#i'm actually a pathetic loser boy

[chuuya-apologist]

In my hot girl era (Gay greek tragedy hyperfixation, particularly Apollo/Icarus and Patroclus/Achilles)

[theundeadbrides]

Obsessed with the idea of Castlevania from Alucard's perspective 'cause like. Imagine your dad is one of the most dangerous people on the planet but you keep forgetting about it because he's also hopelessly and pathetically devoted to your mother to the point of borderline neglecting you which kind of sucks but y'know whatever. And then your mom is brutally and publicly murdered so you head out for your dad's estate already presuming he's cooking up some pretty chill, sweet revenge, only to find out he's actually Actively Planning A Genocide against your own mother's people, of which you're also still technically a part of. So you try telling your dad that's actually Not Chill and he just fucking lunges at you, permanently scarring you and leaving you in a year long coma so now you have to kill your weirdo loser dad which sucks hard cuz y'know. You really don't have anyone else but ok.

But you're still in a coma so then you're woken up by a random mage girl who thinks you're Jesus Christ Reborn and a loser homeless boy who immediately (and homoerotically) tries to fight you and he actually manages to stab you in the gut but you think that's sexy and you ask them if they wanna help you kill your dad and now suddenly you're part of a murder polycule. So like. What I'm trying to say is 10/10 the character of all time

[ncroissant]

switch! doppelgänger francis mosses x dom! gn! reader x sub! francis mosses

summary: double-teaming the real francis with doppel! francis

wc: 1.4k

content warning: nsfw, cock can be viewed as a strap, nipple play (personal fave), throat-fucking, blow jobs, hand jobs, dirty talk, doppel francis is referred to as doppel, wrist burns, tied up francis

author’s note: hellooooo my lovelies !! here is the long awaited fanfic that will hopefully satiate everyone’s preferences from the francis mosses poll yesterday (so i'm a pathalogical liar bc the way this was just sub! francis...) i plan to write many, many more sub! francis content because i cannot imagine him any other way. hope you guys enjoy this :) not proofread, minors please dni !!

“hhGHK-”

“can’t hear you that well down there, francie. speak up f’me?” you smile devlishly, tilting your head to look down at your crotch. francis knelt there with brusied knees, sucking your cock, stroking what he couldn’t fit with two hands.

another francis emerged from behind you, chuckling at his dupilcate’s pitiful state. “is that what the francis of this world is really like? a milk delivery man during the day, then a pathetic little whore who chokes on cocks back at home?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“c’mon, use me too. i would never whine like this while suckin’ on that…” his fingers trailed down your v-line to the base of your cock. “i’m different from this loser…” he pouted, placing his chin on your shoulder, giving you a pleading look.

“m-mmnMPFH, g-GHK!” francis moaned, the vibrations shooting through your cock. he was whiny, but that’s what turned you on the most about your desperate little boyfriend.

you chuckled, gripping at his hair to make him look up at you. “don’t forget to look at me while i fuck your throat, francy,” you instructed as he nodded as best as he could with tears pricking his eyes. the look he gave you was so priceless, his mouth stuff full with your fat cock and drool dripping down his chin.

“yeah, but my dirty boy takes my cock the best,” you praised, making doppel frown. you thrusted your cock deep into francis’ throat, hitting the back of his throat every time you made even the slightest movement.

his eyes rolled back at the thickness and length of your cock, as he exhaled through his nose heavily. he felt his hands drifting down to his bulge, humping the carpet underneath.

you noticed, finally knowing what to do with doppel. “actually, i need you to take care of my needy little boy down there…” you shot francis a glare, shaking your head in disappointment. he whimpered at the action, his eyes widening with tears immediately streaming down his cheeks.

you pulled him off your cock, his saliva connecting to the tip. “haagnh…” he mewled out, his tongue still stuck out, waiting for a sweet treat. “c-cum on my tongue, please…” he begged, placing the tip of your cock on his tongue.

“such a needy boy. always wanting more than what you’re given, huh?” you tutted, grabbing your middle of your cock to tap it roughly on his tongue. he could only moan, feeling his hips shake in anticipating.

“that’s why i have him. to help me discipline you,” you pulled at doppel’s bow to tug him closer, untying it in the process. “c’mere francie. up on my lap,” you patted your lap, holding a hand out for him to get up.

he followed suit, stumbling over his feet a bit, but ultimately sitting on your lap with his back pressed against your chest. his cock was aching in his stupidly tight pants, begging to be let free. his face flushed at the sight of a very different, yet similar version of himself in front of him.

“doppel, c’mere sit on francie’s thigh,” you motioned him over, straightface. you, on the otherhand, begun to tie francis’ wrists above his head with the tie you had previously acquired. doppel obediently followed your instructions, sitting on one of francis’ spread thighs.

“w-what’re we doing?” francis stuttered, feeling exposed despite being fully clothed.

your arms looped around his body, rubbing his nipples through the fabric of his shirt. he jolted. “just punishing you,” you smiled, giving doppel a look. he quickly caught on, unzipping francis’ pants, palming him through his underwear.

your pointer finger tickled at his sensitive nub, while the other hand pinched at his already hardened nipple. francis’ weak spot was his nipples. the way he reacted when you even grazed his nipples made you want to bend him over a bucket and squeeze them until milk came out.

“o-oooH! hnnghh…w-why through my s-shirt?” he whimpered, jutting out his wet lower lip.

you gave him no response, flicking at his buds with your nails, making his arch his back. “gHK! y-you’re too, mnGHHK, rough!” he exclaimed, his brows furrowing. you loved to twist and tug at his nipples.

it was his fault for wearing such a tight uniform shirt. he was just asking to have you toy with his neglected buds that always poked out from the slightly nudge from the shirt fabric. your hands grope his chest, fingers rubbing over them quickly.

doppel wasn’t neglecting francis’ cock either. he was playing lazily with the wet spot on francis’ underwear that leaked pre-cum. it stuck to his pointer finger when he dragged it away, making doppel chuckle at his copy’s sensitivity.

“feel good, francie? squirmin’ so much, hm?” you placed your chin on his shoulder, watching the way his lips shaped into an “o”, mewling at the way you played with his perky nipples. you’d tug on one, flicking the other one quickly.

“g-good, HNGH, o-oghhh...s-so gnhh…” he could barely get a word out, lewd noises just falling out of his lips. you stopped teasing his nipples before slowly unbuttoning his uniform shirt.

doppel wasn’t taking francis seriously, stroking at a pace he thought was slow, but inhumanely too quick for francis. “human dicks are so small. you pleasing anyone with this tiny little guy, huh?” he teased, making eye contact with francis. “oh look, more pre-cum spilled out!”

francis felt how wet his cock was getting, covered in dopel’s spit and his own pre-cum. when he thought he only had to focus on doppel, your hands came back to grope at his chest. you could now visibly see the pink plushness of his nipples.

“looks like something might come out if i squeeze hard enough, right francie?” you whispered in his ear, rolling your fingers around the bud.

“same thing on my end,” doppel chimed in, rubbing his thumb over francis’ slit.

francis shivered at the thought, feeling his high come at lightning speed. the way the tips of your fingers would flick at his nipples combined with doppel’s inhumane strokes made the poor boy explode.

“ooonghhh, ‘m c-cumming soon, mmngh! HGK! c-cumming!” he bursted into doppel’s palm, collapsing into your arms. your movement slowed slightly, but you continued to flick at the tips of his nipples.

doppel took note of this, playing with the slit of his dick, playing with the foreskin. “human stamina is so pathetic. surely you’re not done now?” doppel leaned down, lapping francis’ cum with his monstrous cum.

“UGHK? i-i jus’, hic, came…hnnn…” he cried, tears streaming down his cheeks, feeling his aching tip burn. regardless of his pleads, he still rutting his cock into doppel’s mouth for additional friction.

“show me what your pretty chest looks like now, francie,” you ordered, as he puffed out his chest for you to see properly over his chest. you hummed deciding to untie him so he could give you a real show.

his wrists were red from shaking against the restraints so you pressed chaste kisses against the burns. “that’s not how you show me, is it?” he shook his head, shaking from the way doppel was sucking his dick.

francis’ fingers stretched the skin around his nipples, properly showing you the puffiness of his teased buds. he looked up at you with his fingers strewn across his chest with a teary-eyed expression.

“such a perfect boy f’me,” you praised, ruffling his locks. “so good that you can take another hour of teasing before taking my cock, right?” you grinned, your hands finding their rightful spot on his chest.

‘e-EUGH! yesyesyes…i can take it, hngh!” he nodded furiously, his hips shaking like a dog in heat.

“good boy,” you nodded, sticking your fingers into his already open mouth. you and doppel had a long night ahead of you.

taglist: @lordragamuffin

[okiedokrie]

Dress

Summary: Watching your best friend get hot was a struggle, him not fucking you was harder.

Characters/Pairing: Best Friend!Lee Chan (Dino) x Fem!Reader

Genre: smut, porn without plot there is some if you squint

AU/Trope Info: Best Friends to Fucking, College AU

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Jealousy, some threats of body harm to self and to others mentioned, smut warnings under the cut

A/N: tagging @bitchlessdino and @the-boy-meets-evil as the main enablers of chan porn, thank you to @wonuvs for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex, marking, overstimulation, lmk if I missed anything!

Silence. Patience, pining, and anticipation. You think you might be going insane with how hard you're holding back from exploding in his face. You watch your best friend, Chan, talk to a girl, who in your opinion is too into whatever he's saying.

Like, okay, he's funny. But he's not squeeze his arm and throw your head back funny.

You're convinced if you stare hard enough you'll be able to burn a hole through the skull of this- objectively pretty- girl. Yeah, you can't get too jealous because she's gorgeous and you would've probably hated Chan if he fumbled her.

Still, that doesn't quench the burning hot jealousy you feel. The fire burning in your stomach being the catalyst for the events that followed that party. The unmistakable, ugly, green head of pure jealousy.

Chan, with his stupidly sculpted face that you've watched mature over the years, his perfect long black hair, his muscles pressing against his shirt, leather jacket, sittable nose-

You just think it's unfair how hot Chan has gotten and he still hasn't thought of fucking you. This isn't fair at all.

Just as you were about to successfully finish off the poor girl in various different ways, Chan finally noticed you stewing in your own envy; hands almost shaking from how hard you were holding back from him.

Chan excuses himself from the girl, much to your relief, to finally join your side again.

“Hey babe, you holding good here?” He says, with that signature, annoyingly charming, dopey smile of his.

“Chan, not gonna lie, I'm gonna fucking kill myself if you don't fuck me right now.” 

If Chan was surprised at your sudden horny outburst, he didn't show it. Ever the giver he is, he gives you one last dopey grin before leaning in to catch your lips in a searing kiss.

The force of the kiss caused you to drop the cup you were nursing, the warm beer spilling and soaking into the carpet, but you didn’t care—that was going to be Soonyoung's problem.

Your hands snake up from his firm chest tothe back of his neck, using it as leverage to pull yourself up to his height while pressing him to you.

You both separate from the kiss after remembering that you are, in fact, in public.

“Fuck, get me upstairs now.” You almost said in a whine, desperately clinging onto Chan like your life depended on it—and franky, it actually does.

He just giggles while gently guiding you upstairs to his room, a hand on your lower back while he guides you up the stairs. Entering his room, he stops to call for you,

“Y/n.” 

Your name on his lips made the world stop for a second. It was something simple—he's said it a thousand times—yet, the way he says it now makes you not want him as a best friend. Your name felt like a sleeper agent phrase that awakened a different level of horny in you that you didn’t think was possible.

Instead of replying, you opted to keep kissing him: his lips, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, everywhere your lips could reach.

He falls onto the bed with a soft rustling noise from the sheets, and climbing on top of him, you greedily grind your clothed cunt on his hardening cock under his jeans. 

“Oh fuck, don't do that, not in that dress. I'm gonna cum like in my pants like a loser.” He smiles at you, nose wrinkling in a light-hearted grimace. 

“Oh, Channie,” you started, “I only got this dress so you could take it off.” 

A pathetic moan leaves him, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his hips jump, his hard cock pressing onto you.

Your lips meet his again. He swallows your sighs of content when his bulge bumps against your throbbing clit, his hands running up your thighs, hot palms dragging up the length of them under the fabric of your dress.

