#cold simpin

[snowysand]

You ever see someone so hot that it makes you sad?

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

I want to be hugged by him like that bass

[marchsfreakshow]

Gods And Monsters [Michael De Santa]

Smut; You're visiting Michael after his wife and kids move out. You're drunk though, and you want to kiss him. He wont let you do it drunk.

I truly am just, simpin for this middle aged man I swear, so, here's another fic for him.

Fem!Reader

Cover made by me

18+!! MINORS DNI. READ MY SFW WORKS

Warnings: alcohol references, Jimmy being Jimmy /j unbearble tension, PnV, teasing, praise, light choking. Crud smut writing.

Your perspective

Music blasted around me as I sat in the corner staring at my lonely phone. The iFruit was small in my hand, as the other hand held a cup of something. It was alcohol, that's all I needed. But, I was waiting for something on this phone. It was important.

Then it rang.

My desperation for a phone call made me answer it and scream "Hold on It's loud." As I ran outside, I heard Jimmy on the other end. "Jimmy. Dude. What?"

"Sorry if you're busy man, I'm just letting you know that I moved out of my dad's place with my mom and Tracey."

"Her choice or his?"

"uhhh, hers. I kinda did something."

In my tipsy stupor, I just giggled and stumbled as I carried on down the street. Not sure which way I was going, unfortunately, as I kept listening to Jimmy tell the tale of Michael going across a line. "Sooo, he's alone?"

"It's 1 am. Don't be weird." He sighed. "Listen, just come by soon okay dude? I have some games I want to show you."

"Fineee. Byeee!" The walk went quickly despite my tipsy state.

Michael's 'mansion' engaged my vision soon enough. A mansion? It looks like a normal richy house. Not like I know what that looks like. But I knocked on the door, multiple times, and loudly. "Michaelll!! I heard your wife moved out. I'm here to talk!"

Grumbles entered my ears and the glassy doors opened. "Y/N. It is...1 fucking am. What the fuck?" I giggled at the sight of him. He was in his boxers, some socks, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes to see me properly. Cute old man. "Just, just come in.." He muttered as I walked in and closed the door behind me. The interior was still warm, beige...but warm and cosy for certain. I slouched onto the couch, throwing the blanket over me.

"Jimmy called me. Told me he, Amanda and Tracey moved out."

"he fucking told you?!"

I simply nodded.

"idiot." He kept on mumbling and then sat next to me. Still in his boxers. It was, charming to me. Being so comfortable with me he happily walked around half naked. The man looked in my direction when he stopped himself, sighing at me. "Do you need something?"

"Therapy."

"This whole fucking city does."

I giggled and sat up, looking over at him. "Michael?" He fixated on my eyes and looked like he was stopping himself from touching me. His hand lingered by the side of my face. But he pulled himself away and walked into the kitchen.

Disappointed, I followed him and threw my arms onto the tabletop. It was decently dark and cold. I wasn't sure why it was cold when I walked through a doorway, but it was. "Here. Drink it." I stared at the green, sludge-like drink in front of me. He almost stared me down as I made a face. I couldn't tell anything else about the drink that was placed by me, apart from the fact it was green. I knew it was. Amanda loved health and yoga and all that bullshit.

"Y/N. Drink."

"whyyy?" I asked innocently, grinning at him.

"You're at my door at 1 am. And you smell like whiskey. I can tell."

"is that so bad?"

"I can also tell what you want." His fingers gripped onto my chin, almost pulling me up to his eye level. His other hand held my waist since there was nowhere else to hold and not be weird. "But you know I'm not doing anything. Not while you're in this state anyway."

I felt so weak when he held me, even if it was a way to get me to drink something...His eyes held me captive. Again, I couldn't find anywhere else to look. There was just something there. We must have stayed like that for a while, one of my hands wrapped around his waist, and the other resting on the island in the kitchen. Our eye contact was intense, and my hesitation to drink the sludge disappeared when Michael let go of me.

Once I was let go, I looked at the drink, before screwing my eyes shut and gluping down the grainy drink. The texture was awful, and the taste was worse. But I got it down anyway. "Bleh.." I muttered, shaking my head quickly once I had downed the green drink.

"Good girl."

"What?"

"Good. Girl." He enunciated. 

My back against some type of wall, pillar whatever. His hands held me close. My arms around his shoulders for support. My powerless body sank below his. Who was going to break this tension and kiss who? I wanted to kiss him, make him know love. Show him love like none other. My eyes never looked away from his. They were locked, and staring at him. I almost felt like I was going to fall to my knees. "Sober yet angel?"

"I might just be..." We whispered to each other.

Hands suddenly moved, gripping hair, holding faces, unable to find another place to rest as we kissed. If Amanda walked in, I'd be pleased. I was kissing his neck, nibbling and licking at little spots so people could ask who they were from. "Couch, now.." Michael breathlessly mentioned, holding my face. Like a moth to a flame, I obeyed. I laid down before he picked me up, and sat me on his lap. We caught our breaths before my shirt was tugged off, and my trousers came off uncomfortably, but we were both there, kissing gentle spots on each other's bodies.

A flame doesn't usually grind and jerk up at the moth's movements and grips, but I could feel his hard-on and took advantage of the way it was hidden by his boxers. We kept going and Michael wriggled a bit, panting like a dog. His eyes flickered between mine and his bulge, he was deciding where to put his cock first. "Baby... fuck." The man moaned, resting his head on my shoulder. I took the opportunity and slipped his dick out of the boxers. His fingers held the small of my back, breathing heavily. A smooth hand movement started. I moved my hand up and down while the man I was jerking off couldn't even look at me.

Time passed. I had gone from just touching him with my hand, to making sure every inch of his dick had pre-cum and saliva over it. I glanced up at Michael. His head thrown back onto the couch, and still panting like a desperate dog. Seemed he had to edge himself from me touching his cock. The way he looked turned me on more, and he only slightly looked down when he realised I had stopped. "You're so cute, Mikey."

"Shut up..."

A grin made its way onto my face, and I eventually climbed back up onto his lap. "Mm, you're so cute. Whining and panting and moaning. All from me touching and sucking your cock."

"Feelin'...cocky huh?"

"What if I was?"

By this point, we were both breathing heavily. I was grinding on him again, close to fucking him and making him lose his mind. "I'm gonna make you lose your fuckin mind darlin'. "

He held me tight, and almost threw me onto the other side of the couch. My mind was blown at his sudden dominance, I couldn't say anything but stare wide-eyed at the man on top of me. His hand was lightly around my throat, my arms by my side. Anyone would call this cock-teasing because of how badly we both needed this. "Please, Michael. Please." Michael raised an eyebrow and smiled. He found me and had me in his little net for him to play with and stare at.

While I did feel like I was losing my mind, the waiting was unbearable. The cock tease. My doe-eyed stare turned into a dark, attempted seducing look. All Michael needed was a look, and he was fucking me. No holding back.

Fast.

Hard.

What I wanted. But, for a 50-something, I was so surprised in between my moans of how much stamina he had. Michael's promise rang true quickly. I felt brainless. My eyes were at the back of my head, hands gripping hard at the sofa, about to rip the corner of it. My moans, practically scream. "So... much, for cocky hm?" The man on top of me breathed. All I could muster was a nod as he slowed down a bit.

"Is my angel okay?"

"fuck..fuck yes, please.." I was brainless and breathless. Any confidence I had, shot out of me in a second. A chuckle escaped him, and we were back into it. He held every part of me that he was able to. I moaned his name, he occasionally moaned mine. I felt like I was going to come right there and then.

