#HE RARELY SEES HIS BOY AND IT HURTS HIM!!!

[goldfades]

im afraid i need more mamas boy hayes

i kinda went off the prompt but there's a little mama's boy hayes somewhere in there LMAO. also this is when hayes is a little older (i'm thinking 7-8 years old)

You had always been skeptical about Hayes playing football.

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in him—you did, wholeheartedly. He had Joe’s talent, his love for the game, his competitive edge. But he was still just a kid, and no matter how many times Joe assured you that injuries were just part of the sport, that he’d be fine, that he’d be careful—you never stopped worrying.

And today? Today proved why.

The game had been intense from the start—two undefeated teams, the stakes higher than ever. Hayes had been playing great, making sharp plays, throwing with precision, running the field like he was born for it.

But then it happened.

It was one play, one moment, one second that changed everything.

Hayes had the ball. He was running, weaving through defenders, moving with that same effortless agility that Joe had when he played. You could hear the crowd cheering, your heart pounding, your fingers clutching the fabric of your jeans as you sat on the edge of your seat.

And then—a collision.

Hard. Fast. Loud.

Your stomach plummeted as Hayes was taken down, his body crashing into the turf with a force that made your breath catch in your throat.

Then, silence.

Not from the crowd—the crowd was roaring. But from Hayes.

He wasn’t getting up.

Your heart stopped.

Joe was already on his feet beside you, his entire body tensed, his eyes locked on the field with the kind of fear you rarely ever saw in him.

"Come on, buddy," Joe muttered under his breath. "Get up. Get up."

But Hayes didn’t move.

And that’s when you felt it—pure, unfiltered panic.

You shot out of your seat so fast your legs nearly gave out beneath you, your hands gripping the railing in front of you. The medical staff was already running onto the field, coaches kneeling beside Hayes, and you swore your vision blurred as you tried to see if he was okay.

"He’s fine," Joe said beside you, but his voice was tight, like he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince you. His hand gripped your arm, steadying you, but you could feel the tension radiating off him.

He was scared too.

Your breath felt shaky, your heart hammering in your chest. You weren’t even aware of the fact that you were gripping Joe’s sleeve until he pulled you closer, his other arm wrapping around you.

Joe didn’t even think.

One second, he was gripping the edge of his seat, heart hammering in his chest, and the next, he was on his feet, storming down the bleachers before anyone could stop him.

You barely had time to register what was happening before you were chasing after him, weaving through the crowd as he marched straight past security, past the coaches, past anyone who might have told him to stay put.

His only focus? Hayes.

And you could see it—the fear in him.

Joe was always calm, always composed, but this? This was different. He looked sick, his jaw clenched so tight it could’ve cracked, his fists balled at his sides.

By the time you caught up to him, he was already dropping to his knees beside Hayes, voice low and urgent.

"Hey, buddy. Hey, I’m right here." His hands hovered, unsure where to touch first. "Talk to me, okay?"

Hayes winced, shifting slightly as the trainer kept a firm grip on his shoulder.

"My arm hurts," he muttered, voice small.

Joe swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His eyes darted from Hayes' face to the trainer, as if begging for an answer.

"He took a hard hit," the trainer said, voice calm but firm. "We’re checking for a dislocation or fracture, but nothing looks broken right now."

Joe nodded once, but his face was still pale.

And you? You couldn’t take it anymore.

You dropped down beside them, brushing Hayes’ hair back from his forehead, your hands shaking slightly.

"You scared us," you murmured.

Hayes’ lower lip jutted out, his little brow furrowing. "Sorry, Mom."

Joe exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand down his face. His other hand finally settled on Hayes' good shoulder, gripping gently, but firmly.

"We’re done for today," Joe said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"But—"

Joe cut him a look, and that was it. End of discussion.

"We’re getting you checked out," he continued. "I don’t care if it’s just a bruise, I want a full scan. No debates."

Hayes sighed but nodded, letting the trainers help him sit up fully.

And that’s when Joe finally looked at you.

Like really looked at you.

And you saw it then—the sheer panic he’d been trying to bury.

His blue eyes were still blown wide, his breathing still shallow. He looked like he wanted to throw up, or punch something, or both.

So you reached for him, squeezing his wrist, grounding him.

"He’s okay," you whispered.

Joe let out another sharp breath and nodded.

And then, without another word, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Hayes' hair, lingering for just a second longer than usual.

And you knew.

Knew that no matter how much Joe loved this sport, no matter how much he wanted Hayes to love it too—

This?

This right here?

Was his worst nightmare.

—

The room was too quiet.

The kind of quiet that felt wrong, like the air had been sucked out completely. The kind of quiet that made your chest tight, your throat dry.

Hayes sat on the exam table, his small fingers curled into fists at his sides. His football jersey was wrinkled, his cheeks still red from exertion, but his expression was eerily blank. Too blank.

You knew that look. He was trying to be tough.

Joe stood beside him, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw locked. His knee bounced—a dead giveaway of the nerves he wasn’t voicing.

And you? You were perched right next to Hayes, one hand settled on his knee, rubbing slow, absentminded circles. It was instinct, really—the need to comfort him, to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

The trainer took a deep breath before speaking, eyes flickering between all three of you like he was trying to soften the blow.

But nothing could soften it.

"It’s a fractured clavicle."

Joe exhaled sharply through his nose. You felt Hayes stiffen beneath your touch.

"How bad?" Joe’s voice was tight, his usual composure barely hanging on.

"It’s a clean break, but it’s still a fracture. That means no football for at least three to four months."

Silence.

You swore you could hear Joe’s teeth grinding.

Hayes swallowed, the first sign of movement from him in minutes.

The trainer continued carefully. "Realistically, he’s out for the season."

Joe’s breath came out in a low, sharp exhale. He dragged a hand down his face, eyes closing for a second like he needed to reset.

You watched Hayes closely, your heart aching.

He still wasn’t saying anything.

But you could see the way his bottom lip trembled, how his eyes flickered to the ground, how his little fists clenched even tighter in his lap.

He was trying so hard to be tough, to take it like a real football player, like his dad would.

But he wasn’t Joe. Not yet.

He was still your baby.

Joe must’ve realized it too, because instead of arguing or pressing for other options, he simply nodded. "Alright. We’ll do whatever he needs."

The trainer nodded back, relief flashing in his expression. "We’ll get him set up with a sling and schedule follow-ups. He’ll heal up, I promise."

Hayes only nodded, but the way his little jaw tensed, the way he refused to look up—it told you everything.

Your heart cracked right down the middle.

Joe knew it too.

Which is why, instead of speaking, he just placed a hand on Hayes’ shoulder—the good one.

But Hayes barely reacted.

That’s when Joe finally met your eyes.

And in that moment, you both knew.

Right now, Hayes didn’t need Joe.

He needed you.

So without hesitation, you scooted closer, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in without waiting for him to ask.

And the second he was against you, he broke.

His small fingers curled into your hoodie, his face burying itself in your chest as a small, shaky breath escaped him.

Joe exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he watched, but he didn’t seem upset. If anything, he looked… grateful.

Because he knew.

No matter how much Hayes wanted to be like his dad—right now, he just needed his mom.

The ride home was quiet.

Hayes barely touched his phone, which was rare. Usually, he was either texting his friends about the game or watching highlights, but tonight, his eyes stayed locked on the window, watching the city lights blur past. His good arm rested in his lap, and the sling they’d given him looked too big, too awkward on his small frame.

Joe kept glancing at him in the rearview mirror, his fingers flexing over the steering wheel like he wanted to say something—anything—but didn’t know where to start.

So you reached over, threading your fingers through his, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

You’d handle this.

Once you got home, Hayes shuffled into the house without a word. He bypassed the living room, the TV, even the couch where he usually flopped down after a game.

Straight to his room.

Joe sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

"He’s shutting down," he muttered, more to himself than to you.

"He’s upset," you corrected gently. "Just… let me try."

Joe hesitated but nodded.

So you followed Hayes down the hall, knocking lightly before pushing his door open.

He was curled up on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the dim glow of his lamp casting soft shadows across the room. He didn’t look at you when you walked in, but his brows furrowed when you sat on the edge of the bed.

"You need to eat," you said softly.

"Not hungry."

You sighed, shifting closer until you could run your fingers through his hair, something you’d been doing since he was little.

"You know I’m not letting you go to sleep without eating something," you murmured.

Hayes let out a small, defeated sigh. "Fine."

"Good choice," you teased, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before heading toward the kitchen.

You made him a plate—nothing too heavy, just something simple—and brought it back to his room. He sat up enough to take it, murmuring a quiet, "Thanks, Mom," before picking at the food.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

When you stepped back into the kitchen, Joe was gone.

You frowned, checking the living room, then the backyard.

Nothing.

Then your phone buzzed.

Be back soon.

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched in amusement.

Joe had his own way of handling things.

—

Exactly 45 minutes later, the front door creaked open, followed by the sound of a paper bag crinkling.

You turned from where you sat on the couch, raising an eyebrow as Joe walked in with two large bags from a familiar ice cream shop—the one that was nearly an hour away.

"You’re insane," you said, crossing your arms as he set the bags down on the counter.

He just grinned, pulling out the pints one by one. "Tell me I’m wrong, though."

You sighed, shaking your head because—damn him—he wasn’t wrong.

You grabbed two spoons and followed him down the hall.

Hayes was still awake, lying on his side and scrolling through his phone.

"Hey, bud," Joe said, stepping inside. "Got you something."

Hayes barely glanced up—until Joe held up the ice cream.

The familiar packaging caught his attention instantly. His brows lifted in surprise, and for the first time all night, his expression softened.

"You drove all the way there?" he asked, his voice still a little hoarse from earlier.

Joe just shrugged like it was no big deal. "Figured it was a special occasion."

Hayes scoffed. "Getting hurt is a special occasion?"

"You being sad is," Joe said simply, handing him a spoon.

Hayes hesitated, then took it.

And just like that, the tension eased.

You settled in next to him, Joe took the chair beside the bed, and for the first time all night, Hayes actually smiled.

It wasn’t much.

But it was something.

[stoopidpigeonxx]

Hiiii can you do the crew and their kinks and some smut please!!

yuhyuhyuhyuh~ I can indeed!!

Curly

-listen. Deep down I think this man is a total freak. So he's got some strange ones. -Innocence/corruption kink. he is so turned on by taking a girl (or boy's) virginity. It makes him feel so... above everyone. He's a bit selfish sometimes. But also, because he really wants to take care of someone and give them a great first introduction to sex. He wants you to get so attached to him, that you'll never leave his side. He wants you all to himself. -Pussy worshipping. (I'm getting all of these from wikipedia btw.) More likely just worshiping in general, but definitely centered around your cunt. Like, he will spend hours licking at your clit and eating you out to get you readily prepared for him. Or, he won't even fuck you. Just solely focusing on your pleasure alone. (although.. will probably stroke himself while he goes down on you.) -Face fucking. Deep down, this man is a total sub for this. Like.. if you're a female, he'll let you ride his face 100 percent. If you're a dude, hey, why not. Use his mouth. He doesn't mind. (aslong as you don't make him deepthroat; he's not so good at that.) -Thigh riding/frottage. HUMP. THIS. MAN. he will gladly let you sit on his thigh while he works and let you go to town. He's so obsessed with feeling you lose yourself on him without needing his cock, fingers, or mouth, just purely using his body to get yourself off. Makes him feel like he's perfect for you. <3

Jimmy -okay.. so like... he's freaky. Outwardly freaky. -Bimbofication. Basically... he wants to fuck you stupid. Literally. He wants you dumb and ditzy, constantly thinking about him and his cock. God forbid you think about someone else; that mind of yours belongs to him and him only. -sadism/masochism. He likes to be hurt, and he likes to hurt. Bite him, scratch him, slap him, all that. He loves it. And he does the same thing to you; he is, in no means, vanilla. He will leave you marked up afterwards. He doesn't think sex is fun if it's not rough; he wants it to be exciting and hot, not lame and boring. -Orgasm denial/control. He loves controlling when and how you can get off. Will often ruin your orgasm just to watch you whine and squirm, begging to come. Believes you shouldn't be able to cum as an act of punishment. Mouthing off to him? You aren't allowed to get off today. -degradation. whoooo boy. He is saying the most vile, nasty shit to you during sex. Calling you a slut for taking it, telling you how pathetic you look sucking him off, all that wonderful stuff. Like I said, he's rough. It's rare to get praise or any sort of affection from him, unless you're doing something really good for him.