Grabbing handfuls of your ass, Chan keeps the pace as you continue to grind on him, swallowing each other's noises of desperation. 

Chan holds you close to him as he flips you both over, rolling you on your back, his lips reluctantly detaching from yours to trail sloppy, wet kisses down the column of your throat, letting out quiet moans at the taste of it.

Sucking on a specific spot on your neck, Chan's fingers hook on the straps of your dress to shimmy it off of you,  causing a shiver to run down your spine. Now, almost naked in front of him, you paw at his clothes. He pants as he shrugs off his jacket and takes his shirt off, your bare chests pressing against each other's as your lips meet for another feverish kiss.

“Chan, get naked quicker, please- I– I need you inside me so badly.” You whimpered, not caring if you seemed too needy because soon after, Chan's jeans and boxers are on the floor, and his hard cock slaps on his abs, his tip red, angry, leaking for you. Just looking at it, you’re convinced that thing could easily reach up to your throat. 

Ripping your panties off, Chan gets on top of you. “Fuck, you're so wet, lemme hit, babe.” Laughing, you give him the go ahead. Then, his lips are on yours, kissing you as a very large cock tries to split you open.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the satisfying burn of his cock occupying all of your thoughts, successfully dicknotizing you.

Chan wastes no time to set a brutal pace, his heavy balls slapping against your ass while his pelvis deliciously hits your clit. Clawing at his sheets, you let out loud, unashamed moans, not caring if someone at the relatively calm frat party downstairs heard you.

“Fuck, do you know how long I've dreamt of this? Finally getting to fuck this pussy like it's mine? Are you mine, babe?” Chan babbled, pussy drunk and distracted by your tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts.

You're no better than him, already so out of it that you can’t even process the filthy confessions leaving Chan's mouth. Licking your lips, you tilt your head up to suck marks into his skin, burgundy bruises soon blooming as his hips stutter. 

The desperate slapping sounds of your groins meeting shift to shallow ones as you both near your climaxes, Chan letting out precious little gasps and cut-off moans with every thrust.

Not doing any better than him, you whine, dragging your nails down his back, angry red lines appearing on his skin at their wake.

Then, your highs hit you at the same time, white hot pleasure seeping into your bones and boiling under your skin, ears ringing and vision blurring. With a gasp, Chan spills his load deep inside your gummy walls, making your cunt clench around him, sticking to him like a second skin.

Still in that post-orgasm bliss, Chan's hips don't stop moving. stretching your pussy with his cock over and over again, making you both dizzily cling to each other, bodies shivering, mouths drinking in the other's whimpers.

Chan was rutting his hips into yours like he'd perish if he stopped, both of you cringing from over stimulation, Chan sobbing about how good being inside of you felt. Even after just orgasming not 10 seconds ago, he's still hard and desperate to dump another load into you.

You're not sure if your night would end, even after the 4th time he made you cum.

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 4)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: Vox is determined to win you over, no matter what. You just want your damn peace back.

Warnings: some mature themes (mention of sexual arousal)

<— Part 3 Chapter Index

Vox gripped the bathroom counter, staring at himself in the LED outlined mirror. "You've still got it," he said to himself firmly, lifting a clawed finger to point at his reflection. "Just be cool, man."

He relaxed his face into his signature grin, leaning an elbow against the counter. "Hey Y/n, how's everything? I was wondering if you wanted to go for coffee sometime?" He threw in a wink for good measure.

A second of silence passed before he shuddered violently, breaking composure. "Ugh, no, no. Focus, man. Okay," he repositioned himself, shoving his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. He cleared his throat, mustering up his best confident, devil-may-care expression. "Doll, what do you say we get out of here tonight, yeah? Just say the word and I'll get us a private room at your favorite restaurant."

His smile twitched. Shit. That wouldn’t work on you either.

This was ridiculous. He started trends on a whim, charmed the masses to hang off of his every word, and yet—here he was, rehearsing in front of a bathroom mirror like a prepubescent boy with a crush. And failing miserably too.

He shook his head to clear it, hands grasping at the sides of his monitor so tightly it displaced the pixels on his screen. "Think Vox, what did you do to make her like you the first time?"

But if he was being completely honest, it was actually you who made all of the first moves. You who captured his attention like a vice. You who reeled him in, hook, line and sinker. There was no grand courtship on his part. In fact, he couldn't even remember the exact moment he had started to fall for you. It was all so easy, natural, seamless. He didn't have to do anything except for be himself.

He pursed his lips, turning back to the mirror warily. And—whatever, fine, fuck it. Not like anyone could see him debase himself like this anyway.

Vox sighed, his smile dropping like an overused mask. The desperation and vulnerability that he hated so much creeped back into his eyes, making him tense.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm such a damn idiot and—I just..." he trailed off, before groaning, dropping his head in his hands. "Fuck, this is pathetic."

What was he doing? Wallowing in self pity like some lovesick loser? For fuck's sake, he wasn't just some spineless bottom feeder, he was Vox. CEO of Pride's largest conglomerate. People would kill to be in his position.

A shaky grin forced itself back on his face as he lifted his head. Fuck, enough of this. Nothing was going to get done if he just sat here and twiddled his thumbs all day. It was time to make a move.

With his mental armor back in place, he marched to your room like a man on a mission. He may or may not have sent a drone on your tail to find it, since everyone else in this damned hotel seemed hellbent on pretending that they had short term memory loss when he asked. It was still a prototype, unreleased to the public. A camera the size of an ant, for incognito purposes of course.

When he finally reached your door, he pasted a confident, charming smile on his face. One that he knew used to fluster you once upon a time.

"Just act natural," he chided himself quietly, taking a deep breath before knocking on your door.

There was a moment of silence, before some shuffling was heard, and then the handle was turned.

Vox froze as you opened the door, dressed in baggy sweats with your hair in a disarray. Your shirt had ridden to the side at some point, and the rumpled neckline was exposing the enticing dip of your collarbone. He felt his mouth go dry.

And suddenly it struck him how much he missed you. God, he'd missed you. Your comforting presence, your lively humor, even the small things like waking up next to you or seeing your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. And fuck, it hurt to have you just out of reach.

Your pretty mouth pulled down into a frown when you saw him, body language changing from relaxed to guarded in an instant.

Vox forced himself out of his trance, clearing his throat. This was his moment to shine. He'd practiced for this.

"Hey—" he started cheerfully, before the door was promptly shut in his face.

Vox blinked stupidly, standing in front of your room in shocked silence. Did—did you just—?

Frowning, he raised a hand to knock again. "Y/n?" He called out in confusion.

"Go away, asshole," your muffled voice came from somewhere on the other side of the door. "I don't want to talk to you."

"But—"

"I said beat it," you growled, before a glowing barrier materialized outside of your door. Fuck, if he touched that he knew he wouldn't stop bugging until tomorrow morning.

"Fine," he hissed under his breath, turning and storming away. So that was how you wanted to play it, huh? Fine, joke’s on you. He liked a challenge.

On the way back to his room though, he felt a familiar, pleasant tightness between his legs. Vox froze, slowly looking down at the noticeable tent in his pants in horror.

"Oh, come on."

****

The next few days could only be described as an intensely aggressive game of cat and mouse. He tailed your ass like a damn police dog, determined to get even a moment alone with you—but to his absolute irritation, you kept coming up with increasingly ridiculous ways to blow him off.

He invited you to take a walk with him after dinner? You suddenly developed a spontaneous stomach bug and now you were bedridden. He held a door open for you? You pushed open the other side of the double doors and maintained unimpressed eye contact with him the entire time. He couldn't even follow you with his micro-camera anymore, because you'd promptly discovered it and stabbed it to his bedroom door with a needle as a violent warning.

Nothing was going according to plan and he was growing more frustrated by the minute. What was the point of coming here if he saw you just as often as if he had stayed in his tower?

"How am I supposed to convince her to come back," his eye twitched, one night on a rant-filled phone call with Velvette. "If I can't fucking talk to her?"

Velvette looked at him like he was a dried piss stain on the wall. "Vox, do I look like I give a singular fuck about your dumpster fire of a love life?"

Ah yes, such encouraging commentary as always. Really, he didn't even know why he bothered to call if his abused ego was just going to get attacked while it was already rolling around in a fetal position.

"You're still on the call with me," he said pointedly.

Velvette rolled her eyes, scrunching her nose up at him in irritation. "Fine, since you're so pathetic, I guess I could spare some charity," she ignored his scoff, continuing without a hitch. "You need to fucking lay off, stop trying so damn hard to get her attention. It’s giving desperate and creepy."

"I'm not—"

"Yes you are," Velvette glared. "Listen. If you don't want to end up permanently dumped, you need to compromise. Stop acting on your emotions like a toddler, you can't fucking afford that right now. And neither can we," she grumbled the last part.

Vox dug his claws into the bedding he was lying on, tearing up the soft material. The thought of giving up on you physically pained him, but...this wouldn't really be giving up, right? Velvette was suggesting a temporary ceasefire, a way to make you let your guard down, which might not be such a bad idea. It was more like...a strategic redirection of his efforts. Something that would benefit him in the long run.

He needed to build up the trust you'd lost in him. Slowly, bit by bit, until you accepted his feelings again.

The gravity of the situation was daunting. Something told him that this was his last chance, that if he fucked up one more time, you really would be gone for good.

He couldn't afford to lose you like that. It would fucking break him.

A loud crash sounded in the background on the other line, jolting him out of his thoughts.

Velvette's face drew into an aggravated sneer as she turned around. "For fuck's sake. What the fuck is it no—"

The line went dark, cutting off the call.

Vox sighed, throwing his phone blindly somewhere on the bed as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

Sleep evaded him that night, but in its place he started to devise a new strategy. Velvette was right, if he kept pushing, he would only drive you away. It was time to change his approach, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was...time to put his pride on the backburner.

Because he could live without his pride, but fuck—he didn't even want to think about what an eternity without you would be like. Besides, it was only until all of this was over and you came back home. He just...had to be patient.

****

After taking a few days to regroup, Vox was now more than ready to put his plan into action.

He’d rehearsed an embarrassing amount of times in the bathroom mirror, popped a breath mint, chugged an energy drink, and slapped himself in the face for good measure. Not necessarily in that order.

Now, in the late hours of the morning, he waited patiently for everyone to filter out before making his move, quietly cornering you in the kitchen.

You were sitting in the far corner, hunched over a steaming mug just like he knew you would be. It was something you'd been doing since he first met you, always reserving twenty minutes after breakfast to enjoy a second cup. He didn't even need to look at the contents to know that there was only a single cream, but enough sugar to make an elephant go into cardiac arrest.

That precious information would forever be saved to his hard drive.

For a long moment, he just stood there like a certified creep, admiring the familiar scene with painful longing. You hadn't noticed him yet, so your expression was still the vision of perfect bliss, eyes closed with a slight uptick to the corner of your mouth. And suddenly, he wasn't in this shitty hotel anymore. The retro kitchen transformed into a sleek modern design, the white walls melting to light blue. It was one of the few lazy mornings both of you were able to spend together, and—

"What do you think you're doing?" Your irritated voice shattered his fantasy like a pane of rose-tinted glass.

"Ah, Y/n!" His grin slotted back into place like a puzzle piece. Fuck, he hadn't even said a proper sentence to you, and you were already looking at him like he was a piece of shit someone forgot to flush down a public toilet. He had to act fast or you'd walk out again. "Funny running into you like this," he chuckled, hiding his fidgeting hands behind his back. Electricity crackled between them. "Actually, I was wondering if—"

"No," you said sharply, cutting him off.

"I—What?" His grin twitched.

"Whatever it is that you're going to say, no," you snapped, turning your back to him for emphasis.

Vox went silent for a moment. Tone it down, he repeated in his head. Stick to the plan.

"Look," he started, softening his tone. "I realize that I haven't exactly been," he grimaced. "Fair to you."

You laughed bitterly. "Understatement of the decade, asshole."

"I'm sorry," he sighed, watching carefully as your shoulders tensed in surprise. "I'll stop, if that's what you want. I won't ask you out anymore or bother you with stupid, meaningless shit."

"But?" You said quietly.

"But I still want to be...friends with you," the word left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it with a smile.

