#: DW THEY WILL BE OK I'M SURE

[mwagneto]

15 revealing that apparently the bigeneration was hugely traumatic and not something he could survive again is already insane but especially considering that when he was with 14 neither of them acted like it was anything other than amazing which makes me think 15 was the only one who felt that it was something incredibly damaging but he didn't wanna tell 14 coz he wanted at least one of them to be happy which is sooo.. ough....

[polaritydisturbed]

Ok no, I have to get it out of my system, Conrad is bad at podcasting. And just recording anything in general.

The sound padding is doing absolutely nothing. Sure, they’ve got it slapped on the walls, but it’s off to the side. Not behind them. Not in front of them. Just... chilling. Which is useless. You want that padding facing the source of the sound so it can catch the waves before they start bouncing all over the place.

Since both Ruby and Conrad are facing forward with the padding off to the side, her voice is bouncing off the wall behind him and hitting his mic again a split second later. That would be making the audio sound muddy and hollow. Having the foam off to the side like that is like putting a bandage next to your cut and wondering why you’re still bleeding.

Right now, the foam is just there for vibes. Bad vibes.

And who told this man to record in a glass box? Glass is terrible for audio. Everything bounces. Nothing gets absorbed. It turns your voice into a pinball machine. You could have a thousand-dollar mic and it would still sound like you’re talking inside a fishbowl. Plus, that room looks like it’s in the middle of an office space? Why, Conrad, you amoeba-brained sycophant, would you record anything there ever?? The background noise alone would be hell on Earth to try to edit out.

Pop filter and foam windscreen (mic cover)??? Both are designed to reduce plosive sounds—like "p" and "b"—by dispersing the air before it hits the microphone diaphragm. While it’s not wrong to use both, it’s redundant unless you're outdoors or in a particularly plosive-heavy environment. Stacking them can even dull the audio a bit.

Your mic doesn’t need two hats. Calm down.

Not an audio note but a soft box light in the shot?? No. Just no. They should be behind the camera, pointing at you. Or at least off to the side, not pointing directly down the middle. And what really gets me? There are windows. Real, working windows with actual sunlight. And what did Conrad do? He covered them with that useless sound padding. So now it’s badly lit and echoey.

He blocked out free, natural light to keep in the bad sound.

"But what if the sun’s there right when he’s trying to record?" some might say. That’s why curtains exist. And the soft box would still be in a bad spot.

Also, his camera audio is peaking like crazy. Even if he's not using the camera mic for the final cut, it’s still useless to record it like this. You know that Xbox early Halo/COD mic sound? That’s what this would sound like.

This happens when the input gain is too high, causing the audio to clip. Basically, the mic can’t handle it and the sound gets distorted. Ideally, you want your audio levels to peak in the yellow zone, around -12 dB to -6 dB. Not constantly slamming into the red at 0 dB. That’s reserved for 13-year-old prepubescents cursing you out for ruining their kill streak. And that’s it.

On top of that, both the left and right channels on the camera audio look identical, meaning the audio’s been merged into a single mono track. Which isn’t wrong for speech, but it kills any sense of space or direction. For dynamic audio, especially in a two-person setup, you don’t want everything crammed into one lane. (OR they’re both just peaking at the same time continuously, even when they’re not talking, which means it’s picking up background noise at a level so loud it’s pushing the mic into clipping.)

And to make things worse, the little "LIVE" tag in the bottom corner implies this is a livestream. But there doesn’t seem to be any livestream software open on his laptop, so I’m assuming there’s either a second offscreen computer handling the stream, or it’s hooked up to broadcast natively.

Either way, unless those mics are also connected to the camera or that other computer, that peaky, crunchy camera audio is what people are actually hearing.

Finally... it really helps if you hit the record button. He’s just playing back audio. I think that’s more of a “show” thing, but still.

(look I got a fancy degree in this stuff and I have to use it somehow)

[expelliarmus]

[robo-dino-puppies]

(quickfire questions with david tennant and catherine tate)

[prettyflyshyguy]

Hi everyone it's fucking monday

Over the weekend I: helped out with a 12 hour mini painting challenge, onboarded three players to Horus Heresy (the cooler Warhammer 40K trust me) in a lovely 6 player group game which I made up some narrative for impromptu off the cuff (I was told I did a good job!), and then slipped on the tiny three step stairs leading into Coles and fell on my ass, twisting both ankles and catching my fall with my right (DOMINANT) hand and wrist.

Edit: woops I was supposed to type in here what I'm gonna try and do today/tomorow: I gotta do a mail run (i have so many orders and not enough letters!! Huge shoutout to the people who bought stickers)

There's things I need/want to draw for Virtual Ground cause naturally I immediately was unhappy with the thing I drew the other day and I want to further refine the art approach.

I'm looking at compiling some zines I've had in the working for a while now - mix of fandom, serious and just for fun, probs gonna throw them up for digital download on ko-fi for a couple bucks - I'd like to do it sooner rather than later but I keep making more art that I can put in them so when does it end!!

Aaaaaand since October is right around the corner; I've gotta finalise the patreon rewards for this month wahoo!! Pages need roughing up, coffee stains and hand written notes for that extra authentic feel!

[corallapis]

things i am thinking about... the way turlough talks to ileana both out of Jealousy and, i fear, bc he actually believes that the doctor might leave someone (him) behind if they make the wrong choice. how long have they been travelling together in planet of fire when he sabotages the tardis to stop the trion ship signaling & then blatantly lies to the doctor’s face about it? because he still can’t say anything abt his past? boy he FORGAVE you for the black guardian thing. he keeps choosing you even though he knows you’re a coward & a liar & a sneak. what are you still so ashamed of?? why are you running??? AND THEN! when he is forced to tell the doctor a very limited (& possibly sanitized?) summary of his past, he leaves even though he doesn’t want to go. do you think he’s preempting the doctor???? leaving so the doctor won’t tell him to? god. i know i’m way extrapolating here but it would explain why it literally looks like he’s walking off to the gallows even though he says the words ‘my exile has been rescinded’

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

i hope yer happy with yourself YURI CAUSE CROSS HERE MUSTVE HAD HER SPEAR AND STABBED MY HEART AND THEN PULLED IT OUT TO KEEP IN HER TROPHY ROOM OF HEARTS SHE HAD STOLEN /LHJ

overall, tiddies rating 10/10

DAMN ten outta ten??? she wouldn't know what to do with all this flattery dude cmoon HHGFSHGF fr fr waaa thank youuuu >:'D <333333

[autumn-applepie]

This was probably the worst trip back to my parents house ever but like, I just thought of something. When me and my dad fought, the computer was on and we were fighting in front on the computer...

I'm going to be very stupid (mainly because I'm desperately trying to keep my sanity intact), but it just makes me somewhat giggle that Kinito would've definitely killed my deadbeat dad after witnessing that scene, would've been awesome

[faeryton]

getting on t would prob be such a pain and take forever and i have no idea if i even would want the results but also. i'd have first-hand experience for my projection fanfiction.

[neonvvaves]

[ ✉ : 𝙨𝙚𝙤𝙠𝙢𝙞𝙣 ]

from kaye / @amoreemioo ────── ─ pre-reveal .

