#it’s just that boyish charm idk

[monkeydlesbian]

i know in one piece canon the monster trio are losers who get zero play but in the one piece universe in my brain zoro and sanji are still losers it’s LUFFY that’s the menace

[yeonban]

How is everyone in the Takeda family beautiful...

[devilishdelights]

some mammon stuffs from awhile ago. I did this for every character (pain.) to figure out how I want em to look like + use as refs.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。and my body keeps saying (it's yours) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k

summary: gojo thinks this is different, new, almost like it’s the first time for everything.

contains: f!reader in mind but no specifics are mentioned, 18+/mature/soft-slight n*ft/w, sex with feelings (it’s really just vanilla tho!), first time!, there’s an awkward bit but that’s intentional!, lots of nervous feelings! but also lots of intimacy!

a/n: for nonie.🫧 who asked about what it would be like for their first time! title is inspired by an emotional oranges song, devotion (which i used as music inspo for the entire fic too + troye sivan, what a heavenly way to die). this is also my first time writing anything close to n*fw so please be kind! idk if i’ll ever write one again; takes place between tell me about love (show me how) and so this is what it means to be in love!

collection masterlist: conversations on love 02. tell me about love (show me how) <- you are here -> +02 (extra). look my way, you're what i crave

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

It’s a touch—

—fingertips brushing the edge of his jaw, trailing down his neck, lightly, delicately.

Gojo kisses you beneath the glow of your bathroom lights and he twitches, just a little bit. 

“Sorry,” you stop, attempting to pull away from him immediately. 

His neck is sensitive, always has been since Toji. The mark has faded over the years; what used to be a line running through the shadow of his jawline is now nothing, but you know the feeling lingers, still. You’ve tried to avoid the area as much as you could—while sparring, hugging, kissing; holding him in moments as intimate as this. But sometimes, your fingers slip, and he jolts, so you move away, apologetic—

And he wishes that you didn’t, wishes that he didn’t have to react that way when all he really wants is for you to hold him like this.

He stares at you now, lips puffed and kiss-bitten, and thinks, he shouldn’t even be here—

—at 2:00 a.m., in your apartment, fresh out of a three-day assignment he caught the last train for, just to see you. 

He shouldn’t even be here, bone-tired in a black t-shirt and track pants he couldn’t be bothered with—there just wasn’t enough time to change out of it. 

And he really shouldn't even be here, except, he cut the assignment two days short, rushed through it, restless, eager at the thought of getting back soon. 

All because he missed you. 

Gojo keeps you close, his fingers splayed on the base of your spine, warm and pressing. You can’t read him, his next move, but his eyes hold lightning crackling. He takes your hand and guides it back to where he’s weakest, underneath his jaw, on his neck—healed skin and tissue, his lifeline to you.

“Keep it,” he murmurs, eyes piercing. 

He still twitches when you touch his skin, but it’s always been involuntary. You should know that it could never be because of you, your hands that hold every good thing his heart carries. 

You lean in first, tiptoeing, nudging his nose with yours and your lips hovering. His pulse point rests beneath your fingertips—can you feel how fast it’s beating? Just from having you near him? 

The tips of his hair tickle your forehead and he swallows, throat bobbing. It’s impossible to resist him when he’s this boyish, this charming, so you kiss his lips once, before pulling away, teasing. He bites his lips, red blooming against pink, and you don’t know exactly what you’re anticipating—

But he leans in. 

When you kiss again, the feeling is familiar, a memory of trembling lips and shaky breaths by a bathroom door that isn’t yours. He doesn’t tremble anymore, isn’t as stiff when he has your lips memorized among many other things, but Gojo still flushes the same way your cheeks heat up and your breaths intermingle at the same rate your hearts race.  

You follow where the lights have diffused into your hallway, this dance with him a push-and-pull you’ve done a few times before. He keeps his palm flat on your lower back, pushing you closer, while pulling you towards your bedroom door.  

His hands slide to your waist, dipping you, grip tightening as you bite his lips, tugging. He moans softly, voice low when your hands rake through his hair, the vibrations rippling through your mouth. Your fingers grasp at the short strands of hair at the back of his head, sighing when his lips are released from yours. 

There’s a moment where you catch his eyes, pupils blown a dangerous blue—a sky swallowing you whole before he begins trailing kisses down your neck, nips and licks evidence of just how greedy he is with you. 

A heat builds within you, rooted deep in your belly as you stay pressed against the outline on his crotch. 

It’s hard to imagine a time before all this, how he even struggled to hold your hand when he touches you now like this. 

You stumble over his feet as he backs into your bedroom, steadied only by his hold on you. You chuckle, a small ‘oops’, so sweet, as your collarbone clashes with his teeth. He smiles, lips curled against your skin as he teases, “So clumsy,” 

He’s kissed you this much before, has held you this tight, and touched you much more but this feeling between you now, he can tell—

Tonight is different. 

You lead him this time, to the edge of your bed as you keep him closer, hands all over him. When you lie down, lower lip caught between your teeth, you smile shyly but your eyes burn sinfully, and Gojo wonders if you know that this is what he sees when he’s dreaming. 

He moves closer, your mattress dipping as he hovers above you, arms caging the sides of your face. His head is spinning, eyes zeroing in on the skin exposed by the single button undone on your pajama top. 

When you cup his cheeks, thumb running across his swollen lips—

He thinks he might go crazy. 

You have no idea what you just did. 

He takes a breath before pressing every bit of his longing onto your neck, kissing, sucking, licking, imprinting proof that he was here, with you. It’s red and blotchy, situated right underneath your ear and it’s one too many but still not enough—for him, never enough.

You gasp, tugging at the hem of his shirt, and it’s overwhelming, this feeling. As quickly as it escalated, Gojo freezes, as if you’ve burned him, as if he’s caught up to what could possibly be happening, and it’s—

It’s a lot. 

He pulls away slowly, eyes wide and breath shaky. The air is thick, hot and heavy, and this—where this is going is something he’s never done before, not entirely. 

You sit up, alarmed, hands cradling his face carefully. His eyes are frantic, nervous, blinking at a pace that only makes you worried. 

“We can stop,” you mumble, lowering your hands to take his, gently.

He sees you, hair a mess, marked his, beautiful, and  he just wants to make sure—that you’re okay with this, that you want this, with him. Truly. 

“Do you want to?” he asks, a sky you could fall into, “Honestly.” 

He breathes out, staring. You gulp before shaking your head. “Do you?”  

And he doesn’t have to think much about it, really, because of course, he doesn’t want to stop. 

How could he, when it’s you?

He shakes his head too and you smile.

You squeeze his hand, guiding it to the buttons of your top, “Okay—”

“We’ve never…” he hesitates, trailing off.

It’s weird because it isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before; you’ve both done things at the very least, just never all the way. And now, with the knowledge that that very fact is going to change—it feels different, new, like it’s the first time for everything. 

You nod, stroking his knuckles to reassure him, “You said you’re a fast learner, right?” 

The nervous laugh you give is oddly comforting, and he remembers that first kiss and the single thought that if he doesn’t do this now, how much longer ‘till he does? 

So he takes it—

—unbuttons your top one-by-one, and he’s a bit shaky, hands clammy, but he gets it off eventually. Then goes his shirt, and your shorts, his pants, a struggle to get past his ankles until you’re both bare, cheeks hot while giggling, like first loves—and maybe it is. 

Gojo sees you stripped down, uncovered, wholly you for the first time and thinks he could die. 

It’s vulnerable and strange as he hovers over you this time, skin-to-skin, but you fit together this way, just right. 

You giggle some more, unable to hide your nervousness. It’s a habit you have—laughing in inappropriate situations, but he thinks it’s cute, so he does it right back. 

Your fingers trace his eyebrows, down to his nose and cheeks, then to his lips, still red and bitten, “You’re so pretty, Satoru. Not fair.” 

He blushes, tips of his ears and neck flushing, “‘Course,” he kisses your nose, pulling away to get a good look at you.

“Have to be if I’m with you.” 

It’s cheesy, and you roll your eyes, laughing full-on but he smiles wider and it feels good knowing that he’ll forever get to share this moment with you. 

“I, uh,” he mumbles, trying to find the words, “have to prep.” 