He chanced a quick glance at your face, and—well you looked like you didn't really buy it, but at least you didn't look like you wanted to kill him and dispose of his body in a ditch anymore.

"Alright," you said, after a long period of skeptical silence, your eyes unreadable. "I’ll hold you to it, then."

He closed his eyes. "Please, just consider—" he froze, processing your words.

You said yes? Fuck, you said yes!

He cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah, absolutely. Totally. Makes sense."

He caught the briefest flash of amusement in your eyes, before you turned to bring your empty mug to the sink.

"So, uh," he started giddily. Fuck rein it in man, slow down. "What are you doing later?"

“I’m busy today,” you shut him down immediately, making him deflate at your sharp tone. Then you paused for a second, seeming to contemplate something. “Well actually,” you said lightly, making him perk up again. “There is something you can join me for, but it’s a little…out of your depth.”

“Oh really? Try me,” he smirked confidently. As if anything would stop him from finally spending time with you today.

A vindictive spark suddenly flared in your eyes, making him hesitate. "Group therapy and trust exercises," you said smugly, and a jumble of odd noises quickly glitched from his head, his screen flashing briefly to show a giant, red exclamation point. "But since you're too busy with that billion dollar company and all, I thought you wouldn't be interested," you smiled sweetly.

Oh. You conniving little shit. You had him cornered.

Looks like he wasn’t the only one doing his homework.

“How f-f-fun,” he forced out, the words literally tasting like ash on his tongue.

“It is,” you nodded genuinely, making him double take. “I actually quite enjoy it.”

Vox pressed his lips together into a fine line, dread steadily welling in his chest as he realized that yes, you were actually serious. Sweet fuck.

For a second, Vox contemplated making a strategic retreat and calling it a day. He eyed the door behind him longingly.

But no, he couldn’t afford to back down from your little game just yet. If this was how you wanted to raise the stakes, fine. Bring it on.

Before he could lose his nerve, Vox mustered up a pained smile. "Actually," he said, making you raise a brow. "I'd like to give it a shot."

"Really?" You said incredulously.

"Yeah?" His grin twitched. "Why not?"

****

<— Part 3 Chapter Index

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah @yellowsubiesdance @dirk-strides @justaspectatorforfandomarts @harmoira @sunnyslug @gum-iie @lady-valtieri @mit-suri @whatelsecouldgowrong @sillysimplysilky @eternalera @aoiyx @hazellight11 @hopefully-not @tsuvvy @imcryinginemo @dinorawrss @rekoloid @ayesha-eroticax3 @sle3pyh3ad2 @l0verboyxoxo1111 @lucasisstupid @lu-ferri12 @fandom-queen37 @ilunapb @skyeliteratures @shannoncosplay @da-disappointment @memospacexx @crazyforbarnes

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hey 😊

Can I request an Obanai X reader drabble where he first sees reader being violent ever and the cause for that is someone saying a mean comments about obanai, and reader just goes absolutely crazy? Sorry if it doesn't make any sense. To be honest i'm dying for obanai content so if you would write anything featuring him, i'd be happy.

Wishing you a great day! 💜

„What was that?“

Your jaw clenches, darkened eyes staring into the distance. It’s not a secret to you or even Obanai himself that people talk behind his and everyone’s back. But hearing it with your own ears, those nasty words leaving those little demon slayer’s mouths.

They freeze right in place when your dangerously firm and steady voice reaches their ears.

Except one for them.

“What part exactly didn’t you understand, loser? Was it when I called that pathetic hashira a cold-blooded snake or the part I said he’s just waiting to betray the whole demon slayer corps?”, the boy jeers back at you and earns nervous laughter around him.

Your lover was always misunderstood. His cold appearance that is supposed to keep him and his actually caring heart safe. His face that stays hidden because he cannot stand his own scars, his appearance.

But questioning his loyalty when Iguro Obanai would risk his damn life for every single one of these losers? No, you can’t bear or accept that.

Faster than this pathetic pile of a man is even able to stumble a step back, you unleash your katana, grab his collar and press the blade against his throbbing neck.

"Say that again, and I’ll make sure you’ll regret it for the rest of your miserable life. Obanai’s loyalty runs deeper than anything you could ever understand, and if you ever dare to question it again, you'll find out just how wrong you are. You're not even worth the dirt on his boots, so watch your mouth before I shut it for you—permanently."

“As if I’d fear a pathetic little woman. Come on, get that blade off my face and fight me with your bare hands”, he presses out.

You don’t even give him time to react. In the split of a second you send a punishing blow to his midsection, knocking the wind out of him before he can even raise his dirty hands. The boy stumbles back, but you don't let up. Not for the shit he just talked. A quick, sharp kick to his knee sends him crashing to the ground whining.

Grabbing him by the collar, you lift him off the ground, holding him in the air with ease. His eyes widen in shock, stare at you through a glossy layer of tears.

“P-Plase stop, I-I…I didn’t mean it like that!”

“What exactly didn’t you mean?”

You slam him into the ground with enough force to rattle the room.

“When you said he’s pathetic and cold-hearted?”

His body crumples under the impact.

“Or when you questioned his loyalty towards the demon slayer corps?”

A groan escapes his split lips.

“I’ll mop the floor with you-“

The second Obanai enters the room, the atmosphere changes in an instant, forces your heart to skip a beat and mouth to shut.

“Seems I arrived just in time. Why are you beating up other corps members, (y/n)?”, he questions calmly.

You swallow hard, take in his gorgeous sight as he steps into the scene like a god.

“I was just taking care of the trash”, you comment dryly while sending a deadly glare at the boy who simply stumbles out of the room.

“Get lost, all of you but (y/n)”, he instructs sharply.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Let’s just say I took care of you with my own methods”, you purr, hand gently stroking up and down his arm.

“Are you trying to distract me?”

“I might. Does it work?”

Within the split of a second, he pulls you into his inviting arms.

“Maybe.”

[blegh-110]

ii. "you told me i was pretty when i looked like a mess" | Sam Monroe

Pairing: older brother's best friend!Sam Monroe x fem!reader

Summary: Best friend’s older brother!Sam Monroe who you could always count on when you were 13 and he was 15.

Warnings: None

Word count: 976

Next Part

Your hands shook as you applied some tinted lip balm, the tube almost slipping out of your hand because of the sweat forming. 

It was the night of the school’s winter dance, and you were asked to go with a boy who was in your Spanish class. He sat in front of you and always asked to copy your homework, and you’d oblige because every single time he’d say “you’re amazing” and “what what I do without you?” And the occasional tease, “these better be right, or i'm gonna have to ask someone else.” 

It felt too good to be true when he asked you to go with him to the dance, but he was just so nice to you when you saw him. In the end, it was too good to be true when you overheard his friends ask him why he chose you and not the girl he actually liked. 

“She’s been letting me copy her homework, I thought this could be like a ‘thank you’.” 

“But it’s fucking awkward, none of us know her, our dates don’t either, and she’s not really talking. She's just there.”  

You did feel out of place the entire time. Apparently the girl he liked was friends with the other guys dates, they all ran in the same circle and you were the odd one out. While they had their inside jokes and well established friendships, you barely knew your own date. And he didn’t really bother to include you. So you did end up just sitting and listening and wishing you could partake. 

The second you found out his true reasoning to ask you out, the tears came and you wanted to go home. But how? Your date’s mother was the one to drop everyone off. Your brother was out with his girlfriend, and you knew he’d be pissed if he had to leave and pick up his crying, little sister. And the last thing you wanted was to get bombarded with questions from your parents if you did go home so early. 

You called the only person you could think of. You weren’t sure what the plan was, but you just didn’t want to be alone. 

And just seeing him, someone who you feel safe in the presence of, you run into his arms and let the tears flow. It was hard to make out from your watery explanation, but he understood what happened and held you just a little tighter. Despite his anger, there was nothing he could do. They were still in middle school and Sam was a sophmore in high school, he’d look like the loser if he went inside and beat up a kid two years younger than him. 

“Oh, god.” You said as you wiped away your tears only to see the blackness from your mascara. You could only wonder how pathetic you look. This was supposed to be a special night, and it had barely begun before it turned into the worst night of your life so far. 

“Stop that, you still look pretty.” He wipes your cheeks with his long sleeve, trying to wipe away your mascara but really just dragging it around. 

“Thanks.” You whisper, not really believing it.  

“No, I’m serious. You got that kind of Courtney Love-Hole look, y’look cool.” He leaned back to get a better look at you and smiled. You loved when he smiled, when he was happy and sweet, especially towards you. And in the moonlight, he was even more handsome.

With it being winter and cold outside, Sam gave you his jacket and slung his arm around you as he began to walk you home. You thought you could die at that very moment and be the happiest girl in the world. 

“So what should I do to whats-his-stupid-fucking-face?” He knew wasn’t going to do anything to the kid, but he wanted to lift your mood. You smiled and shook your head. Honestly, you wanted nothing to do with him but you played along.

“Just punch him real hard in the face, I want it to be swollen and ugly.” 

“Yeah, yeah that’s good. And let’s take his money, I’ll- no listen to me,” he interrupted himself at your snort and continued, “I’ll kick the back of his knees, hold him down, then you take the five dollars out of his pocket, got it?” 

You giggled as you imagined it, kicking the back of his knees. You saw him do it to your brother after he slapped the sunburn on your shoulder and that was the most you had ever laughed. You’ll never forget your brother’s shock and pointed finger to the smaller slap mark on his back, “she did it to me first, look!”

“Nah, she wouldn’t do that.” 

“And we’ll get hot chocolate with the money.” And he pointed to your favorite cafe and walked towards it. 

“Sam, wait, I don’t have any money on me right now.”

“That’s okay, it’s on me. Something good has to come out of tonight.” He dragged you to the building, and in there he bought you a hot chocolate with extra milk. Which was something you appreciated because you burned your tongue really bad drinking your hot chocolate a few weeks ago and he saw. 

What followed was some talking about movies, music, and embarrassing stories(your favorite one being that he fell off his chair in class because he was leaning backwards). Then a trip to the park where you two spun on the merry-go-round until you couldn’t see straight or stop laughing. 

And when he finally took you home, he gave you a short peck to your head and wished you a good night. It was that moment you believed he liked you as well, and you dreamed of what it would be like to be boyfriend/girlfriend with him.

banner by @dollywons

[riri0000i]

Choso had always been the easy target. Since kindergarten. He was mentally weak, anti-social, and never responded to any provocation. Girls called him creepy, a freak, while boys raised their hands at him as a "joke". He spent mornings at school trying to not be noticed by people like you, without any success, of course. He had no one to hang out with and the only thing he did outside school was taking care of his siblings and pulling all-nighters in front of the computer, talking to the only people who could understand his loneliness.

A real loser.

" Oops, my bad Choso!" You chimed with a fake guilty face. Your friends were all laughing, some even taking pictures with their smartphones. Choso didn't move an inch from his chair, letting you pour the probably expired milk carton on his head.

" Hey! Don't frame me with this creep too." You said, noticing that a friend of yours was also taking pictures of you.

" It's not like the teacher cares anyway. " She responded. She was right: teachers gained nothing from defending students like Choso. Your school was one of those elite schools, mainly attended by people like you: rich and mean, with disgusting pastimes like making other people's lives miserable. And then there were those like Choso, who had earned the scholarship by studying.

" I know, but today I forgot to put my lashes on." Your answer made your friends laugh again and you joined them. Before class began you looked at Choso, drenched in milk. You met his tired eyes, as soon as he noticed your gaze he looked down. His weakness pissed you off.

“ Pathetic dog.”

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

The chemistry professor was explaining biomolecules, there were maybe five students who were actually listening to him. You were not one of them: you were scrolling on your phone and the few times you looked up you watched how your friends sitting next to Choso tormented him, by kicking at his chair or throwing pieces of paper at him. Nothing new.

" For this topic I would like you to work in pairs by doing a project. I will select the pairs based on your grades." The teacher said before clearing his throat for the umpteenth time.

Shit, this is the worst.

You had seen the scoreboard from the last chemistry test and you were last while Choso... He was first, just like in any other subject. The teacher began to list the pairs and, as you predicted, you ended up with that loser. When Choso heard your name he felt his stomach turn in anxiety, he feared you more than anyone else. To him you were simply cruel. There was no sign, however slight, of kindness in your soul. To make it worse was your pretty face which, at first glance, was impossible to associate with your awful personality. Choso would be lying if he said he didn't find you attractive. Maybe you were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on.

