Absolutely NO ONE Wants To Hang Out With Florian At The Manor. He Doesn't Have A Reputation With Them,

Can I rq some nsfw mike morton hcs? Thank u!! 💕

☆ mike morton ; general sfw & nsfw headcanons

pairing / mike morton x afab gn! reader

disclaimer / kinkwear, strap-ons, mentions of roleplay, food play

word count / 1,369 words

author's note / i went a bit overboard while writing up the draft of this so i included the sfw headcanons (he's my main in identity v so i was super happy to get this request, thank you anon.). this man is KINKY. he'll be the type to go "zoo wee mama!" when you take off your top and i'm a adamant believer of that.

☆ mike morton, with his impressive set of skills showcasing for all to see. everyone can agree his ability of an acrobat is far too overqualified as each show, there is always a different sort of opening act that mike produced. and yet, that is all there is to him people would say. as the true star, sergei, the backbone of the circus. and with this information that everyone knows all too well, there comes insecurity.

☆ mike is an insecure man, despite not showing it. even he refuses to acknowledge that fact that really, every fiber of his being is burning with jealousy and the fear of abandonment. he will do anything to keep his stability and position at the circus.

☆ that doesn’t mean mike isn’t naturally a lively, bright faced man. in fact, that personality of his is why many can agree he’s very easy to talk to, very outgoing. someone who’d always include you in the conversation if he notices you straying to the side. he is one to be around, but many are hesitant to get close to him. after all, a friend to all is a friend to none.

☆ getting to know him was quite easy. he’s practically an open book and is not one to hide his insecurities. after all, he’s always scrambling for ideas on how to liven up this performance. whether it be adding explosive balls on stage and experimenting with nitrate bombs, anything dangerous to keep his place of an acrobat.

☆ you caught his attention while attending one of his performances, you, all the way up in the front with your eyes all on him. he could feel that intentive gaze and was flustered by your stare, causing him to nearly mess up on his performance and almost caused an explosion with the bomb he was juggling with.

☆ you’ll see him chasing after you after the after party of the show, with his hand waving for you. “please! a moment of your time!”

☆ after that, he would frequently visit you in town. always talking about his day before asking you of your own, getting lost in the tiniest of the smallest details to tell you of, filled with lots of jokes. just to see your lips curl into a smile or even a laugh from you that he values. those quips would turn into flirtatious comments to an invitation for a date.

☆ he’s an affectionate man and loves any form of physical touch from you and all types of kisses that you present to him. he’d always surprise you with his sudden kisses, whether it be neck kisses, nape kisses, or even your ear. he especially loves it when you kiss his cauliflower ears, something he’s been very insecure about after an accident in producing one of his props. he’s such a dork he once tried to spiderman kiss you as you try to find him in his dressing room, completely catching you off guard and him failing as he immediately lost balance and fell.

☆ mike is fairly muscular. even if you aren’t on the strong side, he'll love to sit on your lap, staring down on you and his hands wrapped around your shoulders as he whines and babbles on about just everything. “i missed you so much oh my god you have no idea what happened today.”

☆ mike morton, who’d perform to the crowd with his compelling acts but behind the stage, he’s imagining ravaging you after the show.

☆ the entire time is full of him poking fun and teasing you. you’ll be taking off your clothes and he’ll be laying down, whistling. “yoohoo, hey handsome! damn, that bodyyyyy!” in other instances, when he’s desperate for skinship, he’ll be hurriedly taking off your clothes whilst still admiring. “you’re such a cute birdie.”

☆ he just loves to destroy the mood with his big mouth, doesn’t he? (it’s all in good fun, swear) he loves to tease you with not only his words, but his actions. he’ll be blowing hot breath on your ear, just to see your cute little shiver, drawing circles on your clit. beg him to taste you, put it in, do anything to you. as long as you beg him. he loves to feel and be wanted, especially from you.

☆ mike has a length of 6 and a half or so inches, his width a pretty substantial amount. he’s not a very a p and v type of guy, he’ll prefer other methods of pleasuring. overstimulating one area, having you sucking down on him or giving you oral. he loves to just taste.

☆ he’ll be the type to be very verbal in bed, he has no shame at all. he’ll be moaning and groaning so many types of phrases, slurring out his words. “oooohhhhh yesss bbabyyyyyy.”