-Dacryphillia. likes seeing you cry. Maybe in pain, maybe in pleasure. It kinda ties in with his sadism thing a bit.. He likes the fact that he's making you feel so good you're sobbing in pleasure.

Daisuke (Cis daisuke.. sorry yall :-(

he's a young man. He's kinky as hell. (As a fellow 18 year old I get it.) -Praise. For him, and for you. He loves whispering sweet nothings and little bits of praise in your ear when you're taking him just as much as he loves getting praised. Seriously. If you call him a good boy he's willing to do ANYTHING you want. And I mean anything. Will go dog mode. -Pegging. Oh he LOOOOOVES getting the shit fucked out of him by a hot girl with a nice strap. He's afraid its weird since most girls want a man who's on top, but he wants to be dominated. He wants to be taken care of, and be absolutely wrecked at the same time. So fucking him with your strap is the perfect way to make him feel good. -Oral (both receiving and giving.) His favorite form of sex is definitely oral. Going down on someone makes him feel like he's doing something right and making his partner feel good. He likes to believe he's not too shabby; He's got a good tongue on him, exercised by his endless yapping. He loves receiving it too. Huuuuge fan of deepthroat. He will be perfectly satisfied with you sucking him off and won't want anything else. He's also super noisy; moans, grunts, whines, babbling and all of that good stuff. Your mouth is just so perfect and feels so good, he can't help it. -Cock slapping. He's a little bit of a pain junkie. I think he has a lot of piercings, so he's used to a bit of pain. If you're jerking him off and you slap at his dick, he loves it. Whines like a puppy. He also doesn't mind being slapped on the face, ass, chest.. he just likes slapping a bit. Not too hard, though! He can only handle so much! -Creampie. If you're a girl, you need to keep some plan b's around and get on birth control, because he's cumming inside of you almost constantly. He blames it on the fact that he doesn't like the feeling of condoms, but really he just likes watching his cum leak out of you. Makes him feel like he did a good job. Plus, it makes him feel way closer to you, since there isn't any boundary on him. He can feel everything, and he's addicted to the sensation of his cum shooting into you.

Anya

-mommy kink. hear me out.. hear me out y'all... Anya as a Dommy Mommy. I think she'd be all for it. And no, this doesn't have anything to do with her pregnancy and wanting to be a mother, she just likes it. Like, if y'all are fucking and she hears, the word 'mommy' slip past your lips, she leans into it and refers to herself as your Mommy the rest of the night. And will keep doing it. It gives her a sense of control and power that she normally doesn't get. -Tribbing/scissoring. I think she's a hardcore lesbian girl kisser. Sorry but like.. diva is wearing sandals and a striped shirt, with a wolfcut.. she likes WOMEN. So yeah, she likes bumping clits. Especially in a position where she's on top. I feel like she's a service Dom, kinda like Curly is. She's gonna dominate you but she'll be nice about it. Like, missionary with your legs around her so she gets good access. She's not a rough or fast rubber, she likes it slow and sensual. She wants to feel all of the sensations. -Romantic/passionate. She is a sucker for sweet love making. She wants rose petals, kisses, sweet tender treatment. And she wants to give that to you as well. She wants to take it slow and steady with you, figure out what the both of you like and need from eachother.

Swansea -what the fuck is a kink. IM SORRY. I really wanted to write what he would be into but I just... don't see him being that kinky... I'm sorry Swansea lovers i've failed you.

[ultravioletrayz]

WICKED WAYS (18+)

Pairing: soldier boy (ben) x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, degradation, a bit angsty i suppose, unprotected p in v, reverse cowgirl, regular riding, dom!ben, sub!reader, rough to soft(ish) sex, established relationship, slapping, some marking ig, cockwarming if you squint, soldier boy is a warning himself soooo

Summary: Ben realises that he needs to be gentler with you if he wants to keep you happy

A/N: first proper fanfic in a while, hope it was worth the wait!!

Word Count: 1.2k

When Ben had stalked over to you in the kitchen, wrapping his burly arms around your middle and absorbing the heat radiating off of your body, you had been pleasantly surprised. Soldier Boy is a harsh man. As vicious and vulgar as they come. With the way he was brought up, and the horrors he's endured, no one could blame him.

So, when this battle-scarred brute had gravitated towards you like a poor little pup, you couldn't help the warmth that bubbled in your chest. This was so unlike him.

"You okay?" You whisper, carefully chopping up the vegetables you're prepping for dinner. It's obvious the confusing state of your modern world is frustrating and exhausting for Ben to handle, so you're always conscious of the restricted distress brewing beneath his tough façade and rugged looks.

There's a constant need for him to be a vision of peak masculinity. No sharing feelings, no looking to his girl for comfort, no sitting around and wallowing in his pain. Even if he was upset, he'd try his damn best not to let your observant ass catch on.

"Why the fuck wouldn't I be? Thought you wanted me to start actin' all sappy n' shit." Ben grumbles, his trimmed beard scratching at your nape as he nips at your supple skin, diverting your empathetic qualms with a sloppy trail of fiery, throbbing little bites.

"Just tryna get in your fuckin' pants, woman." He adds, gentle hands becoming rougher and more demanding by the second as he grabs at your sleep shirt and tries to tug it up your hips.

You'd be lying if you denied the twinge of disappointment that settled in your gut. Ben has his rare moments of affection, so rare that you've come to wishfully crave them. This wasn't one of those mushy, blissful moments.

It was a different kind of blissful.

. • ☆ . °.•°:. *₊° .☆.

"Gotta go faster if you wanna get me off, pretty thing." Ben huffs condescendingly, grabbing a handful of your ass and slamming your hips all the way down on his lap, making your breath catch in your throat as a strangled whine trickles from your lips.

But it feels like all of your little, more or less distraught yelps are just echoing into the void, your eyes trying to focus on anything in the bedroom to keep yourself grounded. You make a feeble attempt at concentrating on making your ass grind down on the defined, pulsing vein decorating Ben's v-line, hands planted on his knees as you show off your arched back for his eager eyes, desperate to please him.

The minutes feel like they've turned to hours, which feel like they've turned to days, weeks, months. Your thighs are burning, your vision is fogged up as tears and sweat mingle on your cheeks. Your brows are knitted together in an agonising mix of hurt and pleasure. Your incessant, rhythmic bouncing stutters and slows as the loud, gooey squelching of your puffy cunt against the base of Ben's thick cock dwindles.

You can hear him tut behind you, rough palms quickly digging into the flesh of your hips as he holds you down on him, muscular legs flexing as he thrusts up into you.

"If I keep havin' to do all the work my damn self, might as well get a better bitch." Ben spits, delivering a swift slap to your plump cheek just to watch the flesh ripple for his own self-indulgent entertainment.

You try to grit your teeth and bear it, refusing to give Ben the satisfaction of seeing you break. You lean forward, arching your back and letting his cock prod deeper into your syrupy depths, whining as you remain perched and pretty atop him.

But it's all too much. Ben's grip on your aching flesh, the constant ramming of his swollen tip right against your cervix, the awful shit he's saying. It gets to you.

White-hot tears stream down your face as you stiffen, shoulders shuddering as you weep to yourself quietly. You think as long as Ben can't see your face, you can get this over with— have him cum inside, toss you off of him, and then you can have a well deserved nap.

Ben's not deaf, though. As soon as he hears those real, unsexy sniffles coming from his girl, his scrunched up, sweaty face drops.

"Fuck's sake." Ben scoffs, relaxing his grip and letting his hips lay flat on the bed. In a quick manoeuvre, he lifts you off of his cock, his past round of cum and your slick oozing down to his heavy balls as he flips you around and sits you on his cock again. You both groan as you sink back down to the hilt of him, spent walls fluttering and weeping around his girth as your hands find purchase on Ben's stomach.

His thumb rubs little apologetic circles against your stomach, while his other hand comes up to begrudgingly wipe your tears away.

"C'mon. Y'know I didn't mean that, alright? You're the only woman for me. So sexy, so fuckin' perfect. My girl." Ben sighs, green eyes staring up at your fucked-out, pouty face. Typically, a sight like this would get him going in a second, but seeing you so hurt and so vulnerable... it makes him feel queasy. No, guilty.

You can't help but lean into Ben's touch and nod in understanding, your body betraying your emotions once again. He may be rough around the edges, but you know he cares for you in his own way. A way he's shit at showing, but it's still embedded in his fortified heart.

"Let me make it up to you, baby. Show you some of that real lovin' you're busting my balls for, huh?" Ben chuckles, bucking his hips beneath you and making your body jolt, which earns him a quick smack on his bicep. His jaw clenches in response, his teeth grinding as he fights against the emotions swirling within him. He's never been good with expressing his feelings, but he knows he can't lose you over something like this. Not when you've shown him a side of himself he never knew existed.

"You're such an asshole." You laugh, leaning down to press a soft kiss on Ben's lips. An unusually gentle smile forms on his face as he looks up at you, and he immediately pulls you back down to kiss you deeper, passion fusing your tongues in an intimate, searing embrace as you rock your hips slowly.

Gripping your hips firmly, Ben starts to move again, this time slower and with more control. His thrusts are still hard and demanding, but they're also filled with a newfound appreciation for the woman above him. Your clit drags against Ben's pelvis, making you whine into the kiss as you cup his chiseled cheeks in your hands, while the head of his cock pecks that gummy spot in your core that has goosebumps pricking along your velvety skin.

Ben likes a rough fuck, he really does. But something about this moment makes him think about all the tenderness you two will share within the many years he plans on spending by your side.

The poor old sap can't wait.

the original thirst here

[doppel-doodles]

That illustration is making me want to slam my head against solid concrete, Art block said no, and I know when to pick my battles so fuck it we ball-

A normal post about Matthew Hallard from Poppy Playtime

I briefly mentioned this in the Jack post, the fact that I didn't think I had anything new or particularly interesting to say on Matthew as I always thought the Fandom had a lot of the bases covered.

But the more I actually thought about him, the more I wanted to talk about one thing in particular:

Let's talk about Doeys tape.

In game we find a vhs tape recorded by Doey, talking about how he almost ditched everyone in favor of running away, ultimately deciding to go back for them instead. It reveals a lot about how he truly feels about the responsibility that has been given to him.

I think it was so important to include this and the reason why is quite simple:

It humanises Matthew for me.

Why I point him out specifically is due to reasons I mentioned in my other analysis, Jack's control is mostly passive, Kevin only really comes to the forefront when he feels like there is a threat to assess or deal with and it has been confirmed that Matthew is the oldest of the children as well as having been a leader of sorts since he was still a human child, so in the tape it's basically him venting.

Which is great as it makes something crystal clear: He is not a perfect saint.

Matthew is a teenager who has been parentified from an incredibly young age, places immense pressure on himself, is suffering from more burnout than a college kid and not to mention the horror that is his current existence and life-

He doesn't WANT this responsibility, he only takes it on because nobody else will or can.

And nobody even thinks to ask him ONCE how HE is doing, no,no it's him who has to do that, he is not allowed to have breaks.

For godness sake he literally tells us in the tape that he is recording it because he feels like he can't talk to anyone about his problems!

The toys- The children having someone like Doey or more accurately Matthew is not a guarantee, it is a privilege but it's a privilege Matthew needs to!

And you rarely ever see kind characters COMPLAIN about having to be kind all the time, truly looking after everyone else drains you, it's exhausting to fulfill the needs of others, more often than not you'll have to put aside your own and when you really pull the shit end of the stick you get more complains then appreciation for your troubles.