Michael turned me over, grabbed me again and made me stand up for a second before I was on top of him. Eyes stared me down as I rode him. His cock almost hit my cervix every time he thrusted up and I went down.

Slowing down.

Bruises left on my waist.

Panting.

Michael was close, and on my own, I felt like I had cummed more than twice. This man was intoxicating. His hands holding me, his look, the darkness of the sitting room adding to the ambience. "shit, Baby," I knew what he wanted.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. My face was in his neck, and I slammed myself down over and over. I rode him like I had never done it before. This time, I was drunk on his moans and whines. He whined like a sick puppy. He needed every part of me at the same time. He needed me, I needed him. The moth and flame almost mix together because of how badly they want each other.

How long had Michael been keeping this neediness in?

For too long.

We held each tight before I got off his cock, just as he came over himself. His stomach and chest had translucent cum over it.

Thinking quickly, I grabbed the blanket on the floor and gave it to him. The panting man took the hint and cleaned himself up, looking at me as I sat on the other side of the couch, just as naked as he was. "That was...nice I guess."

"you guess?" I remarked, as I picked up the blanket and cleaned myself wherever I needed to.

"What else am I supposed to say?"

"Thanks for the fuck baby, I really liked it and I don't feel so lonely anymore, wanna sleep here tonight? I'll sleep on the couch." I grinned teasingly. He rolled his eyes, but he smirked and handed me my trousers.

"Well, the first part is true at least," Michael mentioned when I got up. He gently wrapped his arms around my hips, placing a kiss on my cheek. "I will let you sleep here though."

"If I get your bed."

"fuck you."

"you just did." 

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

[hotchfiles]

Hotch in s3 with the unsub in the bakery being like “I’m the only thing standing between you and a bullet” 🥵

NO BECAUSE I WATCHED THIS LAST WEEK AND WAS LITERALLY LIKE THE 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 EMOJI the most unrealistic thing in this show is no one simpin for him like how can you hear his deep serious voice being soooooo smug and not be needing fresh air and cold water frrrr everyone there is stronger than the marines for that

[yeyinde]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMFogoRD8/

Not Price but 👀👀👀👀

Ooooohhhh LOVE THIS!!! Keegan is easily becoming a favourite of mine (as if the abundance of gifs wasn't enough of an indication)!!! 🤩 I love his personality! I'm such a sucker for a quiet man (not cold, or distant, but just. Introverted, introspective).

Kindaaaa simpin' hard right now!

[aceofhearts25]

Relationships Scenarios/Headcanons with the 🕷️ ♥️ Spider-Man(s) 🕷️ ♥️

Rewatching every Spider-Man movie in the theater made me realize again how attracted I am… to basically all of them, (Mostly Tobey) so here you go simps, pick your Peter. 😏 Summary: Scenarios on how they’d act around if you if they liked you, if yall were official, if they were complimented, yada yada, and more stuff like that- Super cute, immersive, and fluffy, (so much fluff ong). Gender neutral you. No smut cuz it makes me kinda uncomfy, and the best fucking vibes. Enjoy. 😘 (Also, they’re all aged up over 18 cuz I ain’t simpin’ for a high schooler.)

Tobey/Peter 2 (I’m in love with him, your honor-)

How he’d act around you/what you guys do (he likes you btw, like a lot… like MJ a lot)

He’s always stuttering a lil whenever he talks to you

He’s really good at reading emotions 💙

He’s always giving you compliments (“You look nice today-!” :])

He’s always staring at you with a dorky smile (cute awkward boi)

He does whatever he can to spend time around you (he plots 👏)

He’s always looking at you whenever you guys hang out

You guys love to go eat cheeseburgers together (“Sky’s the limit!” -Peter)

You guys love pizza while chatting or watching a movie (“Pizza time.” -Peter)

He constantly has a lil blush around you

He likes buying you small but meaningful things (Snacks, accessories, etc.)

He finds it really hard to talk to you sometimes

He most definitely knows how to make you smile

He blushes and looks down if you compliment him

Spider-Man is always seen swinging around near where you are (shhh)

Spider-Man saved you literally so many times (*wink wink*)

Spider-Man likes to talk to you for some reason….

How he’d act as a partner/what you like to do together (he’s so obsessed)

He’s always holding you, touch is definitely his love language <3 (hugs, hand holding, etc.)

He’s always kissing you, lil pecks on top of the head, mouth, cheeks, face, yada yada

He’s clingy but not in like an annoying way (loving bf fr)

He likes to cuddle with you (he’s a strong, adorable big spoon but he switches a lot ♥️)

He cannot stop smiling around you (help him, his face hurts)

You like to track down the big boi villains together (you’re kinda his guy/girl in the chair fr fr)

You like to go to sleep in his buff, dorky arms (so comfy, man)

He’s just so soft and sweet, he can cheer you up all the time.

He’s more a submissive-ish guy, not fully, but yeah- no more of that talk-

Spider-Man (you know it’s him now) is always taking you out for fun swings through the cold breezy nights (MJ style in that one scene)

You’re literally infatuated with him as Peter and him as Spider-Man

Spider-Man is always finding you among crowds, whisking you away and flirting (he’s more ✨ flirty ✨ as Spider-Man)

Spider-Man and you love to hang out in random high and tall places together

You just love Spider-Man, and you just love Peter, both are great 👌

(This mask is so fucking hot, help my mask kink is showing)

Andrew/Peter 3 (You simps can’t get enough of him 😒)

How he’d act around you/what you do together (he likes you like he liked Gwen, but he won’t say it… yet)

He’s always chuckle-y/giggly around you

He’s always hanging out with you and you like to be with him as well (seriously, like, he’s addictive)

He always listens to you (such a good listener fr)

He’s mumble-y and kinda shy around you, but not at the same time, ykwim???!!!

He chuckles and looks away if you compliment him

He’s always cracking jokes to make you laugh (it works fr)

He loves to hang out with you and do the most random yet fun stuff, out of nowhere (and of course you go along with it cuz it’s so fun)

He finds it hard to say how he feels around you (about anything really, you make him nervous in a good way)

You like to eat ice cream together and talk for hours (never gets boring 🍨)

You like to listen to music together <3

You like to go on walks and chat when you have time off

Spider-Man is always giving you a thumbs up or waving at you while swinging by (hehe)

How he’d act as a partner/what you like to do when you’re together

He’s always looking at you longingly (with his big brown doe eyes)

He always wants to spend time with you. He doesn’t care if you both have important things to do (ice cream, hanging out, movies, yada yada)

He’s always joking around with you, making you laugh

He never wants to leave you alone (protective bf fr fr)

He thinks you’re adorable no matter what you do

He likes staring at you… ✨ with rizz ✨

His kisses are really passionate, like a lot, and he really likes kissing you

He’s more of a dominant guy, but he’s a lil submissive- (AIGHT ENOUGH OF THAT TALK FR-)

Spider-Man literally loves swinging with you all the damn time (Gwen style in that one scene)

Spider-Man doesn’t want you near the bad guys

Spider-Man is funny, fun, flirty, and Peter is cute, romantic, and energetic, it’s the perfect mix

(this mask is so much hotter than the second one ong)

Tom/Peter 1 (Why everyone love him sm? Y’all feral fr)

How he’d act around you/what you guys would do (he sucks at hiding it like with Liz/MJ)

He mumbles way too much around you

He’s always around you but gives goofy excuses as to why

He always seems happier around you (like a lot)

He’s always asking you if you wanna do something fun with him (like legos and stuff)

He giggles, avoids eye contact, and thanks you if you compliment him

He’s always giggling for seemingly no reason (hehe)

He likes teaching you stuff that you need help with understanding but with ✨ shy boi rizz ✨ (nerdy boi)

His goofy attempts at humor actually make you laugh somehow (He’s accidentally funny 💀)

He can always cheer you up because he just gives off a good vibe

How he’d act as a partner/what you’d do

He’s most definitely always hanging out around you

He likes giving/getting cute peck-kisses a lot

Spider-Man likes taking you swinging (MJ style)

He likes buying you things even though he can’t afford them (what a dork ♥️)

He’s always hugging you from any angle

He’s definitely submissive, no doubt- (okay, NOW no more of that talk fr fr, like fr-)

You like to take walks together and chat

He likes holding hands a lot

Spider-Man is always watching you… protectively ofc ☺️💀

(I used to be attracted to this mask when I was wayyy younger but now it’s just cute.)

