#peachy-inserts

[suneeater]

we need more solomon asks i think... were running out... probably lucifer and diavolo too just to be safe (tumblr deactivates ur account if you dont send stuff in)

#obey me x reader #diavolo x reader #solomon x reader #soloman x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me hc #suneeater #peachy-inserts #jo #sun.r

[peachyspaceslvt]

Pretty When You Cry

Tangerine x fem!reader

read it ao3

summary: Tangerine has a tendency of dropping back into your life at the most unexpected times. An incredibly frustrating habit, considering your efforts to forget him after you woke up to find him gone the first time you slept with him. No matter how hard you try to let him go - and how hard he tries to avoid his own feelings - something always brings the two of you back to each other.

word count: 6.2k

warnings: canon-typical violence, no use of y/n, smut (minors DNI), p in v sex, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, excessive use of the word fuck, porn with a little plot

a/n: reuploaded bc i accidentally deleted the original post ahasdhagd :,) - this started out as an idea I had been sitting on for a while, but I gave up fighting the itch in my brain to write for Tangerine. I may take the concept and expand on the story with a series, but for now enjoy some good ol' smut.

You step into the warm night air, the loud music of the club becoming muted by the walls. Your head spins as you lean against the brick. You’re burning up and the fresh air is a pleasant change from the thick, hot air inside. Sighing, you pull out a box of cigarettes and place one between your lips. You fumble with the lighter for a moment before you light the cigarette. You don’t usually smoke, but fuck you were feeling stressed. You’d finally agreed to go out with your coworker Carter, who’d been pestering you for a date for a while now. You thought it might be a good way to get your mind off of someone else. Unfortunately, you hadn’t expected him to bring you to a loud-ass club for a first date.

As you take a drag, the smoke swirls inside your lungs, making you feel light and dizzy. You tilt your head back against the wall and close your eyes as you exhale the musty cloud of smoke. You could feel the edge melting away from your nerves.

“Those things will kill you, ya know.” A familiar voice appears beside you.

“Fuck!” you jump, dropping the cigarette on the ground. You look up to see an even more familiar pair of eyes. Tangerine stands before you, arms crossed as he fixes you with a look that you don't recognize. He’s uncharacteristically dressed down tonight, wearing only dark gray slacks with a white button-up, the sleeves already rolled up. You try not to let your gaze linger on his tattooed arms. Why is he here? You were doing your absolute best to get him off your fucking mind, and yet here he is.

“What the fuck brings you here?” He slurs. The smell of alcohol on his breath is strong and it catches you by surprise. You’ve never really seen him drunk. Not like this, at least. 

“I could ask you the same fucking thing,” you shoot back. He has a lot of audacity to show up here. You would be shocked at his ability to track you down had you not known just who he was. He has his ways, not to mention an incredibly frustrating tendency to end up in the same places as you. 

“I thought you didn’t smoke,” he asks with a quirk of his brow.

“I don’t,” you reply flatly.

“Then what was that?” He points to the still-smoking cigarette you dropped.

“A distraction, maybe,” you mumble, leaning your head back against the wall. “You’re drunk, Tan, drunker than me.”

Tangerine laughs and runs a hand through his slick curls. “What are you runnin’ from, love?” His demeanor softens and he turns to lean on the wall beside you. Even now you still feel so small under his gaze.

“Oh fuck off,” you groan back. He chuckles again and you feel agitation stir within you.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He really is drunker than you.

“Why do you have so many fucking questions?” you snap. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Got another?” He motions to the cigarette on the ground.

“What happened to ‘those things will kill you’,” you mock his words from earlier as you pull another from the box for him.

“You might not smoke, love,” He says in a low voice as he places the cigarette between his lips, “but you know that isn’t the case for me.” He dips down slightly so you can light it for him, something you’ve done many times before. The close proximity of his face to yours sets off alarms in your brain. As you flick the lighter, his eyes shift up to yours and his cerulean gaze bores into you, making your skin prickle as you stand under his large frame. When the cigarette is finally lit, he straightens back up to lean on the wall. You watch as he takes a long drag before taking the cigarette between his ring-clad fingers and exhaling the smoke. Silence fills the space between you, only the sound of the music thumping inside can be heard. After a moment, you push yourself off of the wall and turn to walk back inside, trying not to stumble as you make your way to the door.

 “Where are you going?” you feel his large hand wrap around your wrist and pull you back towards him.

“Well, you made me drop my cigarette, Tangerine. I don’t have any reason to be out here now,” you tell him, refusing to look at him. “Carter is probably wondering where I am anyway.”

“Don’t.” The tone of his voice causes you to falter. It’s unfamiliar, something you can't place. Not quite demanding, but not quite begging. 

“I’m just going inside,” you huff and pull your wrist from his grip. Just as you turn to walk away again, his arm wraps around you and pulls you to his chest. You reach for his biceps to steady yourself. “Tan. You’re drunk,” you whispered.

“So are you.” His voice is raspy in your ear. You hesitate for a moment as you search his face. You couldn’t do this again, but god damn was it difficult to pull yourself away. Ultimately, you follow your better judgment as your hands come up to his chest and gently push him from you. He stays silent, watching as you turn back towards the door and head inside. The blaring music takes over once again as you push through the bodies and to the bar. Tangerine’s words echo in your mind as you take a seat. You sigh.

“Can I get you anything?” The bartender asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Double vodka cran.” He nods and busies himself with your drink.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Tangerine’s voice comes from behind you. You roll your eyes.

“You think you can go five minutes without questioning my decisions?” you retort. Tangerine chuckles again, taking the seat next to you. “I’m trying to fucking enjoy myself.” He doesn’t reply, instead ordering himself a drink when the bartender brings yours over.

“Hey!” Oh fuck. You hear Carter’s voice and look up to see him getting up from a table and heading in your direction. Running into Tangerine on your little smoke break has caused you to nearly forget that you even came here with him and you feel a bit guilty as he approaches the bar. “I thought I’d lost you for a moment th-” He stops when he notices Tangerine. “Is he bothering you?”

“No, we were just talking. I know him. It’s fine.” you wave your hand dismissively and take a sip of your drink, feeling the alcohol burn your throat.

“Yeah I know you do, he’s the fuckin’ asshole from the party.” Of course he remembers, Tangerine wasn’t even supposed to be there that night. He and Lemon had barged back into your life again, asking you to help sneak them into some fancy party that your job was catering for. You’d dressed them up as waiters and gotten them inside to do god knows what. Carter was none the wiser, assuming they were simply extra hands hired for the event. Until, of course, Tangerine’s inability to keep his mouth shut nearly started a fight with Carter. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” Carter says, putting a hand on your back. The gesture sends icicles up your spine and you fight the urge to recoil under his touch.

“What? No, I said it was fine.” You look up at him, furrowing your brow a bit.

“And I said let’s go, don’t make this difficult.” He says harshly. What the fuck.

“Excuse me?” you set your drink down.

“She doesn’t want to go,” By now Tangerine is standing up and putting himself between the two of you. Carter scoffs and rolls his eyes, taking your wrist in his hand.

“Fuck off,” he hisses at Tangerine. You try to snatch your wrist back, but his grip is stronger than you expected.

“I don’t have to go anywhere with you!” You’re raising your voice now. You can feel Tangerine’s anger brewing without even looking at him. He’s practicing excellent restraint right now, but you know him well enough to feel the anger rolling off of him. 

“Listen,” Carter starts, “I’m not going to sit here and let you whore around with every dude at this bar.” Before you can even fully register what he said, Tangerine’s fist is colliding with his jaw, knocking him back.

You stand up, your barstool falling over as you back away from the two men. Carter puts a hand to his jaw, looking up angrily at Tangerine before rushing forward and slamming him against the bar. Tangerine’s arm hits the drinks and sends them to shatter on the floor.

Carter draws back and punches Tangerine in the face, his other hand holding onto Tangerine’s collar. Tangerine grabs Carter’s shoulders, slamming his forehead into the other man’s nose. The sudden impact causes Carter to stumble back and Tangerine takes the opportunity to shift their position so that he’s the one holding Carter against the bar. His knuckles are white as he grips Carter’s shirt, his curls breaking loose from their slicked-back position and falling in his face as he rears back and punches him again. He punches him a third time, and a fourth, and a fifth…

“Tangerine! Stop, that’s enough!” you yell. By now people had noticed the fight. Two men quickly approach the three of you. Shit. One of them reaches Tangerine, who was now on his seventh punch, and pulls him off of Carter. The other one grabs Carter off the bar, his face bruised and bloody. You follow them as they drag the angry, panting men to the door.

“God dammit!” Carter yells as he recovers from being thrown outside. He lunges for Tangerine, who’s already prepared to catch Carter’s weight. He pivots them around, pinning Carter against the brick, his forearm pressing into his neck.

“Unless you’re not particularly fond of havin’ your arms attached to the rest of ya, I’d fuck right off if I were you,” he threatens in a low voice. He holds him there silently for a moment more, eyes wide and burning, waiting for a chance to make good on his threat. Carter finally nods, shoving Tangerine off of him and gathering himself up. 

“He’s fuckin’ crazy,” he says looking at you. “Fuck both of you.” He throws his hands up as he backs away for a moment, then turns to leave.

Tangerine watches him round the corner, waiting until he’s completely out of sight before turning back to you. 

You aren’t even sure how to process what just happened and you fight the tears threatening to well up in your eyes because you’re drunk and this isn’t how your night was supposed to go. 

“Are you alright, love?” Tangerine asks, hands grabbing your face gently. His thumb strokes over your cheekbone as he searches your eyes and gives you a slight once-over. You close your eyes and nod. “Let’s get out of here.” He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him as he leads you off toward his car without a glance back.

“I’m not mad,” you break the silence as you sit in the passenger seat of his car. He clenches his fists around the thin steering wheel, sobered by the fight and rush of adrenaline.

