#so fucking confusing but like. good confusing. not boring confusing

[cyb3rpunked]

“don’t yawn like that, pretty girl.”park sunghoon

¡ in which your bf got hard from seeing you yawn during a college lecture !

trigger warnings :: masturbation, blowjobs, bondages, cursing, and pet names.. (and just overall a lot of nsfw content. 18+ only, mdni!)

extra background info :: um so yeah he’s basically like “come give me head, babygirl..” ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

damn. hoon just really wanted your plump and pretty lips on his aching cock, didn’t he? the way you covered your mouth when you yawned-. god, so beautiful. he bit his lip, shamelessly staring at you during a lecture. he couldn’t wait to get you in his dorm, with you in between his knees, eating him up as if you starved your whole life for him.

he whined under his breath, waiting for the bell to ring. hoon sighed shakily, trying to ease his arousal under his desk, but failing miserably. so, so impatient.

the class went on, with the boring teacher making everyone have a contest to see who’d fall asleep last. it was pretty sad. meanwhile, hoon slipped his hand into his boxers, unable to wait any longer. he tried not to make any sound as he slowly stroked his aching member. hoon licked his lips, imagining that it’s you that’s fondling his balls and smearing pre-cum around his tip so gently. he can’t cum yet, he was still in class which annoyed him.

all he could do was just stroke his hard cock, begging the universe to let this painful class end.

once the class ended, he watched you as you slowly and almost torturously packed your things. hoon walked to you and spoke in a whine like way,

“my dorm, now.” you were confused and questioned him with a puzzled look.

“why? i need to go to the library to return some books.” he groaned and whispered quietly,

“look down, bae..” you cluelessly looked down and saw a bulge in his pants, making it clear at what he wants. “books later, me now.” he said, gently grabbing your wrist and leading you out.

once you two got to his dorm, he locked the door and immediately unbuckled his pants and took off his boxers as you put down your backpack.

“woah, hoon-..” you said as he gently wrapped an arm around your waist and brought you closer to his bed. he whined as he commented,

“baby, it needs you so bad..” you bit your lip and obediently sat down inbetween his knees, bringing your lips to the tip. hoon whimpered softly as your lips welcomingly took him whole. your warm mouth made him feel things that made him feel like he was about to ascend to heaven.

your tongue, your lips, it was all too good as you licked and sucked him without a care in the world. shit, he was getting close.. he was too busy moaning and whining, so he just gently tugged on your silky hair to indicate that he was gonna cum soon.

you gently took his balls in his hands and rubbed them gently, fondling them with such good care. you even sped up your sucking for him.

“fuck, y/n..” he moaned out loudly, letting himself release in your mouth. he tasted like avocados and vanilla ice cream. you slurped all of his cum up, leaving nothing to be left as he gently kissed your forehead.

“thank you, baby, it’s been a while since you made me feel so good..” he muttered, picking you up off the floor and placing you in his lap.

this was meant to be a full length / really long pov, but i never finished it and it stayed in my drafts for like two weeks.. 😭

[jouno-s]

did anyone else watch the anime pet (2020) because i’m starting to feel like this was a shared hallucination i had with my cousin

[princescar]

Enomatsumiki ot3 charts bc them and Chappell Roan is the only thing that has been keeping me stable

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

okay wait laughingstock concept Incoming: so im imagining some of the neighbors (maybe Julie & Frank) noticing that Barnaby & Howdy are a lil fruity, yk yk. and Julie's like damn, i guess we have to play matchmaker here.

so naturally they wind up getting the whole neighborhood involved. everybody's a wingman here. Poppy's dropping hints when Howdy drops off groceries, Wally is constantly asking Barnaby to go get him things from the bodega, etc etc. Howdy and Barnaby are facing this sudden change in town-wide behavior with slight concern and bemusement

eventually - lets say Julie, Sally, and Wally - get Barnaby into the bodega and then abruptly leave like "don't have too much fun without us you two *wink wink nudge nudge*". once they're gone (read: very obviously hiding outside & watching through the window) Barnaby & Howdy turn to each other like:

Barnaby: you think we should tell them we're already married?