And that’s it! Enjoy some gifs of our 3 beautiful bois. ⬇️ ♥️

[mackmontgomerys]

mack: but how do i know u won't just walk out bc u want 100 bucks mack: terms gotta be cashfree mack: especially cuz i plan to be one half of one of them weird couples fucking in the bathroom cause i already know what my girls gonna be turning up in and i'll be simpin. well not my girl like official but you know what im saying. so if i lose 50 dollars for it its gonna be on my mind when i'm gettin it in and thats no fun mack: thats optimistic at least, now im kind of rooting for u to change the tides mack: still more fun if u dress up tho mack: damn u are all up in my pockets today av mack: ur lack of belief in me is mad cold

aviva: $50 if it's actually good, you owe me $100 if it's so terrible i walk out within the first two hours aviva: an extra 50 every time i can't use the bathroom bc there's some weird couple fucking in it aviva: i've logged onto twitch.tv once or twice in my life for research, it's not that hard aviva: ok but i'm not gonna be the weirdo and here's why: i'm so incredibly hot that everyone will feel stupid for dressing up and not going against the grain like i did, i'll be a trendsetter aviva: what are you even dressing up as aviva: is this some kind of themed party or a free for all? aviva:good it's meant to confuse you. aviva: you're literally welcome for the idea aviva: make that an extra 10 for the idea itself aviva: not so sure i believe that

[missglaskin]

hewwo :0

could i please request tower, sun and strengh for aemond? i'm simpin him so hard it's not even funny

Strength - How outwardly passionate is this yandere around their darling? 

Aemond appears a little cold at first glance; somewhat distant. He gave you some time to process your situation. The intensity of Aemond's feelings, however, can be seen in his desire to be as physically affectionate as possible and in his constant presence around you.

The Tower - If this yandere saw their darling in danger, how would they respond/react?

Although Aemond is somewhat impulsive, he usually thinks some things through, but with you around, all that goes out the window. Anyone who has put you in danger will suffer a level of torture that will even make the cruelest of them feel pity. Even if it means razing entire cities, Aemond will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.  

The Sun - When would this yandere feel content with their situation? 

The only time Aemond will be content is when he is certain that you are truly his. He can best ensure this by having forcing you wed him. By marrying him in the sight of the gods, you have fully committed yourself to him.

[annhellsing]

The Killing Kind

notes: this is something of a spiritual successor / sequel to my original naraku fic, a hundred demons. it’s a been a minute but simpin ain’t easy rating: teen, we don’t cross the smut boundary but this is just gross in some areas so be warned. pairing: naraku / reader word count: 1,604

His tongue is as a worm, slithering over the bed of your lips as his nails find purchase in your hair. He’s taking back that kiss you asked for, trying to show with the pain of his mouth how wrong you are to desire him.

He is again in possession of a body, with arms that reach and claim. Naraku is a cold husk, home to a hundred parasites. You can taste damp and mildew as you kiss him, the sick rot in his soul tainting his insides.

Naraku holds himself against you, his eyes wide open. Your lashes brush your cheeks, eyes closed and face tilted up to receive whatever he means to poison you with. 

Anything. He could slit your throat, you're so close to him. He could drive his sharp fingers through the soft skin of your eyelid and blind you for his own fun. In his head there are voices chattering away, demanding your sweet life snuffed out. A thousand tortures spring to mind, gruesome ways he could twist your bones and take until your fluttering soul is torn to shreds.

And yet one voice is above the rest, the defeated sound of a reflective monster. It demands him to pull away, and it is powerful enough to take hold of his limbs. Naraku forces himself backward, making you gasp.

Your eyes fly open, finding him and stunning him to silence. In your eyes there is no confusion or hurt. You only blink as a cat does, slowly and before advancing.

Respect is in your cautious steps, as if his arms that have retreated from your waist displease you. You seek to change it with the careful way your hands find his shoulders, slipping around his neck and cradling where his skull and spine meet. You pull him back against you, more gentleness where the tips of your fingers touch him than a shadow cast over his face.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” you say, pressing your chest to his. 

Naraku’s gaze does not waver, but for a moment you wonder if he expects your advances more keenly than he’d like to let on. Certainly he seems to desire them. But he has never been very good at hiding the way his heart is far from hardened. 

“When have you ever been able to control me?” he asks, the sneer in his voice is a knife sharpened too quickly. The blow does not land as he expects, it is the greatest lie he’s ever told.

“A fortnight ago you became very cross with me for teasing,” you smile at him.

And to your immortal shock, his breath catches in his throat when you very suddenly lean towards him. Stopping just short, sighing softly onto the cold lips you hold such adoration for. Such infuriating adoration, one he cannot puzzle out.

For you are content with the worm making a knot in your ribs, it seems. For the demons in his heart to move between your bodies with any connection. 

One of your arms falls to his side, your fingers curling between his. Naraku is terrified for a moment as you touch him, afraid for the first time that a piece of himself may be missing. The human shard in his ribs still cries out for the love of a woman, but the coal-black lump of flesh that was once a heart may very well now reside in you.

His flesh, your flesh. His tongue, your tongue. The rot inside him, the host has no new home to claim in you. There is no room for corruption when you have already stolen and consumed some small part of his immortal body.

Death is a choice that you will not catch him making, but he always imagined himself standing alone. You squeeze his hand tight, and claim a kiss from him even when he has the power to stop you. The soft brush of your lips is a heady contrast to his loving violence.

Naraku never stood a chance at conquering you, not when you’d kiss him both in pieces and whole so reverently. You bring him no pain, no more suffering than what he’s already suffered. His body has been eaten from the inside, holes torn in his soul as it was slowly consumed by moths. You hold what is left of him in your hands, he feels cold as ice.

“Why are you doing this?” he exhales, forcing his eyes open but powerless to do much else. He’s stiff and still as you lay your cheek to the baboon cloak draped around his shoulders.

“Because you’re not dead,” you tell him. 

“I cannot die,” he says, but there is an unsung question hidden in his voice. He makes no move to untangle himself again, having already been humiliated once with your ability to command.

“Then why are you so afraid of me?” you ask, your eyes are now open too. He wishes they would shut, perhaps forever. The intricate web of your eyelashes was more pleasant than the knowing way you stare now. “Why are you so afraid of a love you can’t feel?”

Because he does feel it. He feels it now in the way his misplaced heart careens towards yours, and gives him a hunger again for the long-forgotten peace of a cave with loving hands on him. He wishes for the first time since his devouring that he could be made of the same hope as you contain. The human heart he once kept behind his ribs, instead of a fist leaking poison.