“I wasn’t going to let him get away with sayin’ some shit like that to you,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road.

“I know,” you say softly. 

“Why’d you even agree to go out with that prick anyway?” 

“I’d never heard him say anything like that before. He’s always so nice at work, or at least he seemed like it. He’d been interested for a while, but I kept brushing him off. I don’t know, it didn’t seem smart to go out with my coworker.” You know that part is a lie and you’re not sure if Tangerine sees through it because he doesn’t respond. “I finally just agreed because…” you pause, not wanting to tell him that the reason you agreed to go out with Carter was because you would have done anything to get Tangerine out of your brain, “it doesn’t matter.”

He looks over at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Well darling, you have absolutely awful taste in men,” he finally says in a playful tone that makes you laugh for the first time tonight.

“Do you think you could stop at a gas station? I need a drink or something,” You feel the fog beginning to clear from your head and you really don’t want to face the impending headache.

“Yeah, of course. Could use a pack of smokes anyway, rather than bummin’ ‘em off of you,” He says as he searches for a place to stop.

The hum of the engine comes to an abrupt stop and Tangerine pulls the keys from the ignition. He looks over at you. “You comin’?” He asks. You nod and give him a small smile before he exits the vehicle. Neon lights dance across the damp pavement and draw your attention to the flickering sign above the convenience store as you step out. You're surprised at the number of people at the store at such a late hour, and the way they lean against their cars and eye Tangerine suspiciously gives you an unsettled feeling. He looks rather disheveled and it doesn’t help that his knuckles are bloody and busted. You look like a mess as well you’re sure and there’s a bruise forming on your arm where Carter grabbed you. The jingle of a tiny bell snaps you out of your thoughts and you see that Tangerine is holding the door for you. You mumble a low “sorry” and he continues inside. The cool air hits you as you follow him quietly.

You head for the drinks in the back and swing open the cooler door. The chill air feels good on your flushed face and you take it in for a moment, taking a deep breath in your attempt to gather yourself. You settle on some flavored water. Closing the door, you make your way through the fluorescently lit aisles, back to Tangerine’s side. Your head is still swimming from the drinks but you can feel sobriety reaching through. You stand silently beside him in line until you hear someone clear their throat behind you. When you turn to look, a man is looking Tangerine up and down with a suspicious look. You know he’s noticed the bruise on your arm and the way your makeup has started to run.

“Are you good?” He asks quietly, trying not to draw Tangerine’s attention. He hears him anyway, but before he can open his mouth with a snarky reply, you answer.

“Yeah, I am now,” you say softly, leaning a bit closer to Tangerine as you shift your gaze up to him and offer a smile. He feels a swell of pride in his chest at your words, thankful that you beat him to speaking, since he would’ve just told the guy to fuck off and mind his business.

The two of you reach the front of the line and Tangerine takes your water from you, placing it on the counter. You observe the way he moves as he talks to the cashier, his gold pendant glinting against his chest almost obscenely, the way his muscles shift under his buttoned shirt as he reaches into his pocket for his wallet, how the lines around his eyes crinkle when he smiles and -

“You coming, love?” He asks you, pocketing a pack of Marlboro Reds and handing you your water as he reaches for the door handle. 

“Yeah, sorry,” you say and follow him out, hoping you don't appear as flustered as you feel. You don't see the beginnings of a smirk playing on his lips. You are once again greeted by the humid air but you don’t mind. There’s a lack of words between the two of you after what happened tonight and you can’t seem to tell if it’s good or bad. It frustrates you that you struggle so much to read him. What’s even more frustrating than that is how much it seems to get under your skin that you can’t. Since when did you care about trying to read people? Since you ended up in sketchy gas stations at almost four in the morning with a contract killer, you remind yourself.

“You’re being awfully quiet, darling.” Tangerine’s words catch you off guard as he starts the car again.

“I just… don’t have anything to say,” you shrug, watching him fumble with the radio. It’s true. You were desperate to get your mind off of him, but the night took an unexpected turn and now you're here. With him. He doesn’t say anything, instead opting to switch off the radio and turn around to back out of the parking space.

The city lights pass by in blurry gleams of color. There is truly no calm here, you think as life still bustles about despite the time of night. Your mind wanders back to Tangerine. The way he found his way to you still tonight. You know that none of it would have happened if he hadn't shown up, but you're glad nonetheless. Carter wasn't someone you wanted around, and truthfully you were never interested in him. You know, that despite being unwilling to actually admit it to yourself, a part of you hoped Tangerine would be jealous. You also know that given the circumstances, whatever it was you felt for Tangerine, wasn't realistic. It was stupid and you knew it. 

“Shit,” Tangerine’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look away from the window, "missed the bloody exit." The green of the exit sign illuminates his face as you pass under it, almost taunting him.

“Maybe you should pay more attention when you're driving,” you tease. He looks at you but doesn’t speak. It’s quiet the rest of the way back to your apartment. 

Tangerine pulls into a parking spot and turns off the car. You begin to thank him for the ride, expecting him to simply drop you off, but he gets out and heads towards the stairs.

“Walking me to the door? How sweet,” you say teasingly as you step out of the car.

“Jus' wanna make sure you're safe,” he mutters, looking past you. You only nod, understanding what he doesn't say. 

When you unlock the door, you stand quietly for a moment, not sure if he intends to leave or come inside. He looks at you with an unreadable expression before speaking.

“I guess I should be off then, I’m sure Lemon’s probably wonderin’ where the fuck I am right now.” You feel a twinge of disappointment but you nod, knowing it's best if he leaves.

“Thank you, for, well, you know. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s always a pleasure havin’ the opportunity to rough some bastard up a bit,” he jests.

“Of course it is. Goodnight Tangerine, thanks for getting me home.” You smile and shut the door the moment he turns to walk away, not wanting to watch him leave for another time.

You stand there with your hands on the door for a minute, your mind reeling with the events of the night as a flood of emotion hits you. First, a wave of affection for Tangerine, the way he leapt to your defense without a second thought. A pang of sadness follows, knowing you have fallen for a man with walls so high you’d never manage to scale them, a dangerously unhinged man that fell out of the fucking sky and right into your life. Then finally, anger washes over you. Anger for showing up tonight, when you just wanted to move on. Anger for leaving you to wake up alone after you fucked him, for making you fall in love with him all while knowing he’d keep you an arm’s length away. Anger that despite all of this, he just keeps showing back up in your life. In your heated frenzy, you reach for the door handle, hoping to catch him before he drives away, fully prepared to tell him off. You swing the door open but are taken completely by surprise to see Tangerine standing on the other side. He seems surprised too, not expecting you to fling open the door while he stood there still. 

“You been standing there like a fucking dickhead this entire time?” You ask, crossing your arms. He gives you a defeated look.

“Couldn’t bring myself to fuckin’ knock. Couldn’t bring myself to just fuckin’ walk away either.” You watch him for a moment before deciding he’s being sincere and step aside to usher him in.

“Why’d you even fucking show up tonight, Tan?” You demand, closing the door behind him. He exhales deeply, his back still to you. 

“I had no intention of showin’ up. I knew you were out with that tosser and the fuckin’ bottle got the best of me, darling. Next thing I know I’m gettin’ in the fuckin’ car because I couldn’t stand to think about you with that prick for one more fuckin’ second.” He finally turns to face you. His raw honesty is something new to you, usually, you’re left trying to piece what little bit he gives you together like some fucked up emotional jigsaw. 

“I should’ve never agreed to go out with him,” you admit, meeting his eyes. “I just,” you draw in a breath, “I couldn’t get you off of my goddamn mind. I thought if I went out with him, then it’d take my mind off of you.” Tangerine’s lips press into a thin line, the crease between his brows deepening as they knit together.

“And,” you say, taking a step forward, “there was a part of me that thought maybe,” you swallow thickly, embarrassment creeping up on you, “that maybe you’d be jealous, even.”

“Oh you’re playing a very dangerous game, sweetheart,” Tangerine murmurs, his demeanor shifting. “You’d be smart to move on, forget me and find someone perfectly ordinary bloke instead.” You stare up at him as he moves in closer to you. “But you’re too fuckin’ stubborn, you’d rather nearly get your coworker killed to try and fuckin’ get at me.” There’s a sinister edge to his voice that sends a shiver up your spine and you wonder if you should’ve even admitted that to him.

He grabs your chin with one hand and looks at you through half-lidded eyes. Your pulse quickens, but your anger hasn’t completely dissipated. 

“You’re the one who fuckin’ left in the middle of the night after you fucked me,” you spit back. His grip tightens and you swear you see the end of his mustache twitch.

“I did you a fuckin’ favor,” he hisses and lets you go. “You’ve got no business gettin’ tangled up with some fucked up bastard like me.” 

“So why do you keep showing back up? Why haven’t you fucked off for good then? You said I’m stubborn but you won’t let me move on.” You’re starting to raise your voice now, your emotions running hot. Everything you’ve felt since he walked into the little cafe you work at on that ordinary fucking Wednesday afternoon is now bubbling up to the surface. You turn from him, walking away toward the living area of your apartment but he catches your wrist, gently. 

“Because it turns out I just can’t get you the fuck off my mind either, love.” Your stomach is in knots, somehow both fluttering and sinking at the same time. “And maybe the thought of some fuckin’ asshole takin’ you home ate me the fuck up.” You stare at him, feeling weak under his burning stare. Emotion flashes across his face and he looks down in contemplation. You step closer to him again to close the distance.

“Is that what you wanted to hear? That you’ve fucked right with my head? Got me showin’ up to clubs off my fuckin’ face because the thought of anyone else havin’ ya makes me wanna put a bullet right through their skull.”