" Turn in the project by next week." The teacher concluded before the bell rang.

" Can't believe that you have to do this with that creep!" Your friend laughed.

After a sigh: " Fuck it, I hate that teacher. Bet he did it on purpose." You said with a pissed tone. You noticed that Choso was watching you. You got up from your chair with another annoyed sigh and positioned yourself in front of his desk: hands on your hips and a fake smile on your lips, the usual one you used to make before saying a cruel comment.

" I don't want to be seen hanging around with you, much less in my house." You spat.

Choso replied in his insecure, shaky voice: " We can do it at my house... I warn you I have brothers so—

" Okay. See you later."

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

Number not Saved : 602. Apartment building X. Near Y station.

You : I'm taking the train rn.

Choso was nervous. It was his first time having a girl at home. Fortunately his brothers were staying late at school that day. He quickly took a shower, getting rid of the smell of milk that earned him several stares by strangers. Being the loser he was, he asked for advice on Reddit to avoid being overly weird.

Knock Knock.

Choso jumped at the knocks on the door, interrupting his reading “How to Look More Sociable in 3 Steps”. You arrived a little late, not expecting the train to take so long.

" Come in..." He said, opening the door for you. You didn’t even say hello, you just sighed, as if you were forced to do the hardest work job on earth. As you looked around (It was the first time you had seen such a small apartment) Choso couldn’t look away from your body. You were so cute in that little outfit. It was the first time he had seen you without your uniform outside school. He would never admit it but Choso stalkled your instagram account several times (resulting in messy erections every time you posted bikini photos). The miniskirt you were wearing was surely going to distract him. He felt something twitching in his pants. Face instantly pink in embarrassment.

Oh. Oh no. No. God, no.

“ Are we doing this stupid project or what?” You asked, breaking the silence. Lucky him, he was wearing loose clothes. You didn’t notice anything.

“ Oh. Yeah… Follow me.” He responded quietly, his body tensing up. You noticed how Choso loses some of his loser appearance without the school uniform. He wore black sweatpants, a baggy sweater and his usual glasses. If he was one of your friends you might have complimented his look.

" Uhh.. You can sit on the bed… Or on the chair, you decide." He said in his usual passive tone. You huffed, sitting on his bed. It smelled like him. You were quite disappointed by the normality of his room (yes, you were expecting an otaku room: full of action figures, bodypillows and posters).

That miniskirt…I bet she did it on purpose. The sight of a pretty girl like you on his bed made Choso’s mouth go dry. He hated you but at the same time it was impossible to not admire your beauty.

" Hope you don't expect me to do anything about that project, do you, Choso?" You said with a smile on your lips. Obviously, Choso knew he would do most, if not all, of the work. He nodded, muttering something to himself. Before you could add any mean comment Choso sat down and started typing on his keyboard. Your initial idea was to find something weird, or childish, in his room and bully him but it was all so… Normal. With the excuse of going to the bathroom you explored the house.

Oh. One of his brothers is Itadori Yuuji? You looked at one of the photos hanging in the hallway. Although he didn't attend your school, Itadori Yuuji was quite popular. And he was popular for good reasons: athletic, generous and nice. You returned to Choso's room, who seemed focused on his work. You looked at him. It annoyed you to admit it but—he had a nice face. Cute, if you had to be honest. But he was unable to maintain a good self-image: he stuttered and couldn't keep eye contact, dark circles partly hidden by the nerdy glasses he wore, hair loose and messy and his posture screamed "I'm weak.”

Ugh. How can Choso be related to Itadori?

After a while: " I'm getting bored." You said as you approached Choso. His heart missed a beat, the last time you had said those words one of your friends put out a cigarette on Choso's palm just to entertain you.

" Uh, umm.. I doubt there's anything fun here..."

" Don't you have any games on your computer?" Choso was taken aback by your question.

" …Y-Yes?" He answered but Choso was sure you had other intentions, like finding another way to bully him. Standing up, you placed yourself beside him, leaning against his chair. Choso could smell a sugary scent from your clothes and hair, it was intoxicating. You watched how his long fingers trembled.

Oh, his hands are so big.

" Uh, uhmm y-you can sit here… I'll get another chair— Before Choso could add another word you sat on his lap. His body froze in surprise. Your ass on his crotch. You rested your back on his muscular chest, waiting for him to start playing. How was he supposed to respond to this?

" Oh, I like this game." You commented as if nothing was wrong.

“ R-Really..? I’ll p,play it then…”

He’s already hard.

To hold the controller Choso had to practically hug you. The way he would struggle to stay still and whisper an "I'm sorry" every time he accidentally touched you was so funny to you. But it was even more fun to rub your warm pussy against his erected sex, feeling his hot breath against the skin of your neck.

“ D-Don’t … P-Please, don’t move like that..” He nervously gulped. Because of that miniskirt Choso could sense the slightest movement you made against his body and thanks to that miniskirt you could feel how Choso's erection throbbed against your panties.

“ Like what?” You teased, shifting your weight again. Choso's body was trembling. You could feel his heartbeat racing. He was squeezing the controller to maintain his calm, feeling his inside burning at the softness of your body against his crotch. The miniskirt you were wearing was not helping at all, allowing Choso the sight of your lacy pink panties. It made his head dizzy and his erection harder, almost painful. How can a girl like you be so naughty?

" I.. S-Stop teasing me." He finally spoke up, trying to sound angry. His voice shaky and weak. You smiled and finally turned your body, now face-to-face with him. The movement resulted in another rubbing against his cock, now covered with a layer of sticky precum. Choso's face was red with embarrassment, his eyes glossy and he tried his best to hold back little moans by biting his lip. He was a mess.

" Choso~" Having you in front of him was wayy worse. You were so pretty and so close , your soft tits pressed against his sweaty chest. On your face that mischievous, almost cruel, smile. Your cheeks pink and your breath left shivers on his skin. His tip poked your wet cunt. You could feel he was big.

Maybe eight inches? It’s always the quiet ones.

" I, I can't take it anymore, p-please..." He whined like a little puppy. You gently moved a few strands of hair behind his ear and took off his glasses, throwing them on the floor. Shit, he was really handsome like that. You kissed him. Choso’s first kiss. Your lips soft and hot, leaving trails of a cherry gloss on his. He moaned inside your mouth, unable to follow your lewd rhythm. Your scent, your taste and your touch were making him obsessed, resulting in a messy and incoherent kiss.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is too much. He reached his limit. The same second you tried to reach the tip of his cock with your fingers he came, sobbing your name and leaving a cum stain on his pants.

“ I,I’m s—sorry…” His voice breathless, dick still twitching in pleasure. He continued to apologize with teary eyes, without knowing how erotic that scene was to you.

I want to fuck him.

[arminsumi]

SHOW-OFF

↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader

Love sick Suguru showing off during a basketball game to impress you, but it ends with him in the nurse's office with a bloody nose.

2k

Note : my mind wanted to write requests but then my fingers wrote this instead... 😅

Summary : Suguru is a college heart throb that tries so very hard to grab your attention, but he finally earns it at the worst time — during an awry basketball game, when he's on the floor with a bloody nose.

Warnings : pining, fistfight, bloody nose, some angst, suggestive joke

Playme : play date

🍒 More from Jay : GETO works / JJK works / Oct. reqs open

Suguru Geto is, theoretically and practically, the guy that every girl in this college wants. He knows this. He's experienced this. He's got endless admirers. Eyes are always on him when he walks down the corridor.

So it baffles him when you don't pay attention to him. You're a challenge, and that ropes him right in.

"Haha, she walked right past you?" Satoru laughs. They're loitering in the corridor after classes.

"She walked right past me." Suguru nods, emphasizing dramatically until he turns it into a joke — but it isn't a joke, he's genuinely irked.

During class, he pouts like he's a teenage boy again, and scribbles into the margins of his notes;

私は彼女の心の片隅にもいません。 I'm not even in the back of her mind.

He's just as bad as his best friend when it comes to seeking and basking in the attention of doting girls — if not worse. Satoru is slowly weaning off the drug of popularity as he begins attending college, but Suguru is still stuck in the odd transitional stage.

There's a lighthearted basketball competition being held amongst the burly sporty boys one day, and sitting atop the bleachers Suguru spots your face. His eyes light up, he observes you from down on the court.

The squirming you do when you sit. The way your head tilts as you speak to your friend. The curling smile you make at their jokes.

I want to make you squirm when you sit next to me.

Why can't you look at me with the same adoration?

God, if you'd smile at me like that I'd fall to pieces.

Suguru's brows are furrowed so deeply that Satoru and Shoko ask if he's brooding about you again. And sure enough, he is.

"She's just sitting there." he emphasizes annoyedly.

Satoru places a comedic, sympathetic hand on Suguru's shoulder. "Don't worry, once you start bouncing balls all over the court she'll have to look your way."

"Yeah... she's gonna be completely star struck by me playing a stupid basketball game... " Suguru scoffs sarcastically. "Why the hell did you convince me to play again...?" he mutters under his breath.

Shoko hands back Satoru's glasses, "She might be into sporty guys. So give it your all, you pathetic loser." she jokes and heads off, trotting up the bleachers.

So Suguru determinedly gives it his all, never fumbling, never tripping, never mucking up his shots. He becomes a panting, sweaty mess, and in one quick moment as he's wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his forearm, he glances at you and you glance in his general direction, but not really at him.

Did she look at me, or am I imagining things?

His heart is already racing from the intensive exercise of running back and forth on a court, but the thought of you actually watching him as he plays makes his heart thump.

The sound of squeaking shoes ricochets off the walls and polished floors. Suguru loses focus for a moment, thinking hard about you as he stares at the bleachers, and then someone collides with him. He's caught so off-guard that he just topples over and his body meets with the hard floor.

"—What the fuck!"

"—Suguru? Why are you just standing around? The hell were you staring at just now?"

You and Suguru make brief eye contact and it sets him completely off balance, both physically and mentally.

Fuck fuck fuck, she's actually looking over. Why now?

Satoru helps Suguru to his feet, the whistle blows.

"Seriously, what the hell are you staring at? First Satoru doesn't pass the ball to me, now you fall over like a dainty princess—"

"Sukuna, keep speakin' to my boy like that and I'll cut your tongue out."

"Satoru, your boy is the reason we're losing; he's too busy being a fucking show-off for his crush on the bleachers." Sukuna has no shame and points in your general direction.

"This isn't a serious game, why the fuck are you getting so riled up!"

Suguru feels this sense of mortification stemming from the center of his chest as you finally, finally pay attention to him.

Oh my god. Look away. Look away. Look away.

"Sukuna, you're such a fucking cunt." Suguru spits slowly, unexpectedly.

Sukuna blinks at him incredulously. "... the fuck did you just call me?"

"I called you a cunt."

Poor boy Suguru, he's strong and capable of avoiding punches, but when he sees you coming down from the bleachers and approaching to the left at the same time as Sukuna's arm pulls back for a punch, he pays attention to you and that unfortunately results in a fist colliding with his pretty boy face.

The coach is quick to pry Satoru off of Sukuna, it's a chaotic moment.

Amidst the chaos, there's you. There's Suguru. The latter on the floor, splayed and softly groaning in pain, watching his best friend getting into a fistfight through. And the prior coming to kneel at his side, asking this half-conscious boy if he's okay.

Suguru squints at you, feels your hand reach out to wipe the blood dribbling over his lips, and falls in love in the midst of chaos.

I'm alive, but it feels like I'm in heaven staring at an angel.

You and him are deep in a moment, enclosed in a bubble that's separate from reality.

Satoru is pried off Sukuna by coach Fushiguro.

The bubble pops.

A panting, blue-eyed boy returns to his best friend, paying you a short glance of curiosity before bending down at Suguru's side like you are, "Suguru, you good?" he huffs.

"Yeah... need an ice pack..." Suguru mumbles. He sounds and looks dazed, and not just because he sustained a hit from a burly boy like Sukuna.

"Let's go to the nurse's office." you say, your voice carrying through Suguru's ears and finding a pathway into his soul.

Satoru nods, fangy teeth showing as he seethes and shakes his scuffed hand to alleviate the prickling pain across his knuckles. "Yeah, let's. C'mon, big boy, upsy-daisy."