“Oh, yeah, right,” you move, hands reaching for him between you, but he catches your wrist before you touch him, stopping you. 

“Don’t,” he says, firm, face red as he looks straight at you. “I might not…” he doesn’t continue but you know what he means, so you nod, pulling away. 

His hand trails down your body, inching closer to where you need him to be, and it’s sweet you think, because he kisses your lips once before asking, “Can I?” as if he still has to.

You nod, before whispering, “Don’t ask next time.” 

Next time, you said and it rings, echoes in his head as a promise for more—that this is just the beginning. 

So he touches you, in every way he thinks you should be, in every way he knows you want to be. 

There’s a gasp, then a moan as he leaves another mark on your neck, and you’re so close when he stops. 

You whimper, but you know what’s next, and you see it in his eyes as he prepares himself, fingers discarding a square packet, “You’ll let me know?” he whispers, soft, concerned.

You’ll let me know if I hurt you? he means, and his eyes stare into yours, sincere. 

You nod, brushing your lips against his, and when you feel it—it’s unusual, maybe a bit uncomfortable but he’s there kissing it away. 

There’s an adjustment, a few awkward positions until he finds it, then he goes slow, rhythmic. Your sighs grow louder and he groans, withholding, then you say it—

“‘Toru,”

—by his ear, soft and breathy, and he’s gone, stilling and spilling, a part of him forever yours, irrevocably. 

thank you notes: to nonie.🫧 for asking about this in the first place, and to niku (@stellamancer) for emotional support and for reading this first!! + for helping me go over it!! i love u niku 😭

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[arminsumi]

growing up with gojo satoru.

NOTE: it's a trash draft abt growing up with gojo and he had a crush on u since ever or smth idk i think it's a potential backstory for a fic?? 👍🗑️

you and satoru have known each other since you were toddlers because the gojo family and your family are very close. he was born just two years after you.

growing up, he was the richest and snobbiest and snottiest. but he could be charming if he needed to be. formal when he needed to be. just not to you, his closest friend. his only friend growing up.

satoru greatly enjoyed picking on you. he annoyed you to death. chasing you down the halls while your parents had tea together. tripping you. ruffling your hair. stealing your sweets and putting them above his head once he had hit that big growth spurt and you could no longer reach them. "accidentally" spilling tea all over your new kimonos. bringing bugs to you just to freak you out.

but that was just all the annoying childhood memories that you dwelled on. if you asked your parents, you'd hear stories of how you and satoru were inseparable; jointed at the hip, the one never strayed too far from where the other was. where you went, he followed without missing a step and vice versa. often you'd be holding hands without realizing. you remember your grandparents laughing and teasing the two of you about that many times, and then you and satoru would throw each other disgusted looks and let go of each other's hands — only to resume that fingerlocking a few minutes later. it was subconscious for him to stick so close to you.

dwelling on the bad memories detracted you from remembering all the good memories.

the times satoru comfortingly slept at your side when you stayed the night during a thunderstorm at his house. all the times he stood up for you and faced off with that brat sukuna. how suguru would console and hug you while satoru threw fists with the other boy; always, always emerging victorious and bearing a triumphant, almost cocky smirk at you. albeit with blood dribbling out of his nose. you remember sukuna always picking on you, but not in the way satoru did; he had a malicious way about it, but satoru's teasing was playful and even cute. he was tasteful with his jokes, never falling victim to crudeness or vulgarity, never genuinely offending you.

and satoru's mother really liked to bring up that satoru had a "boyish crush" on you around the ages 10 - 14. she mentioned it at dinner all the time, when he was reaching the ages of 16 - 18 it really annoyed him.

"i did not have a crush on bugface." he would always deny it. ah, that ancient nickname, the one that still got on your nerves. and it came to be all because a bug landed on your cheek one day at the riverbank and you didn't notice until satoru pointed it out and burst with laughter.

satoru was gifted. you know, a child prodigy. he was the strongest. and growing up with him, he always used his gifts and strength to protect and care for you, whether it was physically or mentally. throwing fists with people who picked on you, acting like your bodyguard at times even if a boy simply wanted to ask you out on a date. studying with you until you aced your papers so that the both of you could go to the same high prestigious high schools.

albeit he was a bit enigmatic with how he showed his care. it was in the little things. helping you out the river when you fell in when you were twelve, confronting sukuna while you cried in suguru's arms about what he had said about your family, or picking blossoms out your hair.

that last one was something he continued to do through his whole life. whenever a blossom or leaf tangled into your hair, or got caught on your clothes, satoru would very gently pluck it off. he did it so smoothly that you never noticed he was doing it. though sometimes, you'd look at him suspiciously and ask why he was standing so close to you. he'd flick his brows up and hum "nothing."

[sunraies]

hiiii can u do rafe x reader? she is really shy and a very nice person and maybe she is jj twin and one day she is just browsing on a second habd bookstore cause obvi she cant afford to buy books all the time and rafe sees her there cause he took weezy there and he buys the books that she looked more interested at and later he approaches her and jj all protective

idk where i want it to go🤣 u can be tyr judge

thank uuuu

This is so cute! I hope this does the request justice. x

Second-Hand Books

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings - Fluff, protective JJ, Reader is JJ's sister, but no description given. Hints of Luke being a shit dad.

As requested above

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You loved the second-hand bookstore in Kildare. It sometimes felt like a second home. Its name and sign was by no means magical "Secondhand Books" written in cursive golden letters, but the atmosphere was.

The old converted shop was a treasure trove of wonders, tucked away in a little side alley. It smelt like an old library with its shelves filled with countless stories and adventures waiting to be picked up and read. There were plants dotted all around, and even ivy tangled amongst the fairy lights on the ceiling.

Mixed matched lamps, tables, and plush armchairs were scattered around. If you caught Ms. Peggy, on a good day, she would let you sit and read until closing. The old lady enjoyed your company, often making you tea and giving you cookies.

You returned the favour by helping clean, unbox shipments, and take orders. You never accepted a penny from her, even if it was desperately needed it.

"Wheeze, why are we here?" You knew that voice as it carried through the aisles. "The store up the road has brand new books, not these dusty, old shit ones."

"They aren't dusty. Some are old. But none are shit." the youngest Cameron's voice protested. "I like it here. Plus, there is no chance of finding first editions of classics in that one"

"Just look online." Rafe sighed as you peaked around the corner.

He stood close to the door, which bell had jingled as they entered, with his hands stuffed in his shorts pockets. The backwards baseball cup gave him a boyish charm as his sunglasses were tucked into the collar of his pink tee.

He looked a little out of place, but only by his uninterested expression. Rafe Cameron would most likely fit in anywhere if he wasn't jugding his surroundings.

Wheezie, on the other hand, had a smile so bright as she practically skipped into the store. "There is no fun in that. You can't smell the books"

"You're a weird kid, Wheeze." Rafe shook his head, but you caught the small smile as he watched his baby sister happily search the shelves.

"Shut up and help look for Little Women." Wheezie called over her shoulder. "Make sure it's first edition"

You were shocked as Rafe chuckled and held up his hands before helping Wheezie look. He checked the higher shelves that she was unable to reach.

One problem with Ms. Peggy was her store had no order to it. You had offered to organise and arrange in alphabetical order, but she claimed it took away the magic of finding the perfect book.

"Here." You smiled as you approached Wheezie. Rafe had given up looking about 20 minutes ago and was slumped in an armchair, scrolling on his phone. "It's not a first edition, but the cover is beautiful."

"Oh. It's beautiful!" Wheeze smiled, taking the book and admiring the cover. "It's ok, I just said that, so it would give me more time in here." she whispered, making you laugh.

Your laugh caught Rafe’s attention as he quickly glanced up from his phone. His eyes looked you up and down.

Damn, how did you look so beautiful. He was sure he'd seen the crop top you were wearing on Kie before, but it looked so much better on you. He loved the way your shorts hugged your ass and waist. He even smiled a little at the shell anklet at the top of your greyish white Converse.

"You find it?" He asked, having shook the thoughts from his mind and tucking his phone into his back pocket.

"Yeah, Miss Maybank helped me," Wheezie smiled, remembering her manners, even if you were the same age as Sarah. "But I wanna look around some more."