It is such a CHORE and I think a character struggling with being so selfless actually can have such a massive impact instead of just being able to handle everything, it's that tiny bit of realism I love.

Despite how exhausted and miserable Matthew was over being stuck in this position in the end he turned back. Because he loves his friends that much, and he should get massive props for that.

And to think he still did so much but didn't think anything he did was good enough is just painful, like no honey you are enough, more than enough-

Also Poppy having once been the leader makes you think that maybe Matthew might have been hurt the most by her disappearing.

Like her leading was the closest thing to a break he ever got- and then she just up and disappears?? And it's all up to him now? Not to mention the concern? The worry??

Boy it speaks volumes that he doesn't seem to display more hostility towards her considering Poppy doesn't even EXPLAIN herself on why she left or why she couldn't come back.

He is even civil in discussing the fact that she demands for them to be okay with being blown up(also correct me if I'm wrong but didn't Poppy also include in her plan that SHE will get to live? If I heard that I would be flabbergasted.) But that's something I should discuss in another post.

For now that is everything I have about my boy, if you want to see what I have to say about other characters here is Kevin annnnnnd Jack, plus some extra stuff on Doey

[lumieresdreams]

saw @winterchestnut do this on my feed and i wanted in on it!

Zayne

Takes his time to get to know each and every LIs before landing on me. Probably not his first choice, but finds himself warming up to me overtime until he ends up having me have the highest affection lvl

Once he finds his favorite, he focuses on me and likes to grind for diamonds and dailies with me

Since he's busy doing his job as a doctor, he'll probably only be able to properly play the game once he's back home, using Secret Times or Moments with You as a way to wind down for the night

If he misses a day, he feels slightly guilty and would check in on me the next time he's not busy, saying sorry and telling me about his day

Probably has a habit of having dinner with me using Quality time

Ends up having almost every single card I have out unintentionally while doing his best to be f2p

Caleb

Played the game because of my trailers, loyal asf since day one of release

Likes the main story quest and event quests with me in it

A dedicated fighter, he mostly enjoys grinding my Orbit with me, waiting patiently for my day on it to come and grinds for lvl up mats in the meantime

If he's bored, he'll go back into the past Orbit levels to pass the time, LOVES hearing my battle voicelines but would rather hear me being victorious than getting hurt. But still also likes it when I step in and protect him from attacks

Probably has most if not all of my 5*s maxed, he is NOT f2p

Annoys the hell out of me on the homescreen and puts me in the silliest outfits ever

Sylus

Didn't take long to find me as his favorite, feisty and sassy that I am. This guy LOVES the challenge of me giving him attitude here and there

Also really likes annoying me on the homescreen, but likes to dress me up real nice. He's paid for ALL of my outfits and accessories, no questions asked

He'll only rarely give me the free will to change my clothes myself cause I'll probably end up choosing the simplest and comfiest option

Likes event stories with me in it, he's itching for more outside of the main story. He so desperately wants to crack me open and read me like an open book, break down my fighter persona and finally make me mush in his hands

Probably has all of my 5*s maxed, no questions asked

Xavier

Not the most active player, but plays the game every other event that catches his attention + has an interesting premise with me included in it

LOVES Secret Times, uses it for company and basically uses my singing audio as his own personal lullaby for sleep

When he has a lot of time in his hands, he'd go through the main story that has me included in it, reluctantly. This man is weak against angst and boy do I probably have a lot of that in my part LMAO

If there's a second ending to any of my cards and he unexpectedly gets a bad ending, he will SOB and apologize and quickly goes back to get the happy ending to comfort himself

Rafayel

I'm not his first choice, but he likes me as a secondary ngl

We're too much alike, sees me as a friend with benefits whom he likes to share tea with. Enjoys my sassy personality that matches his and doesn't hesitate to sass back when the chance comes up

Slow burn type stuff with him, the more he finds out about my angsty story, the stronger he feels for me. Would most likely be frustrated with me for a while before coming back and comforting me on the homescreen

Besides having to deal with my angsty antics, he likes to get back at me by dragging me into the Photobooth and taking hundreds of pictures, half of which are us being fashionistas while the other half is nothing but silly pictures

His favorite expression from me would be me pouting or being a little angry at him, makes me turn away from him half the time I'm on the homescreen because of how doting/nosy he sometimes tend to be

aaaaand that's it! this is purely based on myself so it's probably gonna be different for everyone else heh. this is such a fun writing exercise too!

[reignpage]

dear reign,

this is my second time trying to write this because the first one got deleted??

but let my start by saying, thank you for making a part two, you didn’t have to after…certain things…but i will take it and savior it regardless. now this will be a long one and you don’t have to respond at all i just want to give you my thoughts on it. also last time you just stabbed me this time you twisted the knife, thank you 🙏🏼

satoru’s didn’t really make me sad but more angry because he’s so unserious about it “oh yikes that’s exactly what your mother says when she’s mad at me” yeah no shit i wonder why and just being nonchalant about the issue, oooh i’d punch him in the face omg.

suguru’s made me both sad and angry, because the reader is absolutely correct. i can kind of relate to “do i have to suffer trauma to deserve some time and attention from you?” in a sense. growing up i would notice my dad favored my brother and sister for certain things so my thoughts were always “would he love me more if i was a boy?” and “would if i did the things he liked to do like play baseball, would he love me then?” so i understand wanting to change something about yourself in order to feel loved. and the “why do i get a consolation prize?” ohh man the why i had to take a moment, because why do they get it all automatically but i have to be compromised with and given something as an afterthought? especially since it seems like it was an inconvenience for him because the compromise only came about after he talked with her mother. it’s like he didn’t care for it at all.

choso pissed me off because he’s not understanding the problem at all and he’s only focusing on one aspect of it. “didn’t you say you wanted to go with me?” yes but i’m not going to beg you for attention. i’m not going to diminish myself like that when you should already be giving it to me. much like reader says “i’d much rather go with someone who wants to be there, with me” good she’s standing up for herself. “but i do want to go with you…. we just have to take your brother.” like omg no no we do not. our mother is perfectly capable of taking care of him for ONE DAY that’s all reader is asking for is one day and choso can’t even give her that and she’s right why does she have to explain it to him? he’s a grown man like come on now. “i just wanted all of us to have fun together.” okay and we can do that some other time, what if i just wanted to have fun with my dad? ever think about that?

toji’s hurt i’m going to be so honest. she literally starts by saying that even if he showed at the last minute she’d be happy with that and i can relate to that. my dad would rarely ever show up to my events but he’d make an effort to go to my brother’s. even just a smidge of attention from him or five minutes of him being at one of my games would suffice for me growing up, i’d always look for him in the crowd and never see him. the only games i remember him going to were my soccer games, when my brother was on the same team. and “i was gonna go…but i fell asleep” honestly at this point just say you don’t love me because that’s how it feels. “i’ll go to the next one for sure.” no you won’t, don’t lie to either of us. i’m glad she’s not inviting him to any thing any more, save herself the disappointment.

i can’t relate to nanami’s or sukuna’s this time around but i do have things to say about them.

nanami pissed me off so bad because it’s clearly late and she’s not home and he starts off with being strict about it rather than concerned. she tells him that he’s nothing to her and his only response is “when i pick you up, we’re going to have a good long talk about your attitude.” like that’s really all you care about? you don’t even care about me just my attitude? okay got it. “just forget i even exist cause that’s my plan” this is so mildly concerning, like is she talking about dying? i don’t want to jump to conclusions but if her plan is to not exist then yeah we can assume what’s implied (i really hope that’s not the case and i’m just being delusional) but it’s concerning and he’s just “i’m finding no humour in this.” that’s because there isn’t any c’mon nanami get it together you’re a smart guy. “i understand you’re upset with me but you should be upset with me within the safe confines of our home” oh so you do care a little aw that’s kind of sweet. “you’re worrying you mother and if you will not come home on your own, i will find you” and we’re back to where we started. i’m worrying mom, okay but what about you? DO YOU CARE WHAT HAPPENS TO ME? “if anything were to happen to my little girl, i’d never forgive myself, so please just come home and we can talk.” why is it that you only start to care and beg after i’ve stopped responding to you? after i’ve made it clear i’m not coming back? why’d it take you so long to get your head out of your ass?

sukuna’s omg her mother is DEAD???? did not pick up that plot line from the first part but it makes so much sense why she’d want to eat with him and spend time with him. she wants to honor her mother and she wants to do it with her dad but he’s picking her brothers over her omg that actually hurt but in the empathetic sense because i can’t actually relate but i could only imagine wanting to be with the only parent you have left and they just push you aside like you mean nothing. that poor girl, i just want to wrap her in a blanket and console her and beat the shit out of sukuna. i’m definitely not winning and if fact getting my ass beat but i’ll try for that sweet girl. AND REIGN DON’T THINK I DIDN’T NOTICE… “but it’s far too late now, my Lord” the implications of this sentence. she’s implying it’s too late to honor her mom the way she wanted AND she’s implying that it’s too late for him to change. she’s not calling him father anymore, she doesn’t see him that way anyway. it’s “my Lord” now because that’s his title, ooohh reign the way your brain works i love it so so much. big smooch for your brain 💋🧠

have the most wonderful spectacular day ever (hope your travels were safe and the train ride treated you good) much love 💜

I LOVEEEEEEEEEEEE WHEN PEOPLE GIVE DETAILS ABOUT YHEIR THOIGHTS SHDHSGDHKAHSHD YUMMY

Thank you sooooooo much, you picked up on things I’ve been waiting for someone to pick up on you’re so grrrrrrr lemme eat you nyomnyomnyom delicioso 😚

AND YES ITS FAR TOO LATE NOW MY LORD😩😩😩

[naquey]

James Diamond Analysis

Because I did a Drake Parker analysis forever ago, and said I would do a James Diamond one once I rewatched BTR. I think that was like in july??? idk.

Ah, James Diamond, yet again another character who cares a lot about his appearance and chases girls throughout the canon show- Wait. Are we sure I'm not talking about Drake Parker instead??? I'm kidding, that's mean. I'm sorry. (No I'm not)

BTR establishes him as the one who wants to see his name up in lights, the one who wants to pursue a music career. He's the reason why Kendall gets chosen by Gustavo in the first episode. But to be honest, the show never delved deeper past the outer most level of his character.

James is the pretty boy who always carries around a hand mirror, has a lucky comb, and spends far too much time applying Barracuda Man spray to make himself smell nice for the ladies.

But underneath that, just who is he?

First, we gotta look at where he comes from. Duluth, Minnesota, but I mean his family life. His mother owns a beauty product company and his father... well we don't know who his father is. (Correct me if I'm wrong.) But we do know that he is a child of divorce. Like I said with Drake, divorce is hard on the child. But also James is an only child.

Maybe I'm just projecting or I'm letting BTR fanon get to me, but as much as Brooke loves her son, I don't think she takes him seriously. He wants to be a singer, he wants to be famous. Not many of the adults in his life take him seriously, I mean we don't see their school teachers outside of Miss Collins at the PalmWoods so I can only assume his teachers back at Duluth didn't take him that seriously either.

He's not established as the comedic relief, but it's still treated as a funny joke when James mentions anything about singing or fame. Like it's laughable that he wants something so bad. The only people that do take him seriously are his friends. I mean, Kendall made Gustavo make them a boyband for James because it was James' dream. He saw his friend get crushed by Gustavo and had to do something about it.

Which leads me to believe that James is essentially in Kendall's shadow. The friend who wants nothing to do with singing and music, is deemed the more talented one. Anyone else would be upset and hurt, and James is for a little while, but it doesn't effect their friendship. He may chase after girls, but his friends mean the world to him.

Maybe I'm projecting, but I think his friends matter so much to him because he grew up alone. Brooke is a business woman, and I don't doubt that she rarely looked after him. She loves him but it only comes off as Brooke loving him once he's gone. I could be wrong, and very mean, but it's my opinion. Take it with a grain of salt. I also understand that no parent wants to be away from their child, especially not across the country, but I digress.