[ ✉ unsent : ] ─   would  you  be  open  to  sharing  a  mailing  address?  if  not,  that's  totally  ok!!! 🙂🙂 i  was  just  thinking  of  sending  you  care  packages  or  even  like  handwritten  letters  or  something  like  that [ ✉ unsent : ] ─   i'm  rly  glad  i  fucked  up  w/  trying  to  unalive  myself.  so  that  i  could  meet  you. [ ✉ unsent : ] ─   SAMMMMMM! 💗💞💖!💕💗!!!💗!!!! i  miss  youlots  and  lot  s  ! 😭😭💕  ii  usually  dont  g  et  drunk  but  i  yad  a  loTTTT  of  whisjey  WOW!  !!  hehe  kept  telliing  my  team  about  howe  i  have  lik  the  bestest  🥰🥰 cutest  funniest  s  exiest 😉💞🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 bf  everr  !!!b!!!nn  ! 💞💕🥰💖💗❣️💕🥰🥰 [ ✉ unsent : ] ─   i  know  that  we're  only  a  yr  into  our  r/s,  we're  young,  etc  etc.  but  i'll  be  real─  i  never  cared  about  getting  married.  or  even  dating.  or  love.  but  that  was  before  i  met  you.  the  future  used  to  scare  me,  but  now,  i'm  excited  for  it.  thinking  about  /our/  future  together.  like  maybe  we  can  go  to  korea  someday?  still  never  been  in  my  life.  if  i  go,  i  want  it  to  be  with  you. i love you, sam 💗💗

────── ─ post-reveal .

[ ✉ unsent : ] ─   if  we  weren't  working  on  this  shoot  together,  would  you  have  told  me  the  truth?  or  is  it  only  bc  we  met  inperson? [ ✉ unsent : ] ─   it's  my  sh scars,  right?  like.  that's  ok.  i  get  it.  trust  me,  i  don't  like  looking  at  myself  either. [ ✉ unsent : ] ─   i'm  not  mad  at  you.  or  disappointed,  resentful,  anything  like  that.  after  thinking  about  it  for  a  while,  i  understand  why  you  did  what  you  did.  i  just..........  idk.  is  something  wrong  w/  me?  am  i  wrong?  shouldn't  i  be  fucking  ecstatic  that  we  see  each  other  almost  everyday  now?  i've  thought  so  long  about  all  the  dates  i'd  wanna  take  you  on,  esp  since  we're  here  in  LA  together.  maybe  i'm  scared  that  you'll  look  back  on  our  relationship,  and  feel  like  you  wasted  your  time  w/  me.  maybe  i'm  even  /more/  scared  of  how  you  /won't/  tell  me  that.  are  you  happy  with  me  now?  are  there  other  secrets  too? [ ✉ unsent : ] ─   paniic  attack  s  too  man y  wouldn't  stop.  finall  y  gave  in  and  drank  a  lllllotlMAO  somy  hear  t  woulldnt  beat  out  of  my  chst  lol  mmaybe  i  shiuld  get  some  xan  ny  f  rom  nmy  friwnd . sou nds good rihgt? u get kittyfiish pics fr oM urbestf riend and i get drrug ss s sSs s 4rm mine 🌟🌟😎 [ ✉ unsent : ] ─   is  it  bc  of  the  sex  that  you  kept  me  around? [ ✉ unsent : ] ─   i'm  scared.  you.......  you're  everything  to  me.  idk  if  i'll  ever  be  able  to  fully  express  how  much  you  matter  to  me,  how  i'm  so  fucking  in  love  with  you.  but  did  i  ever  really  even  have  you?  i  guess  not.  what  reason  would  there  be  for  you  to  stay.  you'll  find  someone  better.  hotter.  probably  famous.  or  at  least  someone  who  enjoys  the  spotlight,  wants  to  be  seen  by  the  world.  and.....  that's  okay.  you  deserve  to  be  happy,  loved.  even  if  it's  not  me  who  gets  to  be  with  you.  i'm  sorry.  i  love  you.  i  always  will.

[adorekento]

"TELL ME WHAT TO DO."

summary: life has never been better since marrying Nanami Kento—every second feels like something you wouldn’t trade for your favorite food. But who would've thought that even after 3 years of marriage, you both still haven’t had sex?

warnings (18+): MDNI. husband!nanami x wife!reader, angst to smut, explicit sexual content, P in V, unprotected sex (wrap it up), reader is DESPERATE, insecure, demanding, no usage of 'y/n', dominance, masturbation, he pulled out but she wanted creampie!!!!, fingering, handjob, breeding kink, pregnancy thoughts, “daddy” used in reader’s inner thoughts, begging, choking (light), edging (light), they're both a freak for eo, cursing, praise kink, thoughts of kids, soft dom!nanami, he talks u through it gng 💋, reader is very whiny, pet names, mature themes, intimate sex if u blink, vulnerability, strong language, etc. (lmk!!)

author's notes: bro rhis took me like 2 weeks cuz of depression 🥀. I'm barely surviving!!!!!! I DIDN’T edit this so if there r typos or shit... js pretend u didn’t see them ok 💔 love yall twin!!!s!!. Also dw I see those requests piling up in my inbox—keep ‘em coming . I genuinely LOVE reading ur ideas, even if my brain is slow at the moment. OK ENJOY READING

word count: 5.2k (not proofread)

Your thighs clenched. Again.

It has been clenching for so many hours that they’ve gone numb. You shift under the soft blanket, the air thick with the scent of your husband’s cologne lingering from earlier, and it makes your stomach twist with frustration.

You’re soaking. Again.

It’s pathetic, really. How easily your body responds now—how even the ghost of his touch, the memory of his voice rumbling low in your ear as he tells you how proud he is of you, makes your cunt throb.

crazy, right?

Your husband. Your fucking husband. The man you've been married to for years. Who’s seen you at your worst, held your hair back while you threw up from period cramps, memorized the way you like your coffee, babied you, kissed your stretch marks, and still acts like you’re the only woman to ever walk this earth.

And still, after all that—he hasn’t fucked you.

Not once.

Not on your honeymoon.

Not on your anniversaries.

Not during those quiet, late nights when you're curled up in his lap, drunk on wine and love, whispering every filthy thing you want him to do to you.

Nothing.

Never.

You’ve made out, sure. He’s fingered you maybe once or twice a month, always with the kind of slow care that made you want to scream.

You’ve given him a few handjobs, watched him cum in your grasp while he grunted your name and bit his lip so hard it bled. But that’s where it always ends.

That’s where it always stops.

Because Nanami Kento, your perfect, maddeningly composed husband, is gentle. Too fucking gentle.

So gentle it’s driving you absolutely insane.

He says he wants to wait.

Says love is about time.

That he wants everything to feel right—not rushed, not pressured, not like he’s using your body just because you’re married. He says you’re not a thing to be taken. That he wants to love you, not consume you.

It would’ve been romantic. hell. it IS romantic. At first. That patience. That unwavering control. You thought, ��Wow, this man is made for me.’

But now?

It's been years, and you’re left curled up on the couch at 03:54… flushed and needy, wrapped in one of his shirts with your thighs pressed tight and your fingers covered in your own slick.

And no matter what you watch, no matter what you read, no matter how deep you fuck yourself with your own fingers—nothing feels like him.

Because you don’t want your fingers.

You want his tongue.

You want his cock.

You want his hands pinning you down, his teeth grazing your throat, his voice low and wrecked in your ear while he finally lets himself have you the way you’ve both been dying for.

You’ve tried to seduce him. Girl, have you tried. You’ve worn those little lingerie sets he bought for you, tried riding his thigh in nothing but lace. Tried whispering all your filthy little fantasies in his ear, hands sneaking down his pants, lips trailing down his chest.

But every fucking time, it ends the same.

You straddle him.

You grind.

He kisses you slowly.

You can feel him—his hard, thick cock pressing up against your dripping heat.

And just when you think this time, he’s finally going to snap—

He stops.

A knock at the door.

A call from work.

Or worse—he pulls back, looks at you with those gentle fucking eyes, cups your face, and says something like, “Not tonight, sweetheart. I don’t want to rush this.”

And what the fuck are you supposed to do with that?

Your heart aches with how much you love him. Truly. Every day with him feels like living in a dream. He treats you like royalty—makes you feel adored, cherished, like no one else even exists. He never forgets a thing. He compliments you constantly. He’d die before hurting you.

But when you’re ovulating and every nerve ending is on fire, when your skin is begging for his hands, and your body is aching for him to break the rules he set—when you’re on the edge of tears because you’re so painfully, brutally, unapologetically needy—all that love starts to taunt you.

Because it’s not enough.

You’re 99% content. You really are.