It shouldn’t be allowed, the way you make him feel. The shaking of his devotion to hate and fury, the fire he starts burning twice as bright as that within no longer holds the same warmth. There is now a hole the exact shape of your mouth in his resolve, and you take advantage by kissing him again.

The singing hum of your breathing will not be cut short so easily. The urge in him to see maggots bloom in your corpse is forcefully pushed aside. His demon impulse is always present, but it is nonetheless impressed by your shrewd dulling of his anger.

You introduce an alternative. Not one that Naraku must act upon now, to which he attributes its success, but you feed the part inside of him he thought had died of starvation. Had he ever considered an end to the blood before? To a pocket of pride he could have for something other than destruction?

There is a reason he turned over Onigumo’s heart so many times, never finding the courage to discard it. For all his lust for power, it has never wanted to leave him. The hope that he could still have quiet, if not peace. Understanding, if not love.

“You think yourself clever,” he could spit, rage against the inevitability of that truth. But his accusation is a cold and decisive echo. “You think only of my weakest part, and how it might be swayed.”

His aching, fetid heart. That is what you advance upon, take without asking, borrow with no intention to return. And then you dare to kiss him like that gives you power. And he has to claw his fingers into you to try and bury that he likes it.

“Maybe so,” you relent. Your silly, little smile hovers before his lidded eyes again. Maybe you’ll touch his heart one day with your bare hands, even if it burns.

Your resolve is as strong as his, as bathed in blood and as consumed by evil. You could not purify him if you tried, decay colors your soul as keenly as it does his own. It’s why, he suspects, he feels so safe in your embrace.

For now it leans towards too tight, the strength of your arms crushing around him as you drag him closer. But his chest is to yours, there is a limit to your taking of him. And yet for a moment he wonders if you will succeed in taking more of him.

Your third kiss contains the bones of your teeth against his blushing lower lip. The shock of such sudden desire makes fine hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Your warm, little teeth worry over his flesh like you mean to eat him.

But never do they break skin, they remain consistent in their devouring pressure but offer no real pain. Only gooseflesh on the hands and arms that belong to a hellish collective. His heart in your hands does have power, the power to make demon skin crawl with frightening affection.

Goosebumps, you can’t help but smile as you put your hand to the back of his neck and squeeze. You’ve given him goosebumps.

You’ve made a mockery of his attempts to wound you, to cut a gash into your bleeding heart. Humans are a diamond mine of fragility, your weaknesses create a sick need inside them. A need to exploit that you simply will not allow. It humbles him how easily you can disprove his point.

Still, you touch him. You ghost your hands over the deep separation between human and demon, the scarring on his back with eight, cruel legs. There is a newness in your indifference for his evil that keeps his budding emotions from becoming a threat. Whatever you seek from him, it does not involve turning him from his course.

The world lies before him like your delicate life, easy enough to take. In one palm is a glittering jewel, and in the other are your warm fingers.

[roselyn-writing]

My reaction indeed 🤤🤤🤤

Kuai Liang doing this:

Me:

[the-slasher-madame]

Since it’s Bo simpin hours, how would Bo react if he found out his long term best friend (maybe like a year since they came to Ambrose) turned out to be a vampire? They’d probably make a joke like “yeah that’s why I wasn’t scared of y’a, you couldn’t kill me if you tried”

It's always Bo Simpin' Hours. When I said I want this man to point a double-barrel shotgun at me, I mean like dead center of my chest. Anywho, I think this is gonna be fun >:3

ALSO I'm sorry writing these take me so long >_< I'm trying I swear

TW/Notes: mentions of violence (as per usual), cursing (as per usual), vampires, please let me know if I missed anything!!

Bo Sinclair with a Vampire Best Friend:

Bo had thought you were remarkably calm when you first arrived at his happy waxen town

Like you didn't even scream, and that kinda pissed him off. He likes when they scream, you weren't any fun :(

That's really the main reason he decided to keep you, he wanted to see what made you tick

Unfortunately for him, he decided you were a really cool person!! Now he kept you around as a friend instead of as a toy

You were pale, but he figured you were just like that. You didn't explode on-sight in sunlight, but you kept heavy amounts of sunscreen on-hand

Again, Bo just figured you were pale and maybe from somewhere cold, he didn't think about it too much

There also weren't a whole lot of crucifixes in the house or the House of Wax (religion has failed him and his family enough that he resents the Christian god), so that isn't much of a problem. And he's pretty understanding if you say you want to keep away from the church, cause again he understands

One night, about a year after you were inducted into Ambrose, the two of you were sitting on the porch, drunk as skunks and shooting the shit

"Ya know, I never understood just why yous was never scared of us," he asks you, his voice slurred but pleasant, slinging his beer bottle around

"Hell, you couldn't've killed me, I'm basically fucking immortal," you were slurring your speech too, but pretty giggly either way

"The fuck you mean? My shotgun was loaded and ready to blast yer ass ta Mars." "Bo, I'm a vampire, shotgun ain't gonna do shit."

At first he just laughs at you, cause like wow vampire good one pal

You decide to prove it by turning into a bat, and that sobers him up real quick

He's terrified, this man was raised as a Christian and he's a cynical son of a bitch. A vampire? Aren't those things evil and deadly n shit? (like he ain't deadly smh).

You're back out of bat form, and you can see he looks a little pale (hehe). You reassure him it doesn't change anything, you wouldn't hurt your found family

I think then, cause he's still a little drunk, he's pissed. "The fuck didn't you say somethin? Motherfucker."

Bo wishes you'd have told him, he's your best friend and your his

When you introduce him to your wonderful world of weirdness, he decides it might be a good idea to upgrade the armory around town. If he acquires any anti-vampire weaponry, he probably wouldn't tell you. He doesn't want you to think it's for you, but for any other vampires that might wander through (and let's face it, a piece of him will always be worried you'll cut and run, you're his best friend but he's been hurt too much to not have a plan in place)

Also stocks up on stuff for other supernatural critters, like packs of silver bullets and iron and crucifixes and the likes

Will not let you near his neck, what can I say he's superstitious once he realizes the supernatural exists

Thinks it's hilarious when you go to bat mode

With all the victims that come through Ambrose, you get to have some fresh food. Bo would beg you to help freak the tourists out and deliver psychological torture

You like human food too, so dry periods in Ambrose are tolerable. If it gets really bad, Bo can tolerate having blood taken and bagged to give you a snack (complains the whole time though)

Will also take you out hunting with him and/or Lester to get some fun yummy animal blood

Overall, he freaks out, then is pissed, then goes back to normal and makes fun of you, but will make sure your taken care of

Sidenote, I think he would leave you be when you feed. He's only human, and I think it would freak him out (yes he kills people, but he's weird alright? He just is)

Hi!!! I hope you like it <33333

I don't know much about magical critters, and I feel bad it takes me so long to get to my requests >_<

But yea vampires!! Pretty cool, and I relate to being an unfortunate shade of pale. I swear, I burn when I go out to do yard chores. I do really like fangs and teeth though, I am perfectly fine with Bo biting me. Besides the point, but there it is. Love you Fang (and Bo) <3

[lemonmancer]

I absolutely love your work! Thank you so much for providing such beautiful and smutty artwork for all of us thirsty-ass hoes! I look forward to seeing what else you come up with :)

If only ya knew how much messages like these warms my cold, simpin’ heart, thank you so much for the sweet words! Happy to provide a big cold one to help parch our mutual thirst for the bastard man 

[theramseyloft]

7/23/21 Loft Notes

Feeling much better today.

Not 100%, yet, but closer to it than yesterday.

Cleaned Ankhou's feeding station.

Dove palace is clean.