To me, it seems like James would do anything to keep his friends by his side. Especially give up his dream. After Hawke gave him everything he could ever want, something was missing. James knew he couldn't do it without his bros. Their friendship is crucial to him, without them he has no one who truly understands him the way his friends do. He's not vain, or mean, or petty. He's a teenager who will do dumb stuff over the course of the show because he wants something that he can't truly have, so badly.

And honestly, I can understand that. Life didn't go the way he planned. His dreams were crushed on that audition stage but then his friend comes to save the day because they were there for him. Okay, sorry this is weirdly becoming a friendship analysis. Hold on.

James isn't taken seriously, outside of his friend group. Not by Gustavo, not by his mother, not even by Hawke. He was singled out because Hawke knew he could use James' dream against him. To everyone else around him he's just a loveable dork who won't be able to truly achieve his dreams. He's not given any merit, or the chance to prove himself. Yes, that's what I was trying to get to.

James was set up for failure before he even started. Not because his friends are the only ones who truly care, but because the adults dismiss him. It's a fleeting pipe dream. Gustavo literally said to him on that stage that James has no talent, that has to be a blow to his confidence. And maybe the reason why his character changes in seasons 3 and 4 is because he doesn't have that confidence anymore. He lost it because people no longer considered him an individual outside of the group.

(Are we 100% sure I'm not talking about Drake Parker? Okay, okay. I'll stop. I'll stop.) I've said my piece, food for thought I suppose.

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

I just wanna talk to the people that make Takaaki a bad father. I just wanna talk.

[vienamoi]

so i just showed my (very very critical) roommate the first episode of iwtv &* as it ended , he just quietly hit the double thumbs up on netflix , closed the app , sat in silence for a long moment , then he is ----- &* i'm not fucking exaggerating ------ close to tears as he looks at me , completely vacant like he just saw god. " i feel like i was seduced. there's an afterglow. i need to go lie down. i need to digest. "

i think ,,,,, i think lestat got him boys. he looked like that blonde motherfucker punched him through the skull.

UPDATE ONE : GUYS HE'S IN THE BATHTUB RN LISTENING TO CLASSICAL MUSIC. i wish i could make this shit up but i am not this creative i might cry

UPDATE TWO : he texted me --- " i haven't been moved by television like this before. i need time. we will watch another episode this week. "

[twpsyn-who]

Stiles Stilinski is my favorite/comfort character, which means that I have a deeply desire to ship him with everyone, wish pain and suffering upon himself and an unresolved need to read 'Dead Stiles Stilinski' fics.

I need more angst in my life. I need him to suffer

[miihho]

Can you please write the salesman next for the kind of guy?🙏🏻🙏🏻

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition boys) nsfw

The Salesman

— HES THE KIND OF GUY who never expected to fall in love—his life was far too consumed by duties and endless responsibilities. Love wasn’t even a consideration, not until you appeared like a sudden burst of color in his monochrome world. At first, it was your skill that caught his attention, the way you effortlessly bested him in ddakji, round after round, slap after slap. Frustrated but undeniably impressed, he handed you a card, feigning indifference. But as you walked away, something unfamiliar stirred within him—a quiet ache, a sense of loss he couldn’t quite place.

He tried to push it aside, burying himself in his work, recruiting others, and maintaining the facade of control. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. Then, one day, he saw you again, sitting at your usual spot. You hadn’t joined the game, and strangely, he felt a wave of relief he couldn’t explain. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of you, asking for just one more match. The words came out almost on their own, a fragile excuse to see you again, to hear your voice, or maybe just to keep you close for a little longer.

— He’s the kind of guy who’s spent years trapped in a monotonous cycle—lonely, unfulfilled, and carrying the weight of a life that feels directionless. Every day bleeds into the next, nothing to look forward to, nothing to hold onto. But then, somehow, he acquires you. You, with your rare kindness, your quiet care, and the sweetness that seems to radiate from your every action.

You don’t even realize what you’ve done to him, how you’ve unknowingly become the one bright spot in his otherwise dull world. He starts catching himself stealing glances at you, his gaze softening without his permission. It’s the way you move, the way you speak, the way you bring life into spaces that once felt empty.

And then there are those moments—when you laugh, or when you smile at something simple—that makes his chest tighten in ways he didn’t think were possible anymore. He smiles back without realizing it, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way that feels foreign but good. You don’t just make his days better; you make him feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still something worth living for. (He's in love)

—He’s the kind of guy who would boldly approach you, his intentions clear but unspoken. He’d ask to get to know you better, his flirting subtle at first—smiles that linger a little too long, looks that make your heart race without explanation. At first, you might be taken aback, unsure of his advances, but when he offers you something you can’t refuse, like money, your resistance crumbles. You agreed, but something in the way he looks at you makes you forget about the deal. Slowly, you start enjoying your time together more than you care to admit.

—He’s also the kind of guy who wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, not for a second. If anyone dared to claim you as theirs, especially some trash asking you out, he’d make sure they paid. He’d go to any lengths to protect what’s his, with no hesitation, no mercy. If it came to it, he wouldn’t think twice about making them disappear, just so they’d know—he was the first one, and that meant something.

But it’s not just about possessiveness. He watches over you, guards you in ways you’ll never fully see, keeping a close eye without you ever knowing. He’s always there, even when you don’t realize it—protecting you from this world that’s full of danger, keeping the darkness at bay as best as he can. It’s his silent promise to you, even if you never ask for it. He doesn’t want to see you hurt, not ever.

— He's the kind of guy who would soil his hands with blood, not hesitating for a second, if it meant protecting you from anything that threatens your peace.

— He’s the kind of guy who will make you fall for him as deeply as he’s fallen for you. He adores your smaller build against his, the way your petite hands fit perfectly when cuffed by his larger ones—it drives him wild. The contrast, the way you seem so delicate in his grasp, makes him want to claim you entirely, to make you his in every way.

But he’s not the kind of man to stop at mere affection. No, he’s the type who thrives on control. He’ll manipulate you carefully, subtly, until the thought of leaving him feels impossible—terrifying even. He wants you to need him, crave him, think of him endlessly. He’s meticulous in the way he weaves himself into your thoughts, ensuring you wake up and fall asleep with only him in mind.

And when he flirts with you, watching as your cheeks turn that irresistible shade of red, your voice faltering under his gaze—it’s everything to him. You turn into a hot, blushing mess, and he loves it. It fuels his obsession, makes him fall even harder for you, because to him, you’re the epitome of perfection. Cute, vulnerable, and entirely his.

—He’s the kind of guy who takes his time with you, the tension between you building like a carefully orchestrated symphony. When the moment feels just right—your faces close, the air thick with anticipation—he starts leaning in, his eyes locked on yours, ready to steal a kiss.

But then it hits you, the realization of what’s happening, and your face flushes a deep red. You turn away in a rush, looking anywhere but at him, your heart racing like crazy. He pauses, letting the moment linger, before chuckling softly. That low, amused laugh of his sends a shiver down your spine, and when you finally sneak a glance at him, he’s grinning.

“Cute,” he murmurs, his tone playful but laced with something deeper. Yeah, he loves teasing you—loves watching you squirm and stutter, loves the way your reactions only make you more endearing to him. And he’ll do it all over again, just to see that flustered look on your face that he can’t get enough of.

—He’s also the kind of guy who knows exactly how to manipulate you, slow and calculated, planting seeds of dependence and trust without you fully realizing it. He knows your vulnerabilities, your habits, and where to find you when you’re at your lowest.

So, when he spots you crying at your usual secluded spot, alone and trembling, he makes his move. Sitting beside you, his presence feels warm, comforting—like he’s the only safe harbor in a storm. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, his voice soft and soothing as he whispers, “There, there, it’ll be alright. I’m here.”

As you cry into his chest, he murmurs gentle reassurances, “It’s alright, baby. Cry it all out.” His hand strokes your back, his touch deliberate and grounding, and he smiles. Not the kind of smile you can see—this one is hidden, smug, satisfied. His plan is working perfectly, and you’re falling deeper into his web. And oh, how he loves it—watching you lean into him, needing him, trusting him like he’s your savior. That’s exactly where he wants you.

— He’s the kind of guy who thrives on control, especially in moments of intimacy. The kind who, with practiced ease, unclips your bra with just one hand, never breaking the intensity of your kiss. And when he pulls back, his lips hovering just above yours, he’ll smirk and whisper in that low, teasing voice, “I’m not done with you yet.”

When you bury your face into his neck, trying to stifle your moans out of shyness, he doesn’t miss a beat. The scent of his cologne and aftershave lingers, intoxicating you further, as he lets out a deep chuckle, amused at your attempt to hide.

And when he’s got you pinned beneath him, completely at his mercy, he makes sure you’re not holding back. He loves to hear you scream, loves the way his name falls from your lips like a prayer. Even when a phone call interrupts, he doesn’t stop. Oh no, he sees it as a challenge, a chance to tease you further. He’ll move slower, deeper, just to hear your breath hitch as you struggle to keep your composure.

If you try to stay professional, biting your lip to muffle the sounds threatening to escape, he’ll smirk, his pace relentless. “Go on,” he’ll purr, his voice dripping with mischief. “Try to keep quiet, baby. Let’s see how long you last.” And with that, he’ll have you unraveling, barely able to focus, completely at his mercy.

— He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t just tease you with words—he lets his actions speak louder. Even in public, fully clothed, he’ll find a way to make you lose your composure. He steps in close, his large hands resting on your waist, pulling you just enough that his hips press against yours.

That’s when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness straining against his pants, pressing firmly into you. His voice drops, low and dripping with desire, as he leans into your ear and whispers, “Feel that, baby? That’s what you do to me. You’ve got me all worked up, and I don't think I can wait any much longer."

The heat of his breath against your ear sends a shiver through you, and his bulge pressing into you makes it impossible to think straight. His grip tightens slightly, and the smirk playing on his lips tells you he’s enjoying every second of your reaction. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he loves driving you wild, even when you’re supposed to be keeping things composed.

— He's the kind of guy who leaves his mark on you, a silent declaration that you're his and his alone

— He's the kind of guy who would pin you against the wall, bite your lip, and pull your hair—taking control in a way that leaves you breathles.

—He’s the kind of guy who’ll leave you completely undone, your body trembling as you take every inch of his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks while you beg for mercy. But he doesn’t stop—he thrives on the way you break beneath him, his voice dripping with a wicked mix of praise and degradation.

“You're being such an obedient little cum slut,” his hand tilting your chin so you have no choice but to meet his gaze. “Taking me so well like a fucking whore, like you were made for my cock. My perfect little bitch.” he said, his tone low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine as he continued to fuck his cock in and out of you. Your walls clenching hard around his massive cock as he fills you up with his fat load, still pounding into your hole not letting even a single drop of his release go to waste. (He has a breeding kink)

And if that's not enough. His thick, veiny cock would plunge relentlessly into your dripping folds, the sound of wet flesh slapping against wet flesh filling the air. Each powerful thrust drives him deeper, his heavy balls smacking against your ass as he ravages your insides with unbridled lust while you're in a mating press. He is determined to make you the mother of his child, so he will pound your fertile womb over and over again until it's full of his cum. If his cum is seeping out of your pussy, he would pump it back with his fingers inside while he also plays with your swollen clit making you overstimulated as you beg him to stop. (he just fucking loves you crying and begging for him and only him. )

— Hes the kind of guy who craves more than just conception; he yearns to enslave your senses, to make your body crave the feeling of being utterly filled by him. He wants ypu to beg for his cock, to plead for the intense pleasure-pain of being stuffed to overflowing, regardless of your reproductive cycle.

The very thought of you, round and ripe with his seed, brings him unparalleled satisfaction. He delights in the idea of your addiction to his cum, to the exquisite bliss of having your cunt packed to capacity with his thick, hot essence. For him, there is no greater joy than knowing you're forever changed, forever his, your body and soul irreversibly marked by his possession.