Your mouth is on his the second he stops speaking. His surprise fades quickly as his lips start to move against yours and you take him in. He tastes like vodka and cigarettes. He drops your wrist and wraps his arm around your waist. Your thoughts are consumed by him as you feel his tongue glide across your lower lip. Without a second thought, you let him in and your hands reach up to tangle in his curls. You run your tongue along the back of his teeth and he groans into your mouth. You wince slightly when he pulls away and trails his lips down your jaw.

“You make me fuckin’ insane, you know that?” He says between kisses.

“Show me,” you say breathlessly, biting back a moan when he nips the skin of your neck. 

He doesn’t waste a second backing you up to the couch. You collapse onto the cushiony fabric below the moment you feel it hit the back of your calves, pulling Tangerine down with you. He’s still leaving marks along your neck so you grab his face and redirect him to kiss you again, his mustache tickling your nose. Your hand ghosts over the bulge in his trousers and his hips buck into the palm of your hand. The sound he makes is so pretty it sends a flood of arousal straight between your legs.

He pulls away again and looks at you, lips wet and glistening. His hand reaches the waistband of your pants and he meets your gaze in search of approval. You give him his answer by grinding your hips against his hand.

“You’re eager, darling,” he says as he slips his hand below the elastic, “but I’m taking my time with you.” He runs a ringed finger through your folds. “Fuckin’ hell you’re already so wet for me baby.” You bite your lip and lift your hips in an attempt to remove your pants. He swats your hands away and pulls them down for you, followed by your panties, tossing them both aside. He sits back on the couch, drinking in the sight of you. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous thing you are,” he swears as he returns his attention to your cunt, gliding his fingers through your slick and gathering the wetness on them. His thumb rubs a tight circle around your clit and you instinctively try to press your thighs together. He grabs one of your thighs with his free hand and forces them apart, holding them in place with his forearm. His ring and middle fingers plunge into you, the sudden intrusion making you gasp. 

“Ah- Fuck, Tan-” You whimper as he curls his fingers inside of you, feeling the pleasure beginning to pool inside of you. He lowers himself so that he’s kneeling on the floor in front of the couch. He bites at the inside of your thigh, working his way down to your soaked heat as his fingers still pump deliciously in and out of you.

“You look so fuckin’ divine with my fingers inside you, love, need to taste you,” he mutters against your skin. Your hand flies to tangle in his curls when you feel his breath against your exposed cunt. He licks a single, flat-tongued stripe up your entrance stopping to swirl his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers are still working your pussy and you tighten your grip in his hair. He grunts when you tug on his curls, the vibration sending a shiver through you and causing you to buck your hips in response. His fingers dig into your thighs as he holds them apart still, fighting against your efforts to squeeze them shut. 

You feel your orgasm building up, chasing the sensation as you fuck yourself on his thick fingers. 

“Feels so good baby, gonna cum,” you manage between breaths, his fingers repeatedly pressing into your g-spot. He hums against your clit and the coil snaps. Your orgasm washes over you and you feel your walls spasm and tighten around his fingers. He doesn’t relent, still sucking and swirling his tongue around your clit, his fingers working you through the orgasm until you’re twitching from overstimulation. 

He pulls away, lips still glistening as he sits back and brings his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices off of them. You watch him, mesmerized at the sight. Then, he moves back to the couch, caging you underneath him as he shoves his fingers into your mouth. He watches you through lidded eyes as you swirl your tongue around them, tasting the metal of his rings.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he pants, removing his fingers. His pupils are blown and his hair is a tousled mess of curls, he looks so goddamn beautiful that it sends a sudden wave of affection through you, causing you to reach up to touch his cheek. He leans into your touch, dipping back down to catch your lips. His tongue slips back into your mouth and you feel his cock press against your thigh. You grind your hips up, reaching for his belt at the same time.

“Want you to fuck me,” you whisper as you break the kiss. He curses and pulls away to finish the job for you, discarding his belt and kicking off his trousers. He works at the buttons of his shirt languidly before shrugging it off and tossing it aside as well. You take the chance to pull your shirt over your head and unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor as Tangerine looks back up at you. He’s left in his briefs, his cock straining against the fabric as he moves to you once again. You reach for the elastic, freeing his cock and wrapping your fingers around him. He’s hot and heavy in your hand as you pump the velvety skin. 

“Thought you wanted me inside, darlin’,” he grunts as your hands glide over him. 

“Yes, need you.” You lean back onto the couch cushions, your legs spread. He kicks off his briefs and hovers over you, propping himself up on one elbow, the other hand taking his cock to line up with your entrance. He drops his head down to your ear, a growl vibrating through his chest as he bottoms out inside of you. The mild sting of him stretching you sends a surge of pleasure through you.

“Fuck, missed how you felt around my cock, love,” he huffs out. 

“So good, baby,” you moan, throwing your head back. The feeling of being filled by him is almost overwhelming. It doesn’t take long for him to find a steady pace, dragging his cock along your slick walls. You hook your legs around his waist and pull him to you. He growls when you dig your heels into his back, needing to feel him deeper. 

His rhythm picks up and he sinks back down, taking your nipple into his mouth. You gasp as he nips the sensitive skin, then swirls his tongue around it soothingly. Your hand finds purchase once more in his hair, the other clawing at his back as he splits you open on his cock, sinking into you repeatedly. He releases your nipple and licks a stripe between your breasts. 

“Tangerine,” you cry out his name when the blunt head of his cock hits your g-spot. “Fuck right there.”

“Look at you, my little fuckin’ cock-drunk slut,” he groans between thrusts. Suddenly you feel something cold hitting you in the face and you see his pendant dangling in front of you. It slaps obscenely against your cheek with every rut of his hips. You tilt your chin up, looking at Tangerine through your lashes as you take the gold charm between your teeth with a gentle tug on the chain. The gesture alone is enough to send him into a frenzy and he reaches a brutal pace, pistoning into you as he chases his own orgasm.

“You gonna come for me again, sweetheart?” He rasps, “I’m close.” He adds, reaching between the two of you to massage your clit. You choke back a moan, writhing beneath him. You manage to nod and he hits your g-spot again. Your back arches up from the cushions, your chest pressed to his. 

“That’s it, pretty, come on my cock. Wanna feel you squeezin’ me.” His words send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing into you blindingly. Your pussy clenches around his length and his name spills from your lips like a prayer as your walls flutter around him. His hips still rut into you at an unrelenting pace through your orgasm. 

You feel his cock twitch and know he’s not far behind you.

“Want you to cum inside me,” you breathe. His head snaps up to look at you, eyes wide and pupils blown with pleasure.

“Bloody hell,” he pants, “you’re fuckin’ filthy. Wantin’ me to fill you up, love.” His hips falter. “Anything you want. Anything for you.” He thrusts again, reaching even deeper this time. His mouth finds your shoulder and he bites down hard as he cums. You feel his cock twitching, painting your insides with his cum.

He collapses onto your chest after he empties himself, panting heavy breaths. You feel his heart hammering in his chest against your own. You lay in silence, your mind reeling as your breaths echo inside the room. After a moment he peels himself away from you, his gaze devotional as he takes in the state of you. Breath ragged, your chest heaving as his cum leaks from you.

“Why don’t we move to the bed, yeah?” He says, getting up and slipping his briefs back on. You hum in agreement, feeling completely blissed out. He disappears into the bathroom and you sit up, spotting his discarded shirt laying across the coffee table. You reach for it, pulling it over your shoulders and buttoning it halfway before heading into your bedroom.

Tangerine returns from the bathroom, coming into your room and stopping when he sees you sitting in his shirt. You smile at him from the bed, still feeling a bit like a tingly pile of jello. Affection blooms in his chest, a feeling that terrifies him each time it creeps up. He knows you deserve better than this, his entire lifestyle posing a risk to you. He really should just fuck off for good.

You watch Tangerine move to the bed, scooting over to him as he flops down beside you. He turns his head to look at you, and you take his hand, kissing his busted knuckles.

“You know, I didn’t tell you earlier,” you start. “If it wasn’t already clear.” He looks at you quizzically. “That I feel the same way, about you, I mean,” you finish.

“Yeah, pretty fuckin’ obvious,” He rolls his eyes, but you see him crack a smile before pulling you to him.

Excessive amounts of sweat on your body wake you up but a weight on your torso stops you from sitting up. You look down, just able to make out Tangerine’s head on your stomach and his arm draped across your body. You feel a wave of relief to find that he’s still here with you. It’s barely light outside but you can’t go back to sleep so you slide out from under Tangerine’s grip. He stirs slightly, grabs a pillow, and rolls onto his stomach with his brow furrowed and curls flying wildly about. You’re still soaked in sweat from the heat of Tangerine’s body pressed up against you all night and your hair is a filthy mess so you decide to take a shower.

You start the water and peek out of the bathroom to make sure he’s still asleep. You’re relieved to see he hasn’t moved so you close the door and step into the small shower. The hot water erases the grimy feeling of sweat and oil but you’re annoyed as thoughts from the previous night creep into your mind. You should probably be angry but you’re only slightly annoyed, which comes as no surprise. How can you be angry thinking about how he kissed his way down your body, how his teeth grazed the skin of your neck as he sank his cock into you, your name pouring from his lips as he spilled into you. Then you remember what he said before.

He loved you. You didn’t even know if he meant it. He didn’t leave this time, so that had to mean something, right? You couldn’t have expected the night to turn out the way it did, but it was certainly full of surprises.

You stay in the shower until the water runs cold and forces you out. You wrap a towel around yourself and exit the bathroom. When you step back into your room, Tangerine is nowhere to be found, and your heart plummets. But before you can dwell on it too much, you hear a loud noise in the kitchen. Startled, you quickly head to investigate.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” Tangerine greets you, standing at the stove with a frying pan in his hand. “How do you like your eggs?” The scene before you feels very domestic. His pants hang low on his hips, and he is very noticeably without a shirt. The sight of him in your kitchen, with messy curls and a dumb grin spreading across his face, makes your stomach flip.