You're make a cute attempt to help Satoru pull Suguru to his feet, even though he's a skyscraper to you.

In the nurse's office, he's just an uncomposed, love sick college boy. The complete opposite of his usual composed, nonchalant demeanor.

When he's alone with a girl, he usually knows exactly what to do with his words but with you they just fall haphazardly out of his stupid mouth, as if he's been rendered an uncouth loser in your company. In your company, up close, actually right here in your presence, in your air. Not distantly observing you in class, or as you're sat atop the bleachers, or as you walk down the corridors.

She's right here.

"Uh... so..." he begins, eager to talk to you at last.

"You sit next to me in professor Lin's class, right?" you interrupt.

He completely malfunctions. "I— y— yyyeah, I think so— I mean I do. Yeah, I do."

"Bangs guy?" you ask.

He groans and nods. You laugh.

"Yeah... bangs guy. Fucking hell, why has that become my identity in this damn school..." he rubs his eyes, then looks down at his knees.

"I mean, because you are the bangs guy." you say.

He's about to smile, then you add; "The hot bangs guy that sits next to me in class — sounds like the title of a romcom, doesn't it?" you joke.

Suguru widens his eyes, and desperately tries to seem unphased after you just flippantly called him hot.

"Yeah... haha..." he nods, voice daring to crack.

You continue your joke, "There could be a spinoff: "The hot bangs guy that stole my heart on the bloody basketball court" or something."

"These titles are getting longer..." he chuckles, avoiding eye contact.

His heart pumps harder.

Holy shit, is she flirting with me? Like, actually? That's so fucked. I'm so lucky. Oh Sukuna, thank you for making this possible, you fucking cunt.

"The hot bangs guy that banged m— no okay, I'll stop before this gets inappropriate, haha."

"Oh, I don't mind. Please, continue." he laughs properly now.

The smoothness is such an act, and you can tell; his dorkiness shines through. He's in love like a loser.

"The hhh—haha—the hot bangs guy that— that banged me." you say through giggles.

Satoru walks into the nurse's office with vending machine snacks.

"What's goin' on here?" he smirks at the two of you and flashes his eyes at Suguru.

"Just stupidity." you respond.

"Yeah..." Suguru smiles.

"Suguru... you have blood all over your lips. It's so hot." Satoru murmurs sarcastically.

"Oh, thanks babe. I'm going for the "just got beat up" look."

"Uhh... more like the "Sukuna's punching bag" look, you mean?" you joke.

"Wow! We just met and you're already humiliating me like this?"

You smile at him.

Satoru flits his eyes between you two, feeling the flirty tension in the atmosphere between you and Suguru. He decides to be the catalyst, because god knows Suguru is too hopeless right now to ask you out himself.

"So... when are you two going on a date?" he asks, wiggling his brows.

"Haha, what?" you give him a look.

Suguru laughs awkwardly and gives Satoru a look, too. A murderous one. "Yeah... what?"

"C'mon, the chemistry between you two is off the charts. I already feel like a third wheel. No, but seriously — you two are such losers for each other, you should go on a da—"

"— Satoru is a jokester, sorry. Ignore him." Suguru interrupts, feeling a flaming embarrassment in his chest.

"Ahah... it's okay." you nod awkwardly.

Satoru's eyes flicker upwards in annoyance, "Hopeless losers..." he mutters under his breath. "Can't say I didn't try."

You excuse yourself to take a sudden call, smiling at Suguru as you leave and so that's all he can see in his mind; the image of your smile.

He groans when you finally leave, and falls back dramatically on the cot. He drapes an arm over his eyes.

Satoru breaks the silence with a pitying whistle, "Dude, she's sooo not into you."

"Thanks, Satoru."

"I tried playing cupid, I really thought it would work." Satoru clicks his tongue.

"Well, sorry but you're shit at your job, Cupid. Anyways... I thought she was flirting with me for a second there... but I think it was all jokes..."

"Aw..."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I like her so fucking bad.

The poor boy replays all the scenes of your interactions with him thus far, and pauses on the moments where he thinks he was awkward. He files the best parts; you kneeling at his side, you wiping his blood off his nose, you joking suggestively with him, you "flirting" with him, you smiling at him.

"Suguru? You gonna spend your life in the nurse's office, or are we gonna go cheer your sorry ass up in Shibuya?" Satoru asks, stretching as he spoke. The afternoon light streams in through the shuttered windows.

"... yeah."

Satoru switches to a serious tone, watching Suguru move lethargically from his resting position on the cot. "I know you like her a lot, but don't get too bummed out... maybe this is just the beginning of something good."

Suguru pauses, contemplates, then rises to his feet. They open the door and leave the nurse's office.

"... or maybe it's just another thing in my life that's not meant to be..."

He looks so glum, and then suddenly his features light up when he hears your familiar voice calling his name. You're standing in the corridor, coming up to him.

"... hey, are you free on Saturday?"

His mind blanks.

"Free for... what?"

"A date?"

"Oh..."

"...?" you look at him, expecting an answer.

"Y—yeah, Saturday's cool."

You smile genuinely at him, and he snapshots it in his mind's eye.

"M'kay, I'll text you the time and place. See you tomorrow."

And then you say your goodbyes, Suguru stutters and chokes up a bit. He gives Satoru an open-mouthed look.

"No fucking wayyy..."

"Damn. You should go thank Sukuna. His magical fist made all this possible, after all." Satoru jokes.

Suguru nods, "Yeah, him and his magical fist. Hey... can you pinch me?"

"You're not dreaming, Suguru."

"I don't trust it. Pinch me."

Satoru pinches Suguru's cheek.

"See? Not dreaming."

"Wow... shit alright... oh my god... yo... I got a date on Saturday. I... OH MY FUCKING GOD." He smiles a big ass smile and does a half-spin, "I HAVE A FUCKING DATE WITH HER ON SATURDAY."

"Fucking dork." Satoru chuckles.

"A fucking dork with a date." Suguru rasps excitedly.

He wraps an arm around Satoru's shoulders as they head down the corridor, "Thanks for convincing me to play basketball, Satoru."

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[chuuya-apologist]

It's actually so crazy to me that I scare people because I just desperately want friends and would do next to anything to get them

You do not know the lengths I would go to have friends.

[reaper2187]

Regina George x masc female reader

The halls of North Shore High were a battlefield, with you standing alone amidst a sea of pink and designer labels. Regina George, the undisputed queen bee, had cast her icy gaze upon you, her entourage of loyal followers swarming around her like a pack of hyenas. You wore cargo pants and a plain T-shirt, an outsider in their glittering, superficial world.

You had been tolerating Regina's cruel barbs for months, but today, something snapped within you. A surge of defiance coursed through your veins as you met her eyes. Her perfect façade faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of surprise.

'Oh, look who it is,' Regina purred, her voice dripping with venom. 'The tomboy has decided to show her face. Lost your way to the boys' locker room, darling?'

A cruel laughter erupted from her minions, but to your astonishment, you found yourself standing tall. You retorted, your voice steady. 'At least the boys there have some respect.'

Regina's eyes narrowed dangerously. 'Respect? From some pathetic loser girl?'

'From boys who are actually interested in getting to know me, not just using me as a fashion accessory,' you countered.

Regina's face twisted into a mask of rage. 'How dare you challenge me? You know your place, Y/N.'

But this time, you refused to back down. 'My place is not here, playing your games. I'm not interested in being anyone's puppet.'

A gasp rippled through the crowd. No one had ever spoken to Regina with such defiance. The queen bee's throne seemed to tremble beneath her.

'You're nothing but a pathetic wannabe,' she hissed. 'You'll never be like us.'

'I don't want to be like you,' you replied. 'You're shallow, cruel, and insecure. I have friends who actually care about me, and I'm proud to be myself.'

Regina's eyes flashed with fury as she realized she had lost control of the situation. Her entourage, sensing her weakness, began to back away.

'You can't hide behind your masculinity forever,' she spat. 'Everyone knows you're a fake.'

'I'm not hiding anything,' you said, meeting her gaze with unwavering determination. 'I'm who I am. And if you don't like it, you can just deal with it.'

Regina's entourage slowly dispersed, leaving her alone with you in the crowded hallway. For a moment, there was only silence. Then, Regina broke into a mocking laugh.

'You think you've won,' she said. 'But this is just the beginning. I'll make your life a living hell until you're begging to be my slave again.'

'I'm not afraid of you,' you replied. 'You can try all you want, but you'll never break me.'

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Regina standing alone in the center of the hallway. For the first time in her reign, the mean girl felt something resembling doubt.

The next day, Regina tried her best to make good on her threat. She spread malicious rumors about you, isolated you from your friends, and even threatened to ruin your life. But this time, her tactics had lost their power. You had grown stronger and more resilient, and you were no longer willing to be her victim.

You stood up to her, fought back against her lies, and refused to let her break you. And slowly but surely, Regina's power began to crumble. Her followers abandoned her, one by one, until she was left with nothing but an empty shell of her former glory.

In the end, Regina George was forced to face the truth: that true power comes not from popularity or outward appearances, but from inner strength and the courage to stand up for what you believe in. And you, Y/N, had triumphed over her, not with petty gossip or cruel taunts, but with your unyielding determination and unwavering spirit.

[childrenofcain-if]

Jumping up and down, biting down on my pillow while I wrestle my neighbor that came to complain about the noise that I'm making while running on my walls. EHEM I meant patiently waiting for the release date :batting eyelashes innocently:. Though I'm curious, how would the ROs react to an MC that's overly flirtratious but in a wet girl/boy/person loser kind of way + uses too many pick up lines/finger guns as a genuine way to flirt when nervous. Loving the premise for your if till now, it's been awhile I've loved all the ROs!!!

aw bonnie, i do hope your neighbour isn’t trying to write you a noise complaint now 💀 i need you to stay out of prison for the release date 🙏🏻

C LACROIX

you stood in front of them, wearing that ridiculous grin, eyes bright with a kind of nervous mischief that C had come to recognize too well. it was the prelude to something. and sure enough, it came—finger guns, of all things, pointed directly at them.

“are you french? ‘cause eiffel for you,” you said, your voice wavering slightly, betraying the nervous energy they were trying so hard to mask with charm. you knew damn well C was indeed french, and then the worst part—those finger guns again, paired with a wink that was so exaggerated it made their chest tighten in something like exasperated fondness.

C stared, a muscle in their jaw ticking. it should’ve been infuriating. was infuriating. the way you seemed to lose all sense of dignity the moment you felt nervous, drowning in a sea of bad pick-up lines and gestures better suited for a caricature than a real person. but god, the way your lips curved up at the end of each line, the way you stumbled through your awkward attempts, as if trying to flirt was some kind of dangerous game— it was impossible to look away.

“really?” C raised an eyebrow, trying and failing to hide the faint amusement threading through their voice. “that’s what you’re going with?”

you blinked, clearly flustered, but doubled down. “you know… if you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.”

C ran a hand down their face, trying to stifle the laugh threatening to break free. “you’re terrible at this.”

“yeah, well,” MC shrugged, attempting to play it cool but visibly unraveling under C’s gaze, “i’m not trying to impress you, or anything.”

“really?” C stepped closer, and the temperature of the room seemed to shift. their pale green eyes flickered, sharp and predatory, and your breath hitched, the sudden proximity taking away any semblance of ease. “because you’re trying very hard not to look like you’re about to pass out.”

your mouth opened, then shut again, your bravado failing you for a split second. your hand wavered in the air as if debating whether to throw out another absurd gesture, but you were frozen in place under C’s intense stare.

C tilted their head, voice dropping into something darker, more amused. “do you actually think those awful lines are working?”

you swallowed hard. “well, you haven’t walked away yet.”

there it was—the loser charm, the half-baked attempt at deflection, the way you always seemed to bumble your way through these moments, as if too much self-awareness would be your undoing. and somehow, it was disarming. endearing, even. like a puzzle C couldn’t quite solve but found themself fascinated by all the same.

C stared at you for a moment, then blinked, a slow, deliberate thing. their lips quirked up, barely—a ghost of a smile. “you’re... utterly pathetic.”

your lips twitched, trying for a smile but faltering. “and yet… you’re still here.”