Patron: "so I'm a little confused why some birds aren't allowed to breed?"

Patron: "health issues generally, or waiting to be shipped"

Patron: "Some portion of health issues aren't heritable, like broken wings and stuff though?"

Patron: "It might not be healthy for the bird to take care of babies or lay eggs,, it takes a lot out of them"

Most of my birds aren't allowed to breed.

Only 8 pair are on the breeding roster at any given time.  

Not necessarily because of anything wrong with anyone else, but because no responsible breeder breeds out of every single animal they produce or acquire.  

I'm very selective about who is allowed to contribute to the breeding program.  Who ever is allowed has to: 1. be physically fit enough that the strain of laying eggs and rearing peeps to weaning poses no known potential risk. 2. Have specific heritable traits the project needs.

For example, Alex and Dodger were allowed to stay and breed to incorporate the absolutely insane immune system feral pigeons develop by necessity into the Therapy bird project.  

Even when those conditions are met, not every clutch is allowed to hatch.  

If I allow a clutch to hatch, it's either because I need a baby from that pair for developmental observation, or because there are still people on my wait list waiting for their peep.  

Pairs that are retired are hatch controlled until they go to their new homes. Leonard and Elliot, for example, both have homes lined up, so the egg she laid yesterday was swapped for a fake.  

Passenger looks great now, but she barely survived.  

Eggs take a LOT of resources to produce! Each is larger than her head, and needs enough calcium from her to make not just the shell, but form the skeleton of an entire baby bird AND make all of the ridiculous chemical pathways and reactions that calcium is involved in.

The building blocks to make two entire baby birds and the encapsulated external wombs they will grow in comes directly from the tissue of the hen.  

After that, she's going to spend four weeks so devoted to keeping them fed that, between her weight loss and the rapid weight gain of the peeps, they will out weigh her when they wean.

That's hard on a fit hen.

To allow a hen that barely escaped death by malnutrition to go through that would not be acting in her best interest.

Clutch rearing is a lot less hard on the cock because the only tissue he's losing is a drop of semen.  Not exactly physiology expensive.   He'll put as much time and physical effort into incubating the eggs and feeding the peeps as she will, but he will not have provided all of the physical building materials to make the eggs and peeps.

Hospital cages are clean.

Cherub and Tandy seem to have accepted my solution to their dilemma.

Tandy laid an egg next to their not-quite-3-week-old, but couldn't actually set it because the peep was in the way.

I made a second nest box, intending it to be for the egg. But Tandy had shuffled a cup into the gross used nest, and that was the one she wanted to brood in.

So I removed the poop, preserved the cup to the best of my ability, returned the egg, and put the nestling in the clean nest.

Cherub is on the egg in the photo.

Mesh and bricks hosed yesterday brought in.

Window, mirror, swing, and weight stones brought out and washed.

Pigeons really seem to like their new diet. These are the roundest, most neatly compacted poos I've seen in a while!

Well shit.

My loft's doorknob has fallen apart in my hand.

Well, fuck...

Fixed it!

Required several minutes of standing in the hateful ga sun, but I fixed it.

Needles finally got here!

Nettle tread Hoss.

Swing, clean mats, and clean bricks replaced.

Compost emptied.

Back third nest boxes mucked.

Mesh laid out.

Birds watered, supplemented, and fed.

Nests mucked.

Need to take a break.

Starting to develop heat exhaustion.

Caught myself early, drank cold water, and sat with my foot on the AC vent.

Heading out to finish up.

Center third finished.

Just the front third and photos left.

Ginger's simpin' pretty hard for Lucy.

Keeps trying to interrupt Pippin treading her to get in there himself.

Maybe he's who sired her older peep with pied markings on his beak.

None of Pippin's kids have ever been pied. He doesn't cary any.

I'm done with the manual aspect of loft work.

Nettle is 5 months old, and so busy driving Hoss that I can't get a fucking shot of him.

Jesus Christ, Nobu has nestlings and was easier to get.

The camera struggles to focus on Komodore's white face because it doesn't like the contrast with her shiny black neck, and she was easier to get!

Fucking Suki, who has nestlings and a horny husband and hates me was easier to get photos of!

Bell, who reacts to the camera like it will steal her soul, posed like a model.

Nettle is still chasing Hoss.

Buddy. We're gonna lose the light

Can you take literally a thirty second break, so I can get updates of you?

God damn fucking teenage boy hormones.

I had to put her on the porch. He's been so intent on chasing her that he's gullar fluttering like he's gonna faint.

Patron: "Nettle jfc"

"Keep it in your pants for a second"

And now Couture is trying to drive everything that moves, and won't fucking let Nettle cool off.

Nevermind, Nettle won't let himself.

Starting shit with literally everyone is not going to help you cool off, Nettle.

Neither is yelling about this nest box belonging to you between panting.

There you go.

Drinking water actually will.

[glassbxttless]

Rick Smolan x f!Reader

Word Count: 521

Warnings: breasts

Notes: here’s another @writer-wednesday blurb! i hope it’s enjoyable!

He’s bundled up, turtle neck to his ears and coat pulled close over top. Snowflakes are settling into strands of his hair as one gloved hand squeezes yours. Rick is happy to be here. Happy that you begged him to take a break, to go with you somewhere new, somewhere fun. Just the two of you. He’s got his camera bag attached to his hip— just in case something strikes his fancy.

this walk is what you needed. you needed the time to reconnect with him, he’s gone so often these days. It seems as if you can’t even enjoy the time he is home. He spends it spread out on the sofa, finding the best images from his recent voyages. Or he spends it developing photos of you, the photos he’ll more than likely tuck into his suitcases to remember you by. But he’s here now, his hand tucked tightly into yours. Rick flashes the prettiest smile at you, pushes his glasses up on his nose just a bit. “it’s a bit cold out here.” you mumble to him, his hand leaving yours to wrap an arm around your waist.

Rick loves you, he always has. ever since he��s met you. You’ve given him a reason to keep going, to treasure every moment of his life. He can hardly wait each day to close the lid on his laptop and curl you close to his body and hold you in his arms for as long as you’ll let him. and now he gets to love you here, on a trip for just the two of you. he gets to love you in this small little town in Europe that you will treasure for years to come. He’ll get to think of the days you spent here, sitting by the fire in the room of your bed and breakfast. he’ll get to think of the morning kisses you shared. he’ll think of your bare skin pressed against his, too hot for clothing even if there’s a chill settling into your bones from the open window. and he’ll have that photo of you stashed into his bags. your body draped in swaths of sheets and a thick duvet over your calves. he’ll have that photo of the swells of your breasts, the dimples in your back, the curves of your spine— he’ll have these memories of you, whether you keep them or not.

There’s a cafe not too far from where you’re walking, it’s covered in a thin layer of snow— wreaths holding snowflake after snowflake as he pushes the door open for you. “order us some hot chocolate?” he asks as he grabs out his camera, “just give me one second.” he kisses your cheek and watches you walk up to the counter. and maybe he steps out into the street to snap a photo of the view. the storefronts he’ll always wants to treasure. and he can see you in the corner, through the window of the cafe. you’re ordering for the both of you and he doesn’t know if he’s been more in love than he is right now.