[tonycries]

Golden Boy - G.S.

Synopsis. Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader 

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends/lovers to enemies to lovers, oral (fem receiving), facesítting, creampíe, slight Gojo x Reader, running away from it, Suguru is so SOOO in love still, unprotected, spítting, kinda angsty, hurt/comfort, mentions of bIood and kníves, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. I was listening to fantasmas while writing this so take that how you will LMAO.

The difficult part, surprisingly, wasn’t infiltrating Geto Suguru’s Time Vessel Association. No, a few faux tears, a decoy curse, and you were in - stepping through his grandiose hideout. The difficult part was convincing yourself that you were here to kill him. 

Something that utterly foolish little part of yourself still had trouble believing - even when you had a knife to his throat. 

“Any last words?” you spit, muffled through your mask, thankful for the way it covers up just how much your voice shakes. Maybe because of the way his lips curl into a familiar smile, maybe from his cool dagger pressing against the back of your neck.

Seconds away from a bloodbath. 

You don’t know if you’re breathing - or if he is either. Eyes locked on the way Sugur- your target only raises his hand up, up, up - getting ready to strike. To kill. Only you’d get him first and-

Snip!

You’re not dead. But you might as well have been, because your mask falls onto the tatami mat with a deafening clatter. 

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

It’s hard not to remember. 

“You don’t have any right to say that.” your knees tighten around where you had him straddled to the ground. Your hand pinning one of his down, blade digging deeper into Suguru’s pale neck - eyeing the slow, steady drop of blood that beads down it. “Didn’t think you’d remember me, either.”

With your mask now no longer on your face, you could traitorously take in that relaxed grin - as if your life wasn’t in his hands right now. As if he didn’t care. 

Suguru’s hair was much longer now, splayed out across the floor inkily. Circling around his broad shoulders, around the eyes that were just a bit harder than they were ten years ago. And yet, you catch the way they flicker briefly with something so raw as he whispers gently, “How could I ever forget my first love?”

So quiet that you could’ve blamed it on your imagination - and you wish you did. 

It’s so unfair. 

Unfair how you let out a gasp, despite yourself. Unfair how you were the best sword wielder that Jujutsu had to offer, yet your fingers tremble on your knife. Heart stuttering at the mere sight of the way his eyes crinkle with the beginnings of a smile. Pleading, like all he could see was you from what felt like a thousand lifetimes ago. 

Those golden years. Back when rare Susanoomon cards were what you’d fight over, and the only stains he’d wipe off were from the grassy grounds of Jujutsu High, still faint underneath the encrusted blood on that uniform nestled away deep in his wardrobe.

You manage to grit out, “Shut up. You left me- us.”

“I did.”

Like it was all he wanted to see. 

“You never loved me.”

“I do.”

Your voice is shrill at this point, words stumbling over each other. “You’ve massacred more people than you’ve saved.”

Suguru wastes no time denying - or in any niceties. Looking right into your absolutely crazed eyes as he answers, “I have.” And his answer rings so hollow and emotionless in your ears, cold-blooded. Absolutely nothing like the boy you remembered. The one that would laugh and steal you away to take you around campus on his bicycle, all because the next class was “too far”.

“I- fuck.” You place both hands on the hilt of your blade, distantly registering the way that Suguru lets his own drop onto the floor. “I should kill you- I should kill you right now.”

Just one flick of your wrist. Fast and simple. 

In and out - exactly like you’d been ordered to. 

“And to die by your hand would be a death that someone like me doesn’t deserve.”

You both jolt when your knife hits the ground - as if neither of you were expecting it. And before you can stop yourself, you’re fisting his thick robes, pulling Suguru’s face up closer to yours. Mere inches away. 

“Then- then I’ll-” you choke, a hand coming up to dig into the sides of his milky neck, leaving neat, red indents on his skin. “I’ll kill you with my own hands, Suguru.”

And he’s known you for years - would never admit it, but was by your side for only half as long as he’d watched over you. 

Saw - only from a distance -  those big fat tears you cried at graduation, the curve of your lips as you pulled a very reluctant Nanami into a hug outside his new office building. The steely look in your eyes meeting Satoru’s much softer one, telling him first how you’re going into teaching. And the smile on your face when you thought of who else might have, too. If he’d gotten the chance.

Always hidden.

Never so close to this frenzied glint in your gaze, a tiny sob threatening to escape your lips. Never like this - and yet, he never thinks you’ve looked so beautiful. 

But what would someone like him know about beauty, anyway?

You flinch as Suguru reaches a hand up to thumb away the furrow between your brows, catching on the single, stray tear sitting at your cheekbone. Whispering - so low that you involuntarily crane your head closer to hear - “Still such a crybaby.”

“And you’re still going to be the death of me.”

Soft - Suguru’s lips are as soft as you imagined. And it’s not exactly the tender, picture-perfectly romantic first kiss his teenage self dreamt up with you, but fuck if he wasn’t going to remember this like it was. 

Perfect. 

Pretty lips smothering yours, all slow and sensual. Drinking in those deliciously breathless gasps of yours as he sucks on your candied lips. 

You gasp, “Suguru.” and it comes out teary. Making you finally register the wetness rolling down your cheeks, glistening against the dim lighting. You tighten your grip around his neck, “This won’t fix-”

“I know.” Fuck, does he know better than anyone else. 

A hand slides up your forearm, the other cupping your face to pull you closer. He’s running his hot tongue along your cheek, pooling your salty tears on his lips. “But let me make you forget - if just for tonight. Please.”

The only answer Suguru gets is your fingers leaving his neck, dancing feather-light across his sculpted shoulders to slide under his robe. Feeling the smooth plane of his pecs underneath your palm, that traitorously thundering heartbeat he wishes he could slow down. “Kiss me.”

“Fuck.” he pants into your open mouth. The sight of your glossy, slightly puffy lips having him surge forward to reattach his with yours with a pained grunt. “God- jus’ a bit more, my love.”

Again. And again and again- like he was addicted. 

He’d always been, with you, anyway.

You let out a sinful sound of his name when Suguru kisses down your neck, lips slotting over your racing pulse. Throbbing and so real under his lips, remembering how he used to feel this song under his arms long before. 

“Oh- shit.” you moan, when his now rougher - larger - hands sneak underneath your crumpled shirt, deftly unbuttoning. Unbuckling. Impatient. “Sugu-”

A hoarse groan leaves him, only spurring him to all but rip the rest of your uniform off your body faster. 

And at the first sight of you clad in nothing but your panties, Suguru’s kiss-bitten lips are falling slack. Brows shooting up into the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead now, “Been missing out, hm?” He’s dipping a hand down to run the back of his index along your clothed, puffy folds. Up and down. “Really been-” Heart clenching when he remembers the way Satoru now looks at you with a familiar glint. One he knew all too well. “-missing out, my love.”

You’re only trailing your fingers along his cheek - his neck, grazing over that little mark from your blade. He groans - maybe from your touch, probably from the way you’re dragging your cunt across that massive bulge underneath you. “Please, Suguru. Wan’ you.” 

And if Geto Suguru has spent ten years denying himself, surely he could sacrifice it for the way he lifts your stuttering, sloppy hips up so easily. All the way up until they were hovering over his mouth, hot breath hitting your clothed cunt. 

“Wanna taste you.” he groans, spying on the way your slick beads through your panties. “Wan’ see if you’re as hah- sweet as I imagined. Please.”

And he’s obsessed with the way you’re sinking yourself down so gently, cock jumping at the thought of you afraid you’d suffocate him - as if you didn’t have your blade at his throat just minutes ago.

“Fuuuck, don’t worry, pretty.” he groans, soft darting to lick at the juices smeared across your inner thighs. “Some more now. Put it all on me, I can take it- fuck-”

Your syrupy sweet cunt has Geto losing whatever’s left of his fucking restraint, dark eyes rolling to the back of his head because you were so sweet. So pretty looking down at him with your glassy eyes. So addictive. He moans, chest heaving as he breathes in your essence. “What happened to that feist from earlier? Gonna hafta do a lil’ more than that now.”

“B-but-”

It’s at this moment you realize that at any given moment Suguru could’ve easily taken the upper hand. A hand of his pulls down your hesitant hips, swollen lips against your covered ones in such a filthy kiss. 

He hums into your folds, bunching your panties between them. “Mmm. Shit- jus’ like I imagined.” Hot tongue dipping just underneath the flimsy fabric to feel out your sloppy entrance, “Better, even. Jus’ look how well you’re taking me, pretty.”

But you don’t - too scared to find out that you’d like the sight more than you should. How you wished you could go back to the golden days where it didn’t matter - wasn’t a matter of life and death. And something else entirely. 

And this dilemma has Suguru’s brows furrowing, sharp canines lightly nipping at one of your swollen folds. Wanting to see how it’s him - despite everything, it’s still him making you feel this way. “None of that now.”

RIP!

With this you have to look down, a desperate whine leaving your stupid mouth at the fucking sinful sight down below. Your panties now a tattered excuse in between Suguru’s teeth, baring them with such a devilish grin right up at you. 

“See?” he spits out the fabric onto the floor beside him, half-lidded eyes peering up at you so sultry. Looking right at you as his tongue lolls out, spreading your bare, needy folds shamefully. “Isn’t this much better?”

“Hngh- fuck, yes-” you slide your fingers through his now-messy hair, falling out of that half-bun. Jolting on top with each push of his tongue past that feeble ring of resistance, the lewd squelches leaving you with each graze of the wet muscle against your walls. “Shit- Suguru it feels too good. So deep ngh-”

He swats a hand against your ass, making you sit your slutty hips down deeper, all the way till Suguru’s jaw was grinding so greedily against your cunt. Tongue bullying past your folds in and out in and out in and-

“God- hah-” he’s pulling away to gasp deep lungfuls of air - secondary, to the way he was back immediately to making out so hotly with your tight pussy. “Mmm fuck. This cute lil cunt is so needy. S’like you’re trynna suck my tongue off.” Thumb reaching up to draw slow, languid circles that have you throwing your head back. “So perfect.”

Your delirious mouth is dropping open, body moving before your mind as you strain to reach your hand behind. Trembling. Shaky when you manage to cup Suguru’s aching erection. 

“G-guess m’not the only one ah- needy, hm?” you smirk, having him bucking and spitting out harsh little profanities with each rub of your palm down his drenched length. 

Suguru doesn’t give you a response - because his fingers are speaking on his behalf. Dipping into your sloppy hole, locating your g-spot, as if on instinct. He’s milking your pretty cunt while he roams for those sweet spots. Lips muffling around your throbbing clit, “You’re always right, my love. You always were.”

And his words are so gentle - mouth so sloppy. Squelches so obscene. 

Nose pressing up at the top of your abdomen, cheeks hollowing wetly around the sensitive nub. Letting your juices drip all the way down his chin, his jaw, dangerously close to that cut on his neck. 

The hand sliding back and forth across the swollen outline of his cock had Suguru get more frenzied. Faster. Like it was his personal mission to make you cum on his tongue before he fucking passed out. 

Penetrating your gummy hole with both his fingers and his tongue, spreading it open more. And it’s all you can do to keen, “Oh- oh my god.” Riding Suguru’s pretty face harder. “Shit- m’close, Suguru.”

“Always right.” he gasps, swiping his tongue faster across your clit. “Always perfect” Alternating between squeezing back into your hole, your sweet spots. Stretching out your gummy walls as far as they’d go. “Always made f’me.” Assaulting it with both his fingers and his tongue. Again. And again and again and- “Jus’ wish I got to have you sooner.”

His words make you snap your eyes up from his mean mouth to meet his gaze, devouring you as greedily and depraved as his tongue. They make your thighs burn with the effort to drag your sloppy pussy faster.

They make you cum - shaking, crying out little mewls of “Ngh- fuck. M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming.”