Howdy: let them have their fun - they'll figure it out eventually

[poisonousquinzel]

Batman: Urban Legends (2021 - ) #1

Hi, am thinking about Harley and Ivy gardening and setting up Ivy's greenhouse together because they should be allowed to embrace each other's passions and build each other up and help with the other's plans 💖💖 instead of it being an unnecessary sexist and ooc hurdle

(cough @ P*ul D*ni & Br*ce T*mm cough hahahahhahahhahah)

Cause really, Harley would love doing anything with Ivy and would 1000% count gardening with her as dates. It's daily dates! 💞🥺

She loves everything about her enchanting, plant obsessed lady. Ivy sees cool moss and is like !! Moss!! ❤️❤️ And Harley matches her enthusiasm not cause she loves moss but because she loves Ivy. And Ivy being happy and excited about something inherently is gonna make Harley happy because she loves it when her partners are thriving.

If she can help in that, she jumps at the chance. She may mess up and get distracted, but she loves and listens and notes what little things makes them tick because they're special to her.

Harley Quinn: Make 'em Laugh (2020-) #2 "Housewarming"

Like this!!! More of this!! She knew that the Bonsai tree was something Ivy would want to save if she went there and she knew it was something that would be in better hands in the care of Ivy anyway. And then in the end, even though she wasn't able to obtain the tree because of the guard robot, her snake swallowed a couple of rare seeds and hacked them up on Ivy's floor. A bit gross, sure, but Ivy's delighted!

"These--These are gargantua seeds! Some of the rarest in the world! Stolen from their rightful homes centuries ago, and all but extinct! Genuine man-eating trees! This is better than anything I could have dreamed of! Thank you!"

Lots of exclamation points when you write out the dialogue but skdjsksks like they're just so 💖💞💖💞💖 special to me

Omg and the "My Harls" 💞💞💞

And the loveliest "Garden" trope of them all for Harlivy, the Paradise/Eden/Utopia 💖🤌 my Fucking Beloved,,,, I've posted the bits here 💖 but like these ones ?!?

Batman (2016) #97

"She built this paradise for me in a cave system under the park, after a rough time with Mr. J... I wasn't ready to let go of him then, but he'd poisoned me....

This was kinda sorta my rehab clinic. That's why I wanted to bring you here."

"Ivy's usual rules are No Clothes In Eden, but I don't think you and I have that kind of relationship.

And if any of these plants have her residual personality, they'd probably try harder to eat you.

This is where I used to go with her to get my brain in order. To a point, anyways..."

Like the months they probably spent together throughout the years in Eden, their own secret safe haven, a place that Ivy would take her when she needed to get away from it all. And the way she says "if any of these plants have her residual personality, they'd probably try harder to eat you."

the plants probably reacted to Ivy's emotions whenever they were there before, there together. Just the two of them, nude, vulnerable and completely and utterly alone besides the other, far far beneath the world above.

Just the idea of casual vines, grass and ferns brushing lovingly against Harley's legs and arms as they walk together, a perfectly bloomed flower and it's stem wrapping around her bicep.

The two of them spending each night together in the bud of a rose Ivy grew, entrained and intertwined for warmth and comfort. The two of them gently washing each other's backs in the river, skinny-dipping in the dark and getting lost in the feeling of each other's skin against their own.

Ivy creating this perfect escape for them where they didn't have to worry about anything, money, food, cruel and vindictive ex's.

"Trying to cut my throat open was one thing, but then you come to burn down the only place I still like in this stupid city?" Batman (2016) #98 And if Harley ever did get too cold, if they happened to venture down in the colder months, the No Clothes Rules could always be fudged to mean no Human World clothes. She could craft her clothes just like she makes her own outfits.

But, really, they both enjoy the freedom and intimacy that comes from being fully exposed and naked around each other, the inherent vulnerability and trust.

And Harley always feels okay and loved in her presence, never feels like she needs to cover up her body, because Ivy has and would never make jokes about her body (she's not him.)

And Ivy's affection and sometimes shy nature when it comes to that direct deceleration is always evened out by the connected plants easy nature to show exactly how she's feeling. Like,, If she feels nervous about holding Harley's hand, well she better get on it because those pretty ferns that look purple and blue in the right light will not stop wrapping around her and tickling Harley's palms.

Even in the night, they'll wake up curled together, most of the time in the spooning position, but Harley always has a little visitor or two attempting to warm her alongside Ivy. It makes Ivy flush every time as she wills them away, but Harley loves it and she treasures the fact that Ivy trusts her so much, and loves her so deeply that her connection to the plant life around them is tuned in to the sheer overwhelming emotion she feels towards and about Harley every time she lays eyes on her silly little clown.