Rafe sighed and rolled his eyes at her pleading look. "Alright, fine. One hour, and then we gotta go."

As Wheezie bounced around the store, he flopped back into the chair, even picking up a book from the table and glancing at it.

What you didn't realise was that as you looked away, he would glance over the top of the book every so often and watched as you moved around the store. He noticed that you would read the back of a book, flick to the first page before smiling and tucking under your arm if you like it.

"Just the one, Ms Peg." You smiled at the old lady behind the till before digging into your old, tattered, looking tote bag and pulling out your purse.

"I can put the others to the side for you, dear." She offered as you had walked up to the till with a pile of five.

"It's ok. If they are gone by next week, then it wasn't meant to be." You said as handed her the cash.

You didn't know why you even admitted to buying all five as you should have known your card would bounce. Maybe this time, you had just been hoping that Luke, your father, hadn't run up the credit bill.

You wished a goodbye to Wheezie as she walked up the counter with a pile of books and even gave Rafe a smile and wave as you left the store.

*-*-*-*

The sound of a dirt bike coming up the road broke you out of the world you were emersied in. You had been reading your new book on the creaky old porch swing on the porch outside. Enjoying the evening coolish before sunset.

At first, you thought it was JJ coming home, but then you realised he'd come home an hour ago with John B and Pope. You could hear them laughing in the house.

"JJ?!" You called into the window open as you stood up, placing your book on your blanket. "Are you guys expecting anyone?"

You were a little nervous as unplanned visits from people not in the Twinkie or Kie's car normally meant your father or JJ had caused trouble.

The rider stopped a few feet away, and your eyes widened in shock as Rafe Cameron removed his helmet. His hair tousled from the helmet and his cheeks little pink.

"Rafe?" You frowned and hugged your hoodie around your body as you hid your hands in your sleeves.

He looked a little unsure of himself as he walked over to you, a cotton tote bag in his hand. "These are for you." He held the bag out to you as he glanced around, not looking at you directly.

You took the bag, completely confused before gasping as you looked inside. It was the books you had to leave at the store.

Before you even had a chance to question it or say thank you, the screen door burst open as JJ came flying out "What the fuck are you doing here, Kook?"

You tried to pull him back as he got right in Rafe’s face "Jayj. Stop"

JJ looked between you and Rafe "What the fuck did he say to you?" He asked you before turning to Rafe again "What'd you say?"

"What's it to you, Pogue" Rafe looked like he was trying to hold back his anger but with JJ right in his personal space it was hard.

"Stay away from my sister, pretty boy" JJ pushed Rafe a little "Get the fuck outta here"

John B and Pope appeared in the doorway but before they could back up JJ, you got between the two that were squaring up to each other.

You stood with your back to Rafe as you spoke to JJ but could feel him breathing heavily behind you.

"Jayj. Go back inside" You sighed and got annoyed as he stared at Rafe over your head "JJ, go the fuck back inside. I will call if I need you"

It took you actually pushing JJ a little for him to snap out of it. He looked at you before nodding "He tries anything. We beat him. He's on our terf now"

You rolled your eyes "I'm sure, he won't. But sure, you boys can protect your territory if needed"

You knew Rafe was taking a risk being in The Cut, especially after the stunt he pulled the other week. You knew why the boys were bitter as you hadn't been too happy either after finding out he'd jumped Pope at the Country Club.

You watched JJ walk backwards and stand on the porch with the others. You sighed before turning to face Rafe.

"I can't take these." You held the bag out to him, but he stook his head.

"They're yours," He said, rubbing the neck of his neck. He seemed nervous and not because of the boys glaring at him from the porch. "Bin them, read them, do whatever you want with them."

You looked in the bag again before smiling. "Thank you, Rafe." You smiled at him.

"I better go." He sighed after nodding at your thanks. He looked like he wanted to say more but walked back to his bike

"Bye," JJ yelled. "Don't come back. The Cu- Ow!" You cut him off as you shoved into his shoulder

"You guys are fucking unbelievable" You muttered walking into the house, leaving them looking offerened at each other.

As you sat on your bed, you pulled the books out of the bag before finding a note, tucked into one of them. Your heart fluttered as you read it.

'I would buy you all the books in the world, just to see that smile - R'

[tnsophiaonly]

HATED - SAGAU.

In which Self-Aware Genshin People loathe your existence and believe that you're the founding reason why they're not real.

-

Tired of this obsessive and lovesick creator or impostor SAGAU? Then what about this alternate? Be wary, it's dark and we'll mentions of torture something ig idk

Basically. This is impostor AU and the real creator who looks like you is horrible af. And you're an actual impasta.

Special mentions (♡): @sleepparalasis @haru-tofuu

--

Hatred. That's all they could feel when they see your face throughout the screen. Amusement. When they see your face wrinkle in pain and frustration when you get a standard character in through wishing or when you get the wrong stats in artifacts. After all, you were the one that made that right? You were the sole reason for your own pain, you made them in a fictional universe, where nothing is real. You're horrible for that and you should take the consequences of such.

That's why you're transported in this place, in which you thought the world was heaven before became your most terrorful nightmare. Hell, just like how it should be. Teyvat is hell. An upside down world, ruled by gods-demons and filled with darkness and pain. The world you created. Right? That's your fault. Your fault alone.

---

"Oh great heavens, that's cold..." you chatted out, freezing and shaking because of the cold. You face the wrath of the Cryo Archon's Nation. The home of the so-called organization, Fatui. Snow and ice were evident everywhere. And the cold, the cold was for sure affecting you. (Especially if you live in tropical areas or close to the equator? I feel so sorry for you)

Any bits of liquid that could be created were frozen within milliseconds. So you're sobbing just makes it worse, maybe if you actually used your feet and moved and found a place to heat yourself up instead of shining and sobbing, you could probably be in a great condition right now.

But you chose to cry. Pathetic really. And you expect this to be an impostor of me? The so great, almighty creator of The Genshin Universe? Absolutely not. I'd rather guide the Traveller to the absolute truth of this world at a fast pace than be, represented by you.

But fear not, I am sure I am able to at least give some potential to you... OFCOURSE I can do it. It's me after all.

But now i should really have this pathetic excuse of an impostor of mine to.. move and do something rather than cry and freeze to death. After all, I can't have my ungrateful people of Teyvat run after a very obvious impostor who's close to dying eh?

So, much to my dismay, I chose to give you guidance, see? Such a kind creator, you're a very lucky fella..

"ah-aaachoo-!" You sneezed, it feels like something just happened, but what? And why? Those questions are left unanswered. As you unconsciously started moving your freezing feet to walk and find some shelter to heat up.

Oh how the torturous snow storm causes you pain and despair. Why were you striving forward anyways? Your whole body aches. It hurts. Why. Why.

"You deserved it." The inner within of the core speaks.

You deserved it..? Why?

No one answers.

----

After walking away which felt like centuries, you finally are met with a bonfire, a large one in fact, the only problem was that it's within a fatui camp. Oh god...

"Well, well, well.. what's a worm like you doing here for?" A taunting and mocking tone says so to you. Oh my Lord, oh it just couldn't get worse thab this, bits of electricity shocked you slowly, you were feeling the wrath of The Balladeer, the 6th Fatui Harbinger. You could only stay in your spot as you feel electro build up within you, hurting you, killing you.

You're sweating bullets of fear just turns to ice because of the environment, it was no use to run.

"Well well comrade, what's with the guest? I didn't know you were quite the welcomer!" A mocking and sarcastic voice taunted the hat guy, which earned him a glare for, the ginger bread- hair man had a boyish charm and looks, almost looking innocent if you didn't know better. Well guess it got worse.

The ginger head guy's eyes widen, as his taunting smile quickly turns into a frown. The mocking gaze turns into a face of anger, annoyance.

"Is that..." he muttered, bewildered and angry. The ginger guy quickly launched unto you, with bloodlust and wrath causing you to flinch, that's before the entire electricity builds up within you and completely shocked you to oblivion, and the ginger's defense mechanism, of course he backed down.

The electro flowing within you caused so much pain, overbearing pain, yet you did not scream. You did not scream in pain. That one thing The Balladeer was hoping for. Maybe the shock was too strong you couldn't scream at all? Yeah, that's it..