C’s gaze softened in a way they couldn’t control, something worryingly close to affection flickering behind their eyes. “i don’t know whether to kiss you or strangle you.”

“hopefully the first one?” your voice cracked just slightly, your attempt at humor failing as C’s hand came up to gently brush a thumb across your cheek.

“god, you’re hopeless,�� C murmured, their voice barely a breath between you now.

your eyes fluttered shut, as if waiting for C to close the distance, to turn this fumbling, awkward mess into something real. but C stayed where they were, hovering just inches away, savoring the tension.

“i’m trying, you know,” you whispered, their voice softer now, less ridiculous, more honest. “i just—when i’m around you, i don’t know what to do. it’s like… my brain stops working.”

C smiled—a rare, genuine thing that made the dimples on their cheeks prominent. it had your heart skipping a beat. “maybe stop using finger guns next time.”

you let out a shuddering laugh. “yeah, i’ll… work on that.”

C tilted their head slightly, eyes tracing the curve of your lips. “you’re lucky i like you.”

you swallowed hard. “you do?”

C finally, finally closed the distance, pressing their lips to yours in a way that was both gentle and consuming, their hand curling around the back of your neck to pull you closer. when they pulled back, just barely, their voice was a low murmur against your mouth.

“yeah,” C whispered. “i do.”

V NÆSHOLM

V stood there, their gaze flicking nervously between the floor and your face, the faintest blush painting their cheeks. they were always like this—soft-spoken, devout, painfully kind in ways that made you feel like a storm in comparison. and today was no exception. they watched with wide, uncertain eyes as you nervously lifted your hands, finger guns aimed directly at them.

“are you religious?” you asked, your voice pitched higher than usual, betraying the nerves. “because you’re the answer to all my prayers.”

it was ridiculous, really. childish and awkward, with a smile so forced that it threatened to shatter into laughter at any moment. you knew it. you could feel how stupid it all sounded. but when you got nervous, this was the only way you knew how to act—filling the air with jokes, pick-up lines that clung too hard to the air between you and V, desperate for something solid to land on.

V blinked, their brow furrowing slightly like they weren’t sure how to respond. their fingers went instinctively to the small cross around their neck, clutching it like a lifeline, as if the gesture would tell them if you were losing your marbles. “um... thank you?”

your grin wavered, and you swallowed hard. another one, then. you had to try another one.

“are you a magician, then? because when i look at you, everything else just disappears.” you accompany that with a ‘poof’ motion to add more flair.

V’s breath caught in their throat, an embarrassed flush creeping up their neck, the kind of warmth that had no business being there. they blinked, staring at you like they were trying to make sense of a particularly difficult verse, something too foreign to easily translate. it wasn’t that they were hating it—no, it was something else entirely. something in them unfurled, but they couldn’t quite catch it, couldn’t grasp why.

you were fidgeting now, sensing the silence had stretched too long. “uh… not good? i’ve got more.”

V’s mouth twitched, something between a laugh and a sigh escaping them, though they quickly pressed their lips together. they didn’t want to be rude, didn’t want to laugh at you but how did they even respond to that?

“i—” they hesitated, voice quiet and soft as always. “i’m not sure that’s…”

you shot them another look, and there it was again: the finger guns. “is your name google? because you’ve got everything i’ve been searching for.”

yep, that’ll do it. V felt the warmth turn into something dangerously close to laughter, but they caught themself, biting down on the inside of their cheek. they didn’t want to encourage it, didn’t want to make you feel worse, but you were so earnest, so terribly bad at this, and yet so... you.

“i—” V tried again, cheeks flushed deeper now, eyes darting away because they couldn’t look directly at you without the nervousness creeping up their spine. “i think you’re—” they paused, unsure of the right words. kind? ridiculous? wonderful? none of it seemed right, and all of it seemed too much.

you were looking at them, a little too intently now, waiting for some kind of sign, some approval or rejection. you were always looking for something, even in your silliness, and V could feel that weight.

“does it ever work?” V’s voice was smaller now, their eyes dropping to the ground. “you know, those… lines?”

your face lit up with a kind of hope that tugged at V’s chest. “oh, absolutely not. not even once.”

you said it so sincerely, so shamelessly, that V couldn’t help but laugh then, a quiet, breathy sound that made them immediately cover their mouth, as if they’d broken some unwritten rule.

they shook their head, a smile creeping through their repressed amusement. “i don’t know what to do with you.”

you shrugged, clearly a little embarrassed now but still holding onto that grin. “i’m trying. just, you know—” you vaguely do the motions of jazz hands, and V swore they could feel their heart jump while stifling a fit of giggles. “i get nervous, and then… this happens.”

“i think it’s sweet,” V said after a while, more sure of themself this time. “you don’t have to be perfect all the time. not with me.”

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and your grin softened, became something more honest. “you think i’m sweet?”

V’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, the blush still warming their cheeks, but this time they didn’t look away. “yeah, i do.”

you stared at them for a long moment, feeling that nervous energy dissolve, replaced by something far more terrifying—a deep, aching tenderness you didn’t quite know how to express. you wanted to reach out, to touch V’s hand, to offer something real instead of your usual barrage of corny jokes. but all you could manage was a quiet, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

V bursts out laughing again, and this time, you laughed with them.

W OSTENDORF

W’s eyes, usually half-lidded with perpetual exhaustion, blinked in bewilderment as you approached them with an awkward bounce in your step. their sapphire gaze traced the way your fingers wavered, the unmistakable flourish of finger guns punctuating each hesitant attempt at flirtation.

“do you believe in love at first sight, or should i walk by again?” you asked, biting back the urge to laugh at yourself.

you watched as W blinked once, then twice, a momentary pause in their steady demeanor. they tilted their head slightly, considering you as if trying to figure out if you were serious. you were, in that embarrassing, frantic way only you could be.

the pick-up line hung in the air like an ill-fitting coat, and W’s mouth twitched, unsure whether to laugh or sigh. the line was delivered with a clumsy earnestness that made W’s heart ache, a mix of tenderness and exhaustion at the forefront of their expression. they rubbed a hand over their tired eyes, as if to clear away the fog of confusion that clung to them.

“um, no,” W said softly, their voice nearly a murmur. “i don’t think that’d be necessary.”

your smile wavered, a shaky thing like a candle in a draft. you laughed, a sound that was too loud, too eager. “well, that’s okay. i guess it already worked the first time, right?”

W swallowed hard, their gaze falling to the ground. if only you knew. but no matter, they thought about playing up the ‘exhausted and sleepy’ part so you won’t mind their silence to that question.

before they could say anything, however, you piped up again. “if i could rearrange the alphabet, i’d put U and I together.”

this time, W face started going red. they opened their mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, clearly unsure whether they should laugh or feel embarrassed on your behalf at this point. they had the air of someone caught in a sudden rainstorm, unprepared for the onslaught, trying to find cover but too polite to complain about getting wet.

your heart stuttered in your chest, unsure if you were supposed to be pleased by the way W’s lips trembled in the smallest of smiles or if you should simply bury yourself in shame at the way they’re turning red like they’re holding in a laugh.

W’s gaze dropped again, their thumbs rubbing nervously over each other. they smiled through their tiredness, but it was shy, careful, like they were afraid it might be taken the wrong way. “that’d be nice. you’re nice.”

and there it was—the words that always unraveled you the most. that delicate kindness, that indulgent air in W that made all of your jokes feel so hollow in comparison. you didn’t deserve someone like them, not with your clumsy attempts at flirting, not with the way you turned every silence into some absurd joke that made all the involved parties uncomfortably awkward.

you cleared your throat, but your voice cracked as you spoke again. “do you… do you have a map? because i keep getting lost in your eyes.”

a pause. W bit their lip, their face now a full shade of ripe tomatoes, and they let out the faintest sound—a stifled laugh, maybe, or something close to it. “i don’t… have a map.”

your heart skipped a beat. it was working! or maybe it wasn’t, but W wasn’t running away. they were standing there, red-faced with the dark circles under their eyes, and you realized that for all your blundering, W wasn’t retreating. they stayed, almost frozen in place, a slightly amused flutter in their gaze but no sign of discomfort. maybe it wasn’t such a ridiculous plan after all.

“elmo?” you asked, your voice quieter now, soft in the way you knew W preferred. “you’re not… mad at me, are you? for being like this?”

W looked startled by the sudden change in tone, their demeanor turning protective. “mad? no, never. why would i be mad?”

“because i’m such a loser around you. i always have been.” your hands twitched, the shadow of finger guns hanging awkwardly in the air between you. “i thought you’d have gotten tired of me by now.”

W’s heart softened, the edges of their amusement fading in the presence of your vulnerability. “i’ve never ever thought or felt like that. if i’m being honest, i think i even prefer this side of you at times.”

you blinked, something anxious flickering in your eyes. “really? i wouldn’t have guessed you’d have a thing for corny losers like me.”

W’s gaze softened even more, and before they knew it, they had reached out, their fingers gently brushing against your wrist, a tentative connection.

“i like you,” they murmured, their voice soft and barely more than a whisper. “cheesy pick-up lines and all.”

your breath caught, and for once, you didn’t have a quick response. instead, you stared at W with wide eyes, something genuine and quiet passing between you in the absence of words.

“you don’t have to do anything,” they whispered, “except stay.”

D DIACONU

D watched you with that signature half-lidded stormy gray gaze, the one that always felt like it held a secret; as though they were privy to something no one else was. their arms are crossed loosely over their chest, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of their mouth.

you, meanwhile, were fumbling. your usual bravery melted into something far less cool, your hands twitching in an exaggerated motion—finger guns, of all things. D almost laughed then but swallowed it down, amused at the absurdity of it. this wasn’t their first time witnessing you stumble over your own feet, and it wouldn’t be the last, but there was something undeniably endearing about it, like watching a bird try to fly while forgetting it doesn’t have wings.

“are you from tennessee?” you asked, your voice catching in the back of your throat. you shot the finger guns again, and D had to suppress an eye-roll at the cheesiness of it all. “because you’re the only ten i see.”

D didn’t react immediately. instead, they watched you with careful precision, letting the silence hang just long enough to feel like a challenge.

“i’m from texas actually,” D’s voice was a low southern drawl, honeyed with amusement. “common mistake, eh?”

you shifted nervously under their gaze, all the awkwardness evident in your stance.

“yeah, i know. i just... thought it was cute,” you answered, almost defensively, your hands still hanging in midair, unsure what to do now that the moment was spiraling out of your control.

a quiet laugh slipped from D’s lips, smooth as silk, barely more than a breath. they uncrossed their arms and stepped forward, closing the distance between you in a way that felt deliberate, dangerous.

“you think this is how you get my attention?” their voice was low, teasing, but there was a flicker of something that hinted at just how carefully D was watching your every move. “cute little lines and finger guns?”

you flushed under the intensity of that stare, scrambling to regain control of the situation. “well, i— yeah, i thought maybe... it would work?” you winced at your own words. god, could this get any worse?

D leaned in just close enough to make your pulse race. “you think i go for cute?” the words were laced with a challenge, a dare for you to keep going, to push past your limits.

you swallowed, every instinct telling you to back down, but instead, you doubled down on the only defense you knew.

“you remind me of a dictionary,” you grinned, forcing out another pick-up line, desperate to keep from crumbling under D’s pinning stare, “because you really do add meaning to my life.”

this time, D did laugh—a rich, joyful sound that seemed to unravel the tension between you in one graceful swoop. they pulled back just enough to catch your eye, shaking their head in disbelief. “you really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

your face burned with embarrassment, but there was a flicker of something softer beneath all the practiced allure and playful flirtations. they weren’t mocking you, not really. in fact, there was a hint of appreciation buried in their amusement, a quiet acknowledgment that you, as ridiculous as you were, had managed to catch their attention in a way nobody else could.

D’s fingers brushed lightly against your wrist, the touch fleeting but electric. “you’re lucky i find this... entertaining. otherwise, you’d be in way over your head.”

you blinked, thrown by the sudden shift in energy. you opened your mouth to respond, but D’s hand was already moving, their fingers ghosting up your arm in a way that left you breathless, speechless.