Harley wouldn't mention it, but she'd know. She is trained to notice those things 💞

Like, y'all, I am totally a-okay sobs hysterically

[arty-cakes]

i finally got around to centaurworld's finale and holy fucking shit??? they can go that hard??

[gloriousmonsters]

'which hazbin character do you think least/most deserves Hell' well personally i think we're coming at this story from fundamentally different angles

[steviescrystals]

i’m fr gonna lose my mind :)

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[reddyletter]

you aren't fucking tim key

...yet.

[oblivious-aro]

Middle school teachers are on the worst fucking power trips, I swear.

Kids have it rough these days

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Summoning Failed Successfully

Imagine a warehouse. Imagine a bunch of cultists in dark robes with all the candles, daggers, ancient books, and chanting. Now add Danny.

Only not as the summoned being, no. As a sacrifice.

He is sitting down, tied to a chair, in the middle of the summoning circle, looking as bored and deadpan as he can possibly be. The cultists are chanting, and he frowns, listening to their chants for a moment.

"Hey, is that Latin?" He questions, but to no avail, "You know you're not actually using those words correctly, right?"

"Keep quiet, child!" One of the cultists snaps. Danny leans back in his chair and shrugs.

"I'm just saying, you ain't summoning shit with wrong grammar," he huffs, seemingly absolutely nonchalant about the whole thing. Oracle, who is watching the whole ordeal through the surveillance cameras, raises her eyebrows. Red Robin and Robin are already en route to the building the cultists chose for their extracurricular activities, but now she almost wants to watch this a bit longer.

Gothamites are pretty used to all kinds of shitshows, but this boy is from out of town. She checked him through facial recognition. Daniel Fenton, a transfer student from Amity Park, Illinois.

A few more cultists stop chanting and turn to Danny.

"Do you know Latin?" One of them asks, and the boy makes a half-nod, making a thoughtful face.

"Not fluently, but, like, it's a dead language, I felt kinda obligated to learn it. Just for the meme, you know?" He chuckles.

The cultists, judging by their confused silence, don't know. Barbara doesn't know what he's talking about, either. But she is almost curious now, so she taps Robin's and RR's comm lines:

"RR, Robin, when you arrive, don't jump into the scene," she asks.

"Understood," Tim answers immediately, but Damian, of course, demands explanations:

"Is there an obstacle?"

"Not really," Barbara humms, "The sacrifice is in the process of de-escalating the situation."

She can almost hear the questioning silence over the comm, but, thankfully, no one argues. Meanwhile, one of the cultists pipes up, voice full of doubt:

"So, you can... like, proofread our incantation?"

"Yeah, sure," Danny nods, apparently fine with being sacrificed, "Who you're trying to summon anyway?"

"Satan," that same cultist answers, and Danny laughs approvingly.

"Classic," he nods and smiles, "I'll give you this. The circle is mostly alright, so you don't need an incantation to summon the fucker, I have him on speed dial." And with that, he leans forward, screaming towards the floor: "Ey, Satan!"

Barbara must say the act was actually convincing, but he went a little overboard with it now. She reaches to tell both Robins to get in, but suddenly, a loud, booming voice reverberates through the building.

"The fuck do you want, kid?"

Cultists fall to their knees - it doesn't seem like an act of worship, more like their knees bucking. The whole circle dimly lights up in red, smoke raising from it.

"Do you see this shit, Oracle?" Red Robin questions, and she mhm's at him, not sure what else to say. If this is still an act or a trick, she must say it's a very good one. Although somehow she suspects it's not a trick. She's seen enough magic in her life to tell the difference.

"Do you want to come to Earth, be gay and do crimes?" Danny asks, almost mockingly.

"Fuck off."

The red light flickers and disappears, and Danny looks back up to cultists, grinning cheerfully.

"Welp, looks like he doesn't wanna," the kid concludes and stands up from his chair. Barbara hadn't seen when or how he got out of his bindings.

The cultists just watch him walk out of the circle in bewilderment.

"Pursue?" Robin's voice comes over the comms, and Barbara thinks for a moment.

"I get a feeling like that's a bad idea," Tim mutters over his line.

Barbara agrees.