But that 1%?

That one, tiny, aching percent that never gets touched? That part is starving.

Sex.

You couldn’t hwlp but feel a little pouty every time your friends launched into another one of their steamy stories—laughing, swapping details, comparing notes like it was the most casual thing in the world.

You’d sit there with your lips pressed into a tight smile, nodding along, trying not to let the emptiness in your chest show.

It wasn’t like you wanted to spill your own secrets—if you even had any. Sex is supposed to be private, intimate, something you wouldn't just toss into a group chat like gossip.

But still… The silence on your end wasn’t a choice. You had nothing to share. No experience. No stories. Just a head full of filthy thoughts and daydreams that kept you up at night, especially when he crossed your mind.

And it’s eating you alive.

You slam your laptop shut, fingers still slick, frustration bubbling under your skin like lava. This isn’t just arousal anymore—it’s anger. It’s longing. It’s desperation laced with hurt, laced with doubt.

Does he not want me?

Does he not think I’m sexy enough?

Does he not feel the same ache I do?

Tears threaten to burn in your eyes, but you blink them back.

No.

Fuck that.

You weren’t going to cry because your own husband wouldn’t fuck you.

You were going to make him.

Your hands found his tie the moment he walked into the bedroom, tired from work, shirt slightly undone, hair a little tousled—the sight of him only made the fire in your gut explode harder.

“My love…” you breathed, your voice nearly shaking as you tugged him down, fingers curling in the fabric of his tie like a lifeline.

A low groan escaped his lips as you pulled him flush against you, your legs locking around his waist like a vice, yanking him down onto the bed without hesitation. The soft thud of his weight on the mattress was drowned out by the pounding in your chest, in your pussy, in your damn soul.

“Kento…” you whined, voice cracking into something that sounded more like a sob, more like please. Your whole body trembled beneath him, needy and raw and exposed.

You were so fucking horny it was hard to think—hard to breathe. Everything felt too hot, too loud, too full of him.

His hands found your hips, grounding and warm. He squeezed them gently, like he always did—so fucking gentle—and you wanted to scream.

“…yes, honey?”

And then you felt it.

He pressed his crotch to your soaked panties, the hard line of his cock dragging against your swollen folds, and you moaned—a broken, uncontrollable sound that came from somewhere deep in your chest.

It wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

“Ken..” you gasped again, hips grinding up to meet him, shameless and desperate. “Please—fuck, please—just fuck me. please.”

Your fingers gripped his shirt now, trembling. “I can’t take it anymore, I can’t—I need you, I fucking need you. Not your fingers. Not your sweet words. Not your soft kisses.”

You looked up at him, wild-eyed, tears threatening again—not from sadness this time, but from the sheer force of everything you’ve buried.

“I need your cock, Kento. I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me until I forget my name. I need to know you want me like that, too.”

He looked stunned. Lips parted. Hands frozen.

He kept looking into your eyes. Deep—like he was staring straight into the core of you, trying to read every emotion you didn’t know how to say without crumbling.

“Darling… we—”

“Oh, is this the part where you tell me we have to wait?” you snapped, “Is this where you say you don’t want to rush our relationship? Where you tell me this can’t be about lust? That you want to wait until it’s the ‘perfect time’?”

Your hands clenched around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer and yet pushing with your words, with the venom dripping from your tongue—born out of pure desperation.

“Are you seriously about to do that again, Ken’? Because I swear I’m gonna lose it.”

“N-No… I mean—”

You shook your head, the burn in your throat threatening to spill into tears, but you swallowed it down because you weren’t sad

You were furious.

“I get frustrated, Ken.” you growled, barely holding yourself together. “I get so mad like I could fucking scream, like I could cry and break things, and I hate it. I hate that I feel this way about you.”

You choked on your breath, the words pouring from you like they’d been waiting at the edge of your tongue for months.

“I get so fucking turned on when you don’t touch me the way I want. When you keep doing this thing where you kiss me like I’m made of porcelain as jf I’ll crack if you fuck me like you want to. And it drives me insane because I know you want to. I can feel it.”

Your hands slid down his chest, your fingers trembling as you pressed your palm against the hard, obvious bulge in his pants.

“You’re hard, Ken’. Every time. Every fucking time. You get like this and then you just—stop. You stop and you say something gentle and sweet and then just nothing happens.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just listened.

“Do you even love me, baby?” you whispered, voice breaking. “Do you even want me? Do you want to fuck me, too, or is that just me?”

“Am I not attractive enough for you? Is that it?” Your voice cracked, your eyes locked on his, daring him to lie—begging him to give you something.

Still, he didn���t interrupt. He didn’t lean in to kiss you and hush you like he always did. He just watched, his jaw tight, eyes burning with something deeper.

Because he wanted to hear it. All of it.

What else did he even make you feel—just because he wanted to be patient? Just because he thought patience was love? When it only made you feel neglected, starved, and completely out of your mind with need?

He was too quiet. Too still.

The silence pressed heavy between you both, louder than any shout, any moan, any begging you’ve ever done.

He just stared, his hands still on your hips, his eyes unreadable—but burning. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, or hurt, or just holding something back with every ounce of control in his body.

And that silence?

It fucking crushed you.

Your throat tightened. You hated how your eyes started to sting again, tears threatening to spill even though you swore you wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. Not over this. Not over the fact that you practically threw yourself at your own husband and he still wouldn’t fuck you.

You looked away, trying to blink the tears back, trying to swallow the humiliation clawing its way up your throat.

“I—I shouldn’t have said anything..” you whispered, voice barely there. “Forget it. Just forget it. Let’s just—go to sleep or something, okay? I didn’t mean to—fuck, I didn’t mean to ruin everything, I just—”

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you.”

Your eyes widened.

Your breath caught.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you ever since the first time I saw you.”

Your eyes snapped to his.

“I wantwd to bend you over the second I heard you laugh.” he went on, voice shaking now—not with hesitation, but with restraint.

“I wanted to have you moaning my name in some dark hallway before I even knew your name. You were wearing that tight fucking skirt and that smug little smirk like you already knew I’d fall for you—and I did. I fucking did.”

“I even wanted to know how good it would sound if you moan my name the moment it left your lips for the first time.” Your breath hitched at his words, your thighs involuntarily clenching.

“You think I don’t want you? Baby, I wake up hard just from dreaming about you. I jerk off in the shower thinking about what your pussy would feel like wrapped around me. I have to force myself to stop every fucking time we make out because I know that if I go too far, I’m not stopping until I’m buried inside you and making you scream.”

You whimpered out loud. You couldn’t help it. He chuckled low, breath heavy against your lips, his cock grinding slow against your soaked core.

“You don’t know how many nights I’ve spent fucking my hand to the thought of you—legs spread, tears on your cheeks, begging for my cock.”

You were trembling now, your nails digging into his shirt. “I thought I was protecting you...” he admitted. “I thought I was being gentle. Loving. Waiting until the right moment. But fuck, baby, I didn’t know I was hurting you by not taking what we both need.”

His hands slid under your shirt, palms hungry against your bare skin.

“and for that… I'm really sorry, I really mean it.” he murmured, his hands slid up under your shirt—warm, wide palms trailing up your sides until they found your breasts, and he groaned.

It was guttural, instinctive, like he couldn’t believe he’d kept himself from touching you like this for so long. He palmed you through your bra at first, then tugged the fabric down, letting your tits spill into his hands.

“Fuck…” he whispered, voice ragged. “Look at you.”

Your hands flew to his—gripping them, grounding yourself. They were so big, so steady, and they felt like fire on your skin. You weren’t even sure if you were holding him there or trying to keep yourself from falling apart.

His thumbs brushed over your nipples underneath your bra which made your back arch, a soft whimper escaping your lips before you could even think to hold it back.

“Every time you’d crawl into my lap…” he growled, “or wear those little shorts around the house... I’d have to walk away, baby. I’d go to the other room and calm myself down so I wouldn’t bend you over the fucking couch like I wanted to.”