The electro shock died down, and you passed out on the spot. Yet you were still not dead. Despite the fact that electro burns were evident, and that you were crisped to the spot, you're still alive. How lucky, or should I say unlucky?

The ginger- you know what I'm tired of calling him ginger, it's Childe. Childe went close to your passed out body. Caressing your electro-burned hand, before gripping it.

A bone crack was heard, oh did he crack it too hard? No worries, he doesn't care. The fatui skirmishers walked close to the place "We'll take care of it Lord Tartaglia." The pyro agent spoke.

"No." The Balladeer protested, as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your head to look at him, ofcourse you're still passed out, and you had an expression of sorrow, The Balladeer could just smirk. It's the creator.

"I could make use of our Grace after all..." He spoke sinisterly. The agents were on the edge and so was Childe, it really was the creator, they were so close to jumping and killing you on the spot if it weren't for the fact that The Balladeer was there.

-----

The sound of chains vibrated throughout the dungeon, sweet little breaths and movements.

You looked around, it was pitch black and only one candle was the source of light, which was out of reach for you.

A swarming and overwhelming feeling of cold and warm was brushed against you, the electro infused chains hurt when you try to make even the slightest movement, why were you here? Don't act stupid, you're aware why.

You could partly hear the conversation outside. It sounded a lot like the fatui agents earlier, it seems they were discussing either transporting you or guarding you still.

Your breath hitches—which echoed in the room— when they mentioned Il Dottore. They're not planning on giving you to him right...?

You could feel yourself sweating bullets, your eyes showed fear as your expression scrunches into fear. There's a 50/50 chance, but you've always lost your 50-50!

The door opens, and someone steps inside, a blue haired fellow, walking slowly and causing an intense atmosphere. You could feel yourself shaken, not because of him, but because everything feels colder. At least that's what's on your mind.

The blue haired fellow caressed your chin. And forcibly made you look at him.

"My, what a wondrous pet The Balladeer has taken upon."

[sh1nsoukoku]

idk I just love the idea of a trio made up of Tachihara, Chuuya and Atsushi. they are all characters that give me scruffy street kid vibes. like imagine them all at 14-15 surviving together in the slums and being friends. i just think they all would have this boyish charm and playfulness to them that isn’t really expressed much in canon…. like I just want to see them make up silly games and play makeshift street soccer and wrestle and dare each other to do funny stupid things and then pass out on each other worn out from the day. let them be boys together!!!

[frudoo]

A Moth Into Flame — Simon “Ghost” Riley

Y’all… this one is sloppy and kinda lazy??? Idk I had a plan but then it kinda crumbled. If there are plot holes or it just doesn’t make sense… it is what it is LMAO. 🫶

Warnings: SMUT, fem!reader, unprotected PIV, creampie, Simon giving poor reader whiplash but she’s fine with it I guess

MDNI

You can smell his cologne even over the pungent aroma of your whiskey, and you suddenly wish that you had just stayed home. Your body tenses at the sound of those all-too-familiar combat boots hitting the floor. He doesn’t allow himself to be heard unless he wants to make his presence known—he always has been deliberate. You feel the unmistakable coarseness of his hands resting themselves on your shoulders before gently grazing their way down your bare arms. You try to hide the shudder that runs through your body, but he sees. He always sees.

“Save a seat f’you,” he whispers, his voice a soft breath against the shell of your ear.

He trails his hand down the curve of your spine to give your ass a firm squeeze, and as quickly as he had approached, he’s gone. You choke down the rest of your whiskey quickly, ignoring the searing burn it leaves in your esophagus. Your eyes scan the bar for the large, imposing figure you’ve grown to know far too well before finding him in the round booth near the back. He’s with his mates, of course, the ones he never lets you say hello to before he’s pulling you out of the bar and taking you back to his apartment.

Those deep molasses eyes beckon you over without having to say a word. Yeah, you should’ve stayed home, because you know exactly how this night is going to end.

Silently you approach, grimacing at the feeling of the cracked red leather of the booth scratching the backs of your thighs as you slid in beside Simon. He wasn’t having that. A strong tattooed arm wraps itself around your waist and pulls you onto his lap. His mitts unashamedly squeeze your supple tits before ultimately resting on your waist. You jab him in the gut with your elbow, but he only gives you an amused grunt in response.

“Finally lettin’ us meet yer lass, LT?” The mohawked man raises an eyebrow, sucking his teeth as he looks you over. “She’s bonnie.”

Simon shrugs, tilting his head to press a kiss to the side of your face through his mask. Despite the fact that the guy had been looking at you like a piece of meat, there was something charming about him, blue eyes holding a boyish innocence, but the smirk he wears gives away his true nature. There’s something captivating about all of the roguish men, but none quite as… alluring as the enigma whose lap you sit on.

The other two men say nothing about your presence and instead shift the conversation back to something you can’t understand. Not that you’d be able to focus, anyway, with the way Simon’s grasping your hips to move you over slightly when he wants to take a drink or add something to the discussion. His hands are so warm that you can feel it through the thin fabric of your dress, and it excites you more than you’d like to admit. You know what those hands can do.

He’s distracted, taken a break from tormenting you with those gentle touches, but it doesn’t help the white-hot desire that’s been building up in your belly, fogging up your head. To go from too much attention to too little won’t do at all. You can beat him at his own game.

You pretend to listen to whatever the bearded man with the weird hat is saying, not looking to draw any attention to yourself—at least, not from anyone other than Simon. You reach forward to grab a pretzel from the bowl on the table, pushing your ass back to deliberately rub against his crotch. He grunts and gives your hip a squeeze, a warning. Bingo. You feign ignorance and lean forward again, this time rolling your hips to add some more friction.

Simon tugs on the ends of your hair to tip your head back, a threatening undertone in his murmur.

“Playin’ a dangerous game there, bird.”

You snicker, giving another grind of your ass against his growing erection—pouring gasoline onto the fire. His fingertips dig into the flesh of your hips almost painfully, and his bark is a little sharper now, more akin to a bite.

“Fuckin’ quit it.”

A moth into flame.

“Make me.”

That’s all it takes before you’re forced out of the booth, his large hand splayed across your lower back as he ushers you through the crowd, toward the bathroom. You turn to look at his mates over your shoulder, and the one in the ball cap gives you a cheeky wink right before the door slams shut and the only thing in your view is Simon with his balaclava pulled up just above his nose. Without warning, he slams your back against the wall and kisses you with a fervor you’ve only felt in more private areas with him. You moan against his lips, moving to wrap your arms around his neck, but he’s quicker, pinning your wrists above your head to keep you in place.

“Gonna teach y’some bloody manners,” he grumbles against your skin, nipping his way down your jawline and neck. “I like my pets domesticated.”

You gasp as he delivers a particularly harsh bite right to the middle of your throat, spit-slick tongue scalding against the wound. It’ll leave a nasty bruise but you couldn’t care less, clenching your thighs together in an attempt to get some much-needed friction. Simon tuts, briefly nibbling on your lobe before muttering into your ear.

“Spread ‘em.”

A simple command, but you scramble to obey, a soft whine escaping your parted lips. He’s quick to move his free hand down your stomach and between your thighs, cupping your mound roughly. You buck your hips, clothed clit rubbing right up against the heel of his palm. He groans, releasing your wrists to cusp your jaw instead.

“Knickers are fuckin’ soaked, lovie. All f’me?” His dark eyes bore into your own, fingernails leaving creases in the flesh of your cheek.

“All for you,” you reply breathlessly, grabbing onto his biceps to brace yourself for what comes next.

Simon pushes your panties aside and swipes the tip of his middle finger through your slit to collect the sticky dew of your arousal. He circles your clit a few times before teasing your entrance. He swirls his fingertip before pushing inside, all the way to the knuckle. He huffs amusedly at the mewl you let out.

“Mm, she’s droolin’ f’me, baby,” he whispers, his other hand cupping the back of your head and pulling you in for another kiss.

Without warning, he slips another finger inside, curling them to hit that sweet spot perfectly. You let out a keen moan and tilt your head back, too absorbed in pleasure to acknowledge the dull pain that comes when you hit the wall. Simon smiles, licking the tip of your nose teasingly.

“Tha’s the spot,” Simon coos, mouth falling open in the same fashion as yours.