*

*

@sacklerscumrag @fizzywoohoo @candycanes19 @thepriceofstars @2000andwhat @themuseic @clydesfavoritegirl @caillea @maybe-your-left @driversmutbucket @daughterofaries @cornmousequeen @mrs-kylo-ren @peachyproserpina @millenialcatlady @leatherboundbirate @jynzandtonic @paterson-blue @loganluckylover @hedgy-hog @simpin-mama @thepalaceofmelanie @emi11ie @theoncrayjoy

[thesquareinthecircularhole]

hey stupid, i love you [MCYT: Dream x GN!Reader]

song: hey stupid I love you by jp saxe

warnings: fluff

im pretty sure i made this an gender neutral as possible but if there is an error lmk thanks bby :*

im in a simpin mood bby

as always, song lyrics in italics

i skipped a couple versus due to repetitiveness oops

this is the one i complained about losing, but it actually worked out bc i like this one better...less wordy

word count: ~2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing's wrong, and it's not what I'm used to Oh, does it surprise you too? When it's simple, is it easier than it should be?

"Hey babe, are you okay? You've been quiet today," Dream practically pouted as he asked you. He loved the sound of your voice and while you definitely weren't giving him the quiet treatment, you sure weren't as talkative as you normally are.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just distracted thinking my thoughts." You smiled at him and leaned against him. He looked down at you and pecked your lips. You gave him a sweet kiss back. The smile he gave you made your heart boom. Loving him was as easy as eating a cake (because the usually analogy 'baking a cake' isn't true, its sometimes hard to bake a cake, especially when a hungry streamer keeps trying to eat the batter or start a flour fight).

"Anyway, don't you have a stream with the Dream Team to get ready for? One that starts in," you look at the clock on your phone, "three minutes ago?" The slight panic that crosses Dream's face makes you laugh loud. He gives you another kiss and in less than five seconds has practically launched himself across the house into his recording room. Your laughter follows him the whole way, a smile and blush upon his face.

Nothing's wrong, but when you're not in my arms I send voice notes, you send hearts And get quiet, and I know that means you miss me

Okay, granted, you were the one to remind him that he was streaming with his friends today and speedrunning, but you didn't expect it to last well over five hours. At the beginning you worked on your classwork for your [college degree of choice]. You got it done quickly, as it was nearing the end of the semester and most professors of yours were laidback and wanted you to study more than write nonsense papers (fictional you, i'm so jealous). Occasionally you would jump in fear when you heard Dream shout, still not used to it after years.

After finishing your classwork, you started cooking dinner. Soup was the vibe for the evening, and you had found a wonderful chicken and dumplings recipe a while ago that you wanted to try. You did have to go to the store for some of the ingredients, but luckily it only took you an hour. You can back and he was still streaming. It took about another hour for dinner to be done. You let it cool and prepared yourself a bowl. You set your laptop up and started watching Dream's stream. Hearing his voice made you miss him, so you pulled out your phone.

Going to the two of y'alls messages, you started making him a voice message.

"Hey baby, I made dinner, so don't play so long it gets cold. I love you! Kick the enderdragon's ass baby! Mwah."

You continued watching him stream, and he took a pause for a minute, his screen not moving from the create a new world screen and his mic muted. A couple seconds later you got spammed with every heart offered in the emoji index times what felt like a thousand.

He continued being quiet for a couple seconds, although he did unmute and continue playing, answering George's and Sapnap's questions of where he went with, "I had to take a message."

You're jealous, you shouldn't be I want you obsessively But I know how complicated it can get When you're not in front of me I know insecurities get in your head

Chat sometimes upset you. Sure, you got Dream, all of him, but sometimes the comments made by some of the more obsessives fans were a bit to much.

'With the way he killed those mobs you know he's got good fingers'

'His voice is hot so he must be'

'Heyo dream baby lemme see them feet'

Okay the last one was more weird, and actually turned out to be a joke from Quackity but anyway moving on.

He was your guy, and he promised himself to you, but sometimes he seemed to have a genuine connection with some of the sweeter and not gross ones. It made you scared that someone, one day, will swoop him off his feet with a comment and he’d leave you for them. 

But I'm not gonna interrupt if you need to talk about it Roll my eyes, get offended by the way you doubt it You know you're mine, you just forget sometimes So promise me you won’t And you know I'll remind you when you think I don't

The stream ended a little under an hour later. Dream left his recording room, grabbed a bowl of soup, and found you in the living room, lost in thought. He plopped down right next to you. 

“Talk to me baby.”

“About what?”

“Anything and everything.”

“Okay.” You’re quiet for a bit, despite his offering of listening. He knew you were gonna take him up on the offer, you just needed a bit of time, so he was going to wait patiently. He finished his soup quickly, he was much hungrier than he thought. He put the bowl on the coffee table and before he was all the way leaned back on the couch, you were leaning against him. His arms wrapped around you, your head was tucked in between his head and shoulder, and a blanket covered the both of you. You looked towards the blank tv screen but felt his eyes on you.

“I love you a lot. And I know you love me too, but I’m afraid I’m not enough. You have so many options, especially with your popularity online. I don’t know what I’d do if you left me, whether it be for someone else or just because you’re tired of me.” Dream waits for you to stop entirely, with you breathing heavily.

“Well, you’re right about one thing. I do love you, a lot. The rest of it is wrong and I’ll spend the rest of time telling you so.” Dream says, pressing several kisses against your forehead. 

“Yeah I know it’s stupid to feel this way, but my anxiety gets the best of me. It’s stupid, I’m stupid.”

“First of all, you’re not stupid. Second, hey stupid, I love you.”

Nothing's wrong, I just get in my head too Can you reassure me you, you're still in it? I just wish you could lean in and kiss me

As much as Dream loved you and reassured you, sometimes he would get caught up in his thoughts too. The life of a streamer/youtuber, especially one with as much fame and subscribers as him, was rough. The constant need to feed his fans with entertainment and content, and the need for the content to satisfy his fans was stressful. He hates to admit it, but he some days he spent to much time working and not enough with you. He thinks you would be so much happier with someone without a tight schedule and without a large, intense fanbase. Any random person on the street would be better for you than him, he thinks. 

When he gets into this headspace, the only thing that grounds him is your lips on his. When you kiss him, the clouds go away and all he can see is your eyes, as bright as the sun, and your smile, which can tempt even the purest. 

Say nothing's wrong, tell me to settle down You do it better than I've ever known how Won't pull some tricks for attention But could I get a little now?

Now, everyone knows that Dream likes some attention. He especially likes attention from you. Good thing is you also like attention, especially from him. The not so good thing is both of y’all get distracted so bad, it’s almost too funny.

He tends to get your attention by tickling you, whether it be in the comfort of your home or in public. One day, when you guys were walking through town, you stopped at a flower booth and got to talking with the friendly and flirty florist gentleman. It had been a couple minutes, and Dream was really needing some love, but you continued chatting with the florist who was definitely going to ask for your number but you genuinely thought he was just being nice. Dream crept up behind you and placed his hands on your side. You froze for a moment and looked at him, confused. The smirk that crossed his face barely gave you a second to prepare as he tickled your sides. Your laughter filled the street as you turned around as he tickled you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, which got him to stop ticking you, and gave him a kiss. The two of you continued on your way, attached at the hip.

And one day, when you wanted his attention, it was after he was done recording a manhunt with his friends. The actual video had been done for a bit, but they were just fucking around in the minecraft world and talking to each other. You had had a not so nice day, and wanted the crushing weight of your boyfriend on top of you. You crept into his recording room and came to stand right behind his chair. Based on the conversation you could tell he wasn’t recording anymore, so you knew it was safe. Your hands started in his hair, trailed down to his face, and slid down his body till your arms were wrapped around him snuggly. Your head was placed on top of his. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, and received no response. Instead, you began aggressively shaking him and the chair, turning it this way and that, making him slightly dizzy. His laughter filled the room, and he quickly ended the call. The two of you spent the next 12 hours cuddled in bed, leaving only for the necessities. 