You whimpered again, biting your lip as your thighs rubbed together, aching for friction.

“I’d picture this.” he murmured, leaning in to kiss down your neck, nipping at your skin like he couldn’t stand not having more. “Your tits in my hands. Your legs wrapped around me. Your pussy so wet and hot and ready for me. I’d picture you on your knees, begging me to ruin you.”

“Ken—Kento..”

He pressed his forehead to yours again, his hands still full of you, his cock grinding harder into your soaked panties as he stared down at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

“I get it. So…” he whispered. “Tell me what to do.”

You blinked up at him, your lips parted, breath stuttering, heart pounding like a fucking drum.

“Tell me how to touch you. Where to kiss you. How to fuck you. I’ll do any-everything. just tell me.”

You looked up at him, breathless, pupils blown wide, hair a mess, nipples hard under his fingers—but your voice? It came out sharp, needy, laced with months—years—of built-up frustration.

“You wanna know what to do, Ken?” you hissed, your hips jerking up against him, chasing friction like your life depended on it. “Start by not stopping this time. Touch me like you mean it…” you snapped, grinding up into his cock, desperate and aching.

“No more slow fucking kisses and soft whispers and telling me to wait for the right time. This is the right fucking time. I’m wet, I’m throbbing, and if you don’t fuck me tonight, I swear, I’m gonna hump your fucking thigh until I pass out.”

“I’m not made of glass, Kento.” you added, wrapping your fingers around his wrists, dragging his hands down to your waist, then back up to your breasts again, encouraging him to squeeze harder—needier.

“You can be rough with me. I want it. I need it. I need to feel your cock inside me, I need to hear you lose control. I need to see what the fuck you look like when you’re not trying so hard to be perfect.”

You were rambling, but you didn’t care. You were trembling under him, wild with want, your panties completely ruined, sticking to your folds, your clit aching from how ignored it had been for far too fucking long.

“I want you to grab me. Flip me. Manhandle me if you fucking have to. I want you to fuck me until my thighs shake and I cry and scream and forget my own name—”

“You want all that?”

You grabbed his tie and yanked his face down, nose to nose, your lips brushing against his as you hissed.

“Yes. I want all of it. I want you, Kento. I want every filthy, pent-up, repressed, desperate thought you’ve ever had about me. on me. in me. right fucking now.”

He blinked once… then his mouth was on yours, hands everywhere, his tongue slid against yours, wet and messy and hot, swallowing the soft whimpers falling out of your mouth as he ground his cock right against your soaked panties, letting you feel how thick and hard he was for you.

One of his hands gripped your breast, kneading it roughly, finally without hesitation. The other slid down—quick, deliberate—and he moaned into your mouth when he felt the mess between your thighs.

“You’re soaked…” he growled. “my wife is fucking dripping.”

Your hips jerked when his fingers pressed to your clothed clit, just enough to make you jolt with a high-pitched cry. He smirked against your lips. “You meant it, didn’t you?”

“you whimpered, “stop teasing—fuck—fuck me alrwady.”

You were tugging at his belt now, frantic and shaking, and he let you—watched as you undid the buckle, pulled the zipper down, reached into his boxers with desperate, greedy fingers. You wrapped your hand around him and nearly gasped.

Fuck, he's huge. Hot, heavy, twitching against your palm.

“Y-You’ve been hiding this.” you choked out, stroking him slow just to feel the way his hips shuddered.

“I was- trying to be patient,” he rasped, voice nearly hoarse now. “But you—fuck… you test me every day, baby.”

His hand pushed your panties aside and when his fingers slid through your folds, his whole body shuddered.

“So wet for me… So soft.” he whispered. “I’ve dreamed about this—about the way you’d feel, how tight you’d be.”

“Then take meeee…” you pleaded, voice breaking. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, Kento. Just—please. I need it. I need you.”

He grabbed you by the hips and hooked your legs around his waist. Your panties were gone in seconds—ripped, tossed somewhere blindly across the room.

He positioned himself at your entrance, just barely pressing the thick tip against your soaked slit, teasing your hole. You whimpered, trying to push your hips up, but he gripped your thighs hard, pinning you in place.

“Tell me again..”

“I want you, Kento, so fuckinggg bad.” you breathed, nearly sobbing from the anticipation. “I want your cock. I want you to fuck me like you’ve been dying to. I want you to ruin me.”

That was all it took.

He pushed in, slow at first, making sure you felt every inch, veins, size—stretching you so fucking deep your back arched off the bed and a broken moan ripped from your throat.

“Oh fuck—Ken—Kento—”

He bottomed out and stayed there for a second, just breathing, gripping your hips like he was holding himself together with threads.

“You feel… incredible..” he groaned. “So tight—so fucking perfect for me.” Then he pulled out, and slammed back in—hard, which made you scream.

He didn’t give you a second to recover—he started pounding into you like he was possessed, like every bit of restraint and patience he’d shown all these years had finally exploded into raw, filthy need.

and you love it.

Your body bounced with each thrust, your thighs trembling as he slammed into you again and again, the sound of skin slapping and your soaked pussy squelching filling the fucking room.

“This is what my wife wanted so bad, right?” he groaned into your ear, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand, the other gripping your waist so tight it might bruise. “This what you were so desperate for, baby?”

“Yes—fuck—yes, Kento!” you cried, arching into him, legs shaking from how deep he was.

"Take it nicely, just like that..."

His cock hit places your fingers never could—each thrust pressing against your sweet spot so perfectly you were already close to tears. It was brutal, perfectly brutal, rough in the exact way you’d been begging for. You sobbed, the pleasure too much, the pressure too high.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you like this since the first time you touched yourself beside me and thought I didn’t notice.” he groaned, mouth against your jaw. “Thought I didn’t see the way your thighs shook, the way you whispered my name when you thought I was asleep.”

Your walls clenched around him hard.

“Oh my—Ken—please—please don’t stop!” you begged, barely able to breathe between moans. “Harder, please, harder—”

He let go of your wrists and grabbed your throat, just gently, enough to tilt your chin up so he could look you in the eyes while he ruined you.

“Look at me when you cum.” he growled. “I want to see your face when I make you fall apart.”

And fuck, you were so close—his cock dragging over your most sensitive spot with every savage thrust, your clit grinding against the base of him with every slam of his hips, your walls spasming already.

“Oh, my sweet baby…” he hissed, thrusting harder, deeper, his voice dark and breathless. “Cum all over my cock, baby—show me how much you fucking needed it.”

You choked on a cry, nails raking down his back, and your whole body tensed.

Then shattered.

Your orgasm hit like a fucking truck—hot, intense, blinding—your mouth wide open in a silent scream, tears streaming down your cheeks from how violently your body shook beneath him.

He groaned when he felt you clamp down around him, hips stuttering as he fucked you through your high.

“That’s it.” he grunted. “Good girl—such a good fucking girl—taking me so well—”

He pulled out just in time, groaning deep as he came all over your stomach and thighs, hot and thick and messy, hand wrapped around his cock as he finished, eyes locked onto your tear-streaked, fucked-out face.

You were gasping for air, still trembling, legs spread wide and twitching. “Why did you pull outtt, Kennn???” you whined, breath hitching, still sprawled out beneath him—skin flushed, soaked, trembling.

Your voice was hoarse, cracked with frustration and the remnants of your high, but still laced with that needy, bratty tone only he could pull out of you.

Nanami’s chest rose and fell, his breath still uneven, a strand of hair stuck to his damp forehead. “I-... Are you alright? I wasn't rough, was I? Did I hurt you—”

“Nooo.. answer my question, baby!” you whined as he blinked down at you, dazed, cock still twitching in his fist. And then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“You were that desperate to get bred, huh?” he murmured, fingers tracing the mess he made across your stomach, dragging the thick cum over your skin in lazy, teasing circles. “You wanted all of it, baby? Inside?”