☆ giving him head, he loves when you hollow out your cheeks. he’ll be pulling your head, leading your head on where to go. even in instances, he’ll be so lost in it, tears are brimming this lashes and he’ll be pushing your head to the point he’s choking you with his cock.

☆ while he’s down on you, praise him on how well he did on stage today. tell him how you couldn’t keep your eyes off him, how creative and funny he is. how nobody will ever make you feel this good but him. scrunch up his curls and don’t be shy to be verbal, he loves any sort of validation to know that he’s pleasuring you well.

☆ he’s very sexually expressive in bed and loves to experiment, which can range from strap-ons, roleplay, and food play. he’s very open minded and always open to new ideas coming from you, he’ll love to fulfill it!

☆ speaking of kinkwear, he loves to stiletto heel boots with lingerie and loves it especially when you wear lingerie was well. just the sight of you in leather and lace and him all dressed up for you, it’s almost like you’re preparing for a performance with him.

☆ adding on to food play, he loves to fill your entire body (especially your nipples and bottom) of cream and to just suck and lick you alive. he swears you’re already so sweet but to taste all his sweets altogether, he loves it. he’d make cute little swirls on your nipples of cream, lapping it like a dog. "oh boy! what are we having! carrot cake? strawberry shortcake? COTTON CANDY?”

☆ he loves straps-on, even making one for you to wear to sink him in. just the fact that you can fulfill him with all and any types of love makes him emotional.

☆ mike is an extremely emotional man, driven by his feelings. he loves to go fast but he’s an equal sucker for a slower pace, to ravish this beautiful time together with you.

☆ aftercare with him would be bathing together, your bodies pressing together. just to feel the warm water and your warmth, he simply just wants to be held by you. he’s so safe that truly, he doesn’t want to entertain the idea of this ever ending.

☆ he doesn’t particularly clean up after, in fact, after finishing your guys’ shower, he’ll urge you back in bed with him (the sheets all soaked with cum). he’ll fall asleep with his hands around your waist, his head buried on your chest. he wants to be enveloped by you, to know everything is alive. that you’re alive and everything is real.

☆ waking up, you’ll always see him still asleep. in reality, most of the time he wakes up much later than you but far too comfortable to want to get up. he’s a man child like that. you’ll always find his arm to be draped over your waist in a tight hold, he’s far too content to get up to go to morning practice.

☆ mike morton, as everyone says, is a magnificent acrobat. too overqualified but too in love with hullabaloo. he is an impressive man with the possibility of being thrown away at any given moment. he will do anything to stay important to you.

A Little Support

The boys just need a little love to ease the pain <3

Prisoner/Luca Balsa x reader | Prospector/Norton Campbell x reader

⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒

Norton Campbell

Yesterday he had a fight with Naib. A real fight, not their usual argumentative banter. It had almost come to blows too, you heard, until Norton suddenly turned on his heels and locked himself in his room. He’d been there ever since.

You were close enough with Norton to know the two sides of his proverbial flipping-coin. The face he showed yesterday wouldn’t have stayed locked away for long; it was too restless, too confrontational. Which meant the venom of the altercation had flipped him back to the safer, melancholy face you were so familiar with.

So here you were, struggling to carry a bulky, portable record player, a selection of records, and a small handbasket of food to his door. Frankly, managing to balance it all while you knocked was a feat worthy of recognition, but Norton just looked bemused when his face peered out from a cracked opening.

“Can I come in?” you ask, when he looked you over and still didn’t say anything. “I brought some stuff.” You nod down to the record player in your arms. Norton’s expression sours, but he instinctively reaches to take the pile of heavy items from you. You manage to shove just the food basket into his hands and slip into his bedroom.

It’s messier than usual inside, but you expected as much. The few spare articles of clothes he owns are strewn about. Books, paper, and a lone candle are sprayed out from his desk as if he’d swiped it clear in a rage. The space was convenient for the record player, at least.

When you turn around to look him over, Norton has already swiped a bread roll from the basket and shoved most of it in his mouth. His hair is mussed and he’s still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, sans gloves, shoes, and suspenders. The bags under his eyes are worse.

“What’s all this for?” he asks, setting the basket down and rifling through the rest of its contents.

“For us!” You announce.

“Us, huh?” He repeats, in his thinking-voice.

“Yes. I’m going to teach you some dance moves.”

“I already know how to dance,” he says matter-of-factly. You can’t suppress the goofy smile that comes with visions of his rare-but-passionate flailing.