His eyes never leave your face, transfixed on every twitch of your eyebrows and quiver of your lips. He’d argue that he’s more drunk on you than the whiskey he’d been enjoying just a few minutes ago. He pumps his fingers quicker, harder, attacking your neck with more soft kisses and nips. He chuckles when he feels your gummy walls clamping onto his fingers, your nails digging into the flesh of his biceps and leaving half-moons as a result. Simon doesn’t mind.

“Y’close, baby?” He hums, pulling away from your neck to press his forehead against yours.

“Y-yeah,” you pant, opening your eyes to stare into his, deep, dark with desire and burning with passion.

“Cum f’me,” he whispers, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and massaging your g-spot in mind-numbing thrusts of those thick fingers. “There y’go, lovie, squeeze m’fingers jus’ like tha’.”

Simon moans alongside you as you reach your peak, lips curling into a pleased smirk. The second he feels your walls ease up he pulls his fingers out, causing a whine to slip out of your throat. He clicks his tongue, fingertips wrapping around your throat and squeezing gently.

“On your knees.”

You do as he says, glazed eyes just barely making out the sight of his veiny hands unbuckling his belt. Simon pulls his cock free of its confines, hissing at the sensation of cold air hitting the sensitive skin. His tip is an angry fuschia, dripping rich pearls of precum, and fuck—he must have been just as desperate as you. You’re still in a daze from the blinding ecstasy he put you through, staring at his pretty dick with your hands resting in your lap. He cocks an eyebrow beneath his mask, snapping his fingers at you.

“Well? Y’wanted this fuckin’ cock so bad, so suck it,” he spits, pulling your hair into a messy ponytail and guiding your head towards his throbbing erection.

Pulled out of your hazy state, you stick out your tongue the way you know he loves, grabbing the base of his dick and pulling down the thin layer of foreskin to reveal the thick crown beneath. You smack the tip against the middle of your tongue, moaning in unison with its owner as you stare up at him through fluttering lashes. Simon looks so fucking good like this—one hand tangled in your hair, the other bracing himself on the cool wall behind you. Unable to resist any longer, you wrap your lips around the tip and suckle softly, swiping your tongue through the slit to collect all of that delicious, salty precum.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Simon grunts, chin falling to rest right above his clavicle, drooping eyes focusing on your own. “Always take me so well.”

You smile the best you can with your mouth full, resting your hands on his muscular thighs before taking him deeper. You’re always surprised by his girth no matter how many times you hook up—such a fat cock that your lips have to stretch almost painfully to accommodate. He grunts as you flatten your tongue on the bottom of his dick, massaging the bulging vein and hollowing your cheeks for better suction. One of your hands moves up to cup his balls in your palm, gently squeezing. He shudders and you feel his cock twitch in your mouth; he’s already so close.

“Enough,” Simon pants, tightening his grip on your hair and carefully pulling your mouth off of his cock with a wet pop. “Fuck. What the ‘ell are you doin’ t’me, woman?”

You smile as he cups your cheeks in his hands, pulling you in for a feverish kiss. His tongue prods your mouth, running across your teeth and tongue and everywhere he can reach. Then, he stops, giving your ass a sharp smack.

“Turn around and bend over tha’ sink,” he instructs breathlessly, before deciding that would take too long, instead grabbing your hips and manhandling you into position.

You barely get any warning before he’s shoving your dress up to your waist and tearing off your panties. You gasp and turn to glare at him over your shoulder, but he’s already pocketing the ruined fabric.

“M’sorry, lovie. I’ll buy a new pair f’you… ‘ell, I’ll buy anythin’ y’want. Jus’ let me… ah fuck!” Simon throws his head back as he slides to the hilt inside of you in one blissful, searing stroke.

“Fuck!” You whimper, the painful stretch of your cunt struggling to suck him in causing you to hold onto the cold porcelain for dear life.

Simon wastes no time before starting to pump in and out slowly, giving you just a pinch of time to adjust. Then he takes hold of your hips and ruts into you with reckless abandon, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood trying to stifle his moans. You’re not so careful about your volume, squealing and babbling with every thrust he deals. He grunts, moving one hand to cover your mouth, pulling you back into his chest.

“Tha’ whore mouth o’yours is gonna get us in trouble,” he grumbles through gritted teeth though makes no effort to let up on his devastating thrusts.

“Drive me bloody fuckin’ insane, y’know tha’? Perfect, pretty baby, no fuckin’ good f’me.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as the fat tip of his cock kisses your sweet spot with perfect precision. Every stroke, every whisper, every smack of his hips against your ass has you seeing stars. You can feel the mascara and sweat dripping down your face, and you get the feeling that your hair looks just as fucked. You turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror, wiping away the fog to watch as Simon fucks you absolutely stupid. You meet his gaze in the reflection and he snickers, pulling the straps of your dress down so that your tits spill out from the fabric.

“Yeah, y’know you’re fuckin’ sexy,” he mutters, alternating between roughly palming at your breasts and tweaking your pert nipples. “Such a hot mess f’me.”

You’re dangerously close, teetering on the edge of that earth-shattering euphoria, and you know that Simon knows—that’s why you let out a defeated sob when he pulls out of you completely, leaving your pussy to clench around the newfound emptiness.

“W-why did you-?”

“Haven’t learned your lesson yet, bird,” he sniffs, grabbing a handful of your disheveled hair and tugging your head backwards so that his lips meet your ear. “Apologize for teasin’ me in front o’my mates like tha’.”

“Simon, please,” you beg, hot tears streaming down your rosy cheeks.

Simon tuts, giving your ass a couple of sharp smacks. You yelp, body jolting forward with each painful contact.

“Apologize.”

“I’m sorry!” You whine, fingertips prying at the sink as he glides the head of his cock through your glistening folds.

“For wha’?” He kisses his way down your neck, giving both nipples a rough pinch.

“For teasing you in- in front of your friends,” you mumble, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as his tip catches on the hood of your puffy clit.

“There’s m’good girl,” he purrs, running his hands down to your waist and giving it a soft squeeze. “Next time y’act up like tha’, you’re not gettin’ off this easy.”

“Please make me cum,” your bottom lip quivers as your eyes meet in the mirror once again, desperate for him to tame the fire he’s ignited in your belly and heart.

“Turn back around,” Simon whispers, stepping back to give you room to obey. “Wanna see tha’ pretty face when y’do.”

You turn to face him and wrap your arms around his neck, gasping softly as he cups your bottom in his hands, hoisting you up. He presses your back to the wall with your legs around his waist and kisses you again, but it’s much more tender than the previous ones. He gasps into your mouth as he pushes inside of you again, hands still firmly on your ass to keep you secure as he builds up a pace once more.

“Fuckin’ love you, y’know tha’?” He murmurs against your lips between kisses, his groans turning into softer moans as he gets closer to his climax. “Never jus’ a bloody hookup t’me.”

“S-Simon-” you furrow your eyebrows, pulling back to look at him, shocked by his confession.

“M’sick of actin’—shit—like this is jus’ a good fuck. We both know it’s no’,” he heaves, lewd wet sounds bouncing off the walls as he quickens his pace. “No more fuckin’ lyin’. You’re mine.”

The back of your head falls against the hard wall as you feel the coil in your tummy about to snap, walls contracting around his cock so tightly, like they’re trying to force him out.

“There y’go, pretty baby. Cum f’me, yeah? Fuck, please cum f’me. Cum on my cock, lovie, y’can do it.”

That’s all it takes before you’re crying out his name, your entire body feeling weightless and whole all at the same time. You think that Simon’s moans might be louder than your own, whimpering into your ear and you swear that you heard a sob right before he came. He holds himself deep inside of you as ropes of hot, thick semen fill your womb, refusing to move until the air finally settles between the two of you. He presses his forehead against yours once again, honeyed brown eyes staring into your glossy ones.

“I meant tha’. Every bloody word,” he admits, nuzzling his nose against your sweaty cheek. “You’re m’girl.”

Simon carefully pulls out of you with a gross squelch, helping you back onto your feet. He repositions your straps so that your breasts are in place and covered once again, as you tuck his softening cock back into his pants and buckle his belt. He cups your face in his hands and grins softly, wiping away the black-stained tears on your face with his thumbs.