You're jealous, you shouldn't be I want you obsessively But I know how complicated it can get When you're not in front of me I know insecurities get in your head

Dream got jealous as well sometimes. You were beautiful and a lot of the time attracted the attention of random passerbyers. Those people, who you don’t even know, who lived normal lives where they didn’t have to spend every second worried that their face will be revealed to the public and suddenly all their fans from around the world will know what they look like or the general area in which they live, who don’t have to obey algorithms and bend to the will of the masses to make sure they get paid enough to live, who could give you a normal and safe life. Every time one looked at you with some attraction, he pulled you a bit closer and kissed you a bit harder. 

But I'm not gonna interrupt if you need to talk about it Roll my eyes or get offended by the way you doubt it You know you're mine, you just forget sometimes So promise me you won’t And you know I'll remind you when you think I don't

Sometimes, Dream needed to rant. A long, hard, intense, rant. Sometimes it was about how someone accused him of cheating his speedruns. Sometimes it was about how someone said something nasty to him or one of his friends. Sometimes it was about a comment someone made about him or you that got on his nerves. When he needed to talk, you sat there and you listened. You did whatever he needed to get better, whether it was just listen or talk to find solutions. You did it because you know he would do the same for you. And afterwards, a cuddle session was a must. 

How could you forget? I told you seventeen times before 7 AM I love you How could you forget? I told you seventeen times

The morning after rough days were one of the bests. Arms tangled together, legs tangled together, everything tangled together, no one able to tell where one started and the other ended. Lazy kisses pressed to faces, hands, necks, any part of skin the lips could touch. One particular morning you woke up earlier than he did. A quick kiss against his cheek woke him up, and he gave you the most love filled smile any man could do.

“Hey stupid,” you said, “I love you.”

[morgana-ren]

Damn validation hits different when its from your favorite Shigaraki poster.

No but really creepy obsessed Shigaraki can like get it however it he wants it. Just like that act of having blood on your hands from killing someone "accidentally/on purpose" and Shigaraki making you touch him and in turn touching you with the blood of your friends that he spilled to get your attention is like 🥵🥵🥵. The manipulation, the bloodshed, the unhealthy relationship that's gonna result cause like. You jumped at an opportunity to kill babe, in the end you're just like him. Or Shigaraki forcing you to hold the knife or whatever and kill your remaining friend(s). Its hot and romantic if you think about. Just like spilling blood together even if its accidental is AMAZING

I honestly can't write for shit, I just have ideas and run on sentences but I'll take whatever scraps you throw my way❤

Thank you so much! ❤️ 💕 I’m telling you, it’s a fuckin’ awesome idea. Look, on some level, a lot of us were simpin’ for these slashers. Especially when it came to the ones that got a little too close and personal. One going crazy for you and using your weaknesses against you? Holding your friends lives against you and bending you to his whims or else? Top tier.

Mmmmhmmhmhmmhhaaaaahahaaa okay so I tried my hand at a quick one, just him being a total bastard. You know, cause why not. I can technically make it more crazy and romantic as opposed to ‘total psychopath holds me captive’, but this is what ended up coming out atm. I hope it’s alright! He is not nice, because I never write him nice. He’s actually a complete bastard, but you know.

Tomura shoves you through the rocks and fauna that line the camping area and forward toward one of the craft cabins, practically carrying you at this point because your own legs are too weak to hold your own body weight. 

A quick flip of the switch to turn on the ugly, yellowish flickering lights reveals he's got one of your fellow councilors tied up and unconscious with their head lopped over on their shoulder, a little dribble of blood trailing down their temple from where he hit them with the butt of the knife. You're shaking in his grip as he gently guides you in front of the chair, rubbing up and down your arms in a way that is likely meant to be comforting but gives away his already barely concealed excitement.

"You said you'd do whatever I ask, right?"

Dread blooms, threading through your ribcage and squeezing, suffocating your lungs and anchoring your gut to the floor in abject horror. Bile rises up to tickle your esophagus as he presses the hilt of the blade to your palm- still slick with blood and caked with the viscera of your fellow campers- your friends. You tear your face away. You can't look. You can't look.

"I want you to prove it to me."

His hand constricts across your chin in an iron grip and yanks your face back toward them, your tears pooling in the slats of his fingers. He gently curls each of your own fingers around the knife- so gently in contrast to the way he's lodged against your jaw- before releasing you and shoving you forward.

“You’re going to kill them. I even made it easy for you. He’s out cold- no screaming, no struggling, none of the obnoxious stuff I had to deal with. All you gotta do is push the knife in to prove your loyalty to me.”

The dam breaks and you fall to your knees, shaking your head as the knife falls from your hand and clatters to the floor, spinning aimlessly on its axis. Sobs catch in your throat, hiccupping relentlessly through the choked gasps and guttural blubbers. “I-I can’t! I won’t! You can’t make me do this! Please, Tomura-”

He rolls his eyes, plucking the knife from the floor before threading his hands through your hair to the scalp and jerking you back up to your feet and into his arms again. Your teeth clench at the pain, another sob wracking your spine as you almost double back over. “I can make you do anything I want- Don’t forget what this is.” Releasing your hair, he curls an arm around under your tits, holding you upright, his other pushing the knife back into your sweaty palm, hand curling around yours to guide you. “Don’t forget what happens if you don’t do what I ask. I’ll even help you, if you’ll stop your incessant sniveling.” He moves forward, bringing you with him closer to your target, brandishing the knife entwined in your hands. The sharp blade catches on the collar of their pastel camp shirt, moving lower as Tomura calculates out exactly where to move- he won’t drag this out just to hurt you. He might be cruel, but he’s not a monster.

“Right there-” The tip sits point blank, scaling downward below the inner part of the left clavical bone- stopping approximately between the fourth and fifth ribs and angling the knife upward. Hours of volunteering to teach the camp anatomy lesson tells you as much. “We’ll push it in together right there. It’ll be almost instant, I swear-”

“Please- I can’t-” “You can.” He cranes his neck and kisses your hairline, and you recoil as much as you from his affections. “And you will. For me.” A hideous giggle as he kisses at the shell of your ear. “And for yourself.”

His hand moves forward, taking yours along with him, and the tip of the blade dents in the billow of your victim’s shirt. Your hand shakes, fingers trembling, but guided by Tomura’s movements, it nudges in deeper, and you meet the first level of flesh.

“Now just push it in-”

A small patch of blood begins to bloom outward from the point of contact, piercing his skin as Tomura wedges the blade in deeper with a slow, fluid movement. You could swear that as it embeds further into his skin, that his body quivers and tightens-

“C’mon- Almost there. A few more inches and you’ll be done-”

At this point, he’s the only thing anchoring your hand to the handle, more his efforts than your own. He’s definitely taking far more pleasure in this than you; A terrible, carnivorous smile sliced across his face as he claims your faltering fingers beneath his own. He’s made it perfectly clear what’s to become of you if you dare to defy him, but even as the proverbial guillotine looms above your neck, every instinct in your body screams to shove him off, to run, to hide where he can never find you.

But he’s stronger than you- faster too- made sure to impress upon you that he’s smarter as well. He’s made a point of telling you in explicit detail what will become of you if he has to chase you down again, but the impulse is thrumming through your veins side by side with the adrenaline that makes you nauseous. Even if you could fend him off- even if he couldn’t catch you- you could never go home. He’d spent months planning this down to the marrow. Every little detail orchestrated to look like the handiwork of an unhinged and underappreciated camp councilor- you.