You can’t help the smile that creeps onto your own face. Maybe, just maybe, he meant it after all.

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine smut #tangerine bullet train #tangerine #bullet train #tangerine fic #reader insert #peachys fics

[lex-n-weegie]

In honor of Mar10 day (and the fact LM2 HD is gonna release oN MY BIRTHDAY?!?!?!), here's how me and Luigi first met!

Fright at first sight

☆♡☆♡S/i uses any pronouns!♡☆♡☆

Art Taglist [pm or send an ask off anon if you’d like to be added or removed from my taglist]: @amessageonthewind, @nerdstreak, @eggsywifey, @swapthewoz, @queenieboo22, @little-miss-selfships, @little-bullheaded-shit

#lexi doodles #green warrior #lexi lockette #self insert #self insert x canon #selfship #selfshipping #self ship #self shipping #selfship community #self ship community #selfshipping community #self shipping community #mario s/i #mario self insert #leigi #peachy pal #wahoo bro #🍄⭐

[sbc-moved]

Told them if they wanted the finished comic so bad they could draw it themselves and I guess they really wanted it. (Original unfinished version under the cut

#my best friend peachy puppet of course #THIS IS KILLING ME #captain laserhawk #rayman laserhawk #captain laserhawk oc #oc x canon #self insert #self shipping #self ship art #selfship #♡.ink #♡.page #♡.not mine

[barsibatosbiggestfan]

Brighter Than the Sun

Arataki Itto x reader

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted but I recently found my own inspiration for cute fluffy stuff so I thought I would write something. Also Itto DEFINITELY talks in his sleep. Also probably snores a ton lol. I know this is short but at least it’s something 😭😭 I also did not edit this, I wrote it in the car and am immediately psoring it because otherwise I never will

Warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff

The sun is what first wakes you up. A strip of bright light falling through the crack of the curtains. You groan out of annoyance and are about to try to go back to sleep until you feel that hand tighten around your waist. That’s what really wakes you up, the rush of love and joy you feel at the reminder of him.

You turn around as gently as you can so you don’t wake him up. Your heart feels even more full as you look at his sleeping face. Most people will go their whole life without seeing an oni, let alone one asleep, yet that gets to be your view every morning. You gently stroke his hair and place a kiss on his forehead.

“I love you,” you whisper to your sleeping lover. All of the moments you have shared together rush through your mind. From the magic of your first kiss to the time you found out about his bean allergy by accidentally giving him soy milk. The Arataki gang became your family, but Itto became your whole world. You’re pulled out of your thoughts with the sudden movement of the man next to you. You watch as he’s still asleep but suddenly looks as he needs to say something.

“My onikabuto is bigger than your onikabuto,” Itto mumbles, his eyebrows scrunching in his sleep. You’re silent for a second before erupting in quiet giggles. You don’t know what else you expected but of course he’s dreaming about those beetles.

“Never change my love,” you say as you place multiple kisses across his forehead, cheeks, and finally a soft one on his lips. You watch him in admiration for awhile longer before snuggling back into his arms and falling back asleep feeling happier than ever.

#genshin impact #peachy writes #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #itto x reader #arataki x you #genshin fluff #fluff #reader insert #arataki itto

[reinabeestudio]

This started as 'what if he wore a jumpsuit while he works :]' but then evolved into a sleep-deprived Pizza Head and—wait bro where are you lookin at 🤨

#self insert #pizza tower #pizza head #my art #oh man idk if he says he's peachy then all good #i was very tired too while doing this. self-projection /j #someone give Miel the patience to not beat him up so he sleeps. DSKLMFKLS #(it's out of LOVE. kick his ass in the name of love) #Yomiel (sona)

[scarlettriot]

A Blanket of Stars

Pairing: Bakugo x Meg (( @meggsngrits ))

Warnings: Loads of Fluff

A/N: This piece is for the lovely Meg to thank you for her generous donation to @weebaboobs and her adorable pup, Peach! Thanks so much, and we hope you enjoy your date ❤️

WC: 769

So much of Katsuki’s life was on display for the entire world to see. People knew where he liked to go for his morning jogs, so he often switch up the route. He was always on the hunt for new coffee shops since the press seemed to know about his favorites. And, of course, everyone knew about you.

There was no way he could keep his relationship with you quiet because you were Dynamight’s girlfriend. He couldn’t blame the reporters for being nosy, even if he threatened to smash a camera a time or two. Damn, you were so much better at dealing with people than he was.

You were lovely, everything he never thought he’d get to have in his life. All the things he tried to push away and still so much more. You never complained about the crazy shifts he had to work or waking you at three in the morning because he finally had a chance to call you after 48 hours of being out of reach. You constantly reminded him that life didn’t need to be serious all the time, that he was actually allowed rest every once in a while. In fact, you started demanding it. 

Every other week, he had to plan something completely unwork related for the two of you to do, and on the opposite weeks, you chose. He’d already picked going to the book store as well as the arcade, but this week, he had even less patience than usual to deal with people. He didn’t want to be around a single other person, just you and him. And a perfect idea settled in his brain. 

“You haven’t told me what we’re doing today.” 

It was noon, both of you had been up for several hours already, and you were used to Katsuki laying out the day’s events for you over breakfast, but today he conveniently avoided the topic. 

“That’s right.” He was purposefully dodging. Glasses resting on his nose while he caught up on some reading. Your arms snaked over his shoulders, chin resting atop his blonde head. “Quit pouting.” 

“I’m not pouting!” 

He closed the book and tipped his head to look up at you. “I’ve got somethin’ planned, babe,” He brushed your brown hair back behind your ear, playfully flicking the tip of your glasses and kissed your cheek, “just gotta wait.” 

And wait you did. Through lunch, all afternoon, until dusk was painting the sky. You were just about to get up and bug your boyfriend again when he stepped out of the bedroom in jeans and a plain black shirt with both your jackets draped over his arm. “Well, ya ready?” 

You mumbled something about how he could’ve given you a little heads up, did you need to get changed, but he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Not necessary. Ya look great, Meg.” 

He held your hand all the way down to his car, holding your door open for you as he always did. And you noticed the picnic basket sitting in his backseat. “When did you–?”

“When you were doin’ all that laundry.” He answered and started the drive keeping the destination a secret, but soon the busy city was fading from view, buildings and homes getting further and further apart, and eventually, you were pulling into a national park. 

A short drive down a gravel road and Katsuki parked in one of the few spaces, grabbing the basket, blanket, and a lantern. He held his arm out for you to take. After a ten-minute walk down a footpath, you reached a clearing with a pond at its heart and a clear sky of stars just starting to wake overhead. 

“I just, I didn’t really wanna deal with–” He gestured widely while setting up the blanket, and you knew exactly what he meant, all those fuckin’ extras, “Hope that’s alright.” 

You had to reassure him that it was, and then a relaxed grin slid onto his stoic face. “Better be.” He chuckled and began unpacking the basket that held your favorite meal and drinks that you both enjoyed, and stashed at the bottom were a couple of card games or books to read if you preferred. 

But, after the delicious meal was eaten, you both laid back on the blanket, looking up at the perfect sky above. Your head rested on him, his fingers coasting up and down your arm. It took you a minute to realize that he wasn’t tracing random patterns into your skin, and it made you smile, rolling to look at him, “I love you too, Katsuki.”

A/N: With any luck, tumblr might like me and let this post! A massive thank you to Meg for putting up with the delay. If you're still waiting on yours, I am just waiting to hear back from the help desk or the reposts of them to finally go through. Thank you so very much for your donations ❤️

#mha fan fic #bnha fan fic #mha fluff #bakugo x self insert #bakugo fluff #lovely moots 💕 #let’s help peachy!

[sshoujo-ais]

happy pride month! i made it in time ^^

i didn't have the energy this year to do a big piece like i did back in 2020, so i just did this cute marching band dealie right here ^^ i feel like tumblr is going to kill the quality though.

flag-less version under the cut (and also in my blog header now :3)

#art tag #ship: dear winners #ship: caramel kisses #ship: gold rush #ship: peachy keen #ship: moonlight dancing #ship: marigold life #insert unified tag for ffxiv f/os here #selfship #selfship art #lgbt selfship

[peachships]

The Bounty Hunter and the Wanted Assassin, what a wonderful pair

#i was very in the mood of making aesthetics earlier today #you are my way #I'll think of a tag for my self insert eventually bxskhdskdb #peachy thoughts

[itfitsitshipsart]

being both nobility and a royal knight, this S/I is less of a damsel in distress and instead the protector.

Prince Bon needs the help after all.

#self ship #la peachy prince 💜🦚 #self insert

[peachyspaceslvt]

The Blood That Spills Over

Tangerine x f!reader

cross-posted on ao3

summary: You see the way he looks at the gnarled skin on his neck in the mirror. It’s a reminder of his own mortality. The fragility of life and how quickly it can be ripped away. He’s angry at himself, for almost dying. Almost leaving you.

You never touched it, you avoided even looking at it because it was a reminder for you too. A reminder that you nearly lost him.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, injury, smut (minors DNI), no use of y/n, p in v sex, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, blood kink sorta??

a/n: I woke up wanting to write some angst about Tangerine getting shot/having a scar and it evolved into this. I hope you enjoy the absolute filth it turned into.

You had never felt fear as paralyzing and heart-wrenching as you had when you thought you were going to lose Tangerine. You had never seen blood pour out of a person the way that it had from him that day. The crimson liquid stained your skin and clothes as it cascaded through your fingers in your attempts to stop it. The desperate pleas falling from your lips were drowned out by the violent thundering of your own heartbeat, racing with adrenaline. 

And by some fucking miracle, by the grace of whatever omnipotent power may have resided above you, he survived, the bullet narrowly missing a major artery. 