You nodded uncontrollably, whimpered while your hips twitches at his words, at the way his tone dropped.

“Yes, fuck, Ken… I wanted you to fill me up—why’d you fucking stopp?” Your voice crscked again as you glared up at him with glossy eyes, grabbing at his wrist. “You always stop. I wanted to feel it, feel you, all the way—”

He leaned in, crowding over you again, one big hand sliding under your ass to keep your legs spread, the other smearing more of his cum onto your inner thighs like he was marking you.

“Then tell me..” he whispered, voice low and gravelly, lips brushing your ear. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you next.”

You rolled your eyes, “Be roughhh, babyyy..”

“You don’t want me to be careful?” he growled, voice rough in your ear as his cock pressed right back against your soaked folds, already hard again. “Not now. Please.”

“Then I hope you’re ready to take every fucking inch of me.” He grinned, making you gasped as he slid back in—slow, just to tease, just to make you feel that first stretch.

You clawed at his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist again, heels digging into his back to force him deeper.

“Fuck—fuck, yes, right tbere—” you sobbed, already overwhelmed, already addicted to the way he filled you. “Don’t stop, Ken—don’t you fucking stop again! Fuckkk- Don't stop—”

He didn’t.

He gripped your thighs and snapped his hips forward hard, burying himself to the hilt with a growl that shook through your body.

The bed rocked.

The sounds—wet, deep groans, filthy moans—filled the room even more as he started thrusting, deep and rough and mean, but with that same love in his touch that made it unbearable in the best way.

One of his hands slid between your bodies, cupping your tits, squeezing them, thumbing over your nipple as you writhed beneath him.

“You feel this?” he grunted. “This pussy was made for me. Yeah? Take it slow… Take it like a good girl. I love you, sweetheart.”

You couldn't even form a response, your nails scratched down his back, your mouth open in a cry of desperate pleasure.

“I wanted you bent over every surface in our fucking house.” he kept going, hips snapping, “Wanted to watch my cum leak out of your pretty pussy while you begged me to give you more. I wanted to ruin you.”

“Then fucking ruin me, Ken!” you screamed, tears slipping down your cheeks again. “Mark me up, mess me up, make me yours—do whatever the fuck you want to me!”

He kissed you then—deep, harsh, tongue in your mouth while he rammed into you, over and over and over, chasing the orgasm he’d been holding back for years.

And this time?

He didn’t pull out.

You couldn’t bring yourself to admit just how badly you wanted him to fill you up — not because you actually wanted kids right now, but because the idea of it, of him, made something primal stir inside you.

It was embarrassing, really — how every time he interacted with children, something in you ached. The way his voice softened, the way his eyes lit up with warmth and patience — it drove you absolutely wild. Kids love him and his presence so much. You’d never imagined something so domestic could be so erotic.

Maybe it's just you though...

And yet, the thought crossed your mind again.. Would it be too much to call him daddy? The word itself felt cringe, almost ridiculous on your tongue, and you worried it might ruin the moment — that it might make him laugh, or worse, be turned off, and look at you differently.

So instead, you bit your lip and stayed quiet, your breath catching as the heat between your bodies lingered.

Your hands flew up to cover your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds that slipped out anyway. Sweat clung to your skin, your bodies still tangled in the aftermath of pleasure, his weight a welcome pressure atop you.

Every slight shift sent aftershocks through you, and you didn’t know if your body could handle another round. But deep down, you knew you didn’t want him to stop.

His breath was hot against your neck, each exhale fanning over your damp skin like a whisper of fire. You felt the way his chest rose and fell against yours, the weight of his body grounding you, making everything outside this room feel far away.

His fingers grazed along your waist, a slow, deliberate touch, as if he was memorizing you, all over, again.

Your thighs trembled around his hips, still sensitive from the last wave he pulled from you.

You whimpered softly, unsure whether it was from overstimulation or craving more. Probably both.

He tilted his head, catching the sound, and you didn’t have to look to know he was smirking—that teasing, dangerous smirk that always made your breath hitch.

“You’re so quiet all of a sudden, my love.” he murmured, voice thick and low, words dragging through your skin like silk and smoke. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not with your heart hammering in your chest and your mind so full of him, of the way he held you like you were fragile and ruined all at once.

The word lingered on your tongue—Daddy—and the thought of saying it out loud made your thighs press tighter around him.

Embarrassment flared in your stomach, but it was quickly drowned out by the fire he lit every time he touched you.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, brushing the hair from your flushed face. “What are you thinking about?”

You bit your lip, eyes locked on his. Maybe it was the afterglow talking. Maybe it was the way he was still inside you, making you feel so full, so connected, like he could reach into your soul and leave a mark. But the truth bubbled up anyway, hot and real.

“I was thinking…” You hesitated, cheeks burning. “…how badly I want you. How badly I want to give you everything—even if I’m not ready for what that means.”

“You already gave me everything..”

His words struck something deep inside you—a tenderness that made your chest ache more than the roughness ever could.

You blinked up at him, eyes glassy, lips parted. You could feel how hard he was trying to hold himself back now, his usual teasing edge traded for something raw, reverent. Like he was worshipping every inch of you just by being there. Just by staying.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, the pad of it catching on the slight swell of your bottom lip. “You don’t have to be ready..” he murmured, voice low and honest. “Not for that. Not for anything you're not sure about. But if you ever are…” His gaze dropped to your lips, then lower—to where your bodies were still joined. “Just say the word, and I’ll give you everything.”

You whimpered, the sound caught somewhere between need and awe. Your hips shifted instinctively, a silent plea for more, even if your body was already spent and trembling.

The heat hadn’t left you—it only simmered lower, deeper, curling in your belly like a secret promise.

And he felt it. Of course he did. The faint movement. The soft squeeze of your walls around him. The way your eyes silently begged.

“Still not done with me?” he asked, teasing but gentle. “I don’t think I’ll ever be done with you.” you breathed, your fingers threading into the damp strands of his hair.

“I want you to ruin me, Ken. Again. Slowly this time.”

“Then we’ll take our time.”

© [ adorekento ] do not steal, repost, or translate my work.

[0coffeeplease0]

uhh forsaken killers and survivors w a shelly reader from Dw?Like the particular reason they got forsakened was because they kept on getting ignored?

Yessir as shelly main I will do it.

Anyways I was mostly inspired by that headlock meme ivyfideo made in tik tok.

Forsaken Survivors + Killers x Forsakend Shelly GN Reader

Note: this is gonna be a one-shot and headcanon.

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Death, gore, bad words :)

NOTICE ME NOW...

☆~~♡~~☆

You were fixing a machine, the round had started not long ago. You start hearing footsteps you look around to see Noob, you waved, and Noob looked like he hadn't noticed it. You should have expected that.

Everyone ignored you, forgot about you, you were and outcast, not even the most decent people like Dusekkar noticed you.

You start to remember how the others acted with you, Elliot would have given someone else a slice of pizza while they have more HP than you do, you had asked Elliot if you could have a slice but he always acted as if you're invisible...

The killers, they don't seem to notice you either, but if you get in their way they won't hesitate to kill you. You were tired of it, tired of being the one who is forgotten, you just want them to notice you and talk to you...and in this round that would be the final straw.

You were running away from the killer, you tried to find Shedletsky or Chance to help, of course, everyone was gathered around together. They seemed had to notice the killer, but not you, before the last second of the timer stopped everything...everything was pain.

You fell to the ground and looked down, you were cut in half by the last second, you try to get someone to help you but they walk past you...

You feel anger, a feeling you haven't felt before.

Fine.

If they aren't going to notice you while being friendly then they will notice you by murdering them.

You felt your body transforming, it was all painful.

With the survivors.

Noob was talking with elliot he seemed worried for you, he had spoken about it with Elliot but Elliot only told him, "Don't worry about them I'm sure they are ok."

