they smack your ass, a ring of spit and precum forming around his base. 

His cock aches for release, but he wants to see you cum first. His pretty girl, cumming all over his throbbing cock.

You pull yourself off his swollen nipples and attach your mouth with his, tongues swirling sensually as he kisses you like he needed you to breathe. 

He’s almost as unforgiving with his mouth as he is with his cock. Almost.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“YOOO I don’t know if ‘pre-concert rituals’ was a code-word for something else but we’re on in twenty minutes.” the unmistakable voice of Suguru’s best friend - and occasional bane-of-his-existence - made you two jump apart. 

“The ultimate cockblock.” Suguru sighs out - his pace, however, does not slow down. Each harsh thrust makes it difficult to muffle your yelps of pleasure from Satoru, who was still calling for you two from outside.

Noticing your predicament, Suguru grins dangerously. “Oh? My poor girl finds it hard to stop her moans? Aww, better try harder unless you want dear Satoru finding out.” he mocks in your ear. 

Both humiliated and turned on by his words, your dripping pussy clenches around his cock. He lets out a choked-up groan, biting hard into the crook of your neck to stop it.

A satisfied smile spreads across your face, “Who should try harder now, Suguru?”

Ah, perfect. You were perfect, perfect for him.

As Satoru’s yells about “cutting a chunk out of Suguru’s pay” disappear across the hallway, both of you let out exhales of relief.

“Dangerous game you played there, mister.” you raise a brow, teasingly.

He chuckles out, before pulling you to him closer by the waist. Lips ghosting over your own, he whispers “Only with you, my darling.” 

Slightly more clear-headed but still dripping with lust, you meet the bounce of Suguru’s hips with your own. Eyes still locked with yours, he stuffs you with every inch - tip kissing your cervix so painfully good. 

The steady slapping of skin and synchronized moans fill the room, blocking out the cheering of the audience awaiting your band. 

Yet, the air crackled with something different this time. For the first time, it didn’t just feel like just mindless fucking.

Bite mark on your neck stinging, you could feel Sugurus heartbeat thundering under your touch - synchronized with your own.

In this moment it felt like just you two in this world. 

You wanted to be the only one in his world. Not his fangirls, not some manager, not anyone else. 

Maybe that was the reason for your courage, feeling like everything has finally come to a boiling point. 

“S-Suguru.” you breathe out as you feel yourself getting closer. 

“Mhm?” brows furrowed, he looks up at you with a tenderness in his eyes that does not translate to the merciless cadence of his hips. 

“Be mine.”

And that’s all Suguru ever wanted. 

With a final hard thrust of his cock, he pulls you into a searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. He cums in hot spurts, thick ropes of seed filling your quivering cunt. It was feral - and it made you feel like his. 

Suguru’s seed drips down the side of his length, forming a white ring at his base as he fucks it deeper into you, letting you ride out your highs together.

As your climaxes bate, he buries his face in your neck, kissing softly over the mark from before. “To be yours is everything I could ever want, darling.” he breathes out, hugging you closer as if to hide this vulnerable moment. But you feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin.

Embracing him, you gather his beautiful black locks in your hand, fingers deftly taking the hair tie around your wrist to tie his long hair into a messy ponytail. 

Pulling back, you admire Suguru’s angelic features. Face flushed, lips swollen, and dark eyes half-lidded as he stares up at you in surprise.

“Wanted to see your pretty face.” you huff out a low laugh.

The expression on Suguru’s face is indescribable, such pure adoration in his eyes. 

Voice low, he murmurs words meant only for you, “I…I’m in lov-” 

“HEYYY I’m serious, stop doing the devil’s tango and GET THE FUCK OUT.” Satoru’s voice bellows once again through the door, shattering the little bubble you and Suguru had found refuge in.

“Ah- um-”

“You-”

Both of you stammer out at once, chuckling at how shy you were acting with one another even after all that had transpired in this room.

“We should probably go, before Satoru and Shoko pop a blood vessel.” Suguru jokes. You laugh out in agreement as he carries you tenderly to the washroom, his interrupted words weighing heavily on both your minds. It’s okay, you have time. 

Rapidly cleaned up and dressed, Suguru stops, a hand on the dressing room doorknob. “”Hey..” he starts almost-hesitantly, “After the concert, would you maybe want to-”

“Yes.” you interrupt, excitement lacing your voice. 