“i think,” D continued, their voice almost a whisper now, “i like watching you try. you’re terrible at it, no doubt about that, but... there’s something about the way you stumble through it.” their eyes locked onto yours, something unreadable flickering in the depths of their gaze. “i’ve never met someone like you. that much, i can admit.”

you felt your heart skip a beat, your words catching in your throat. all the cheesy pick-up lines, the awkward flirting—none of it seemed to matter anymore, not under the affection in D’s gaze, not when they were standing so close that it felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you.

“maybe i’m just a uniquely jumbled mess,” you muttered, your voice barely audible, but D’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer with a softness that was almost unnerving.

“you definitely are, dragă mea,” D agreed, their lips ghosting over yours, so close that it felt like a kiss, but not quite. “but it’s one of the little things i like about you.”

and with that, they kissed you, slow and deliberate, like they’d been waiting for this moment longer than they’d ever let on. you melted into them, every nerve alight, the awkwardness and self-doubt slipping away in the warmth of D’s touch. this, right here, was what you’d been gunning for all along.

M WHITLOCK-SINGH

M had never known someone quite like you. there was something so bafflingly endearing about you, as if you existed to disrupt V’s neatly ordered world with your awkward charm and unbearable nervousness. it wasn’t that you meant to do so, but the way you flirted—if you could even call it that—made M’s head spin despite their usual stoicism.

they could see it coming a mile away, the way your eyes darted from the floor to M’s face and back again, like you were gathering the courage to throw yourself off a cliff. and then it happened.

your finger guns shot up, aimed clumsily at a literal heir to the british throne. “well, here i am. what were your other two wishes?”

M blinked, incredulity washing over them. seriously? again?

there was a moment of silence that hung heavy in the air, before you, still flustered, tried again. “if you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple.”

M sighed, pressing the heels of their palms to their eyes. it was like being trapped in a bad dream, except it wasn’t bad, not really. it was you, standing there, losing your composure in a way that made you seem so painfully human. so vulnerable.

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” M’s voice was low, restrained, an edge of amusement barely detectable. they crossed their arms, leveling you with a look that was part disbelief, part... something else. “is this really your idea of flirting?”

you winced, but it was clear you were trying to save face. “what, do they not like compliments in england?”

“compliments?” M’s laugh was sharp, but not exactly mocking. “you’re telling me those were compliments?”

“okay, maybe not my best,” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck, your voice dropping into something that sounded closer to sincerity. “but… i mean, you’re kind of distracting, your majesty. you can’t really blame me.”

W narrowed their eyes to hide their barely suppressed delight, studying the way you fidgeted, the way your hands couldn’t seem to stay still. it was always like this—you trying so hard to be smooth, to make M smile with these ridiculous pick-up lines that felt like they belonged in a teen rom-com from the 90s and early 2000s.

“distracting?” M repeated, taking a step closer, watching as your breath stuttered. “how so?”

you swallowed, eyes wide, trying to keep it together. “like… you know… hard to think straight.”

a beat passed, and then M did something unexpected—they laughed. a soft, surprised sound that felt different from their usually polite, regal chuckle. and yet, it somehow sounded better. you blinked, as if unsure whether to be relieved or even more nervous.

“before i met you, i never thought i’d see the day,” M murmured, stepping even closer, the laughter settling into a smile, “when someone would try to flirt with me using finger guns.”

you smiled back, sheepish but hopeful. “well, i aim to please you with my moves. call me twinkle-toes.”

M shook their head, but the smile that tugged at the corners of their mouth betrayed them. they didn’t want to admit it, but something about the whole thing—the terrible pick-up lines, the way you stumbled over your words, the sheer awkwardness of it—was getting to them. softening them, in a way nothing else had.

“you’re a bumbling idiot,” V said quietly, but there was no malice in it. just a strange sort of fondness.

you started to grin. “but i’m your bumbling idiot, right?”

“maybe,” M whispered, voice like a velvet secret. “but i’d suggest you not throw those words so loudly in public.”

your laugh was shaky, but real. “noted. i’ll—uh, keep that in mind, your highness.”

M smiled softly, warmth flickering in their chest despite themself. “just call me by my name, meri jaan. i’d prefer it more right now.”

[lemotmo]

Okay it has a bit more of their lunacy but more importantly it looks like we also got one of the reasons why some people are jumping ship, and it makes sense. Also we should all totally start saying that is who these people really are, haha. They would die.

Q. What does it feel like to ship a couple of playground bullies? You must be so proud.

Q. Wow Oliver's true colors are so disappointing. What an utter lap dog he is to Ryan. Hope they enjoy one another because no one will want anything to do with either one of them when Lou comes out and says how awful they are to him.

Q. I just feel so bad for Lou. He tried so hard to fit in with them and be friends and they went out of their way to exclude him and make fun of those of us who genuinely love and appreciate him. They can have each other. I'm all for the show giving Tommy a different love interest. He deserves better than Oliver/Buck.

Q. So I was a B/T shipper because it was the canon ship. But I was there for Buck and those psychos wanted us to start going around and bashing Oliver and spamming Twitter and Instagram with how awful he is. Yeah they can keep their crazy. I'll go back to happily waiting for Buddie. What a brunch of losers.

Q. Current canon ship or not, I'm out. I don't play about Oliver/Buck. I was happy to ship the current canon but I draw the line at openly hating on Oliver. They're crazy.

Q. You come for my boy and the other boy I have loved for 6 years and I'm out. I shipped it because it was the current canon. You want to try and force me to turn on Oliver and Ryan you're sadly mistaken. You freaks can have each other. What a complete waste of my time.

A. Once again this has all resulted from a mustache Instagram filter. I cannot make sense of you people at all. So I've decided that you are not actually Lou/Tommy fans. I think Lou got together with a couple of his friends and decided he wanted some attention. So he asked his friends to go online and pretend to be massive Tommy fans to see if he could force the show's hands. Only no one cared so you all double drowned and decided to try and prove that the audience actually prefers Tommy to Buck. But that has backfired spectacularly and now you and Lou are stuck because he can't come out and say he made all of you up for attention because that would be pathetically embarrassing. So instead you all just have to pretend to become more and more detached from reality. I hope he paid you all well for this because yikes. Don't try to convince me that you're not actually Lou and his friends. I've decided that makes sense in my head so it is now fact, and you're all bigots if you try and disagree with me (did I do that right, guys?).

Anyway, to the Oliver anons, that was always going to be the problem for the Lou diehards. The majority of you were going to be there for Buck. And the more obvious it became, especially with Oliver, that it isn't anything to really invest in most of you were always going to walk away. That's why they were so desperate to start a fandom war. Their only hope was to try and turn people against Oliver and Ryan. It was the dumbest of dumb strategies and watching it completely fall apart for them over an Instagram filter Oliver and Ryan were having fun with is absolutely fitting. They deserve their demise to be this utterly ridiculous.

I know I'm repeating myself over and over again, but still-- thank you so much Nonny for dropping this into my inbox.

A bit of a follow up to the previous ask and-- yeah, I just. No. I promised myself to not lose anymore brain cells to this lunacy. I can't anymore with these people.

But I am so thankful and happy to see that a lot of the more mainstream BT shippers who love the show, who were mostly in it for Buck and because they enjoyed the BT dynamic (Nothing wrong with that by the way. Ship and let ship!) have seen how this small subset of Tommy fans is behaving towards the cast. I know that some of the shippers weren't sure about the stories and rumours going around about Tommy stans being blocked and things like that. Today we have seen enough proof of that kind of behaviour to leave no doubt.

Anyway, on to better things I hope.

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If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 2.3

Yoko, you're hilarious. Sirens going off in her brain. “Alert! They're into childhood bedroom crush confessions territory. Redirect! Redirect!”

But also I find them so ridiculous. All the men in this. Is it just a case of men always assuming women are talking more than they are? Because I am definitely not hearing Yoko talking for John here. Or is this a rare case?

Paul’s scouse getting progressively thicker as the argument intensifies. Trying to finish his point as John's interrupting him. “But. Bot! Boot!! I do think –”Ugh it's so sexy. Sorry, anyway. 

Paul's pep talk to John is super cute, but what does he mean, exactly? “we would actually all have dug to see you kick that telephone box in.”  What is this metaphor? What does he want John to break? Or does he just mean John should act out more?

Okay but in this interview, she's definitely doing 90% of the talking even when the interviewer specifically asks just John. So if that's how they are in meetings or whatever then okay I could see that being frustrating. 

Ow. Fuck. Hate that moment.

John: another Lennon/McCartney original entitled “All I Want is You”. Paul: Allan Wanna Too . . . Al Aronovitz. John: Al Aronovitz if you'll Aronovitz. We'll both Aronovitz together. Ugh sometimes you can just hear the voices in their heads being like “no don't tell him you like his song, that's pathetic! God, you're such a loser for even thinking it.” And sometimes . . . It's this. There's no in between. 

John knows if Paul's singing “Darling” he's talking to him. Look at his expression as he's watching Paul sing “stand by me Darling, Darling.”

“Dig it” is actually insane. Paul: if you want it, you can get it. You can get it if you can dig it up. John: I can hardly keep my hands still. John: if you want it all you gotta do is ask for it. Paul: (intermittent with John, starts a crescendo of “yeah. Yeah! Yeah! YEAH!” and “want it. Want it. Want it. Want it.”) John continues: Nicely. Say pretty please and you're gonna get it. You're gonna get it alright, you're gonna get it. This time you're gonna get it good!

The looks as they're making fun of something important to him. Poor George. 

See and here's the thing. If George knows basically what happened in India (which from this quote that's what I'm deducing) then Paul knows. You know?

Okay you know the “I love you, blue” moment from Get Back? I was feeling so devastated for John that there was no response to that and someone very smart pointed out in the tags that this moment could be interpreted as Paul's coded reply which I think is a lovely idea. And seems legit especially since John responds with song lyrics. 

Paul: no that's good, that one. John: okay, tick it. Paul: I Love that one. John: thank you. Paul: I really do. John: I enjoy it too sometimes. 

Peter Jackson why didn't you include these bits in your film? Huh? Huh? Was it because it was too homosexuality for you? 

John's voice singing “you can imitate anyone you know” over teeny clips of Paul doing about fifty different impressions. It's so phenomenal. 

John's “pleeeeeheeeease” actually makes me want to cry. He's begging with everything he's got. It's like he's a baby, really truly, and it physically hurts. If I was the one he was talking to in that song, I don't know if I could survive. 

But Paul is sure. They're stuck. He can't give John what he wants. 

Yoko tries to give John a kiss and he's so harsh. “Stop it!” If my boy ever talked to me like that . . . Let's just say I wouldn't be sitting with him at work anymore. 

And then he's laying with his head in her lap, laughing madly with Paul. See what I mean? If Paul would just let John lay in his lap, I guarantee Yoko would not be there.

A coded exchange PJ left out. You can tell when they start to talk in code just by their tone. Suddenly they're a bit more even-keeled, a bit slower, clearer in their speech. Paul: achieve something every day. It may in theory sound silly, but . . . John: in practice . . . Paul: it's even sillier. But in practice, it's all there is. John: this is where it's at. Paul: this is where it's at unless that is where it's at. John: this is where it's at now. Paul: teamwork. A good defense. John: you play ball with me and I'll play ball with you. Paul: could be learning something instead of this you know. 

There's a reason Let it Be is played at funerals, folks. 

Is it just me or has Paul literally never looked uglier? Linda's a babe, though. John and Yoko both look cool and hot ASF.

Again, the song choices. “Goodbye (Paul's Version. From the Vault.)” Played over the double wedding footage? Okay. Goodbye, my love. 

[teal-sword]

Diluc x male reader

M-A-M-A B-O-Y

Mama's boy

Mama's boy

Mama's boy.

｡⁠:ﾟﾟ⁠:｡⁠｡⁠:ﾟﾟ⁠:｡⁠｡⁠:ﾟﾟ⁠:｡⁠｡⁠:ﾟﾟ⁠:｡⁠｡⁠:ﾟﾟ⁠:｡⁠｡⁠:ﾟﾟ⁠:｡⁠｡⁠:ﾟﾟ⁠:｡⁠｡⁠:ﾟﾟ⁠:｡⁠｡⁠:ﾟﾟ⁠:｡⁠

You were a multitude of ways a Mama's boy in an funny and cruel way.

She was the only one you really had for a while, growing up poor without a father she provided and helped you with everything and tried to give you everything you asked and she could reach.