“By yourself,” you corrected. “I’ve never seen you dance with a partner.” Something like embarrassment or shame pushes his eyes away from yours for a flicker. You know he’s never really done anything with a partner, romantic or otherwise. No dinner, no dances, very few hurried trysts. He’d always lacked both the time and the funds, and had few people he ever liked well enough to lock hands with.

Evidently he has the same line of thought, and it makes him a bit gruff as he says, “why would I want to?”

“Because I want to,” you say. “With you, anyway.” He scoffs, but an oh-so faint blush dusts his unscarred cheek. He’s putting on a brave face for this conversation, but you see the turmoil of yesterday’s events lingering just beneath his waning patience. He’s tired, raw, disappointed in himself. And probably thinks you should be too. His attention keeps drifting further away, so carefully, very carefully, you step forward and touch one of his calloused hands. “Just for a little bit? I promise it’s easy.”

Norton meets your eyes again…and lets out a sigh that seems he’s been holding for years. His other hand comes up to your waist, holding you carefully.

“Alright, yeah. Just for a little bit.”

⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒

Luca Balsa

At three in the morning, Luca had just managed to stumble his way through the manor and crawl his way into your bed.

His pained groans had woken you up from halfway down the hall, so you managed to open the door before he slammed right into it. He then hit your pillow like a rock, holding his head and sobbing that it was splitting open. Five hours of sleepless agony passed like a slug, filled with a long game of medical roulette where nothing ever helped twice. After the fifth hour, Luca finally passed out.

When he awoke again in the evening, his discomfort was gone. But, and perhaps more importantly, he looked lost.

“How are you feeling, Luca?” You ask. He jumps a bit at hearing his own name and stops scanning your bedroom in favor of curiously meeting your eyes.

“Oh! …Well, I think? Though, ah, I’m afraid I don’t quite know where I am,” he explains. Luckily, you’re practiced in hiding the hurt those words always induce. This is not your first experience with either his migraines or his amnesia, and it would surely not be your last.

“That’s alright,” you say. From the drawer in your desk, you produce a little notebook and pass it to him. Ever curious, he wastes no time in cracking it open. “You’re in my room. You had a really bad episode last night and came here instead of the infirmary. You had an accident several years ago that affected your memory. I’ve written about a lot of it in that notebook for you. Or, you keep some of your own that I can take you to. If you prefer.” He had never preferred that, though, always the trusting sort.

He spends several silent minutes flipping through the pages of the notebook, not bothering to hide his shifting expressions of shock, frustration, and intrigue. There’s a great deal of information in those pages, including the accident—or what you’ve heard of it anyway, the manor, his work, experiments you witness, and all the little ideas you hear him muttering to himself that he might forget otherwise.

“You keep this for me?” He finally asks, astonishment in his tone. “These seem impressively thorough.”

“I do, to make things a little easier for you,” you explain.

A grin splits his face and he turns to the notebook again. There’s no possible way he’s managing to take it all in with the speed he flies through it, but then he stops with purpose, marking a line with his finger and holding it with uncharacteristic force. The familiar determination in his eye is his attempt to bring a memory back through sheer willpower. And this time, it seems to work.

“Y…y—” he stutters. “Y/N! That’s it, you’re Y/N.” His shoulders relax as some great weight slides off them. Before you can react, he leaps to his feet and plants a kiss on your cheek that comes with a spark of static that feels like magic. “I love you too!”

“O-oh,” you squeak, still inches from his face and shocked at the speed he’s recovered. “Do you?”

“I do! Look, I wrote it here myself.” He points down to the page in the notebook. There, in your handwriting, is a reminder for him: ‘I love you, and will do anything to see your safe and happy.’ And in the small margins next to it, in his own quick scrawl, is ‘I love you too, never forget!’ You can’t begin to guess when he had added that note, but the glitter of mischief in his eye seems to indicate he knows with great fondness. “And it’s obvious to see why I would. It’s a remarkable gesture for you to keep this for me.”

Luca stands then, stretches, and tucks the notebook under his arm before offering you his gentlemanly hand, “Now! Let’s get some food, yeah? I’m starved. Oh! And let’s grab those other notebooks on the way, I have some catching up to do.”

“Alright,” you say. You feel lighter than you have in a while, reminiscing on how easily he accepts you back into his heart. With luck, he’ll remember everything else in a day or two. If he doesn’t, though, you’re at least not back to square one. “But in case you don’t remember, you don’t like sugar in your tea.”