The way your voice is breaking at the end of each moan has Suguru’s cock straining so painfully against his trousers. One hand firmly on your waist, arching you deeper to tongue you through your high in ways he’s only ever dared to imagine. 

Ways he’s selfishly hoped only he could - even after all these years, the sight of any other man looking at you wrong having his irritation flaring. 

“S’right.” his voice is sending stars bursting behind your lids, tongue even worse. Having you pleading and so sensitive. “I got you, my love. Give it t’me.” Messy - not as forgiving as he’d like to be. “Give it alllll to me.”

And you do - all but smothering Suguru’s eager tongue with all your sweet juices. Ones he’s lapping up happily, tilting his head back as far as it’d go on the floor, letting your heady slick fill up his throat. His pussydrunk lips let out a hiss, both at the burn of that cut on his neck, and the way you’re desperately pulling your hips back. 

Too overstimulated. Too fucking sensitive. Too much - but it would never be enough for Suguru. 

“Please, Suguru.” you sob at the way your limp hips are being pulled back by a needy Suguru. “M’too sensitive. I- fuck-” He’s only lapping at your quivering cunt leisurely, smirk prominent against your swollen folds. 

And it’s all you can do to deliriously slip a hand underneath his robes, a desperate attempt to keep whatever shred of sanity you have left. Fingers feeling down his unfairly toned abs, the tufts of hair at his pelvis, reaching-

“Oh fuck!” Your heavy eyes admire the way Suguru arches into your touch in surprise - like he couldn’t help himself. Eyes flying open, glossy, plump lips curling into a disbelieving grin, “Ya really are made f’me, huh?” 

That’s all it takes for Suguru to head to your lewd whims, bruising fingers on your hips finally loosening to let you sit your sloppy cunt back down on his lap - except, this time, you were seated directly on his rock-hard cock. Pussy lips spreading around his length to just soak him. 

“Oh, my love.” He sits up, splaying you out so prettily on his lap. “How I’ve missed you.”

You don’t even register the way you’re raising your head up to meet Suguru’s - not until he spits. Once. Twice. Straight onto your awaiting tongue that you didn’t even realize you were sticking out, saccharine sweet saliva making such a mess when he’s crashing his lips into yours. 

“Yeahh, like that. Kiss me like that.” he slurs against your mouth, drunk off both sets of your sweet lips. Getting out through wet, sloppy pecks. “How I wish I had you sooner.”

You can feel your heart thumping so wildly against your ribcage, matching the needy, needy staccato of Suguru’s cock throbbing between your puffy folds. And, well, you really can’t be blamed for the way you break the kiss to look down and oh-

Oh Suguru notices that furrow between your brows, kissing away the nervous little wobble in your lower lips as he grunts, “God, you’re killin’ me.” 

Fuck. Killing him?

You were the one sent in for the kill, but it seems you won’t be making it out here alive. 

Because Suguru was so big, girth rubbing up against your thighs. So angry and heavy, smearing hot precum over his abs, your cunt, adding to add to the absolute mess. Long enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk out of here - which, honestly, Suguru would’ve preferred. To keep you with him forever. 

To have you always mewling so prettily when he’s dragging his fat head down your sensitive slit. To have his name - and only his name - leave your bruised lips when he’s asking, “Who’s got you this wet?” 

You’re so cockdrunk already that you’re groaning mindlessly, “You- Suguru-”

“No, that’s not what you call me.” 

And it takes you a few, long seconds to understand what he’s saying, all the while trying to focus with the leaky tip being pressed past your swollen folds. Slow. Torturous. Hitting you so violently at the same time he slips past that first, slutty ring of muscle. 

“Sugu!”

A blinding grin splits across Suguru’s absolutely fucked-out face, brows furrowing together in ecstasy. “That’s more hah- like it.” Not having heard that familiar little nickname - one of your many - fall from your lips since high school - one that makes a heart he forgot he had grow five sizes too large. “Now, just take me-” Hips bucking up, so strong and ruthless. “-like I know you can, okay?”

Over and over. 

You can’t let out anything but barely-lucid whines at this point, letting Suguru sink in inch by fucking inch. Your walls stretched out so perfectly to take his sheer size. But the stretch- oh, the stretch.

Fuck, it has you clawing at Suguru’s exposed shoulders, fingers leaving angry, red marks down the muscles. An obscene ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips with each time he reels his hips back, only to bully his aching cock inside until he physically couldn’t.

“Hngh- Sugu, s’too big-” You buck your hips down in shallow, tentative grinds to meet his filthy method of fitting in. “Too- much. Didn’t expect you to be so mean-”

“The sorcerer that hah- held a knife to the infamous Geto Suguru’s neck-” he groans, hands groping your ass to move you further down his massive cock. To watch the way your sloppy entrance was stretching out so much to suck him up. “-can take this too, right? I know you can.” He reaches a deft thumb around to toy with your pretty clit, making your cunt relax like the good girl she is. Fucking up deeper, just a bit more mean. “You- can-”

Several things happen at the tail end of Suguru’s sentence - he’s finally fitting in all in one go. With a calculated, harsh thrust up into your poor cunt, your ass is kissing his heavy balls, pussy rubbing against the hair at his hilt. So full and so much.

And Suguru knows he just might not see heaven - but shit, does he feel like he’s there right now. The feeling so good that both of you letting out mingling gasps of pleasure. 

Your back falling onto the now soiled mats like such animals, the other not far behind.

“You alright, my love?” Suguru hums against your throat when you’re managing to adjust somewhat to the stretch, aware enough to kiss the palm resting protectively underneath your head - making sure you don’t hurt yourself.

You bat your teary lashes, “Never been better, Sugu.”

And something about that makes him remember. 

Remember the way you’d tell him the exact same thing when you fought with curses too strong for you - coming back to the dorms all battered and bruised, but alive. Flashing him that addictive grin, and a crooked thumbs up, “Never been better, Sugu. Gold, actually.”

His golden girl.

Shaking away the tightness at his throat, Suguru instead focuses on wrapping your trembling legs around his toned waist. Tight.

“Sh-shit- you’re milkin’ me so good, fuck-”

Abs burning as he just drags his cock along your plushy walls, keeping your legs held wide open for him. So tight - like you were sucking the fucking soul out of him. Making sure to angle his hips in just the way that’ll have your eyes tearing at the way he was massaging all your sweet spots. 

And sure enough - “O-oh my god-” you breathe, and shit, it was so hard to speak. Suguru’s cock too big, too depraved. Speeding up with every ram of his hips into a steady, mean pace. “Jus’ like that, fuck-”

“Mhm?”

You paw at his free hand settled by the side of your neck, trailing it down, down, down - rings and all - to the part of your stomach you could feel his thick tip hitting. A slight bulge, abusing your cervix over and over, “Here-”

“-s’where I belong.”

Your brows raise at his interjection, and you swipe away the long locks of hair partially covering Suguru’s face, legs tightening around his hips as you take a long, hard look. He repeats, “S’where I belong. Where ngh- you belong.”

Like some deep, dark part of him was trying to fuck out any and every doubt about this out of you - as if you’d have any - Suguru’s rolling his hips harder into yours. All the way until it almost hurt - until the sting of his twitching balls against your ass felt permanent, fingerpads pressing down so hard on your stomach. 

Lips searing against yours, punctuating each word with a jagged, rough thrust. “Because you sh-shouldn’t be ah- here. You shouldn’t be-” He drags you deeper onto his dick like some ragdoll, fingers frenzying on your clit. “-with me.”

Words slurring and as sloppy as his hips now. 

“Wh-why fuck- why wouldn’t I be?”

“Heh, you forgot?” Suguru spits out a chuckle, pushing you further and further up the mat with how bruising his hips were hitting yours. Alternating between marking your cervix - your g-spot - your gummy walls. “Forgot how I told ya to live a better life than this?” Everything and anything. Hips smacking so loud, echoing in symphony with those melancholy words he parted with so long ago. “How I told you to hngh- find a-another? Live a long life? To be happy?”

Now that Suguru was talking, it was like he couldn’t stop. Like a damn had been broken - both with his words and his movements. The curve of his dick drives you wild, veins molding your cunt into their shape. 

Gritting his teeth to hold back the way his drenched balls squeeze so painfully, biting down on your lower lip. “You’re s-supposed to kill me.” A drop of sweat splashing down on your cheek, “To kill me and maybe you’ll be hah- fuck mine in another universe. But not this one.” It’s like he’s out of control now, “Never this one. You can have anybody else.”

And suddenly you’re having a flashback to just a week prior, to an uncharacteristically solemn Satoru telling you words you should’ve been happy to hear. Quiet, and unassuming. Ones you knew that had you heard them before knowing Suguru, you’d have jumped into his arms - exactly how he hoped you would, the day of his departure. 

Chuckling at you being such a “crybaby” about him leaving. After all, this was just meant to be, right?

But no.

Instead, you’re here. Bunching Suguru’s beautiful, glossy hair curtaining the sides of your head, into a ponytail. Difficult - with how he was getting faster. Harder. Just ravaging your hole until you were gaping and breathless.

And yet, arms trembling and limp, you still manage to reveal the boy you fell in love with - the one you could never forget. From the flush on his pretty face, to the twisted, sad curve of his mouth. And the eyes that bore into yours like they were searching for the same thing. Smiling, for the first time since you entered this place, “How could I ever want anyone else, Sugu?”

The hand on your stomach is cupping your adorable face so softly - and it’s hard to believe those hands have killed. Betrayed.

Like they were capable of doing anything but as Suguru swipes the single tear glistening down your cheek, “Still a crybaby, huh, my love?”

And then you cum - and Suguru isn’t too far behind. 

It’s just a flash of hot white, tingles running down your spine - all the way to the thick, creamy base soon forming around his wildly twitching cock. 

And it’s so good. Too good that all you can do it scream out his name, letting him do anything - and you were glad all he did was fuck you so mercilessly through your high. So violent. Addictive. 

Vision blurry, mouth sagging open for Suguru to press intimate little kisses along the corners of your mouth. Whispering sweet praises as your cunt sucks him up so good. So sinfully milking him for everything he’s worth. 

Taking in rope after rope of thick cum that warms your gummy walls from the inside, overfilling just enough for it to dribble down into the mat below in an obscene little pool. Smearing down your thighs, his balls. Heavenly. 

His heaven.

And in the haze of it all, Suguru imagines that you’ll reach for your knife again, press it back against the curve of his exposed neck. He imagines you’ll laugh in his face, tell him what a great whim this was but you had to get back to your job, turning your back on him as he has done before. He imagines.

But what he gets is your strained, fucked-out little voice, “I missed you, my golden boy.”

A/N. Yes, That Line was inspired by HTTYD. If I had to be hurt, y’all do, too. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 bad habit ¡

pairing nicholas chavez x fem¡reader

summary Nicholas grows a habit of biting you, using every given chance to do it. It starts off platonically, the action playful and teasing, until things eventually took a not so platonic turn, leading to a heated moment between the two of you.

contains nsfw content ! making out, biting, hickeys, and uhh interruptions.

a/n heavily inspired by bad habit!!! likes and reblogs are v much appreciated 🫶

word count 2.2k

It started off on set, when you accidentally made a mistake while filming. You chuckled, apologizing to the director, unaware of the man hovering behind you.

Nicholas’ teeth grazed over your shoulder, the sensation like feathers on your skin. The gesture was so subtle, yet so there, sending shivers down your spine. His breath fanned over your exposed flesh, almost as if he was searching for a reaction out of you.

You brushed it off, thinking Nicholas was being playful; did it for the sake of laughs and giggles, but oh boy, were you wrong. After the incident, it only got worse, with him biting you every chance he gets.

Whether it was your arm, legs, neck, shoulders, stomach, everything he laid his touch on, it was getting marked.

He wasn't afraid to do it, growing amused to the flustered reaction he always got in return. You were guilty for taking an odd liking into it, turning into a mess under his touch whenever he’d bite you.

You didn't dare put an end to it, enjoying it as much as he did. It sparked butterflies in your stomach, mind going blank with every slight touch from him.