In return you loved her more than any beautifully made toy, even as you grew older and both of your lives became more financially stable you included her in plans like 'what am I going to be when I grow up'

You visit her house once a week or 2 times a month depending on your schedule

No matter how much you didn't like them you'd tolerate the loser boyfriends that ended up being dumped later on because they gave her a bit more happiness and time then you can in your adult life

But then there's the side you have to face about her.

Her temper wasn't the best, anything bad without good enough proof was your fault, she was toxic yet loving which is confusing

But she was still the first person to ever love you so some good, some bad

Then it happened... you got a letter from her caretaker

in her own house.. she took a little nap in her wheelchair after going on a walk to feed and see a few birds and she never woke up

How pathetic. A grown man sitting alone in a tavern drinking away late at night with no one but Master Diluc around serving drinks, crying about his mommy

It made you feel so small and you were, you felt like the boy who was teased again and again for not having a father but this time mama won't wipe your tears away, kiss your cheek, give you a snack and say it doesn't matter as long as we're together

Shes gone. And you're stuck to figure out life without accounting her into everything

"ughhh"

"Hic"

Diluc looks at you

'i was going to give myself a break but this poor man is here crying about god knows what'

"master Dliuc.."

You slurred

"ihmm surrry to be insev- insensa- ahem insensitive but, hic h-how did you get over yur dad hic master crepus dyinny?"

Dliuc looked at you not going to lie he was shocked no one's had the nerve to ask him that, sure you were under the influence and would have never asked that under normal conditions but it still shocked him what's worse is that he didn't know how to answer

"... I didn't take it well.. I fought with Kaeya right after actually.. (I'm not saying why) but I started living with it and doing things for him.. I can't explain it but you just learn you need to live"

.you looked up at him

.your face went blank for once and you thought about it

. maybe he's right..

"Wohw that's.. uhmm hic really smartf thnxxx"

'And he passed out'

Dliuc stared at your sleeping body that leaned on the counter

Your breathing was calm.. like how normally were

You normally never drank much. And you were probably the most responsible drinker he had considering how he's usually on the night shift

"you aren't so bad Y/n."

[eddiemunsonw]

I'm a winner

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Summary: Good question. Basically a little drabble about Gator being a little shit and kind of being put in his place by reader? Oh and smut!

CW/Disclaimer: virgin!Gator, smut, they're a bit rough

Author's note: I saw the little Gator clip and this popped up in my head, I don't know either, thought I'd share 'cause why not? We obviously know very little about the character so whether it's IC, OOC, who knows

Words: 2189

“… and then he said I should get my fucking shit together?! Me? I’ve been working my god damn ass off for that man and he comes in with that? It’s so…”

Gator continued to rant about his dad and had been for the past half hour. It was boring. He did it all the time. While you did get it, because parents could be annoying, you wished he would focus more on hanging out instead. You didn’t like only being there functioning as a wall to rant to— you never got a word in.

“Gate, listen,” you started softly, “I know it sucks but maybe just take the loss for today and hope for a better tomorrow?”

His gaze snapped towards you, eyes furious as he lifted his hands to accompany the raise of his voice.

“I’m a WINNER!”

Jesus Christ. Okay. He was breathing hard and honestly, it could have been sexy if he wasn’t such a hothead all the time. You rolled your eyes.

“Today, you’re a loser. Suck it up, Tillman.”

You turned around to leave, having had enough of his whining, but with a few quick steps he caught up to you and slammed the door shut right in front of your face.

“What the hell Ga—”

“Shut up!”

His front pushes against your back, squeezing all air from between you two as his hand wrapped around your throat.

“I will kick you in the fucking balls if you don’t let me go right now, shithead,” you threatened, shocked yet unfazed by his sudden behavior. He put pressure on your throat with his hand just lightly, not enough to be menacing. A soft caress followed, making you wonder if he had changed his mind. His hand slipped off but on that same second he roughly turned you around and pushed you against his bedroom door.

With a sharp inhale his lips captured yours in a bruising kiss, one hand easily pinning both of yours above your head. You hummed in protest and threw your arms forward with such power that it left a harsh bang when he pushed them back against the door.

As promised, you kicked him in the balls with your knee. His release was immediate and he groaned in pain as he staggered backwards. Your kicks were the mean kind. With ease you cornered him until the back of his knees hit the bed. He was unstable enough for you to push him down gently with your hand on his chest, immediately straddling his hips.

His hands wasted no time coming up to your hips but you slapped them away immediately.

“My way or no way,” you told him sternly.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” Gator grumbled, but you had already felt his cock twitch against your core even through his thick cargo pants.

“You sure? I think you like being a little obedient,” you quipped. He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Always knew you wanted me. Didn’t think you were this easy though.”

“At least I’m not leaking just because I got told off by a girl,” you mumbled before reaching down between your legs to squeeze him through his pants. He whined pathetically and it got you thinking. All things considered with his family…

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

The expression of being caught surfaced for a minute before a scowl replaced it.

“Fuck no, why’d you say that? I have loads of experience. Girls like me, you know.”

You nodded. It was true, girls did like him, at least until they witnessed a fight between him and his dad or when he lost his temper. Girls only wanted problematic boys in a hot way, not in a “it will actually mess with your reputation” way.

“You never got that far though,” you shrugged off his words easily. He all but huffed.

“What makes you so sure?”

“For starters, you react like a virgin.”

Anger flashed his eyes and once again he overpowered you. Little did he know that you weren’t going to give him any restraint. He pinned you down on the bed, pushing your legs apart so he could lay between them.

“Promise you after I fuck you, you won’t think I’m a virgin anymore.” He lifted your shirt and started to press kisses onto your belly, it was honestly endearing to see how clumsy he was. A giggle escaped your lips. 

“What?”

“You won’t be a virgin anymore after this so no, I wouldn’t think you were.”

Gator rolled his eyes and started unbuttoning your top and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought the top belonged to a doll with the way his fingers were so much larger than the buttons. His hands were so goddamn big.

“So we’re gonna fuck?” He asked matter-of-factly.

“I thought you were all: big boss gonna take what I want,” you said with a smirk.

“I am! I’m just— confirming. That you also want it, I guess.” His frown made him look a little confused.

“You wouldn’t have gotten this far if I didn’t,” you smiled, knowing it would rile him up. Irritated, he shoved your top aside and pushed it down your shoulders until he could throw it elsewhere in the room.

“I would have,” he muttered against your skin, biting it a little too harsh to be nice. For normal people at least. For you, it gathered a wetness in between your legs, even more so when he remembered to soothe it with his tongue. Gator took his sweet time exploring your body, undressing you as he went. He left a trail of bruising hickeys as he rutted against the bed. His moans didn’t go unnoticed and when you heard the bed creak rhythmically you brushed your hand over his head.

“You’re gonna come in your pants if you keep that up,” you told him gently. Embarrassed, he stilled his hips. You almost felt a little bad with how clueless he looked. It only lasted a moment until his hands fumbled with your pants and took them off. All of it coming down with it. His hungry eyes stared at your core as he lay back down between your legs. With his thumbs, he spread your lips to watch your slick drop down on the sheets and he groaned before he started hungrily lapping at your pussy as if it was his last meal. Your hips bucked up, hand flying to his hair but he slapped it away in favor of holding them still next to you.

“Above your head. Don’t wanna see them move.” He ordered and you complied when he let go and spread your lips once more. His mouth was criminal. The speed with which he devoured you had you moaning louder than anyone had ever managed you to. He kept spreading your lips with his thumbs, playing with the edges as he made you a complete mess.

“Not so talkative now, are you?” Gator grinned when he pulled away, causing you to whine. He grabbed roughly at your cunt, rubbing his palm over you as he moved back up. Somewhere in between he had taken off his pants too and somehow you hadn’t even noticed. He took off his shirt as well, tossing it somewhere in the room before hovering over you.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he murmured against your lips. “And you’re gonna take it. I’m gonna take what I need and you’re going to give it to me.”

“So that’s like, one minute tops?” You asked innocently, though you couldn’t hide your grin. Without warning, he thrusted into you and his face really did betray that this was his first time.

“Oh god oh god oh god.” 

You took it all, his animalistic thrusts that lifted your hips from the bed. You clawed at his back and he seemed to have forgotten that you weren’t allowed to do that in favor of your touch.

“You doing okay, big boy?” you teased even though the nickname was quite fitting considering the size of his cock. 

Roughly, he grabbed your chin, pushing the skin around your cheeks squished between his fingers so your mouth was pressed together. He glared at you but couldn’t find the right words to say. Eyes flickering back and forth between yours, searching for something. He closed the gap with a quick kiss that soon turned passionate now that you were no longer holding back. In just a few thrusts he came inside you, hips stilling immediately. You groaned as you felt your own orgasm dwindle back right before the finish.

“Don’t fucking stop,” you groaned as you pushed your hips up. You felt his warm chuckle against your neck and his tongue tracing your ear.

“Told you I’d take what I needed.”

With a swift move you removed your hands from above your head and yanked his head up by his hair, causing him to groan out in pain.

“I gave it to you. Now give me what I need.”

“I'm gonna hurt you,” Gator hissed as he slid off of you and manhandled you on your side. His cock slid between your asscheeks and he almost whimpered at his own sensitivity.

“Yeah? You can try,” you mumbled indifferently, arm reaching back to grab a hold of his hair again. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

His cock twitched against you.

“You’re a desperate one, aren’t you?” he murmured against your shoulder, kissing it a little too gently to make his words sound condescending.

“I just wanna be actually fucked and not have someone’s cock dip in for thirty seconds only,” you shrugged, a knowing smile on your lips. Annoyed, he lifted your leg up and positioned himself to thrust inside you. If you pretended you didn’t hear him whimper, nor felt the gentle ease with which he entered you, he could almost seem as mean as he pretended to be. His thrusts on the other hand were relentless, determined to make you feel him in every way possible. 

Surprisingly, he moved his hand between your legs to play with your clit, again not as selfish as you’d have expected of him, even though he was missing his mark completely. You corrected his hand with a simple nudge and he adjusted instantly, making you see stars when he sped up his fingers and thrusted deeper inside you. 

“Come for me, Y/N. Show me you need my cock.”

A retort died on your lips when his teeth grazed your neck and his arm wiggled itself around your shoulders so he could grab your boob not too gently. He kept whispering obscenities into your ear, one filthier than the other and definitely fueled by fantasy rather than experience. As your moans grew louder his hips snapped harder and his lips captured yours to feel the vibration against his own. An orgasm stronger than every comeback you had given him rushed through your body, shaking out of your pores as you grew limp against him as he slowed down his pace.

You felt his lips kissing your back in a trail from your shoulder to your neck, his arms holding you tightly. When you didn’t move for a while, he shifted and lifted his head to try to get a look at your face.

“Did I hurt you?” His voice sounded concerned, really concerned. Like his words earlier hadn’t been all that serious. You stayed quiet for a little longer to find out exactly what the truth behind those words was.

“Y/N?” A hesitant kiss on your cheek, the hand on your waist caressing you softly.

“What’s the answer you want me to give?”

“That I didn’t,” he mumbled.

You smiled softly and turned your head to look at him.

“You didn’t.”

Gator let go of a relieved sigh but rolled his eyes at the same time.

“Don’t scare me like that. I… say things, sometimes. Don’t mean them.”

“I know.”

“You’re my best friend.”

“I know.”

“And you were right.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t even tell you why you were right,” Gator mumbled.

“That you were a virgin,” you said with a smile, cupping his cheek. He turned his head and you spotted the faintest blush.

“Shut up. You weren’t?” You shook your head and turned around in his arms so you didn’t have to keep craning your neck.

“No, remember Dave?”

“Him?!” Gator made a face of disgust and you giggled as you put your hand on his chest.

“It wasn’t fun. Or good. This,” you gestured between you and him, “This was… interesting at least.”

“Not good?” Gator asked. You shrugged, a small smile on your lips.

“You could work on being a little nicer.”

Gator huffed and looked away almost guiltily.

“Sorry. I was angry.”

“You can make it up to me next time.”

His eyes widened, hand flexing around your waist.

“There’s a next time?” He sounded hopeful. You softly captured his lips and kissed him.

“If you’re nice.”

“I can try,” he mumbled, but his eyes and soft smile told you that he would be. For you, he would.