He feels guilty for ignoring you most of the time, maybe he could try and make it to you...that is if he dosent forget you in the process. Noob kept walking right behind the others, but he stopped for a bit, he heart loud footsteps before he could react something had chomped down on his neck, he couldn't scream, Noob felt the teeth of whatever was biting on his neck, sink deeper. Then, crunch...

Everyone turned around, everyone was shocked, it was you...you were different, your torso, composed of an exposed rib cage which looks like a dinosaurs bone, with the tips of each rib sharpened. Your entire skeletal torso is covered in some black gooey substances.

Then you attack, clawing at Elliot in the chest, Elliot had little time to recover as you had stomped on his head, blood splattering. The others ran, a new timer has been set, you began you're chase.

You were after Dusekkar, you were after him, you were so fast, Dusekkar felt his stamina drain he was getting tired, but before he could worry any longer, Shedletsky had striked. He had stunned you...but it didn't last long as you came back to your senses quickly, and swung your tail, hitting Shedletsky, and he was sent flying until he hits a wall, before he could get up and make a run, your clawed hand had grabbed Shedletsky by the neck and 'snap'.

Dusekkar who had witnessed this, felt helpless, he wondered why you turned this way... but of course he knew why...everyone had forgotten about your existence, and they were to blame for it...and he felt guilty. But suddenly Dusekkar felt a pain, something was, no, something chomped down on his head, but then it all went black.

It wasn't long as you killed everyone 1 by 1, the satisfaction you had felt even if anger was still drowning you, you looked around to admire what you had done, blood surrounded the place scared across the walls, limbs, guts...

As you ripped Chance's vocal cords out with your clawed hands the timer ended.

After everyone had recovered from the events they looked at Builderman who was holding a chart, the new killer...was you...and they knew that you were a serious threat, but they all were guilty of the way you had become...

☆~~♡~~☆

☆Headcannons☆

Noob

•He felt very guilty.

•He blames himself for everything that had happend with you.

•He is afraid of you.

•He wants to apologize but he knows that if he does, his apologies will fall to deaf ears.

Elliot

•Elliot feels even more guilty, he has seen you almost die but he never gave you a slice.

•He thinks that if he had healed you sooner you would still be you.

•He regrets not helping you or even noticing you.

Chance

•He genuinely feels like cr4p, He knew you were real, that you actually had feelings but he never talked to you.

•He feels slightly guilty, but he's more worried on how to outlive you in the rounds.

Two Time

•Did the Spawn punish them?

•they think that it's your fault.

Guest 1337

•He is more worried on how everyone can survive you, bit you were to big to even do much, you had changed into something dangerous.

•He does feel guilty, he has noticed you, has walked by you, but never really said anything to you.

Shedletsky

•He feels like an a-hole, but he can't feel guilty at this time, he needs to find a strategy to make sure no one dies much whenever it's your turn in rounds.

Builderman

•Feels bad for you, but he dosent have time for those feelings after you had demolished his machines in one go, he needs something stronger.

007n7

•Very guilty, he knows it's not entirely his fault in why you became a killer, but he also knows that you had a good reason to.

•He fears you, he really does, he wonders just how creative you can get with killing.

Dusekkar

•He saw it all coming but he didn't think that it would be so soon, still shaken up after what he had witnessed.

•Even if you are long gone, he makes sure to keep your stuff clean, that dinosaur book you had in there? Not a single spec of dust.

Taph

•Youa re a bigger threat, he can see it, but he knows that he has to deal with it.

•He wishes to help you go back to who you were before, but if you did, they would keep forgetting you...

☆~~♡~~☆

Kilers

1x1x1x1

•After he had spectated, they haven't said a word, she tried to talk to you but you had snapped at him.

•He knew you were going to be a very strong killer, maybe he could try and manipulate you.

John Doe

•He didn't do much after what had happend.

c00lkid

•He thinks you are so cool like this but also he is terrified, after spectating you he had witnessed the way you killed his dad, this made him scared...

•But you wouldn't hurt his dad like that if he asked you kindly, right?

Azure

•Thinks that it was Two Time who had provoked you.

☆~~♡~~☆

Ending note: ima leave it here I'm doing this at 4:08 a.m. because I couldn't sleep and now I feel tired.

[whatcoloristhatcat]

raises hand What is a chimera and how does it work <- this is me giving you the opportunity to infodump, if you'd like me to google it instead i can lol dw <3

i'm sure i've explained this at some point but i can't find it everyone says thank you tumblr search function

simply, a chimera is when two zygotes fuse in utero and become one cat (this can occur in all sorts of animals and plants and other kinds of organisms as well but we're talking about cats here)

it does NOT mean all chimeras have some kind of genetically impossible patterns or are inherently visually striking. there are definitely many kinds of chimeras out there that simply go unnoticed because they are two solid black cats or a red and a white cat fused, for example. chimeras can also have patches with xx and xy chromosomes if a female and male cat fused

here's a graphic from the messybeast about it

however, chimeras can of course display coat patterns that are generally otherwise genetically impossible, for example (chimeras from the messybeast):

dense and dilute colors (red and dilute black (blue)):

point and non-point, xx and xy (red (flame) point male and non-point tortoiseshell female):

(probable chimera) shorthair and longhair:

(probable chimera) solid and tabby (dilute black (blue) and red tabby):

genetically, they're really cool. i would love to see more actual research into them!

why i get so fired up about it is the misinformation that flies around online about chimeras. if you look at that graphic from the messybeast up top, you'll see a note that a split-face appearance in tortoiseshell is not an indication of chimerism.

anyways, let's google chimeras for a second

ok.

i'm in the trenches with seeing all these "we said so" chimeras because i'm constantly tagged in them. please note! i'm not mad that people tag me in them and don't know! it's not common knowledge especially with all the people trying to catch some internet fame with their super real for sure chimeras

so i could write a dissertation here about how it does still matter because it's misinformation and there could be some health consequences we don't know about and how it's skewing the public perception of chimeras and that could have some influence on what research is done in chimeras (which again occurs in all sort of organisms, including humans) but you didn't even ask about any of this. so i'm going to end here. please remember that a split-face tortoiseshell is very likely not a chimera ok. i love you

[seraphhskies]

angry love confessions

--⋆♱✮♱⋆--

wolverine (logan howlett) x gn! xmen! reader

word count: 807 type: fluff! cw: 18+ language, anger & cursing but it's wholesome, slightly suggestive ending

summary: reader (you) come back after a solo mission, one that Logan specifically didn't want you going on. a/n: AHH ok i wrote my first requested one, n my first logan fic! please leave any feedback you have, and feel free to leave requests :) i like to write fluff and smut mostly, so leave whatever you'd like! this is short for one of my works, but we'll get there dw (i'm absolutely dying to write a wade fic, so pleaseplease send those i'm begging)

--⋆♱✮♱⋆--

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Logan exploded, yelling at you from across the counter. You scowled right back at him, standing up from where you had previously been trying to eat. It had been awkwardly silent, until he finally just snapped.

“I was thinking that I could be helpful for once!” You returned, matching his tone with a much calmer energy. Your brow was furrowed as you placed your hands on the counter. Logan paced, angry eyes studying your face before he looked away, taking a few steps in your direction.

“You could have been killed,” He hissed, pointing at you as if to prove a point. You scoffed. “I’m fine! We needed to get them out and you wanted to wait too long!” Your tone was pointed, briefly registering the sound of footsteps before they turned back the way they came. 

“Yeah, it’s safer to have people with you.” Logan growled, eyes darting towards your bandaged shoulder. You rolled your eyes. Logan’s protective nature was really showing, but it wasn’t making sense.

“It’s not a big deal,” You insisted. “Nobody had to get hurt, and I handled it just fine.” You were defensive, a bit irritated that the man was babying you. Logan, without a doubt, was who you were closest to- and sure, he was as protective of you as everyone else. But this? This was new. 

“You got hurt,” He huffed, almost in disbelief. “I’m. Fine.” You repeated, in the most defiant, sure tone you could manage. 