“Come home with me tonight?” You ask gently, leaning into his touch.

“Always.”

[glowstick-cafe]

♡Across the Spiderverse: Relationship Hc's♡

Pavitr Prabhakar x reader

Genre: Fluff, SFW

Warnings: Pavitr being the only guy ever, reader is gender neutral, reader is a poc 🤷

Summary: Idk man I'm just raw dogging this till I hit a wall, bc brainrot be like that sometimes.

_______________________________________

You met Pavitr while he was changing out of his hero costume.

It was an accident! There was an attack near your school that halted the day, luckily, spiderman was there to help save the day.

Though it took a you a minute to recollect your emotions after that very scarring experience(you will have to speak to your therapist about this), you decided that it would be a great idea to go to the bathroom where upon enter you see Pavitr, the boy in the class next to yours changing into his uniform and a spiderman costume laid near the sink. "Oh heck-"

After a lot of explaining ang gifts of bribery(boyish charm included) over the course of a month you began dating the boy. Yeah you, dating spiderman, crazy right?

When you began dating him, Pavitr would info dump about tea because his aunt did the same to him, it was a vicious cycle.

His nose would scrunch up everytime you got a fact about something wrong, but he never dares to correct you.

Expect random peck on your cheek throughout the day, but kisses on the lips fluster him too much.

"I love you." "Mhmm.." "Say it back!" You have to say it back or he will make it a problem for the rest of the day.

Pavitr will always stare at you while you do your last minute assignments, he already did his but he likes seeing you look messy while you're rushing to turn in work that is due in an hour.

"It's easy being spiderman!" Is what he always says, but he hates being spiderman when it makes you stay up waiting for him.

Sometimes when he comes home late at night, he meets your sleeping body in his bed, he hums in delight at the sight and lays next to you; watching your breathing as it rises and falls.

[qvrcll]

spider boy, king of thieves.

ART CREDITS > @/J7VUA on twitter

re2r ! spider-man ! leon kennedy x gn reader

summary: in danger, you’re left with clouded eyes and brandished limbs littered with bruises. that is, until, a certain person coloured in red comes to the rescue, cuing your awe and possibly an inkling of a certain feeling.

warning: mentions of kidnapping, bruises, heights

a/n: i’ve been having the thought of rookie ! re2r leon x spider-man in my mind for soo long and this fanart basically catalysed this blurb. i’m thinking of writing a part 2 or perhaps another post, but idk! lmk lovelies :)

When you’d first opened your eyes, a stinging sort of pain had clouded your judgement of the situation. Your arms were caked with gruelling blood and dirt, your eyelids heavy with a pending urge to lay down and exhaust yourself into a deep sleep.

But the sky had gone gray, glittering with a crackling noise that shook the ground; only then did you realise you were outdoors. Cold, clothes possibly ripped to some degree. And the feeling of aversion had done its business pressing into you.

“S-Shit…” you cursed, jumbled in the mess that was, for once, not of your making. Much energy had been spent trying to free yourself of your tight reigns, ropes that bound your wrists till they bled nothing but hurt. Your eyes burned with weak tears, distorting the plain of captivity.

You’d been kidnapped — and worse, there was no end point in sight.

Fuck, you think.

This is it, you think.

This is how I die, you think.

And when you feel the cold press of rain hit your head, pounding to no impending relief at all, warm arms scoop you into a strong, selfishly mellow grasp so thin you might break.

“I got you,” A masculine voice speaks. It’s so seemingly far away, but when you reopen your eyes, you’re met with two large whites for eyes and a tepid, red suit.

And then it computes… spider-man?

“I—“ You start, unresolved with your conflict, but remaining confused with your thoughts.

Is this reality? Were you being saved by the spider-man?

“You okay?” he whispers through the mask, webbing through nervous buildings, arms clinching around you like gold.

He glances down once more, and the mystery makes him alluring, kind to the mind but grievous to your curiosity. You want to peel the mask, when he places you down on your balcony, safe from harm’s way. You want to know who is hiding within that mellow suit, donned with bravery and boyish charm so new it hurts.

“Wait—“ you stop him by the wrist. He glances back, surprised. His face twitches when you come close - “I won’t force you to reveal yourself,” you whisper, reassuring, before sweetly placing a kiss on his cheek.

“That’s for saving me,” his hand feels the area you’d just kiss like it had changed his life and you giggle. He stifles a chuckle and takes your hand softly, fleshing it with a kiss so soft it burnt.

As he retreats, with words of stay safe and take care’s, you’re left clutching the railing for dear life as he departs with a final swing.

What you don’t catch is that he’s landed on the balcony three floors underneath you, wrenching the mask from his head to free his head of blonde hairs — and he, with his flushed cheeks and eyes of cobalt, seems to comparable to the newest recruit in the Raccoon City Police Department, Leon Kennedy.

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[ddollfface]

𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲

𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙞 𝙊𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙝𝙞 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

Warnings; bad writing, might be ooc (don't come at me lol), not proofread, obsessional behavior, idk if this is really Yandere tbh, honestly, this is just be dipping my toes into fanfiction... If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ I've only watched the tv shows, so all of my information comes from that and the wiki. If anyone knows where to read the manga, then please message me! Also, this is inspired by @mothwingwritings and @yandere-writer-momo ♡

Throughout the series, Katsumi is shown to be loyal to those he deems close and important to him. One of these people is Karate (I suppose, it's a thing, but whatever). Even when faced with people he respects, like Retsu, he refuses to give it up, to deny the power it has. This is shown during the tournament saga where Retsu demands that Katsumi admit that Chinese Kenpō is superior to Karate, of course, he denies it.

Now, what does this say about Katsumi? Well, it shows that when he feels loyalty towards someone/something, he'll cling to it and fight for it until his last breath. Katsumi is strong-willed, and never gives in without a fight; he fights for others' honor. He's been shown to have a vengeance streak, where he'll seek out those he's deemed to have defamed the people he holds dear to him.

He's very smooth with his words and has a boyish charm to him, allowing you to drop your guard when you really shouldn't. His sheepish smile and constant cocky appeal cause you to feel relaxed and underestimate him, forgetting that he's a dangerous man who could snap you in half with his pinky. It's really too easy for him to find where you live, sneak into your apartment, and watch you. All without you noticing; how sweet of you. You don't even realize that Katsumi has grown so attached, not noticing how close he sticks to your side or how his eyes darken whenever you talk to Retsu or Katou (if he ever comes around).

I can imagine Katsumi with most types of darlings, but I think he'd lean towards darlings who are a Good Samaritan. How they show that empathetic behavior solely depends on their personality. You don't have to be energetic and bubbly to be a good person and to help others, instead, you can be quiet and timid. You can be a little colder, but as long as you're willing to step in and help others when they're in need, even if you might put yourself in danger, Katsumi will ultimately find you attractive and court you.

I think that the empathetic characteristic is the root of his attraction, seeing you be so kind and caring just makes his heart swell. He knows you're a good person, and that's what makes you so attractive. Well, you're appearance is also a key factor, but ignore that.

Katsumi just wants someone selfless and willing to put themselves on the line for others, no matter if they know the person or not, as he knows that they'd make a good partner, a good mama. That's ultimately Katsumi's goal in life: to have a family. I subscribe to the headcanon that Katsumi has a breeding kink and he loves children; I don't care what anybody says.

There's no doubt in my mind that he's a loverboy who just wants someone to love, but things go wrong when that love isn't recognized or reciprocated. Not only that, but Katsumi's love can be... overbearing, to say the least. He can get a little too excited, especially when he's around you. And that's when his boyish nature comes in. He becomes too aggressive with his courting tactics (this is similar to Ali Jr. and Baki, me thinks).

These three guys, especially Katsumi, have been shown to be a little blinded by arrogance and their youth (not saying that other characters, who are older, haven't). They're all in their early twenties, and Katsumi being twenty in the Pickle saga, meaning they don't have a lot of experience with women.

Now that we're on the topic of experience, I think that Katsumi has been on dates with women, talked to women, and flirted with women. I mean, look at him. He's attractive, both physically and emotionally, and he's in the prime of his life. Not only that, but he's the adoptive son of Doppo Orochi, though I doubt that matters to most girls, but whatever. This means that he's got money, a lot of it. Doppo's wealth has been reiterated throughout the series that Katsumi is a spoiled kid, and I see that point.