[valeriehalla]

actual writing advice

1. Use the passive voice.

What? What are you talking about, “don’t use the passive voice”? Are you feeling okay? Who told you that? Come on, let’s you and me go to their house and beat them with golf clubs. It’s just grammar. English is full of grammar: you should go ahead and use all of it whenever you want, on account of English is the language you’re writing in.

2. Use adverbs.

Now hang on. What are you even saying to me? Don’t use adverbs? My guy, that is an entire part of speech. That’s, like—that’s gotta be at least 20% of the dictionary. I don’t know who told you not to use adverbs, but you should definitely throw them into the Columbia river.

3. There’s no such thing as “filler”.

Buddy, “filler” is what we called the episodes of Dragon Ball Z where Goku wasn’t blasting Frieza because the anime was in production before Akira Toriyama had written the part where Goku blasts Frieza. Outside of this extremely specific context, “filler” does not exist. Just because a scene wouldn’t make it into the Wikipedia synopsis of your story’s plot doesn’t mean it isn’t important to your story. This is why “plot” and “story” are different words!

4. okay, now that I’ve snared you in my trap—and I know you don’t want to hear this—but orthography actually does kind of matter

First of all, a lot of what you think of as “grammar” is actually orthography. Should I put a comma here? How do I spell this word in this context? These are questions of orthography (which is a fancy Greek word meaning “correct-writing”). In fact, most of the “grammar questions” you’ll see posted online pertain to orthography; this number probably doubles in spaces for writers specifically.

If you’re a native speaker of English, your grammar is probably flawless and unremarkable for the purposes of writing prose. Instead, orthography refers to the set rules governing spelling, punctuation, and whitespace. There are a few things you should know about orthography:

English has no single orthography. You already know spelling and punctuation differ from country to country, but did you know it can even differ from publisher to publisher? Some newspapers will set parenthetical statements apart with em dashes—like this, with no spaces—while others will use slightly shorter dashes – like this, with spaces – to name just one example.

Orthography is boring, and nobody cares about it or knows what it is. For most readers, orthography is “invisible”. Readers pay attention to the words on a page, not the paper itself; in much the same way, readers pay attention to the meaning of a text and not the orthography, which exists only to convey that meaning.

That doesn’t mean it’s not important. Actually, that means it’s of the utmost importance. Because orthography can only be invisible if it meets the reader’s expectations.

You need to learn how to format dialogue into paragraphs. You need to learn when to end a quote with a comma versus a period. You need to learn how to use apostrophes, colons and semicolons. You need to learn these things not so you can win meaningless brownie points from your English teacher for having “Good Grammar”, but so that your prose looks like other prose the reader has consumed.

If you printed a novel on purple paper, you’d have the reader wondering: why purple? Then they’d be focusing on the paper and not the words on it. And you probably don’t want that! So it goes with orthography: whenever you deviate from standard practices, you force the reader to work out in their head whether that deviation was intentional or a mistake. Too much of that can destroy the flow of reading and prevent the reader from getting immersed.

You may chafe at this idea. You may think these “rules” are confusing and arbitrary. You’re correct to think that. They’re made the fuck up! What matters is that they were made the fuck up collaboratively, by thousands of writers over hundreds of years. Whether you like it or not, you are part of that collaboration: you’re not the first person to write prose, and you can’t expect yours to be the first prose your readers have ever read.

That doesn’t mean “never break the rules”, mind you. Once you’ve gotten comfortable with English orthography, then you are free to break it as you please. Knowing what’s expected gives you the power to do unexpected things on purpose. And that’s the really cool shit.

5. You’re allowed to say the boobs were big if the story is about how big the boobs were

Nobody is saying this. Only I am brave enough to say it.

Well, bye!

[lovelybucky1]

Ain’t as Good as I Once Was

warnings: old man!logan x AFAB!reader, riding, bratting, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, age gap, punishment, degradation, 18+ minors dni, divider from @strangergraphics

“C’mon, girlie, if you want it, you’re gonna have to take it yourself,” Logan’s gruff voice says from below you.

You’re sitting on his lap, trying desperately to fuck yourself on his cock as he sigs back and watches you. Despite your begging, Logan refuses to do the work for you.

“I’m too old for this shit. If you’re that fuckin’ horny, you can take care of it yourself,” he told you smugly.

You sank down on his cock and have been trying to bounce on it, but the strain on your thighs is too much to reach a satisfying pace.