Sometimes he would linger, merely to see if it gets a reaction out of you, while other times, it was a passing through, type of thing. Everyone on set knew that by now, smiling and nodding whenever Nicholas did it.

It didn't hurt, in fact, it felt good. The reactions you gave were a mere cover up of your attraction towards it. You felt weak for the ones where he’d kiss the spot afterwards, rubbing a comforting thumb to your skin.

You never knew when to expect it. At times, it would be while you guys were filming, he’d do it because he was embarrassed for messing up his line. While sometimes, it would be in private, when it’s only the two of you.

However, it was strictly platonic. Nicholas made himself clear; sure, he’d flirt with you every now and then, but that was only to mess with you, knowing how easily flustered you were.

That swiftly took a turn, though.

You were currently in Nicholas’ van, practicing your lines for the next scene. The boy made himself comfortable on the couch, admiring as you walked back and forth.

Nick’s giggles erupted through your ears, causing you to perk up. You glimpsed over in his direction, puzzlement washing over your face.

“What?” You questioned, inching closer to the brunet.

“Nothing.” He shook his head, glancing up at you now that you were towering over him.

“Oh.” Your lips formed into a pout, grumbling before returning your attention back to the script. “Okay.”

You moved away, yelping when you got yanked back to your position, impossibly closer now. Your gaze shifted to Nicholas’ arms, observing as he sneaked them around your waist, embracing you in a hug.

“What’s gotten into you?” You snickered, feeling his breath fan over the sliver of skin around your stomach.

“You’re so warm.” He whispered, one of his hands trailing down to your hip.

You tensed, sensing a change in his tone. It was extremely rare for Nicholas to get this clingy, unless he was tired. From what you’ve seen thus far, that was totally not the case.

Nicholas nuzzled into your stomach, a satisfied hum escaping his throat. You snorted, reading over your lines while you let him do his thing.

His fingers toyed with the hem of your top, causing you to freeze in your spot. That was… new. You don't recall him ever doing that, not even when you’re both messing around.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear.

He stuck to humming, letting his fingers trail further underneath your shirt. You almost gasped at the sensation, lips parting to exhale instead. The script in your hand was long forgotten now, as you tossed it on the couch next to Nicholas.

“Nick.” You whispered, hesitating before your hands found their way around his shoulder.

“You know…” he trailed off, voice barely above a whisper. He tilted his head back, merely to catch sight of you. “You’re really pretty.”

“Thank you.” You replied, teasing visible in your voice. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, his nails digging into your side.

You audibly gasped at the action, the idea of your hips bruising due to Nicholas’ touch driving you over the edge. One of your hands trailed to the back of his neck, the tip of your fingers toying with his hair.

He inched his face closer to your stomach, all that while maintaining eye contact with you. He mouthed at your skin, touch lingering as he waited for a reaction out of you.

Your lips parted with pleasure, jolting when you felt his teeth grazing over your stomach, biting you before you knew it.

There it was, the tingling sensation it striked through your body. You shuddered under his touch, feeling your knees grow weak. A moan escaped your throat when he repeated the action, accidentally tugging his hair in the process.

Nick groaned in response, eyes forcing shut at the sensation. Pleasure fell upon his face, squeezing anything he could lay his hands on.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, littering kisses to your stomach. “Has anyone ever told you how breathtaking you are?”

You moaned at the statement, arching your back into the touch. Nick’s hand trailed down to your ass, giving it a squeeze through the fabric of your shorts.

You forced your eyes shut at the action, unable to control the moan escaping your throat. You were a flustered mess under his touch, wincing whenever he nibbled too hard on your skin.

The thought of getting marked by Nicholas drove you mental, it has your mind hazing up, leaving you wanting more.

“I–” you stammed, hushed words filling the air. “What about filmin’?”

“We have time.” He muttered, pulling you down by your sides.

Your body collided with Nick’s as you fell into his lap. He adjusted your position, making sure you were comfortable in the process. Nicholas groaned in your ear, throwing his head back when you accidently brushed over his crotch.

Your face heated, feeling his hardon through the thin fabric of clothes. You awkwardly hovered over his lap, unaware of your next move.

Fuck, Nicholas was hard, and it was because of you. Your mind went fuzzy all over, head filling with a million questions, yet none at the same time.

Nicholas pushed you down, not hesitating to collide your lips in a kiss. He captured your bottom lip between his teeth, the action seeping tension through the air.

He leisurely pulled back, pulling at your lip with his teeth, nibbling on it before he moved away. Your mouth remained parted, letting your forehead rest against his.

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?” He whispered, stealing a kiss from the corner of your lips. “Fuck, you're so…”

You couldn't control your hips as you grinded down, a hiss erupting through your ears in the process. You felt Nicholas twitch through his pants, the gesture a great impact on him.

He looked out of it. His eyes hazed up, barely able to hold contact with yours as he fluttered them shut.

“You’re so fucking pretty, doll.” He praised, voice muffled as he peppered kisses along your jaw. “I'm obsessed with you, everythin’ about you drives me mental.”

“Nick.” You said through a breath, voice slightly shaky.

An audible gasp escaped your throat as he slipped a hand underneath your shirt, fingers instantly finding your chest. He gave your boob a squeeze, while he traced open mouthed kisses to the other one through the fabric of your shirt.

You leaned your head back, grinding down as a whine muffled its way out of your mouth. Nick was incredible with his mouth, he knew exactly how to please a woman, and how to make her feral in all the right places.

You felt heat release from your body, the room growing hot with every move you committed to. This was all you’ve ever wanted. You wanted to get a taste of Nicholas so bad, so fucking bad it was starting to get a bit concerning.

And with the whole biting thing? Yeah, that was your last straw.

You yelped when his teeth grazed over your nipple, the action causing goosebumps to breakout across your chest. You attempted to pull away from the touch, quickly interrupted by the hand on your back as it brought you closer, if that was even possible.

The distance between you guys was extinct now, the only thing blocking you being the thin layers of clothes.

“I need you…” Nick groaned, nipping at your skin.

He buried his face in your neck, his heavy breaths the only thing seeping through the silent void. His tone was so suggestive, needy, keen and in need of you. How’s one able to resist when someone as desperate as Nicholas exists?

“I’m all yours.” You licked your lips, cupping Nicholas’ face.

You withdrew his face from your neck, breath hitching when you caught sight of how much of a mess he was. In fact, he might’ve been more affected than you were.

You connected your lips in another kiss, tilting your head to get a better angle of his mouth. A satisfied hum erupted through your ears, causing you to smile through the kiss.

Nicholas toyed with the strap of your top, pushing it down your arm, followed with the other one eventually after. The action peaked interest through your chest, causing you to pull back with amusement.

“Here?”

“Mhm.” He hummed, “I’ll be quick.”

He nipped and sucked at your neck, finger tugging down your top, exposing your chest to the air. You shivered, hissing when Nicholas grazed his teeth over the flesh, trailing his mouth all the way down to your breasts.

His mouth salivated at the sight, pausing to admire how perfect your boobs were. His gaze shifted back to you, as you stared at him with a shy smile across your lips.

“I didn't think you could get any perfect.” He pecked your mouth, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You’ve seen nothing.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You applied pressure around the back of his head, pushing him down on your chest. Nicholas accepted with content, gliding his tongue over your now hard nipple.

You nipped at his hair, arching into the touch. It felt amazing, hot spit coating your cold skin. It was absolutely heavenly, no words could describe it.

He kneaded your other boob with his hand, the sensation spiraling you over the edge.

He traced open mouth kisses to your collarbones, sucking on the bony flesh around your shoulder.

“Nick…” you muttered through a gasp, “That will leave a mark.”

“Good.” He exhaled through his mouth, tone cocky. “Let everyone know you’re mine.”

“My god.” You mumbled, voice barely audible.

You pushed him back on the couch, already missing the warmth of his tongue on your body. He chased after your touch, earning a chuckle out of you as your hand covered his mouth.

“Stay.” You ordered, voice seductive.

You teasingly toyed with the hem of your shirt, leisurely tucking it up to reveal the whole of your stomach. The fabric pooled just beneath your chest, creating a thick material.

However, that was long forgotten as you tugged it over your head, getting it off your body. And Nicholas couldn't help but groan as he moved forward, laying his touch wherever his hands landed.

Your fingers found their way around his shirt, delicately unbuttoning it until it revealed his whole chest. Your mouth watered at the sight, removing the shirt with a bit of help from the boy.

Your digits traced over the lines of his abs, gulping when you noticed how muscular he was beneath all the clothes he wore. His eyes followed your hand as it came to a halt around his pants, fingers teasingly fidgeting with the button.

“Get it off of me already.” He hissed, thrusting up into you.

The collision made you gasp, his hardon brushing against your ass. Your fingers dug into his skin, grinding down on him to chase after your pleasure.

“Fucking hell.” He cursed under his breath, mouth gaping with desire.

You clumsily unbuttoned his pants, freezing in your spot when you heard a knock on the door. Your eyes widened in shock, attention shifting back to Nicholas, who was just as shocked as you were.

The crew member called out your name, causing you to perk up. “You’re up in five minutes, make sure you’re ready.”

Right, you guys were on set.

You were swift to get up, throwing your shirt over your head. You stole a glimpse at Nicholas, who hopelessly stared at you, disappointment visible on his face.

You smiled, endeared by how sulky he was, as he looked adorable while doing it. You moved over, ruffling your hair into place before you connected your lips with his.

Although he was upset, he happily returned the gesture, chasing after your lips when you moved away.

“Sorry about that.” Your gaze shifted down to his lap, noticing the hardon in his pants. “I’ll help you out later.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, no longer sulky. “I’ll look forward to that.”

“Mhm, you definitely should.”

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (141 x fem!reader, live together)

Beside you, Kyle is the first to wake up in the morning. He’ll pad towards the kitchen, enjoying the sight of you making your morning drink silently, before moving to stand right behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he grinds he bulge lazily against your ass. He just wants to feel your warmth, how nice your soft flesh press against his cock.

“Just want to feel you, baby. It’s so cold out here.” He’ll unabashedly slip his hands under your pajamas shirt, kneading your breasts and tugging at those sensitive buds, forcing you to stop brewing your drink because you might spill the liquid.

Kyle just want to get an orgasm from you, a gift for you two morning birds, he claims before succumbing to sleepiness and tuck himself back under the duvet, fully content with being the first man making you come undone everyday, and sleeps in 5 more minutes.

You know Johnny will drag you into the shower with him whenever he comes back from his morning jog. You chide him before he engulfs you in his embrace, lightheartedly calling him a stinky man and shush him to go shower first.

So his solution is hug you despite your protest, then pull you inside the bathroom together, stripping off your pajamas and his sports wear impatiently before jumping into the shower with you.

“We’re both stinky now, jus’ thought ye might need a shower too.” Johnny grins when you glare at him, shamelessly pretends he’s just ‘looking out for ye’ while his hands traveling across your body, groping and preparing you for his cock with his hard dick prodding at the small of your back. He’ll never hurt you, but as soon as you’re wet enough for his girthy shaft, he’ll pick you up, stretching you deeply and completely with the help of your weight, groans and growls at how good you are, how your precious pussy takes him so good, ignoring Ghost’s noise complaint coming from the other side of the bathroom door as he fucks you fast and feral, making you unable to care about suppressing your moans and cling onto him, let him keep scooping you in his arms and thrust into you till he empty his balls in your good little cunt.

Finally getting Kyle and Johnny pass out from the alcohol, John and Simon manhandle them back to the bedroom before entering the living room again. 00:13, a glance at the clock telling you it’s late in the night, but it’s just the start for the three of you. Retrieving a bottle of fine rum, John seats you between him and Simon, thighs touching with theirs as you all sip on the wine and chat quietly. “The boys will chug the rum like it’s some cheap beer, they can settle with those just fine.” John chuckles lowly and comments on the awful taste and drinking habit of Kyle and Johnny.