“Yeah, and what if you weren’t?” Logan asked rhetorically. “Who woulda saved you then, bub?” He growled, crossing the room towards you. You could practically feel his breath on your face. You looked up at him, the man quite a few inches taller than you- but you stood defiantly. 

“It didn’t come to that.” You argued. 

He groaned in irritation, turning away from you and running a hand through his hair. Hurt coursed through you, but mostly confusion.

“Why the fuck do you care so much, Logan?” You finally voiced, still argumentative as you stood up for yourself. “I mean, you’re acting like me saving people- doing my job, is a big fucking problem!” 

You could see his shoulders tense, but you kept going- anger pooling in your stomach as you vented. 

“I am here, I’m safe, and I’m fine. What’s the big fucking deal?” At your accusing tone, he finally turned around- his scowl practically forming a snarl. 

“You could have died.” Logan ground out. 

“Yeah, and?” You scoffed, waving off your possible death as though it were nothing. “We’re X-Men,” A mirthless laugh left you. “Don’t see why you ca-”

“Because I love you,” He yelled, chest heaving with his confession. Your eyes went wide, processing what he said. 

Oh.

“What?” You breathed, just standing there in shock. 

“I-” Logan hesitated, anger finally starting to dim. “I fuckin’ love you,” He confessed. Emotions flickered through you. Was he being serious?

“Always have.” He said gruffly, crossing his arms in a defensive manner. “And you just go off and nearly get yourself killed- but the worst part is you don’t care.” The last part was a hiss, but you were already starting to grin. Your anger was practically forgotten.

“You love me?” You asked, just double checking. Logan glared at you, but nodded silently. You felt like a schoolgirl who’s crush was returned, as you had been pining for Logan since as long as you had been friends. 

God, was this real? 

You took two steps, crossing the distance between you easily, and clutched his shirt. You drew him to you as roughly as you could manage and pressed your lips to his. He groaned in surprise, quickly returning the kiss. 

You sighed against his mouth, feeling his stubble prickling you as you cupped his cheek. Your mouths moved together in perfect sync, before the kiss turned rough- quickly becoming all tongue and teeth. His hands were warm on your waist, drawing you impossibly close as your bodies molded perfectly together. 

By the time you separated, a string of saliva connected the two of you. 

“For the record,” You said with a grin, making no move to escape the man's hold. “I love you too.” 

His lips captured yours once more in a searing kiss, one that sent burning need coursing through your body. He felt so right against you, and you felt yourself melting against him once more. 

“Argument’s not over.” Logan grunted once you pulled away, resting his forehead against your own. You hummed. 

“Argue in the bedroom.” You cracked a smile, opening your eyes before a yelp left you. Logan hoisted you up- practically tossing you over his shoulder. You tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he held firm, hiding the smug look on his face. 

And argue he did. 

[cautious-soup]

Bully!(Only I make you like this) Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader

Part 2

Part 1

CW// Noncon, degredation, physical abuse, implied choking, destruction of personal property :( Satoru isn't very nice, ooc Satoru Gojo in that he's an evil bastard

Summary: Satoru has lots of fun at your expense, and tries not to think about his feelings.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♠︎♤♤♤♤♤

Satoru never had a hard time talking to people. Most considered him easy to talk to, pleasant. He was a little baffled, honestly, to see just how differently other people were treated compared to him, but it made sense. He was amazing, after all.

It was because of this that he never had any trouble getting into your dorm building.

"Hey, my bad I forgot my key, can I go in after you?"

Like usual, the person nods and lets Satoru in without a second glance. He hums on the elevator up to the 4th floor, gets off, and strides to your room.

He knocks three times, and when you don't come to the door, he sighs and texts you.

Satoru: let me in

Y/N: Im not here, go away

Y/N: *there. Im not there, so leave

Satoru: lolololol

Satoru: hey this is actually a great opportunity for me to show u something

You squint down at your phone in confusion, then panic when you hear a key turning in the door. Sure enough, Satoru walks in like he owns the place.

"These hard keys are really outdated huh?" He says, "Such a security risk, waaaay to easy to make copies," he twirls said copy around his finger, and you sag in defeat.

"You hurt my feelings Y/N," Satoru sighs, "I mean, lying, really? You don't wanna see me that bad?"

"I wish you were dead, that's how much I don't wanna see you," you say. It doesn't matter how you provoke him, it'll be awful either way.

"Aaah, such a rude thing to say," he says, "Now I'm real hurt, Y/N, and the only way I can feel better is if I hurt you back,"

Your breathing quickens. Scooting back on your bed, you squeeze your eyes shut as Satoru closes in on you.

Then, your door opens again, and you nearly sob with relief.

"Oh!" Your roommate tilts her head at Satoru, "Woah, aren't you on our basketball team?"

You can see Satoru's jaw tick, and you scramble for a response.

Getting out of bed, you smile at your roommate, "Hey! Are you headed to the library? I was just about to go myself, wanna head out?"

Your roommate looks between you and Satoru, "Um, if I'm interrupting--"

"No! No no you're not interrupting anything, come on, if we hurry we'll be able to grab smoothies on our way there,"

As you both stand in the elevator, your roommate peers at you curiously.

"Was it ok just to leave him in there like that?"

You shudder, but play it off as a laugh, "Yeah he uh, the library's crowded so he wanted to use my room to study hahaha,"

"...so why'd you suggest going to the library then?"

You give an answer so half assed you don't even remember it. As you stiffly walk towards the exit, your phone buzzes.

Satoru: ur so funny

Satoru: dw ill getcha next time 👍🏻

Satoru: its gonna hurt btw lololol

Satoru pocketed his phone and hummed. He'd gone through the trouble of learning your roommate's schedule, but evidently that wasn't enough.

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He did, in fact, make it hurt.

It was as if all of the effort he'd ever put into anything was focused down into the singular purpose of wrecking you.

Your grip on your sheets slackened as Satoru caged you in from behind, draping himself over you.

"Tired already?" He asks, you feel the heat of his words against your cheek, "I've got plenty of time, Y/N,"

But not enough.

Lately, Satoru's been making up reasons to see you. It was getting close to midterms, and he told himself he'd be done by then.

Really, he just expected to get bored with you.

But you kept giving, kept feeding something inside of him he didn't even know needed to be fed. Every time you whimpered, cried, begged, pleaded, and bled for him, that odd chasm in his chest shrunk just a bit.

You shudder as Satoru noses the damp nape of your neck, and wait for it to be over.

Some time later, Satoru's phone buzzes.

Sho: party's lit

Sho: u still coming?

Satoru pants, running a hand through his hair and sitting up. You shift on your mattress, turning so you're on your back, and stare up at him.

Satoru tapped his fingers idly on the side of his phone. He looked down at it, then down further at you, at your puffy eyes, at your hair splaying over your pillow, at the bruise around your neck.

Satoru: nah. u guys have fun tho

Tossing his phone aside, Satoru resumes, grabbing your hips and sinking inside of you. You whimper, and he's thankful it's too dark for you to see his eyes rolling back into his head.

"Hngh, nnf, ugh,"

Satoru grins at your blubbering, leaning down to lick up the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Better hold on tight babe, I'm nowhere near done yet," he whispered.

Your bed frame rocked against the wall so hard that night, you knew it would be impossible to explain away the noise tomorrow.

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What would be the appropriate reaction to losing a laptop with years' worth of essays, creative writing pieces, poems and school projects, and watching it sink to the bottom of a duck pond?

You're not sure, you honestly can't react at all.

Satoru is laughing his ass off next to you, still holding your bag and letting the remaining contents fall to the ground. He reels his arm back and chucks your bag into the pond too.

"Heehehehe, oh man, I wish I could keep that look on your face in a bottle," Satoru panted, trying to catch his breath.

You make a lot of expressions that he likes. Sometimes, when he's bored in class or with running drills on the court, he'll cycle through them in his head.

Lips pursed and brows furrowed means you're thinking about how to solve a problem (and Satoru isn't a problem that can be solved.)