That was three months ago now but the events of that day still hang over you both like a heavy, suffocating blanket. Tangerine wakes you up in the nights screaming and thrashing, plagued by nightmares. You don’t tell him, but so are you. Images of the blood welling up between your fingers, washing over you both. Lemon has to drag you away from Tangerine’s body. 

No, you don’t tell him. You see the way he looks at the gnarled skin on his neck in the mirror. It’s a reminder of his own mortality. The fragility of life and how quickly it can be ripped away. He’s angry at himself, for almost dying. Almost leaving you. 

Sometimes he wonders if that’s what kept him here. The thought of leaving you alone being some sort of fucked up saving grace. He remembers what an absolute vision you were when he finally came to after it happened. Haloed in light, clinging to him like you were terrified to let go. 

His fingers brush over the angry-looking scar. You never touched it, you avoided even looking at it because it was a reminder for you too. A reminder that you nearly lost him. 

You had never felt a love that consumed you the way that your love for Tangerine did. It was intense and it terrified you down to the bone. When he fucked you it felt like something akin to what you imagine experiencing religious ecstasy must be like. It made you feel truly depraved, he had ruined you and you knew in his twisted mind that he got off on knowing no one could hold a candle to how brightly you burned for him. 

And although you hadn’t lost him, the possibility of it had rattled you down to your very core. 

The two of you have attempted to regain some normalcy back in your lives. If you could have even called it that before anyway. You return to a regular office job, as if your for-hire assassin lover didn’t nearly die right before you on a blundered, set-up mission merely months ago. You come home, make dinner, pretend to be content with the domesticity of it all. 

The most fucked up part of it all was that despite everything, Tangerine was itching to go back to work with Lemon again. Who were you to stop him? He’d been this way before you, before getting shot in the fucking neck, if that didn’t change him what would? He promised he’d take low-risk jobs, and do everything in his power to be safe and careful. You trusted him, and you trusted Lemon. They looked out for each other. You know Lemon took almost losing Tangerine harder than you did, even if he didn’t show it. He would keep him safe. 

So, you let him. 

Right now you’re sitting in your tiny living room, busying yourself the best you can. Tangerine left for a job two days ago. So here you are waiting, helplessly, doing your best to keep yourself from worrying. The sun is low in the sky, bathing your apartment in golden hues. Music hums rhythmically in the background as you tap away on your laptop. You’ve distracted yourself so well, in fact, that you don’t even hear the rattling of keys unlocking the front door or Tangerine’s heavy footsteps through the foyer. 

“Hello, darling.” You jump at the sound of his voice and turn to look at him.

There’s a rather nasty gash on his cheek and his lip is busted. He’s holding his arm with one hand, the other holding a ratty duffel bag. His hair looks as if he poorly attempted to fix it right before coming inside. He’s breathing heavily and he looks exhausted.

“Tan.. what the fuck!” You’re on your feet in an instant, taking the bag and tossing it aside, and grabbing at his face to assess him. “Are you okay? Jesus Christ.”

“Yes, love. I’m okay, I’m fine.” He leans into your touch, body looming over you as he relaxes. His free hand snakes around your waist.

“You’re bleeding!” You notice as you lean back to observe him again. There’s blood running down the arm he’s holding, running between his fingers.

“Just got clipped, I’m alright. I promise.” The hand at your waist travels up to cup your face and his thumb rubs over your cheek to assure you. “Didn’t have time to clean myself up, didn’t want to waste a second getting back to you.”

“Fuck okay, I’ll be right back.” You take his hand and lead him to the kitchen and urge him to take a seat at the bar. You nearly run to the bathroom, gathering up a first aid kit and quickly returning to his side.

“You don’t have to do this, really darling,” he says quietly as you wet a cloth with some antiseptic. 

“Shut up, let me take care of you, okay?” You whisper, dabbing his cheek with the cloth. “You said you’d be careful.” The words come out more pleading than you intended, but seeing him hurt again was so frightening.

“This was me being careful. You should see the other fuckin’ guy,” he grunts out as you clean his lip. Normally, he would hate being babied like this, but he knew this was your love language. And honestly, the thought of not coming home to you made him cherish the gesture even more.

“I probably don’t want to,” you laugh.

“No, probably not. He’s dead, I’ll tell ya that.” 

“Good.” You find a sick satisfaction in knowing Tangerine is willing to kill to stay by your side, that he’d kill for you. 

“Not gonna let some bastard take me away from you, sweetheart.” He turns his head and kisses the hand you’re using to apply ointment to his cuts. 

“But you almost did,” you murmur, pulling your hand away. “You almost did and you still keep going back.”

He doesn’t reply, merely fixing you with a look that says I’m sorry, but don’t do this.

You start unbuttoning his shirt so you can clean the wound on his arm but he swats your hands away gently, telling you he can do it himself. 

“I don’t think it's deep enough to need stitches,” you say, gently wrapping a bandage around his arm once you deem the wound clean enough. 

“Told you it wasn’t so bad,” he says without looking up. You reach for him and run a hand through his tousled curls, the other coming up to touch his cheek. He leans into your palm, humming as he closes his eyes.

“Tell me how you did it,” you whisper softly.

He furrows his brow and looks up at you.

“Did what?”

“How you killed him.”

“Do ya really wanna know that, love?” He questions, his blue eyes burning into your own.

You think about the alternative and decide that yes, you do want to know, and nod.

“Nearly turned his face to a pulp with my knuckle dusters. Thought about stompin’ his bloody brains out but I didn’t wanna get it on my shoes.” A smile tugs at his lips as he says the last part. “So, I unloaded the entire fuckin’ gun into his face.”

You trail your hands down from his face, your fingers gliding against his skin, pausing briefly when you reach his neck. Tangerine’s breath hitches, watching you beneath his long lashes. 

“I woulda fuckin’ tore him to pieces if it meant I got to come back to you alive,” he mutters darkly. 

His words stir something within you and your hand slips to his neck, feeling the rippled skin of his scar. It’s the first time you’ve touched it. It sends a shiver through you both and his hand flies up to your face, fingers wrapping around the base of your skull as his palm cradles your jaw. You feel something damp against your cheek and realize he’s gripping you with the same hand he was holding his arm with earlier, the blood still wet and smearing over your skin.

Tangerine jerks his hand back when he notices.

“M’sorry, love,” he apologizes and reaches for the cloth but you stop him. His eyes meet yours and the sight of you causes desire to surge through his veins. You’re staring at him, your pupils blown and eyes brimming with lust. The sight of his own blood smudged across your face sparks a new level of devotion within him. 

His lips find yours in an instant, swallowing you up into a searing kiss that sucks the air straight out of your lungs. You’re crawling into his lap, hands clinging to his bare shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself, and his large hands rest on either side of your waist.

“Christ, you like that?” he breathes as he breaks the kiss. “You’re fuckin’ sick, darling.” 

“You made me this way,” You pant, kissing your way down his jawline. You place an open-mouthed kiss at the base of his jaw before tracing your tongue along his scar. Tangerine is unable to bite back the moan it draws out of him, the sound driving you to nip at the distorted flesh. He liked it.

It rouses something primal inside of you, the feeling of taking back the thing that almost took him from you and using it to bring pleasure to him. Tangerine shudders as you kiss and suck around the scar. For so long you avoided it, couldn’t even bear to look at it - seeing it only as a reminder of sorrow. Now though, you realize it doesn’t signify a painful memory, no, it’s a reminder that he fucking lived. 

His grip on your hips becomes bruising, pulling you down to meet his growing erection. You release his neck from your teeth and pull back, sliding off of his lap and out of his grip. He’s leaning back in the chair, shirtless and chest heaving, you feel like you’ll go mad if you look at him any longer so your gaze travels down to his trousers. You can see his cock straining against the fabric, your hands going straight to his belt. His own hands reach for the hem of your shirt, sliding the fabric up and forcing you to stop toying with his belt to pull your shirt over your head. While you’re ridding yourself of the garment, you hear the clink of his belt hitting the ground and look to see that he’s already removed and tossed it aside. His lips curl into a smirk when he notices that you were already without a bra.

You move back over to him, tucking your hand beneath the elastic of his underwear to free his cock, gliding your hand along the warm, velvety skin. He reaches for your chest, running his hand from your collarbone to the swell of your breast, ghosting over your nipple and leaving a faint trail of crimson down your skin. His eyes flicker from yours to the near-dried blood painting your torso, hunger and arousal brewing up inside of him. 

You give his length a few slow pumps and then drop to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes as you start to press tender kisses along his shaft. 

Tangerine watches you, his lips parted and cheeks flushed pink as he gazes down at you, the final shred of sunlight painting an orange glow around him. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen and all you want to do is worship him.

So, you finally take his cock into your mouth and swirl your tongue around the swollen head. Tangerine grunts, it’s deep and guttural, his hips bucking slightly. You feel him pressing against your throat, fighting back your reflexes at the intrusion. His large hand comes forward to thread his fingers through your hair. 

“You look so pretty like this,” he rasps, “choking on my cock.” You reach one hand up to grasp his thigh, the other wrapping around his length as you release him with a ‘pop’.

You lick a stripe along the underside of his cock, feeling the veins with your tongue and using your hand to stroke him. The sound is wet and obscene and drives him to tighten his grip on your hair. Then, you swallow him up again, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head down to take him deeper. You take a deep breath through your nose, more saliva leaking down your chin with every drag of his dick. He twitches in your mouth and you hum in response, feeling your own arousal pooling in your underwear.

“Fuckin hell I’m gonna cum if you keep doin’ that,” Tangerine breathes out shakily and pulls you off of him. “I’m savin’ that for you sweetheart.”

With his hand still tangled in your hair, he pulls you up to him and captures your lips again with his in a sloppy, hungry kiss. His tongue is pressing into your mouth and you meet it with yours. His mustache tickles as he kisses you, the bristly hairs almost becoming abrasive. His big hands are gripping your face and you feel him nip at your bottom lip, dragging his teeth along the pillowy skin.