Chuckling in pure euphoria as you both exit, your smiles turn more sheepish as you’re faced with a bored-looking Shoko and an impatient Satoru tapping his foot. “You horny lil’ fuckers almost missed the show, think of my poor fans~” he exclaims, though the glee in his eyes at your intertwined hands was very evident.

“Hope the sex was good at least.” Shoko drones out, eyes flitting over your guilty flushed faces. 

‘Oh yeah, and Suguru - next time you dump your fangirls on me, I chop your balls off.“ she chirps out, pointing her drumsticks threateningly at his neck as you all head back.

Blinding lights. 

Deafening screams.

Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, he was fatally beautiful onstage.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. 

But he only wanted to fuck you.

A/N. MMMMM long-haired men.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[rgbfall]

I was gonna just infodump in the tags, but fuck it this topic is super interesting and im literally writing an essay on it, so I'm gonna yell about this topic for a bit

So, fun little fact, autistic people are actualy 8(.1) times more likely to identify as ace than NTs are! which is a lot! it's the most common sexuality for autistic people. The closest category after this is "other", which is anything other than ace, bi, straight or gay lumped together into one group, and that's about 7.6 times more likely, and only not even twice as likely to be bi (on average) (1)

Then the other way round, as over half of asexual people are neurodivergent (2), and around 37% of aro people are neurodivergent (3)

So yeah, autistic people are wayy more likely to be aspec and vice versa. And sure, not every autistic person is aspec or every aspec person autistic, but it's pretty likely if someone is one they are also the other!

gonna add a lil more under a cut about why i think the reasoning this is, but for now sources:

&lt;(1) orientation in autistic people> <(2) 2019 ace community survey> <(3) 2020 aro survey>

So why do I think this is? Well first ima give a lil more info about the essay I'm writing, which discusses explanations for why there's such a massive intersection between neurodivergent people and LGBTQ+ people. Before starting my essay, I did a lil survey (only 11 ppl really it was more to get some ideas for why queer neurodivergent people thought there is a link between the two things.

As part of that survey, I asked if people, regardless or orientation, felt as though neurodivergence affected how they experience any attraction, including stuff like platonic. 5 people said yes, 2 were unsure and 4 said no. Reasons given for this included:

"maybe difference in social skills means I often use more romantic language and actions ("I love you,", calling people pet names like babe, being outwardly affectionate) with close friends effects the way my platonic love is shown, but I don't know if it effects the emotions"

"I find relationships harder to build and find intimate relationships, platonic and romantic, more rewarding."

"Yes ... because I never text my friends back and I can’t be bothered to date anyone because it sounds like so much work and idk how other people just causally get a s.o. Like bro aren’t you stressed out and also bored?? I’d rather just avoid it forever""

*these are all a mix of neurodivergent people, so isn't exclusively an autistic experience

Generally it's stuff to do with struggling to form and maintain relationships, which makes sense bc autistic (and other neurodivegent) ppl tend to have a harder time with communication!

And since some forms of being aspec are actually genuinely bc people are just not interested in relationships, it could be to do with that! autistic ppl have a hard time forming relationships and attachments, and so might not bother or instead decide to label this difficulty!

Also, I know you said general aphobic and ableist arguments tend to say autistic/aspec ppl are emotionless, but that is genuinely my (autistic and aroace) experience with attraction. I am literally loveless, so like. lmao yeah sure being autistic literally DOES make me emotionless, so what? Doesn't make me less aspec, and the fact that I'm aspec and autistic and therefore don't love doesn't make me inherently worse than other people? It doesn't make me a bad person?

I do get that headcanoning autistic characters as aro/ace and aro/ace characters as autistic can create a false perception that they’re inherent to each other, but literally everyone I’ve heard making this argument is either being really aphobic or really ableist about it.

They say that saying an autist is aspec means it proves the idea that autists are incapable of emotion, or that saying an aspec is autistic proves aspecs are just weird and mentally ill.

It’s really funny how aspecs and autists share a lot of the same problems. We don’t feel quite the same way as others, we express our love differently, people think we’re gross and unhuman. We’re not. We should be teaming up to face bigots together, not doing their job for them by turning on each other.

Also most aspecs i’ve met are autistic and most autists i’ve met identify as aro or ace so it’s not like the link doesn’t exist lol.