Eyes wide and lips slightly parted means you're scared. He always loves making this look melt into one of anguished pleasure, tears streaming down your cheeks, lip bitten raw, eyes squeezed shut.

But he realizes something in that moment, watching your bag soak up the dirty pond water and start to sink.

He looks over at you, at the expression on your face--or lack thereof.

He's never seen you smile before.

Sure, he stalked your friends' social media (you don't have social media) and saw the group photos you took with them, saw your smile, but you never smiled around him.

He looks over at the pond, then back at you.

Maybe you're ticklish.

He tries it the next time you're under him, your bra pushed up and your panties around your ankle. He grins when you're off guard and runs his hands over your sides.

You stare incredulously at him.

"Eeh?" He pouts down at you, "You're not ticklish at all?"

You scoff, "Sorry, being bullied and sexually assaulted regularly doesn't really put me in a laughing mood,"

Satoru sneers, "Kch, ok. I guess all that's left is for me to put you in an even worse mood then huh?"

Unsure of what sore spot you hit, your pussy endures another hour of being well and truly fucked.

And when you think he's done, Satoru heaves you up by your thighs and walks across your room to the full length mirror propped up by the door.

You gasp, impulsively covering your face with your hands, but Satoru drops you to your feet, grabbing your wrists with one hand and keeping them twisted behind your back.

"You're going to look," he murmurs lowly. You meet his blue eyes peering over your shoulder in the reflection, "You'll look, and you'll see what I do to you,"

You sob as Satoru grabs your chin and forces you to look at yourself, he realigns himself with your entrance and starts punching moans from your throat. You struggle against his grip, but he tightens his hold, and fucks you harder.

Eventually, you're begging. You're humiliating yourself and begging to cum, each thrust leaving you dumber than you were before.

"See, there's no need to act all high and mighty Y/N." Satoru purred, turning your chin to face him, "In the end, you're nothing but a dick hungry whore,"

You sag against Satoru as he slots his mouth against yours, letting his tongue past your lips. The ensuing orgasm lights up your entire nervous system; it almost hurts.

Satoru lets go of your wrists and lets you drop to your knees in front of the mirror. You lay on the floor panting, vaguely registering the sound of rustling clothes.

Satoru appears in front of the mirror again, tidying up his hair and tugging his shirt down, before turning and leaving your room.

"See ya around," he says without looking back.

You stare at the door in silence.

Part 3

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A/N: Hello! Sorry if any of this is formatted weird, I just decided to do everything on my phone this time lol. Hope you all enjoyed reading this :)

[tinycoffeeroom]

thank god for bikes | arthurtv

inspired by @mrstelevision 🤍

face claim: steph bohrer ♡

request: here !

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📍 london

liked by gkbarry, max_balegde, and 98,302 others

y/nsworld about last night ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

view all 3,392 comments

user1 i'm in love with you

gkbarry cant believe i didn't even get photo creds ↳ y/nsworld please forgive my sins oh great gkbarry

user2 y/n!! i think the guys u mentioned on ur twt was george clarke and arthurtv!! arthur posted on twt about george getting hit by a bike on a wall!! ↳ y/nsworld !! let me check his twt <3

liked by y/nsworld, wroetoshaw and 29,492 others

arthurtv first pic taken moments before disaster (at least this one won't leave a scar)

georgeclarkeey don't know what was worse, the bike ptsd or you dribbling down your shirt ↳ arthurtv your mum doesn't mind my dribbling ↳ y/nsworld the dribbling was funnier to watch tbh ↳ georgeclarkeey take that mr television

gkbarry i didn't even notice it was you guys hiding in the corner ↳ georgeclarkeey just wanted some alone time with my boyfriend x ↳ arthurtv stop telling people i'm your boyfriend!!

👤 max_balegde liked by max_balegde, arthurtv and 38,028 others

y/nsworld wine in coffee cups and classic literature in a park, my idea of heaven ꕤ

max_balegde got home off my head and now andrews mad i've ruined dinner plans ↳ y/nsworld andrew baby im so sorry :( ↳ andrew_spanndy could never blame you xx ↳ max_balegde god just date her already wooooow

gkbarry regret introducing the two of you, my poor ears will never recover from this ↳ y/nsworld thats your fault for putting two professional yappers together xx

arthurtv pretty sure that's bride you're reading... wouldn't call werewolf smut classic literature ↳ y/nsworld and how do YOU know what's in the book? 🤨

👤 arthur_tv, max_balegde liked by y/nsworld, arthurnfhill and 30,395 others

georgeclarkeey totally normal photo to promote the newest useless hotline ep x

max_balegde rip my purple crocs... can't believe y/n stole them right off my feet... ↳ user2 !!! y/n at the arthurtv podcast recording?? my y/ntv senses are tingling ↳ user3 i'm pretty sure she was there bc her and max are friends... ♥️ y/nsworld ↳ user2 they've never randomly had their friends at recordings, dw you'll join the y/ntv cult soon

📍 ibiza

👤 georgeclarkeey, chrismd, arthurnfhill liked by arthurnfhill, y/nsworld and 45,028 others

arthurtv thank you spotify for inviting us out! (photo cred: y/nsworld)

user2 i am going to scream from the rooftops, y/ntv'ers unite!!

y/nsworld should receive compensation for having to look at george's bare grippers the entire weekend ↳ arthurtv will bring round some wine this weekend ↳ y/nsworld good boy ↳ user2 ... y'all are fucking with me atp

📍 ibiza

liked by arthurtv, gkbarry and 83,028 others

y/nsworld beach bum 𓇼

gkbarry happiness looks so good on you ↳ y/nsworld i love the bones of you

user2 !! WHO TOOK THE PHOTO I FEEL INSANE ↳ y/nsworld my friend! :)

📍 ibiza

liked by y/nsworld, georgeclarkeey and 49,204 others

arthurtv decided to stay in the sunshine a few more days :)

user3 user2 i fear you may be onto something ↳ user2 i'm gonna eat glass. like i am actually putting shards in my mouth rn ↳ y/nsworld omg pls don't

y/nsworld looking good mr television ↳ arthurtv why thank you miss world

liked by arthurtv, max_balegde and 83,028 others

y/nsworld use code ynsworld for 15% off ⋆⭒˚｡���

max_balegde leaving my bf for you rn. ↳ andrew_spanndy not if i leave you first ↳ y/nsworld i can date both of you at the same time xx

arthurtv djsidjief djg ↳ y/nsworld you ok mr television?

y/nsworld didn't even think about what i was wearing when i went to go see mr hill sing about cold coffee, sorry guys you got the wrong arthur xx

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👤 y/nsworld liked by y/nsworld, arthurnfhill and 93,294 others

arthurtv someone forgot to change over to their finsta so i guess it's hard launch time... somehow got the most gorgeous girl on earth to agree to date me, must be my fantastic sense of humour

y/nsworld lbr most of them already knew, we weren't exactly subtle ↳ arthurtv speak for yourself xx

theburntchip it's the big ol' hog you got in them trousers ♥️ y/nsworld ↳ arthurtv ah yes forgot about that

max_balegde take care of her or me and andrew are snatching her real quick ↳ y/nsworld ... i may have to do some rethinking

user2 i can't believe i was right... VINDICATION ♥️ arthurtv, y/nsworld

👤 arthur_tv liked by arthurtv, gkbarry and 104,845 others

y/nsworld told him i forgot to change to finsta but really i just wanted to show that i bagged a hottie ✮⋆˙

georgeclarkeey still can't believe you snatched him from right under my nose ↳ y/nsworld we're still in the honeymoon phase so i may give him back x ↳ arthurtv what the fuck

gkbarry crying into a pint of ice cream thanks xx ↳ y/nsworld you know you're the love of my life xx

y/nsworld also user2 sorry for gaslighting you xx ↳ user2 i have never been so happy to be gaslighted could do a happy lil cry ↳ y/nsworld our fave y/ntv'er we love you ♡