“Those bonkers will stick to your side the whole day and complain if they find out, old man.” Simon chimes in after huffing out a laugh at John’s words.

You snicker along with them, feeling fully content and relaxed with squished between two of your lovers, joking about the other two men you loved while the rum flows smoothly down your throat. Soon your composure slips after few nips of the wine, whining cute and groggily as Simon ravish in the kiss with you, tongues dance and tangle with each other in a slow pace, let him drink down all your syrupy moans and coos in rare gentleness, so John can slickens up your pussy with his lips and your juices, making sure you can accommodate their fat cocks later, and you can’t expect or plead him to sink his cock into you already until him and Simon can see your juices dripping down your soaked folds, praying them to fill you up.

The two men will treat you so well, worshipping their dearest girl in the world. Simon’s fingers and lips are always on you when John squeeze his fat tip into your entrance, gliding in and out slowly and heavily, so all those spongy spots of yours that can make you chant his name like a mantra aren’t missed out. When he put a load in you with a husky groan, passing you onto Simon’s lap and let you lean back on his chest, he’ll plant tiny kisses on your shoulder, murmur about how they love you—will protect you and keep you safe and sound—against your skin. Simon allows him to indulge in the heat and tightness of your pussy, grunting and praising you as he fuck John’s cum back inside you, making sure you take each drops of John’s seeds, like the reliable lieutenant he always is for his captain. The base of his length has formed a creamy froth the time he nips down slightly on your shoulder to muffle his moan, drenching your messy cunt with every bit of his release. “Atta girl.” His croon is added with John’s soothing voice “Yeah, been so good for us, princess.”

They both pick up the glass once again to finish the remaining rum, with you already drifting between your slumber and consciousness, listening to their small chatters as your own lullaby. You don’t know when they’ll finish drinking, or if one of them will nestle their cock inside your pussy again, just to feel your walls clenching down subconsciously, but you let yourself slip into a dream, because they’ll take good care of you, always do and always will.

[sevikasbooyahh]

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐇𝐂'𝐬

Just random random headcannons about my wife <3

She makes lots of noises; grunts, sighs, groans. It’s basically a language that only you can understand at this point.

“Hmph,” she grunted with her usual grumpy expression. “You want cuddles?” She nods her head in response.

Snores but denies it. It’s like when you’re sharing a hotel room with your family and your dad’s snoring keeps you awake; staring at the ceiling. You’ve told her multiple times but she just doesn’t believe it.

“You kept me awake all night,” you said in disbelief as your utterly exhausted eyes met hers. “Uh-huh, how? Do NOT say because I was snoring.””You were snoring.”

But in all seriousness, she started sleeping on her side—the snoring was due to her sleeping on her back.

Doesn’t care for public affection, not that she won’t slip her arm around your waist or have her hand on your thigh once in a while—but it isn’t often.

(Saw someone else say this)—absolutely loves dad jokes. She won’t laugh at anything else but dad jokes.

“Hey babe,” you slid next to her on the couch. “Hm?””What days are the strongest?“ you asked. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Saturday and Sunday,” you started to smile. “Why?” She was slightly curious. “‘Cause the rest are weekdays,” she couldn’t even hold it before she burst out laughing.

Takes her mechanical arm off before she goes to bed because she doesn’t wanna hurt you.

Tough with everyone else but you, Jinx and Isha (they’re alive and well).

Isha made a cheerful noise as she raised her tea cup. Sevika sat across from her, hunched over the small table, teacup in hand. She pretended to drink from it, “Mm, nice.”

Perfers actions over words—for example, her version of an apology is by doing more of what she should’ve done in the past. If she wasn’t spending much time with you before, she’d immediately take it upon herself to fix her schedule.

VERY protective, especially when you’re at The Last Drop, nothing escapes her vision.

Once, this guy attempted to flirt with you but before he could get a word out, he was immediately met with a deadly glare from her. She pulled you closer towards her with a raised eyebrow, “You got something to say?” That sent him babbling in fear, “Uh-no, no, of course not!—“”Get out of my sight.”

Claims she’s not an animal person but will come home with a kitten she found on the street.

“It wouldn’t stop following me,” she said while avoiding eye contact with you. You knew she was lying.

Sometimes when she comes back from work she’ll just collapse on the couch. She’s a busy woman, alright?

Jinx cut her hair then made fun of her afterwards.

Jinx cackled after she looked at the final product, “Sweetcheeks ain’t gonna love you now, are they?” The older woman simply grumbled under breath, “You’re the one who cut it.””Yeah and I made it ugly on purpose.”

You ended up loving her hair anyway.

Secretly likes when you lay on top of her; loves seeing how comfortable you are

She’s always warm; your personal heater

Somehow gives the best hugs—bear hugs, but is so awkward with it

Takes the longest showers known to mankind; once she gets in, be prepared to wait about an hour. Meanwhile, half the time it’s just her staring at the wall.

Will let Isha climb her on rare occasions; sometimes the girl gets insanely hyper and is moving all over the place.

Says she’s “not fond of kids” but has a soft spot for them.

A little boy with blue-dyed hair walked up to her while she was outside one day. “H-hi, can you please sign this?” He asked in a soft-spoken manner, showing a drawing, offered with a crayon. She didn’t respond but took the paper and signed her name on the back. Internally, she was in disbelief that this boy looked up to her in some way. “Thank you!” He gave a big smile before running back to his group of friends, happily showing them the signature. A twitch edged at the end of her mouth.

[yzzart]

YOU'RE RULING THE WAY THAT I MOVE... ── KENJI SATO

── summary: Kenji was insatiable, they say.

── content warnings: F!reader, 18+, nsfw, fiance!kenji, oral (f!receiving), finger marks, petnames, dirty talk, explicit words, explicit content.

── word count: 1.206!

Oh, Kenji Sato was, unconditionally, insatiable. — Perhaps, mentioned in countless reports and comments and rumors from journalists, a little voracious and avid. — Making it clear that he looked for satisfaction around him, wanting to end this thirst on the court.

Being one of the biggest, and best, baseball stars, he had the reason, and right, to cause this. — Everyone could agree, right?

But this feeling remained in his chest, covertly, off the court; of course, trying not to show it in the public eye. — There was a mixture of need and lack that only Sato could admit; poorly, dramatic.

Kenji felt hungry, needing to be close to you, causing any physical contact, wanting to enjoy every inch of your body; aspiring to press it around you. — He wants to feel, touch and delight you. — And that drove the young boy crazy.

At the same time that you drove him crazy, leaving Sato thirsty, greedy for your smell or just seeing your gaze against his, you also directed him to the light; being a guide on your troubled path. —Kenji was grateful, and, gods, as he was. — The possibly true meaning of walking through heaven and hell in one walk.

He was trapped, connected to you; always keeping, like a magnet, his strong, long arms around your waist, pressing himself against you or fitting his face into the crook of your neck, nudging his nose into the back of your neck. — Sometimes, his teeth run through your skin, a sensitive spot, marking the area and then kissing it; conveying a loving and ironic action when saying “sorry, my love”.

Also, Kenji remained, pleasantly, surrounded between your thighs and holding them, with such precision and rigidity, leaving, in the future, marks of his long fingers; unable to avoid the possessiveness that coursed through his veins. — Delighting, relishing in the taste of your pussy; keeping him even more addicted to you, being certified as a starving animal.

That mouth, so bold and sharp, that responded and argued everything that came to mind, in fact, was smeared with taste and pleasure; sucking, kissing your folds, incredibly wet and mixed with his saliva, in an unruly way. — Attacking your sensitive and pulsating clitoris, his tongue surrounding it with slow circles and tracing lines across the region. — Rarely threatening contact with his teeth.

The damned man knew how to torture you and thought it was funny, he had, unquestionably, a talent for it.

“Ken, holy shit…!” — The environment, unstable, dark and poorly lit by the small bands of light that came from the huge windows, covered by curtains, was filled with the moans and whimpers that came out of your beautiful, dirty mouth. — “Ngh!” — You choked, trying to breathe.

Kenji would like, would love, to live with his face between your thighs; he could forget about baseball, save the city from monsters, everything. — Everything to devour you.

“My little princess with that mouth…” — A pop, made by his mouth, when sucking one of your folds was exclaimed. — “…so dirty.” — Pretends false hurt along with a pout, quickly licks his lips. — "So good…"

Raising his shiny orbs of desire and lasciviousness, Kenji witnessed, or rather, enjoyed your dazed image, hazy of the purest pleasure you received, feeling in a cloud of delight. — The large t-shirt, which belonged to your fiencé, lifted up to your collarbone, showing off your perky breasts and your messy hair spread across the pillow. — A magnificent work of art, somewhat angelic, apollonian.

Your little face manifested the lost between lust and excitement, being a sight for Sato's eyes. — You looked wonderful, as always.

“You know, hmm…” — The heat of his tongue returned, moving, slowly, to your entrance, tasting, ambitious; Sato's name was begged, almost inaudible, landing in his ears. — “I would spend hours eating that pussy.” — He had already confessed to that filthy curse so many times, but that's not a complaint. — “Oh, but, you know, don’t you?” — He growled.

“Hm, hm…” — This was an attempt to state what I had heard. — “Ken, please…” — You didn’t know what, in fact, you were begging, you didn’t care about blurting out disconnected words and things; the older one raised his eyebrows, mocking you.

“Fuck, baby.” — Kenji exclaims, almost breathless, closing his eyes and tracing a line with his tongue to the small, quivering dot, focusing on it; impatiently, wanting to enjoy your orgasm. — "I know, i know." — He babbled, clicking his tongue and increasing the speed of his licks; distributing a messy, clumsy, obscene kiss to your pussy.

A scream, thin and tearful, with a melodic tone, and considered music for the player, broke free from your mouth. — Being caught off guard during the change of promptness. — Without delay, one of your hands fell on Sato's black hair, pulling it sharply. — And you swear you felt a dirty smile, then a giggle, which sent a wave of shock through you.

When you felt a hot, scorching sensation of pleasure and voluptuousness boiling in your stomach, accompanied by the impression of numbness dominating your extremely sensitive little spot, you knew you were close. — Kenji too. — Your chest burned, rose and fell, trying to regulate or catch a breath, and your back arched; whining, immorally, even more so for Ken.

Holding your thighs, feeling a mediocre courage in trying to close them, which were increasingly trembling, Kenji's hands slowly caressed them; wanting to reassure you. — The coldness of his engagement ring ran across your skin, giving you goose bumps. — From the movement made in his mouth, Ken had said something, but, covered with exultation, you was unable to understand; probably words of encouragement.

"Oh, Ken, Kenji...!" — You screamed, frantically, while miserably moving your hips against Kenji's mouth, warning him; even if there is no such need. — Understanding what was going on, a growl came out of the older man's mouth, maintaining his rhythm. — “I’m close, Ken…” — You cried, feeling tears invading your eyes.

Suddenly digging your nails into Sato's scalp, as tears, witnesses of desire, fall from your eyes, you cum in Kenji's mouth; deliciously releasing all your pleasure. — Your head resting on the pillow, your chest rising and falling under pure exhaustion. — Therefore, you continues to be devoured by your lover.

Kenji, by gently opening your thighs a little, gets drunk on your orgasm; persistently tasting, tasting and eating your pussy. — Now, unshakable and extremely high level of sensitivity. — The tongue cleaning, searching and not leaving any drop of your cum with his greed and thirst to be quenched.

You were being adored, worshiped —even ecstatically— and you appreciated it. — Sato never tired of making you feel this way.

“Please,” — As he start to pull away, Kenji lifts his head, to get a clear view of you, and the glow on his chin and mouth, caused by your cum and his saliva, sends butterflies to your stomach. . — "you're so perfect." — He murmured, stunned and swallowed dryly. — “I wanted to stay buried in your thighs, like, forever.”

Your hand, which was still between his locks, immediately messed them up; mercilessly finding his change in personality ridiculous. — Addressing a low "i love you” to him.

“Me too, love” — He took a deep breath. — “But, i’m serious.”