There’s so much blood. On him. On you. Dribbling down the front of the unconscious councilor’s shirt and staining the pastel a stark red that blears your black and white pulsating vision. You can feel his heartbeat in the knife, you swear you can-

“Almost there, baby-”

The blade stills as it meets a meaty wall of resistance and you know it’s reached the his heart. Tomura’s body shivers against yours, knife almost fully driven into the thorax now. You try not to think about how much time it must have taken him to study, how much he must have researched avoiding the sternum and the cage of ribs meant to protect the vital muscle if only to force you to bend for him this way.

“You wanna know something fucked up?” He removes his hand from yours, leaving you gripping the hilt for a split second before you yank yourself backwards, sobbing openly as it stays put, stiffly wobbling slightly from the lack of support once you both withdraw. You turn away from the body, smacking into Shigaraki’s chest even as you try to shove him away. He cradles your face, hands crusted with blood tracing the curve of your cheek, smearing your tears across your skin. “He could technically live through this, if I let him. The heart closes punctures on its own if allowed to do so. At least long enough help could get here.” “Please-” You whine, voice cracking and sinuses draining into your throat and clogging your airway in your distress. “Please! We can leave together, we can go wherever you want! Just call him an ambulance and we’ll go. I’ll go with you willingly, we don’t have to-”

“You’ll come with me anyway, you dumb little slut. I don’t think you’re quite grasping what’s happening here.” He seethes behind clenched teeth, fingers twisting in your uniform. “But I guess you have a point. He doesn’t have to die.”

“Please- Please just-” “Convince me then.”

He pushes you down to the floor again, landing on your knees before him. His hand finds the back of your head, grinding your face onto his crotch hard enough you can feel his stiffening cock against the soft of your cheek.

“What? We don’t have time-” “Better hurry then. Tick tock, princess. I didn’t put a whole lot of effort into finding out how long he can survive.”

Nausea curls up in your gut once more but your fingers still find his zipper, shaking and blinking back tears as you unbutton his trousers. You try to ignore the mocking laugher bubbling in his gut as you fish his cock out from the barrier of fabric, hesitating slightly when your fingers close around the velvety skin of his shaft, hot and throbbing to the touch.

“I don’t know what will be a bigger disappointment- if you don’t know what you’re doing or if you do.” He jeers, taking his dick out of your hands only to slap it against the side of your mouth a few times as he yanks his pantline down enough to free himself fully. “I guess we’ll find out. Either way, you’ll catch on to what I like, won’t you? You were always such a quick little learner.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to rebut, shoving the head of his cock past your teeth in a way that seems almost too eager- like a virgin would. You don’t know much about Tomura- had never even really spoken to him before these past few days, but if you had to guess, judging by the way he’s already breathing heavy and looking down at you with manic eyes and sweating profusely from the nape, this is probably the first time he’s ever been touched intimately like this.

“C’mon!- Suck me already-”

It’s not a surprise. He’s brash and rude and a total loner and butted heads with everyone else from the start, and now he’s responsible for countless deaths as well. He probably never found time to woo anyone between his plotting and abhorrent personality. At least it plays in your favor to some degree, since chances are he’ll cum sooner rather than later. The thought of having to take him down your throat makes you sick, but if it’ll save your friend...

You stick out your tongue past your lips, allowing him to slide his length down your throat without obstruction, blinking your bleary doe eyes up at him as you kitten lick his cock. He shivers with every lave of your tongue, his musky scent invading your nostrils as you try to repress your gag reflex to allow him deeper.

“Oh, fuck yes-“

He stutters his hips, rolling them against your face until you’re flush with the course and curly white litany of hairs nested at the base of his pelvis. His musky busk clogs your senses and cloys up your sinuses, but you’re determined to please him- this isn’t about you anymore- so you shove down the disgust and focus on pampering his cock as best as you can given the circumstances.

“Shit- you’re such a little slut for me. Look at you go, taking my fat cock like a pro-“

You purse your lips around him, locking an airtight seal around the base of his prick and covering your teeth with your lips. The edges swell your lips with every bob of your head, but his moans clue you into the fact that you must be doing something right, so you ignore the discomfort in favor of taking him further down your throat instead.

His hand finds the crown of your head again, closing around your scalp and forcing his cock down into the depths of your throat as he shoves you deeper until your lips are practically pressed against his navel. Gagging is inevitable, as he’s not exactly small, but you try to remind yourself to breathe through your nose instead- though the hot, heady air near his groin does you no favors.

“Come on, baby, take my dick- fuck, you’re such a good little whore for me- suck my cock- fuck, such a good girl-“

He’s close, he’s so close you can taste it. The slimy consistency of precum coats your mouth and he’s throbbing against your throat- he’s almost ready to cum, just a bit more, just a bit-

The tangy smell of blood and arousal sits heavy in the air and even as you want to cry, you swallow him further, closing your throat around him and massaging him with the silken cavern of your throat, letting him fuck your mouth to his liking. Drool spills from the sides of your mouth, swollen lips puffed around his shaft, and he looks at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Gunna cum- gunna come down your fucking throat- you’ll swallow it all-“ his other hand clumsily slaps against your cheek, massaging your cheekbone with hands still blood-wet. “Take it all, you fucking whore- fuck, so pretty, so pretty, all mine now-“

He throbs and you can feel it, cum spurting from his cock down your throat and into your belly. You almost gag, having to force down the sputters with a red face and weepy, bulging eyes. He doesn’t relent his grip, keeping you stuck on his cock as he moans loud and unabashed enough that it leaves you humiliated even as you know that everyone else in the vicinity too long gone to hear it.

You try to swallow it down, try to stomach it all, but it proves just a bit too much. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he’d been withholding for a while. Tapping his thighs, coughing around his length until he finally has the wherewithal to take the hint, he withdraws from you as you cough up small bits of spittle and cum onto the knees of his jeans and your own mouth. You fall down onto your side, hacking up bits of liquid that clearly went down the wrong pipe as he tucks himself away back in his pants.

He kneels down before you, patting your back in a condescending manner with a sinister, lofty smile. You try desperately to get a word out between convulsions, and it doesn’t help that he’s pulling you to your feet before your vision can clear itself, yanking you up into his arms and over his shoulder with one careless heave.

“You did real good, baby- I can’t wait to fuck that tight little cunt of yours when we get back- You’re so perfect- Fuck that was incredible, everything like I dreamed but better-”

You pound on his back, pointing at your friend. They sit limply, knife still jabbed in their chest. Their skin is a sickly pale color, blood running down and pooling in their lap and absorbing into the fabric of their clothing.

“Call- first- please-”

“Huh?” He looks back at the chair and the body tied down to it, grin faltering slightly. “Oh. They’re gone. Long gone. See?” He turns on his heel, bringing his shoe up to kick at the butt of the knife, lodging it deeper into the corpse with one quick stomp of his shoe. There’s no movement, not even a cry or a whimper or a rattle. “They were already dead. I stabbed them in the back of the neck earlier. It was quick, if that makes you feel better. They didn’t feel a thing-” He pats your ass, giving it a quick smack. “But you sure did, didn’t you?”

You wail and kick and scream, energy renewed as his horrific deception and that sickening feeling in your gut plunging further and further into sick. He only cackles, easily keeping you under control with one hand slung around your waist and his shoulder digging into your gut.

“Good call though. Can’t be leaving the murder weapon behind. Memories of our first kill  together and all.”

He yanks the knife out in one swift movement, body slumping over from the momentum and you see the ghastly wound right at the base of the back of his neck.

He was already dead. He was already dead.