“Please, Daddy, can’t you just fuck me?” you whine pathetically. Logan smirks a bit and chuckles through his nose.

“I ain’t as good as I once was, dollface. I doubt my old bones can fuck you the way you want me to,” he says, not seeming apologetic in the slightest.

You know he’s full of shit. He may be old and gray, but his healing factor keeps him in peak condition. He’d be able to fuck you just fine, he’s just a crotchety old man who wants to see you suffer for his entertainment.

He places a large hand on your hip and starts gently guiding you, urging you to rock back and forth. You follow his movements and while it’s better than what you were attempting, it’s still not what you want.

“You’re a spoiled fuckin’ princess, that’s the problem. So used to Daddy takin’ care of ya, you forgot how to ride, is that it?” Shamelessly you bite your lip and nod.

You wouldn’t call yourself spoiled. Well cared for is a better term. Logan never lets his girl go to bed unsatisfied, and now he’s suffering from the consequences of his actions.

“C’mon, flip me over and fuck me,” you say.

Logan raises an eyebrow at you.

“Who do you think you are, givin’ orders? If I want you to ride my cock, then that’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna fuck that pretty pussy with it until she’s had her fill.”

Logan lets go of your hip but you keep up with the same pace he set. With his hand now freed, he reaches over to the nightstand to grab his cigar and lighter. He lights up and smokes it as if he were at the bar, not in bed, deep inside his girl.

He looks up at you, bored, as smoke pours out of his mouth. You’ve been riding the edge of just enough for the past fifteen minutes and you’re getting increasingly frustrated with Logan’s lack of help. You briefly consider being more of a brat in hopes of egging him on enough to punish you with a hard fuck, but with the kind of mood he’s in, it’s likely that the punishment would be stopping entirely.

You let your head hang down as you brace yourself with your hands on his chest. The solid muscle covered in gray hair is hot, unnaturally so, under your touch and you desperately want to feel that heat on your back while he fucks you from behind.

“Daddy,” you plead quietly.

“What’s the matter, dollface?” he asks, playing dumb like the tease he is.

“I can’t do it.”

Logan smirks around his cigar like you just said the magic words he’s been waiting to hear this whole time.

“What’re you saying?”

You pout down at him. “I can’t make myself cum. I need you to do it for me”

Logan, surprisingly, grins at you. “Bet you regret calling me an old man now, huh?”

You furrow your brows in confusion, but you quickly realize what he’s talking about. Before this all started, you pounced on his lap and asked him to fuck you. He told you he was busy reading his book, and in your usual bratty fashion, you replied, “What, you can’t get it up, old man?”

“I didn’t mean it, Daddy,” you whine. “I swear, I was just teasing you.”

Logan hums but makes no effort to move. “Guess you better start behaving if you want something from me.”

“I promise I’ll be good. I won’t talk back anymore,” you attempt to bargain.

You both know that’s about as empty of a promise as you could give, but Logan doesn’t seem to care. He prefers when you’re trouble anyway; it’s the game you play. He’s the grumpy and mean and you’re the spoiled, demanding princess.

Logan stubs his cigar out in the ashtray on the nightstand and places both hands on your hips. He lifts you off of him with ease, something that never fails to amaze you, and sets you on the bed next to him.

He moves so he’s kneeling between your legs and holding them up around his waist, his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Spoiled fuckin’ rotten, you are,” he mutters as he pushes inside.

Logan always makes sure his girl goes to bed satisfied, no matter how much of a brat she is.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: angst, toxic traits, somewhat bullying, breakup

fem reader

You’re his first girlfriend. He’d never bothered with anything serious before—it seemed too messy to trifle with. He doesn’t know why he suddenly decided. Suppose he’d been feeling a little bored, and something within him saw you as a fool-proof opportunity.

It wasn’t because you were anything special. Actually, it was more the opposite. You didn’t seem like too big of a risk. You were just a normal, honest, nice person—a bit of a loser, too, if he was being honest. He could do a lot better and pick someone of the same caliber as him, someone with a cooler style and presence, but then he’d only get caught up in the competition.

You were more to his appetite—a dorky, blushy lil’ nerd who giggled nervously at everything he said. In other words, no competition at all. You’d never dare break his heart because you frankly couldn’t afford it. And he found solace in that imbalance—knowing he held all the cards and that you could only be grateful he’d chosen you.