So there's no denying that girls are attracted to him, and I think Katsumi isn't afraid to go up to women; he's quite charismatic. But why doesn't he have a girl? I think that's partially because of his dedication to his martial arts, making it difficult to maintain a relationship, and most girls wouldn't stick around for that. Now, that factor wipes out half of his dating pool, making it difficult for him to have anything but a one-night stand or a few dates.

He can't help but long for someone deeper, long for someone who truly cares for him. Katsumi wants someone who needs him, and relies on him to be provided for, and cared for. He wants to be acknowledged for his hard work, how calloused his hands are, and how good of a leader he strives to be. He just wants someone who'd be his cheerleader, someone who'd support him the way he'd support them.

This drive and desperate need for someone causes him to act irrationally when he finally finds someone even close to his dreams. It doesn't matter where or when you meet, whether it's before or after he's lost his arm, as long as he feels that recognition, he's lovestruck.

(This is where I go off on a tangent, I'm so sorry)

I've read a book called Blink, by Malcolm Gladwell, and it's all about humans and how we think as a species. He goes on and on about this thing called thin slicing. Thin slicing is an ability that all humans have, something we've developed through years of evolution, and it's the ability to make a split-second decision (on a situation or person) based off of little information. According to Gladwell, we do this every day. Thin slicing is fueled by our fight or flight response, more so whether or not we fight, fight, or freeze.

Gladwell says that the moment we make eye contact with someone, or speak a singular word with someone, we've already decided whether or not we like them or not, whether or not we'll befriend them. In multiple studies, Gladwell cites, he says that you can determine whether or not a couple will have a long-lasting relationship just based off of one conversation, a conversation that's no more than a minute long.

It's all about subconscious cues we give off when we speak, much like the phrase 'actions speak louder than words.' Certain cues attract people to each other, unknowing actions that we do that pull others toward us.

Honestly, it's a really interesting thing, and I think that because a lot of Baki men rely on their instincts, and they use thin slicing in every one of their fights, they'll use their instincts to determine who their darlings are. If you were to ask any of the Baki men, in this hypothetical world where they have a darling, I think they wouldn't be able to answer. That they wouldn't know. And that's because it was an instinctual decision, something they knew subconsciously the moment they met you, you, you.

There was just something about you that drew them in, and they would be able to give a broad definition, but they wouldn't be able to tell specifics. And that's the beauty of attraction, so if you think about it, love at first sight is a real thing, yeah?

End of tangent

Because of this, he'll take any one of your interactions and dramatize them. You say that it's cold outside? Now, he thinks you're trying to hint to him that you want his jacket (you don't; you were making small talk). You say that you think his hair looks nice today? Welp, that means you must want to play with his hair, right (Natsue just told you he got a haircut). Hell, your shoulders brush against each other while you two are walking? You're practically telling him that you want a hug! (No, you just were too close to the street).

The point is that any normal reaction or conversation is used to fuel his obsession with you. Within a few weeks of knowing each other, he's thinking that you're going to be the mama of his children. There's no doubt in his mind that you're meant to be. Katsumi will even look at your zodiacs. Did you know that you two are compatible? What a coincidence. It must be fate.

[iovesia]

Idk if I’m messaging right, but for ‘erotic horrors” can it be prompt 9 with John wick? Hides away

young!john wick + predator/prey.

Run.

Breathe.

Run.

Don’t get lost. Don’t get hurt. Don’t get caught.

The bottom of your feet felt as though they just walked over hot coal. The cruel Russian winds etching borderline frostbite on your soft skin. Your lungs inhaling ice— you couldn’t stop for even one second.

Not one chance to let him catch you. The Director’s protégé, and latest creation: Jardani.

“Find her, Jardani,” The Director’s calm and collected tone was all Jardani needed to hear before gearing up. He was gonna find you; dead or alive.

You were running through the desolate cold woods for what felt like hours, only covered in a muddied and torn leotard. Every turn you made, you prayed you hadn’t spotted those predatory eyes.

Stupidly, a loud thud echoes through the forest when your frail wearing body met the dirty ground. Pain blooms in your side, as you let out a soft hiss.

Snap.

Like a meerkat, your head jumps up to the sudden sound. He was here.

Quiet footsteps muffled your vehement panting and you hurriedly tried to stand back up. But you could barely push up on your knees before feeling a hard boot to the back.

Your face met the snow, and you let out a defeated cry. He caught you.

“J-Jardani—“ the words fall weakly from your cracked lips, and your hand trembles as you again try to push up.

“Don’t,” his gruff voice lost that boyish charm it used to have. “It’ll hurt worse.”

He says like he cares.

He doesn’t.

[mobgoblin]

As someone who has steadily kept up on almost all Watcher shows and side projects, this backlash really does come down to how out of touch the guys have become, even before making Friday’s announcement.

Ryan and Shane (certainly the biggest draw to the channel) got their start with lower-brow, boyish humor and riffing off each other. Can’t forget the capitalism-critical and “power to the underdog” attitude that resonated with so many fans early on either. Now though, if you watch/listen to Pod Watcher, it’s hard to overlook just how unrelatable they’ve become in recent years. Which is whatever—it’s not like we only consume media in order to intimately relate to hosts/characters—but it does mean they’ve lost something integral from the charm that netted them their initial success.

To add. If you watched their latest season of Too Many Spirits, they weren’t even funny, just trashed and off-putting, lol. Frat-style drinking by a backyard pool and Ryan overhand throwing bones at a neighbor’s dog for barking.

Maybe not as bad for Shane, but the egos have really grown uncomfortably outsized. And at some point I got tired of watching videos based around lavish over-indulgence. Even if Steven’s videos cost less to produce than Ghost Files (I assume), they clearly rub viewers the wrong way on principle alone.

All in all, and not to minimize their hard work in getting out the content that they do, I think the Watcher guys should’ve been much more careful in considering this move and its rollout.

For years, I’ve maintained a Patreon subscription to a separate and unrelated funny-guy trio (for the same monthly price Watcher Streaming is now asking). However. The group I subscribe to is more than situationally-funny-sometimes, and always come across as grounded, emotionally intelligent, and likable people. Which makes me want to see them succeed and help how I can (though I would still be able to access 95% of their content even without subscribing).

So yeah, idk. Steven Lim driving a Tesla and wanting a second one or whatever is kind of just the tip of the iceberg.

[here2bbtstrash]

yoongi telling Jungkook you have a thing for his nose and Jungkook let’s you ride it 🥲 perhaps yoongi watches too 🤔

i rly did not think i was into nose riding before this but...... welp. consider me yoongi 😂 you know the drill, unedited, i did not read this back, it is probably chaotic lmao

send me some freaky deaky shit i might write it idk idk

pairing: jungkook x reader, ft. voyeur yoongi word count: 1.4k (i had too much fun with the banter at the beginning alright) contains: just a whole lot of face riding/tongue and nose fucking honestly *go to town by doja cat plays in the distance* y'all know i'm always down to write about eating pussy. also yoongi watches/kind of instructs oop 👀

Jungkook is used to people thinking he’s hot. Maybe that’s vain, but it’s the truth.

He’s got a few different categories of attributes that attract people to him, just depending on what they tend to gravitate towards. Some are into the tattoos and the piercings, dark hair pushed back with a few strands falling down, the bad boy energy. Some like him for his boyish charm, big innocent eyes, handsome face. Some have even mentioned his front teeth, which he thinks is a little weird, but y’know. Whatever. If they get him laid, he’s not complaining.

But no one has ever specifically brought up this feature before.

“My nose?!” He’s sure Yoongi is fucking with him.

At least, he thinks so, until he sees the look on your face. You’re sitting on the couch, looking all wholesome in the way that makes him want to fucking devour you, a pretty sundress and bare feet.

Yoongi is sitting sideways on the nearby recliner, already looking done with this conversation. The one he initiated.

“I swear, you give this girl two shots and she’ll tell you every dirty secret she has,” he scoffs.

Jungkook’s eyes go wide as his gaze swivels back to you. “You drank Yoongi’s whiskey?!” He knows firsthand that shit is potent. Two shots would have him nearly under the table.