The way that he kisses you leaves your head swimming, and your heart fluttering in your chest. It’s divine and delicious.

He pulls away, drinking in the sight of your flushed skin and swollen lips. In a flash, he’s on his feet, using his body to pivot you both around and back you up against the kitchen island.

“You really thought I wouldn’t do everything in my power to come back home to this?” He asks as his hand ghosts over your clothed cunt. You gasp when his palm presses against your clit, feeling the way he pauses there for a moment. Your hips grind forward in search of friction and he pulls his hand away to slide your pants and underwear down your legs. 

You toss the garments aside and haul yourself up on the counter, grabbing at Tangerine’s face to pull him back to your mouth. He slots himself between your legs and you feel him run his fingers between your slick folds, collecting your juices and reaching down to his cock. His head prods against you, sliding up over your clit and causing you to shudder.

“I’d kill a thousand men if it meant I got to come home and bury myself in this perfect cunt,” he grunts as he presses forward, the head of his cock sliding into you. 

You throw your head back as he fills you, leaning back onto your hands as he buries himself to the hilt before slowly pulling back out to the tip. 

“Fuck, Tangerine,” you whine his name as he rolls his hips into you again. His jaw is set tight as he watches himself disappear inside of you, the slick sounds echoing through your kitchen. 

You push yourself up off of your hands and wrap your arms around him, pressing your body into his. Your legs come up to tangle around his backside and his hands are gripping your waist so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises in the morning. You don’t care, all you can think about is him and how fucking good his cock feels rutting into you. 

You turn your attention to his neck, biting the skin of his scar and you hear him growl - hips picking up an even faster pace. His hand reaches between you, coming up to wrap around your throat and he pushes you back, your back meeting the cold marble of the countertop. 

“Never gonna leave you, darling,” he moans, his grip on your throat tightening. Tears prick at your eyes, the lack of air dizzying. “You know that, right? Ain’t no one else gonna make you feel this good.”

“No one, no one,” you sputter out, his grasp loosening. 

You’re crying, salty tears streaming down your cheeks and coating your lips. Fucking sobbing because it feels so good and because you can’t imagine never getting to feel this good again. Never getting to hold him in your arms again, never feeling so full of him or the way his cock presses against your walls as it drags deliciously in and out of you.

He rocks forward, pressing his chest to yours as he folds himself over you. You’re gripping his forearm so hard you fear you may break the skin

“Fucking,” you rasp, “fucking love you, so much. Don’t ever wanna lose you, lose this.”

You feel a low rumble in his chest as he fucks into you fervently. His fingers find your clit, swollen and begging for attention. The pressure in your abdomen is building, your body spasming under his touch. 

“Let me see how good I make you feel,” he croaks. “Lemme watch you cum.”

The sensation of his cock filling you, the veiny length rubbing against your sensitive walls, and his fingers tightly circling your clit send your orgasm rippling through you. Your cunt spasms, squeezing and clenching around his cock. You’re sinking your teeth into his shoulder to stifle your moans, the pain causing his hips to stutter, his cock jerking inside you.

Suddenly he’s hauling you up off of the counter, pulling his cock out of you in order to turn you around. A strong hand on your back shoves you forward, bending you over and pressing your front against the countertop. 

“So good for me,” he growls, licking the shell of your ear as he rocks his hips into you once more. He’s chasing his own orgasm at a merciless rhythm. The new angle has his cock slamming into your g-spot, another climax beginning to creep up on you.

Your second orgasm hits you violently, your legs threatening to collapse as pleasure surges through you in waves. Your cunt clamping down on his cock has his orgasm washing over him as well. He rolls his hips into you one final time, buried to the base of his cock, pressing deep inside of you. You feel the pulse of his cock as spurts of cum coat your walls. His teeth sink into your neck as he rides out his climax, his breath fanning over your skin when he lets go. 

“Tangerine,” you whisper his name as he lays still above you, his weight pressing you to the surface below.

“Mmm?” He stirs, kissing your neck and the marks he left behind. He pulls his softening cock out of you, lifting himself off the island.

“Think I need a shower,” you sigh, still feeling the post-orgasm euphoria. 

“Me and you both, love,” he laughs. “Fuckin’ got my blood smeared all over ya, nasty little thing.”

“Fuck off, you liked it too, you absolute freak.” You shoot him a glare over your shoulder as you push yourself up. He helps you off of the counter, letting you steady yourself before pulling his pants back up and handing you your shirt. 

“Be nice to me, might just have ya again in the shower,” he mumbles lowly in your ear.

“I was supposed to be taking care of you,” you remind him.

“I think fuckin’ me is taking plenty good care of me, darling.” You look up at him, his mustache curling up as he smirks down at you. 

“Ya know, I meant what I said,” Tangerine says suddenly as you’re massaging shampoo into his scalp. 

“What was that?” You pause.

“That I wasn’t ever gonna leave ya,” he tilts his head back, relaxing against your body. You’d managed to convince him to take a bath instead of a shower. You place a kiss to his temple and he releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“I know,” you smile. And you mean it. 

Something shifts in you both. Tangerine’s nightmares grow less frequent with each day, and you find that you’re no longer haunted by the images of him from that day. You worry less when he’s off with Lemon, knowing he’d claw his way out of hell to get back to you if he had to. That he’d spill the blood of a hundred thousand men to get to you. This is your twisted pleasure, knowing the lengths he’d go to in order to remain by your side. 

He knows this, of course. You had wanted all of him, the darkest, sickest parts, and he had given them to you. Raw and tarnished, turning your entire perception of love up on its head. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine smut #tangerine fic #bullet train smut #tangerine imagine #bullet train fic #smut #reader insert #fem reader #reader smut #peachys fics

[simple-persica]

first impression: oh hot damn she can draw women. i love her art so much it's amazing

currently impression: PERSI!!! OMG PERSI BELOVED MUTUAL PERSICA MY BELOVED WHOSE ART IS AMAZING AAAAAAAAAAAAA i crave that level of anatomical skill 😭😭😭

HRJHDAHJA NOVE MY BELOVED!!!

#peachy post #(insert Keanu Reeves meme) #AAAAAAAA

[sbc-moved]

📽️

Looks at you with my evil eyes

Ask game here

On tape 📽️: Draw yourself in a recreated screen cap from the source your f/o is from (Bonus points if you stay within the art style if the source has one!)

I think the prompt meant t redraw the whole thing but. I’m not doing allat. Anyway This looks. Not great. I’m sure if I put more effort into it it would be more comparable to the actual game but like. I’m tired.

#Genshin impact #raiden ei #selfship #self shipping #self ship ask game #self insert #f/o community #♡.game night #♡.ink #☆.peachy tag

[dragengyrr]

I think I now know what’s bothering me with people shipping Alastor. It’s not about shipping Alastor. It’s how stupid the excuses that some of them use are.

I would love all the people who want to ship Alastor to do us aces a favour and just say, "it’s my fantasy, I like him this way, it’s my version of him" – and we’re peachy. You do? Cool, good for you, have my blessing, some of them are really cute and funny, or just aesthetically pleasing.

But if you want to ship Al and you use the

"bUt aCeS caN stiLL dAte…"

argument – hold up, bröther. That’s a mine field you’re entering. Because if you intend on using that, you shouldn’t ship him exactly the same way as allo + allo would date. Being aro/ace HAS impact on dating, and if you want to keep him aro/ace, well, it’s not as easy as just pretending that love has eradicated his orientation.

To make it easier to understand: imagine that you have a character of mixed origin, and each parent comes from a vastly different culture. The character has been taught both. Let’s say, for example, British and Chinese.

Now, you, as a fan, in this case, don’t know much about Chinese culture and upbringing, but you want to make a fic with the character. It would be half bad if you just inserted the most stereotypical Chinese cultural traits into your art/story, but this goes even better: you just shift to the fifth gear and go –

"bUt tHey hAve BriTish CitiZenshiP…"

– as a way to justify COMPLETELY ignoring their Asian heritage and just portraying them as "a Brit", just because it’s more familiar and convenient to you. As if somehow even being bilingual for starters has absolutely zero impact on one’s identity…

This is how stupid you look to aro/ace people when you use that morbid argument and then just "forget" to include anything aro/ace related. You’re allo but want to keep Alastor ace and still ship him? Do some research then. Otherwise you’re as good as spreading misinformation about aro/aces in relationships.

Or just go full-fan mode and change him as you please, no mortal possesses a power strong enough to stop you… Just stop spreading bullshit about aces.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #radio demon #ace #aro #aroace #aroace alastor #ace alastor #alastor hazbin #asexual #aromantic #alastor ships #shipping alastor #hazbin ships #I swear I’m getting brain aneurysm every time I see that argument

[kaylas-world-0]

Bullfrog x h!reader

Summery; Bullfrog is injured and we need to take care of him~

A/N: I had to rewrite half of this as it didn't f##king saved AHHHH

Warnings: HURT, HURT, HURT FROG, lots of blood, injury, wound, throwing up, angst.

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.7k

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

Don't Leave

While you had one hand in your pocket and searched for your keys in a rush, you leaned forward slightly, supporting Bullfrog by his leg to prevent him from falling off your back with your other hand. Even though Bullfrog's arms were wrapped around your neck, something told you that he didn't have the strength to hold himself back on his own. You felt him wince in pain against your back as you struggled to find your keys to unlock your door. Damn hands, I order you to stop shaking immediately! We have an emergency here! We have to help Bullfrog! There was a panicked war inside your head.

You scowled and finally pulled your keys out of your pocket. Trying to see right through your shaking hand and forcing yourself to find the right key for your door. "Come on, come on." You almost dropped the keys in your panic. You quickly grabbed the right key and inserted it into the keyhole, pushing the door open with your side.