At least, that had been what he’d thought. But then, here you are, holding his hands from across the table in a cute little sundae café, telling him how this just can’t work anymore.

He’s confused for a whole minute before it sinks in.

You’re breaking up with him.

He’s confused afterward, too.

You’re breaking up with him?

That can’t be right. You must be joking. He almost laughs, almost cackles, but ends up staying completely silent. Something about that pitiful look in your eye makes his throat tight, and he almost thinks he’s going to cry instead. 

You’re breaking up with him. You, with him. His foot starts to tap. Have you hit your head or something? You’re dressed in a hoodie, for crying out loud, with not an ounce of make-up on—effortless, as if his perception of you wasn’t any of your concern while you’re fucking breaking up with him.

No way. There’s just no way. You must be confused about something, is all. There’s absolutely no way you’re doing this.

“What are you talking about?” It comes angry. Louder than he’d intended, enough to make you jolt in your seat. A couple of heads even turn your way. You wait for them to turn back before answering.

“I just think we’re a bit too different. And… I don’t know…” You were trying to find ways of telling him you weren’t in love with him but ended up deciding it was unnecessary—it wasn’t exactly something he needed to hear even though you had a lot you could say.

You’re rude and arrogant and treat me like some rescue pet you’ve nurtured back to health. You act like you’re embarrassed to be with me even though you’re the one without any friends. You’re selfish and spoiled and—

“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing to talk about. Quit being silly.” He has a furrow between his brows as he picks up the pink menu between the two of you, scanning the different types of milkshakes you could share and forget all about it. After all, you weren’t breaking up with him—that would just be absurd. “Let’s get strawberry.”

“No—”

“Guess we could get mango if you want that instead—”

“I’m not sharing drinks with you—”

“What? You tryna lose weight or something? Not like anyone but me is gonna see you when all you wear are those baggy hoodies all the time. Speaking of which, you should wear mine instead, they’d suit you better—”

“Listen.” You stop his rambling. “I’m not sharing drinks, and I’m not wearing your clothes. I’m not being silly, either. I’m being serious. It’s over—”

“No, it’s not.” His fist bangs against the table—the look in his eye on edge and twitchy. “I asked you why, and you had no good reason—so it’s not, not until you convince me.”

You had wanted to avoid it, but it seems he wouldn’t allow you the grace to spare him. That being said, you hadn’t meant to be so brutally honest…

“You’re a narcissist. You don’t treat me like a girlfriend. I’m more like a charity case or some type of experiment to you. Half the time, it feels as though you’re just playing a game with everyone in your life like pawns for you to shuffle around the board as you see fit.” You’re the one with the furrowed brows now, unable to bite your tongue as you’d kept it in all this time. “I think you should seek help and get your controlling tendencies straightened out before having any type of relationship. Or don’t. In any case, I don’t think I’m the right girl for you.”

There’s a silence. The chatter of the café seems distant. You feel half inclined to apologize as you look at him and stare down the glassy tabletop as if trying to find his reflection for comfort—but then he beats you to the punch.

“You’re right…” he starts softly, mustering the words, and you’re almost proud to see him take it so well, but then there’s a viscousness to his next words. “You’re not the right girl for me.”

When he looks up again, his face is warped—callous and seemingly disgusted by the sight of you. Something about it even seems to lash out at you, seeking revenge.

“I can’t believe I thought I saw something in you,” he sighs. “Turns out you’re exactly what everyone warned me you would be—just a plane-boring old Jane. What a joke—wasting so much time on something so worthless. Forget breaking up with me, I should have broken up with you a long time ago.”

He gets up in a rush and bears over the table, both palms laid flat upon the surface.

“Charity case?” he seethes, then conjures a fake laugh and an even faker grin. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Enjoy sitting here alone like the loser you are.”

And even though you’re the one watching him walk away while ordering a chocolate sundae for yourself, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy… 

That had been the most emotion you’d ever witnessed come from him.

Obviously, he doesn’t take it very well, stumbling through the café before bursting out the door, but even he’s surprised by how disheveled it had made him. He’s hyperventilating when the fresh air hits him, almost sprinting to his car so that he can lock himself inside it.

But the car only makes it worse as he’s far from alone in there. You’re everywhere. On the hood, waiting for him with a smile. In the rearview mirror, waving at him. In the seat next to him with a pout, asking if you can stay over. In the backseat, naked with a coy twinkle in your eye.