You giggle a little, clearly nervous. “Mistakes were made.”

“She’s into your nose, dude. I don’t know what to tell you.” Yoongi crosses his hands behind his head with a lazy smirk.

Jungkook stammers, trying to understand, as you flop over onto the couch. “This is so embarrassing,” you groan, face muffled by the cushion. “Do you remember my ex?”

The question alone is enough to make Jungkook’s hands curl into fists at his sides. He hated your ex– would honestly probably fight him on sight. “Yeah,” he manages, doing his best to keep his voice even and unaffected.

“That guy sucked!” Yoongi assesses correctly.

“You’re not wrong,” you admit. “But he had that big nose, right? And when he would go down on me, and especially when I would ride his face…” You trail off, rolling over so Jungkook can see you again.

“I’m confused,” Jungkook says, because he is.

“If you don’t know how to eat pussy, just say that,” Yoongi says with a wry laugh.

“Yours just looks like it would feel really good.”

Jungkook doesn’t understand why he’s needing to be talked into this. The minute you said ride his face, he should’ve been laying flat on the couch with his tongue out.

“I’ll do it right now,” he says, hating the way his voice shakes slightly with excitement. “But I don’t know what I’m doing.” His eyes jump from you to Yoongi, desperate for guidance. “Hyung–”

“Jesus,” Yoongi sighs. “Will you lay down?”

You sit up to give him room and Jungkook wastes no time taking your place spread out on the couch. He tilts his head up to watch you shimmy your panties down and off– they’re lacy and pink and fuck, yep, that’s enough to get him to pop a boner in his sweatpants.

He hopes Yoongi doesn’t mind. Is this weird? This is probably weird.

You pause on your way up to his face, dropping your hips down to sit on his chest, and he can feel the warmth between your legs pressed against him. Fuck, he wants this so bad.

“Just… tap me if I start to suffocate you,” you say with another nervous laugh. “Sometimes I get really into it.”

Jungkook would literally die under your skirt if you’d let him. But he still doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“So… I’m fucking you with my nose?”

You shrug and say, “I mean, you can,” at the same time Yoongi grunts, “no, dumbass!”

Jungkook looks helplessly between the two of you, and Yoongi sighs like he’s hopeless. “Just tongue fuck her. Let her do the rest.” Now those are words Jungkook understands.

He only has a moment to panic about how this is really happening, a fantasy he’s been imagining (and yes, jacking off to) for he doesn’t even know how long, and then your hips are scooting up to lower over his face and his competitive mode kicks in.

Jungkook may have only learned about the concept three seconds ago, but he’s determined to be the best nose ride you’ve ever had.

His hands slip up to grab your ass under your skirt, pulling you flush against him, and your thighs are so fucking soft. Yeah, he could stay here for hours, if you’d let him.

Jungkook circles your entrance with his tongue, wanting to start you off slow and gentle, wanting to treat you right. But then you make this breathy little whimper, and he really can’t control himself. He licks into you like he’s hungry for your pussy, moaning a little at the taste, the feeling of your walls squeezing around his tongue.

It’s all better than he imagined– he doesn’t know how that’s fucking possible.

He’s so caught up in his work, his determination to be the best as he plunges his tongue into you over and over, that he sort of forgets the whole point of this until your hips just barely start to rock.

Your clit bumps against his nose, and ohhhhh. That makes so much fucking sense. Jungkook doesn’t understand why Yoongi couldn’t have just said that.

But fuck, it occurs to him as you start to move that there’s something so insanely hot about this. Being useful to you like this, of service, yours to do whatever you want with– including rub your fucking clit on his nose.

Jungkook has to tell himself to focus so he doesn’t come in his pants.

You’ve fallen into a steady rhythm now, and the amount of arousal you’re working up from grinding your clit against him is truly insane. It’s certainly enough to keep his tongue busy, trying to lap up every last bit, but you’re too fucking wet for him to keep up. He can feel your juices starting to drip down his chin.

Jungkook’s hands on your ass squeeze hard in an attempt to pull you impossibly closer. Fuck breathing. He wants to drown in this.

With a near-growl, Jungkook moves his tongue up until he finds the right texture, pressing down and starting to lick insistent circles against your g-spot. He’s more than a little lost in you, but not so much that he doesn’t hear the way you cry out at the feeling, gasping, swearing, “right fucking there, Jungkook.”

You’re practically bouncing on his face now, onto tongue and nose combined, and he gasps against your pussy, only working his tongue that much harder inside you in return. Deliberate, devouring, sloppy passes, over and over, the whole bottom half of his face drenched with your arousal now.

When your hips start to stutter and your rhythm falters, Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat.

He takes over, fingers digging into the curve of your ass, nodding his head up and down so he can keep nudging at your clit and keep fucking you with his tongue. He doesn’t stop when your hands fist in his hair, doesn’t stop when you let out a moan that’s nearly a sob, and doesn’t stop when he feels your walls start to pulse around him and your arousal gush into his mouth.

You’re the one who finally pulls away, squirming with overstimulation and moving back to your initial seat on his chest. Jungkook can feel your pussy instantly soaking through his t-shirt, and honestly, he’s a little sad to be parted from it.

Though it does also occur to him that he’s fucking lightheaded. Damn. You maybe weren’t kidding about the suffocation thing, but Jungkook genuinely can’t think of a better way to die. The blissed out look on your face right now makes him think it would be worth every one of his last seconds.

“You were better than I thought you’d be.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows nearly shoot off his face at the realization that the compliment did not come from you, but from Yoongi, who is swinging his legs over the arm of the chair and climbing to his feet.

“Welp, thanks for the boner.”

Yoongi is disappearing down the hallway before Jungkook can even think of a response, before he has time to wonder if it’s weird that his hyung just watched him nose fuck someone. Jungkook wipes the back of his hand over his chin and neck, brain still too stupid from drowning in pussy to be able to process any of this.

“Wrap it before you tap it!” Yoongi’s voice echoes back into the living room. “And no jizz stains on the couch – it was expensive!”

[hanasnx]

TELL ME, my dearly beloved, what do we think of dilf anakin? I am crazy obsessed with the thought of him being older but not like stupid old, just old enough where he’s got all that experience, hes had kids, gotten married or whatever this au is. his boyish charm he had in his youth made him cute and of course sweet, but now it’s different, it’s become something a bit more… attractive. Just overall sexier. Like, there’s just something about him that’s so enticing, even if the age gap is pretty big (ofc you’re still an adult) just to know he knows what he’s doing, he’s had plenty of time to learn all the tricks and is all romantic and just so MMMMMMM I want his kids.

Idk all I know is that that man would be so fuckable as a dilf (he’s always fuckable, but you know what I mean)

(((I totally got carried away here)))

i think age gaps are so hot when used in the right circumstances. i do like dilf anakin, i love @anisbaby‘s posts about dilf anakin sm if you’re looking for more content like that. i dont write much dilf content for anakin except i think the parent trap au i did a bit ago where youre essentially “meredith blake” but with more of a realistic twist.

☥ the experience is definitely so hot like he just knows how to please you immediately he never needed a training run like younger anakin would have. its like hes already memorized your body and all its buttons just because he and his ex wife had crazy amounts of informational sex (look at padme and tell me she wasn’t a horn dog that rarely let her husband have a spare moment to himself without hopping on his dick and ordering him how to please her— he loved every second)

☥ ur right he would be so romantic. he’d love secluded dinners, he’d try cooking for you (whenever i imagine dilf anakin i always imagine him rich? hes got rich vibes). he loves being your sugar daddy and playfully teasing you about how if you dont fuck him right now he’ll withhold your allowance.

☥ also the fact i know he plays coy before you tell him you like him and want his cock and his babies—

got this glint in his eye every time he notices your subtle flirts. “oh yeah?” and checks you out, rewarding you when you make your attraction known to him.

☥ at one point he just has to confirm it “got a thing for older men?”

“i can’t explain it. something about experience adds to it.”

“well, you’re welcome to try me on for size.”

☥ i feel like i have more to say on this but its stuffed inside @starmanskywalker’s and i’s collab we’ve been working on 🤭🤭 we’re very excited to put it out. so stay tuned for that for more dilf anakin content 💕