Your grip tightened on the injured assassin and you dashed in, not even bothering to close the door, you quickly rushed into the living room and gently laid him down on the couch. He hissed in pain at the sudden change of position.

You gently caressed his cheek with your shaking hand, “How are you holding up?” You asked hesitantly, trying not to look too hard at the blood on his side that covered most of his clothing. He held your hand on his cheek.

He was sweating and his breathing was hasty and rigid. His expression was sour until you questioned him. He quickly changed his expression to something softer and opened his eyes to look at you. He forced a smile and gave a shaky thumbs up, lying through his teeth... or maybe he was just sassing. You couldn't understand anymore due to your panic. He sucked a breath and choked out a weak answer, "Bien. Just peachy."

You cringe at his answer. "R-Right. S-Stupid question. Sorry." You stammered, "Try to relax. I... uh... I definitely shouldn't call help or an ambulance so-- I'LL TRY TO STOP THE BLEEDING! You just lie there and don't move too much." He didn't look like he was in any mood to get up or move anyway. He seemed like he wanted to say something about what you said but you didn't let him, "Please don't waste your breath." He looked offended but without wasting any more time, you left the room and entered the bathroom.

There must be a first aid kit around here! You started searching by opening almost every cabinet, but you couldn't find it. Instead of searching further, you thought quickly. You had no time to waste. You start looking for something useful that suits your situation. You need to apply pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding, right? You grabbed as many towels as you could and quickly went back inside.

You knelt down next to the couch and paused for a moment. Wait, I need to press the wound, but do I need to take off his clothes first or is that okay? God, what if it gets infected? Or what if he already caught it? What do I do then? No, no. Don't think like that. Don't think the worse. I'll have to clean the wound anyway, so I guess I should take off his clothes. God, he's not going to like this at all. Maybe he even needs stitches!! AHH, I HOPE HE DON'T NEED SOMETHING LIKE THAT. YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO STITCH SKIN! Okay, okay, calm down. You quickly pushed your thoughts aside and decided to keep pressing on the wound for now. At least you were going to keep doing this until the bleeding stopped. What if the bleeding doesn't stop? You brushed aside your concerns and quickly pressed the wound with one of the towels you brought. Pressure the wound as best as you can. Bullfrog groaned in pain and you quickly offered an apology, pleadingly. You saw him wince slightly from the pain, his chest rising up and down rapidly. He was out of breath. How much blood did he lose? Would he live? You tried to brush off your worries once again. He will be fine. Just focus on stopping the damn bleeding! You reassured yourself. You were scared. You felt like you were going to puke. You need to be there for him in his weak moments. While he trusted you to help him, you were afraid of letting him down and losing him. He believed in you and you are slowly letting him down to the point of letting him die in your arms because you are a useless being and incapable of anything— He would bleed to death in your arms. You guessed this wasn't an honorable death for him at all. God, what am I thinking?

"Mon amour... I'll be fine, worry not." You felt his hand on your shoulder, gently nudging you and making you snap out of your panicked fears. You blinked your teary eyes to look at him, he smiled at you warmly, it wasn't fading or forced like before, his honey colored eyes gently reassuring your trembling body.

You nodded slowly, not having the strength to respond without your voice breaking like glass or you would have started to sob loudly. You can't let that happen right now. You continued, not letting your thoughts get the best of you. He would be fine. He said so himself. He will be fine. And you won't let him go.

After using a few towels and turning them as red as his clothes, you paused with a realization, your eyes widening. It doesn't stop bleeding. It's been ten minutes. "I need stitches..." Bullfrog didn't even answer that. It seemed like he was having trouble keeping his eyes open, like he couldn't focus on you. He looked so weak, which made you panic even more. You never saw him like this before.

You quickly stood up and entered the bathroom. Now you definitely had to find that kit. You were hoping there might be something inside that could help you. You searched everywhere and finally found it on the cabinet. You grabbed it and quickly rushed back inside. You opened it and took a look inside, rummaging through it pushing away things that were of no use to you, "No, no, there's nothing, damn it!" There was nothing that could help you with stitches. What were you going to do now? You definitely couldn't use a regular thread and needle, right?

You gripped your face, aghhh!!! It seemed like you had no other choice. You were just at the point where you are about to broke down and run to your room and get the needle, but you jumped in dread when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You were unfocused and breathing rapidly, you turned your head to look at who was behind you as you tugged at your clothes. It's a woman looked like she is in her thirties. She is one of your neighbors, she lives in the flat next door to you. How she got in wasn't even a concern to you anymore. Your tears were flowing down your cheeks like a waterfall as she looked at you with sympathy. You had nothing left to do. You didn't know what to do. You choked out, sniffing, "P-Please help." You sobbed. You needed help. He needed help.

She gently smiled at you and nodded. She didn't need an explanation, she uttered calmly, “Of course. I will do my best." She helped you up and told you what she needed, and you nodded quickly. While you spent the longest hours of your life helping her, everything seemed so blurry. As if the whole day wasn't a rushed fog of pain. You found yourself staring at your reflection for a while. Your face was as white as chalk. You were still slightly shaking and covered in blood. His blood. By the time you two were done, you couldn't even sit down to rest and rushed here to vomit, the adrenaline giving way to exhaustion. You were feeling a little dizzy. But knowing that he is okay now gave you some comfort. You sighed and walked out of the bathroom, shivering. After letting it all out, you were starting to feel at least a little bit like yourself.

You replayed in your head how sorry you were. You betrayed his trust by involving someone else. While he was waiting for you, you asked someone else for help. You let out a shaky breath as you walked back to the living room. You noticed it was empty and there was no sign of him bleeding out minutes ago. You blinked. Oh, right. He was resting in your room. And while you were busy in the bathroom, she cleaned around even though she had nothing to do with any of this. And yes, you felt guilty about that too. You should been the one to clean up your mess in your house. Nevertheless, you were grateful for her help.

“Oh, good you are back.” She looked like she was about to ask how you were but stopped herself. You glance at her tiredly and carelessly sat down on the couch.

“I was going to let you know that I finished cleaning. I hope you're okay with that." When you continued to stare blankly, she cleared her throat, "I figured you wouldn't have the energy to do that... And blood is hard to clean, trust me. I didn't mind so don't worry. I'm used to cleaning up, especially blood stains as a nurse. And you didn't look like you were in the mood to clean right now either, so I didn't want you to bother. And if cleaning up later they'd be dried out and that wouldn't be nice." She chuckled to herself, "Heh, I actually came here to ask you if you had milk, but I'm glad I did. By the way, I still need milk so... You don't mind if I get some milk, right?"

You blinked slowly. Oh my god, I guess you couldn't be luckier. Your next door neighbor was a nurse. Of course, you shouldn't be surprised after everything she's accomplished. You were so thankful to anyone up there listening to you right now. You didn't know what you would have done if she hadn't come. You may have used all the luck of your life right here and now.

“Uh…” she had mentioned so many things, your tired mind couldn't acknowledge all of it at the same time. If she's this normal about it, she probably does this a lot. But this was not normal for you at all and you were obviously scared out of your skin and it would probably follow you for the rest of your life. You've never encountered this much blood before. You were still having trouble getting your thoughts in order. “Y-yeah… of course. Ahh… Take whatever you want…”

She smiled at you, "Alright, if you need anything else. You know where to find me—"

"Thank you."

She stopped and glanced at you. She looked surprised. You sniffed and rubbed your face. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come."

"Hey, don't mention it. It's my job. But I'm getting that milk."

You breath out a tired laugh, "Yes, of course, please take it. Count it as a token of gratitude."

She nodded as a thanks and entered the kitchen. She looked surprised when she came back to see you still sitting and staring at the ground as if someone had died. She thought maybe you could at least go and see how he was doing now, but it seemed like there was something else holding you back. Maybe you were afraid that you wouldn't be able to look at his face the same way again after what you saw. She understand what you feel.

She hummed and glanced back the room where he is resting. Of course, she had no idea what you two were going through, and she should keep her nose out of things like that. After all, he was the one who was supposed to comfort you and talk to you about this. “Ah…thank you for the milk.” But maybe a little assurance wouldn't hurt. You looked pale. You looked a lot worse when she was doing stitching inside, but at least you looked better now compared to that moment. She thanked you once again, showing the milk carton in her hand. You nodded slowly at this.

Before she turned to the door to leave the house, she pointed to your clothes, “A piece of advice from me to you. Take a hot shower and throw your clothes in the trash. There is nothing left of them that will benefit you. Also… don't worry. Your friend's condition is excellent. He just needs some good rest. He will live. His wound is not very deep." She may have told a little lie to make you feel a bit better. Fortunately, none of his vital organs were damaged. She didn't question how he got such a deep wound.

You looked away from the ground and turned your gaze at her and heaved a sigh. You mustered a little smile and nodded slightly, “Thank you.”

She paused before walking out the door, you just noticed the garbage bag in her hand. You felt dizzy when you noticed the blood stains visible translucently inside. “Oh, by the way, I almost forgot. I'll come back tomorrow to check on his stitching. See you by then!” She closed the door behind her with a soft wave and a happy hum.

Your eyes stayed on the door for a while, after a few deep breaths, you looked at your clothes and grimaced. There was no point in sitting there all night. You sighed. Yes… a bath is a nice idea.

You stood up and glanced towards the door of your room. Your clothes were there. But for now, you were too tired to bother going inside to get new ones. You didn't want to go into your room. You don't feel ready to see him yet. You could decide later what to do after your bath.

You went into the bathroom, took off your clothes and threw them in a trash can. You had to admit that her conversation helped you come to your senses a bit more. You took a deep breath and stepped into the bath. You turned on the hot water and waited for it to reach the perfect temperature. You sighed and got under the hot water. You took a deep breath as your body contacted the hot water. This felt good. It helped a lot in relaxing your muscles and you finally breathed a sigh of relief.