He knows! He has some of your underwear at home—he’ll threaten to pass them around campus unless you beg him to take you back. No, what’s he thinking!? You’ll never come back to him that way. Fuck, what can he do, what’s he supposed to do!? He just called you worthless—what that fuck was he thinking?!

The tears startle him as they drip down and splash upon his whitening knuckles, where he grips the wheel for dear life even as the car stays completely still—safe and sound in the same plot.

There’s a light pink lip balm on the dash. Yours. You must have left it there—maybe on purpose? No… you don’t play games like that. You’d been honest in the café. The fact terrifies him—his heart seems to want to reject it at all costs, the way it tears in his chest.

He picks the slim pink stick up and rolls it around in his hand, which can’t seem to stop shaking. You’d sat on his lap in this very seat, laughing at something dumb he’d said while applying the very same balm on his lip—kissing his forehead while saying something sweet. He knows it wasn’t, but he imagines you’d whispered that you loved him.

When he smears the balm around his lips this time, he imagines kissing you and your soft lips and that everpresent smile he never bothered telling you was pretty.

He’s such an idiot. The birds in the parking lot take flight at the jostling of his car, but no one hears the roar.

And as he sits there in the following silence, wallowing in his own self-pity and regret, he can’t help but feel like the lead of some angsty teen romance.

And like the lead in an angsty teen romance, he swears… whatever it takes… he will win you back.

You will be his again.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Gojo, Naoya, some young type of Sukuna, or Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[shrimpybbq]

so I was reading one of ur high school gf au posts and what about after a fun night with rafe and his back is all red and scratched up bc of ur night together and maybe some teasing rafe from the guys

“rafe wandering around the house with his shirt off, forgetting about the red scratch marks down his back - he just makes her feel so good she can't help it. he only smirks if anyone comments”

oh this is so yummy bc you know rafe is wandering around the pool, maybe a little bit drunk and the sun starts to come out. he just wants to feel the sun on his skin and so he takes his shirt off, only to hear whoops and hollers from kelce and topper. he’s so confused, which the boys understand from his expression, so topper decides to help him out a bit.

“good night, huh rafe?”

at that, rafe became even more confused. good night? it was just a normal night for him, wasn’t it? kelce takes the opportunity to join in, loving the opportunity to tease his friend for once.

“man, you look like you got attacked or some shit! bro, your back is raw,” he exclaims.

oh yeah, that’s what he was up to last night, rafe recalls to himself. so what he has a healthy sex life, he thinks. he makes his girl feel good, enough that she can’t contain herself. really, the scratch marks are the tame side. usually, he prefers her to bite into his shoulder if she can’t take it, loving the way she clings to him like a lifeline as she cums, but she still seems to enjoy dragging her nails down his back more often than not.

“haha, very funny. you losers are just jealous because you’re not getting any, huh?” rafe retorted. he couldn’t hide the smirk on his face, always pleased to know how good he made his girl feel. the smug grin he was known for shone brightly to his friends.

“oh i’m getting some, but you - i see why you’ve got two kids man, you’re giving it to her good!” kelce continued, his tone growing more sleazy as he looked to gain a bigger reaction out of rafe, “you fuck her like a whore all the time or what man? she’s scratchi-”

rafe saw topper turn to kelce, trying to intervene before rafe could wreak havoc but he was too late. rafe had crossed over to where kelce sat, gripping the chain around his neck tightly. he was face to face with the younger boy now, furious gaze boring into his skull.

“you keep your fuckin’ mouth shut, ok kelce? you don’t talk about her like that or you’re gonna be running home to your mom with a broken fucking jaw,” rafe spat, his voice low and filled with unbridled contempt, “you understand?”

“yeah shit man, sorry. my bad, i won’t do it again.”

“good,” rafe said, delivering a mocking pat to kelce’s cheek as he returned to stand. he faced the pool for a moment before diving in, the refreshing water soothing his anger. as he was underwater, topper shot kelce a look - everyone knew not to talk about rafe’s girl like that, and now, kelce had been reminded exactly why. as kelce shot back a confused look, topper could only slump back on his recliner, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth. rafe was a lover boy at heart, but he was still hot headed and dangerous when he wanted to be - and today they were reminded of that.

I got a bit carried away with this but I hope you like it! Rafe is such a simp and he wouldn’t stand for anyone, even his friends, badmouthing his girl.