You didn't know how long you stayed under it, but after you came back to your senses, you quickly washed off all the blood from your body and hair and left the bath. You reached for your robe, pulled it on, and tied the belt around your waist. You sigh, pulling your hood over your head and looking at your exhausted reflection in the foggy mirror one last time. You made sure there was no blood in sight before exiting the bathroom, you didn't want to be reminded of all this in the future.

You entered the kitchen and took out a glass of water to feed your thirsty body. Then, to fill your hungry stomach, you took out some frozen pizza from the freezer and threw it in the microwave to warm it up. While you waited for it to cook, you sat on one of the nearby chairs and watched the soft light coming from it as it did its thing. The sky was already dark and the only light illuminating the room was the light from the microwave since no lights were turned on in your home at the moment. As you thought about what happened today, you listened to the soft hum coming from it. All you knew was that you didn't know anything. You found Bullfrog covered in blood on the stairs of your building. And he didn't tell you anything either.

You dropped your bag in fear. When Bullfrog heard your gasp, he turned his head towards you, he could hardly stand on his shaking feet, he was trying to walk with support from the wall. When he noticed you, he shakily extended his hand towards you. You knew he was trying to come to you. His clothes were covered in blood, that's what made you even more panicked. He looked like he was gonna fall apart at that second. You quickly ran to him. He stumbled towards you, he grunted as he nearly falled, you immediately supported him by wrapping your arms around his body. He held on tightly to your clothes. He was breathing heavily. He didn't say anything, and he didn't need to. He leaned his head against you. The look he gave you told you everything, he needed you.

You frowned, your thoughts interrupted by the sound of the alarm signaling that the microwave had finished its job. You sighed and picked up your food. You sat at the table in silence as you slowly ate your food. You felt empty and a pain appeared in your chest. It had been so long since you had eaten alone. You were normally used to being alone but... that's until Bullfrog came into your life and made every minute of it exciting and fun.

After finishing your meal, you sighed and leaned back in your chair, shivering slightly from the cold. You needed your clothes or you were going to get sick. You let out a sigh and mustered up the courage to stand up and go back to your room.

You froze in front of the closed door. You swallowed and took a deep breath. Come on, he's not dead, calm down. He just sleeps inside. You reached for the doorknob and turned it. You walked in quietly and closed the door behind you. Your eyes avoided looking at your bed and you walked towards your wardrobe. You could see him out of the corner of your eye on your bed, just laying there. Luckily, you weren't facing him so you couldn't see much. Also, the room was too dark to make out much. The curtains were closed, making this room darker than the others. Also, even though he was wrapped in a blanket, he didn't have much clothes on and you didn't think he would want you to see him like that.

Technically, you are both half naked in this room. God, why would you even think of it like that? Did you always have to make it harder than it already is? Why do you have such a mind? You've made this way too weird. You groaned, cringing at yourself and rubbed your face.

"Are you going to act like this all night?" You flinched and quickly brought out from your thoughts, your face flushing a bit more redder than it was previously. Had he been awake this whole time? His accent and husky voice made it a little difficult to understand him, but you knew what he meant. You pressed your lips together as you opened your wardrobe and grabbed the pieces you needed.

"I'm not avoiding you."

"I didn't say that."

"I need to change my clothes..." you mumbled and left the room. He didn't say anything to your excuse. This made your heart feel even heavier.

You quickly put on the clothes you bought and went back to the bathroom to get a towel for your hair. Oh, right. You've used them all on him… You should remember to buy some when you go shopping. You sighed and reached for your hair dryer. After spending too much time in the bathroom by simply drying and combing your hair, you left the room and just stood outside of the hall. This is the moment you were running away from. You sighed. It was mostly because you didn't know what to say…

You closed the door behind you as you entered the dark room once more. You walked carefully and sat on your bed. “I'm sorry for avoiding you… I didn't mean it, I just… I'm sorry…” You sighed in defeat, unable to find the right words to express yourself.

He whispered gently, "Peux-tu t'allonger à côté de moi?" You paused at his sudden request. Your eyes widened slightly and turned to him, even though you couldn't see his face very clearly, you knew he was looking at you with those gentle honey colored eyes. I guess the fact that he could see better than you in the dark gave you a disadvantage also.

You stammered, "Uh... I-I'm sorry, what?" Thanks to him, you knew a little French, but you couldn't believe that you could understand what he was saying. And at the last moment you regretted what came out of your mouth. You didn't want to force him to repeat himself, he needed to rest and not waste his breath—

"Will you lie down with me?" You stared at him, you still didn't think you could believe what you heard was right, your face flushed red, you didn't expect him to tell you this out right.

"Oh... uh... s-sure?" You weren't sure. But for some reason you couldn't refuse, maybe it was because you felt like you owed it to him or maybe you just needed it. You crawled next to him and laid down, pressing your face into the pillow next to his. You felt so awkward doing this.

You laid there for a while staring into the ceiling, your body a bit stiff until you heard him mutter once again, "What do french fries do when they meet?"

You blinked consufe, "H-huh..?"

"They ketchup."

You glance at him as he snickered softly at his words, somewhat proudly. You were actually puzzled by this. Then the joke hit you like a truck.

"Oh my god." You groaned and rubbed your face. A smile appearing on your lips as you try so hard to stop yourself from laughing. "That was terrible."

"But I saw a smile."

You chuckled at that and hummed, "I laugh so you don't feel bad."

"Then I have to make more bad jokes."

"Please don't."

"What do French ducks say? Quoi quoi."

You groaned with that. But it felt... nice. You just give in to his jokes. Your body relaxed, you felt in peace once again. You were actually really tired. You didn't even remember what you were doing before he showed up. "How about you tell your jokes tomorrow? Maybe I'll laugh then. How is that sound?"

"Like a deal."

You smiled at that as your eyes become too heavhy for you to force them open. You silently yawned and wiped away a tear. " 'Night." You muttered, turning to your side and in a more comfortable position. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the blanket being pulled over you and his arms wrapping around your body.

"Bonne nuit mon amour. Je t'aime. Merci pour tout."

#bullfrog x reader #bullfrog #x reader #reader #captain lazerhawk spoilers #captain lazerhawk #allenwrites

[scarlettriot]

Between the Pages

Pairing: Todoroki X Kailali (( @kailali ))

A/N: This piece was mostly written by @silverhairsimp as a reward for Kai's generous donation for helping @weebaboobs and her adorable dog, Peach. Thank you so much again and we really hope you enjoy your date ❤️

Warnings: None, just fluffy.

Word Count: 730 ((I went a little over, go figure))

Shoto had never been the best with his words or expressing his emotions, you knew that even before the two of you got together. He had done a lot to try and make you as happy as he possibly could. Finding different ways to love you and show you just how much you mean to him. He continues to do his absolute best to support you and everything you do, still to this day. He had a habit of picking up your hobbies as a way to bond even more with you, his favorite of which quickly became outings to the local bookstore. 

He found comfort in the trips you took to the little shop. They were quiet and lowkey, just like him. It was one of your favorite places and, because of this, he greatly enjoyed accompanying you anytime you needed to go. He loved that even most simple trips could be made into so much more. 

Shoto would walk alongside you as you scan the shelves for new reads. Watching intently as your fingertips would drag along the spines of the books you walked past. He thought it cute the way you would stop abruptly when something good caught your eye. He’d stand right next to you with his hand on the small of your back as you read the back cover of the book, determining if it really was worth your time. 

The man was notorious for skipping straight to the last page and reading the ending, effectively spoiling the story for himself. He’d then give you his own opinion on whether or not he thought you’d like it. But, he’d never spoil the story for you though, leaving the details vague and his opinions short because he always loved watching you figure it out for yourself. 

Every single time you mentioned you needed to go to the bookstore, he was quick to put on his shoes and grab a jacket, not wanting to miss out on the quality time with you. And every time you grabbed a new book to take home, he’d think about the time that meant the two of you would be spending together at home. 

When you selected a book he already knew the ending to, he’d watch you very closely. Smiling at every expression that graced your face when something unexpected happened. The way you would cheer, “Babe! You’ll never guess what happened!” He’d grin as he got up to mosey on over with hands in his pockets to wherever you were sitting. He would find a spot behind you in bed, or next to you on the sofa while you recalled the scene that just happened. And then he’d pull you right into his lap, brushing your dark hair back so he could hook his chin over your shoulder and watch as you dove back into the tale. 

There were also times, like today, when you were so caught up in a new read that he’d find himself wandering a few aisles over. His eyes would scan cover the colorful spines, reading titles and glancing at authors' names, looking for something new he thought you might enjoy. He knew what to look for by now, your favorite genres and tropes, so, when his two-toned eyes landed on a hardback with a navy jacket, its interesting title printed in shiny silver, he pulled it from its resting place. 

After skimming over the summary on the front flap, he decided it could be worthy of your time, and it was tucked under his arm along with the two books he’d scooped up for himself. 

He found you, standing in almost the same spot he’d left you in, wrapped an arm about your waist, and kissed your temple, his silent away of asking for your attention. When you turned to him with your soft smile, he pulled the book from behind his back, “What about this one, Kai?” 

His eyes watched you closely when you took the book out of his hand and flipped to that inner flap just as he’d done minutes ago. When the corner of your lips quirked up with a grin, that smile that was his favorite thing in the whole world, he knew he’d done a good job. 

It wasn’t long before he’d started being the one asking to go to the bookstore because you get to do something you love and he gets to watch something he loves in return.

A/N: Again, thank you, Kai, so much for your donation for Peach. We cannot thank you enough 🥰

Friendly reminder that we will be accepting donations for Peach and Ame until June 30th in case anyone else would like a character match up or a date with their fav, you can find more information here. Thank you!

#mha fan fic #mha self insert #shoto x self insert #shoto todoroki #shoto fluff #todoroki fluff #let’s help peachy!