Luca laughs boisterously, lays another electrifying kiss on your knuckles, and follows your lead out of the room.

i love this so much I'm gonna die

Hi there!! Can I req a Matthias x reader where the reader is very nice yet shy, and Matthias fell for their kindness but is afraid to confess cause he might lose them(who's the first and only person to show him genuine care)?

(But he's also bad at hiding his feelings)

Or maybe a scenario where he has a difficult time sleeping and finds himself impulsively knocking on your door— regretful of his actions but he can't back out now that you're standing in front of the open door, curious from the unexpected visit.

He's a new char so I hardly find any fics about him and I'm desperate💔 you can change the scenario!! I'm really just desperate uehdhsishd(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

hi anon i LOVED these ideas! i tried to combine both of them into one, i hope it satisfies what you wanted!! ♡

falling slowly 🪡

Matthias isn’t one to act on impulse.

He’ll let his thoughts fester aimlessly inside him, hoping the darker among them someday fizzle out. He’ll watch precious chances fly past him, fearing the consequences of a risk taken too rashly. A missed opportunity is better than another tragedy. A guarded mind is better than a broken heart. But some restless nights drive him to desperation, and tonight that leads him to you.

He stands outside your bedroom door, arms stiff against his sides. He’s passed by this room countless times before, as the two of you occasionally walk each other back to your rooms. But never has he come here on his own, never without explicit permission.

He gingerly raises his hand, letting it hover above your doorframe. All of a sudden, he loses his words. What would he say? I can’t sleep, I need you to check for monsters under my bed? I need you to stay with me until I fall asleep? I need you to tuck me in? What a baby. He can already picture the look you’d send him: a smile that’s trying too hard to be polite, a shabby effort at concealing the judgment within. You wouldn’t turn him down directly, even though he knows you’d want to. Kindhearted people love to dance in circles before saying anything that might offend. He’s all too familiar with this game. Normally, your kindness is something he loves about you, but all he can do now is curse it under his breath. If only you were crueler to him, like most people are, then he wouldn’t have let his hopes inflate his head. He would’ve known never to even consider stopping by your room. He would’ve known to avoid this situation altogether.

His fingers close into a fist, and it’s then he realizes he’s quivering slightly. Louis wouldn’t have a problem in this scenario. That thought piques Matthias most. His “factory defect” has locked him in place yet again, and all he can do is swallow down the reminder of his incompetence. It’s just a door, for God’s sake.

He flexes his fingers one last time, glancing around as if worried someone might catch him. Then he strikes his fist. It’s a clumsy motion, rattling your door on its hinges, and his heart leaps to his throat. A courteous knock would have three raps or so, not the jarring thud! he made — nobody in their right mind would imagine that’s a welcome visitor, right? Especially not at this snake’s pit of a manor. He prays desperately for you to ignore that ever happened. In your position, he’d pretend to be asleep, maybe double-check that the door is properly locked. Surely you’d do the same.

Surely...?

“It’s open!” greets your voice from inside, entirely unconcerned.

Matthias holds his breath. Why are you leaving your door unlocked at this hour? But he tucks that thought away while he stares down at the doorknob. This is it — he’s trapped. If he turns around now, you’ll be left with unresolved fears of someone lurking around your room at night. Nothing could entice him to do that to you. And if you ever found out it was him? It’d be too late for apologies, and definitely not forgiveness. Right, so he has to answer.

Slowly, he cracks it open a fraction, afraid of peering anywhere but the ground.

“You can come in,” you urge. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to. Footsteps shuffle around inside, then the door fully swings open. “Oh, hi Matthias! What’s up?”

He only meets your face briefly, at your bright and curious eyes, before his gaze flicks back downward.

“Uh… sorry to bother you, I just…” He awkwardly grasps at his elbows, struggling to string together his intentions. “…I need you.”

. . . . .

There it is. His secret is out. He didn’t mean to let it slip, but that single phrase had been bouncing endlessly around his mind, as if they were the only words he knew. It’s the one thing he can confidently admit: he needs you. He doesn’t expect you to reciprocate. In fact, he’s certain you don’t. Nobody in their right mind would. That’s why he never ventured to say these words before. So when you respond to him with patient silence, as if waiting for him to continue, the entirety of his body freezes over. Maybe only a few seconds pass in reality, but that’s more than enough time for Matthias to fill the gaps. It’s a no — he knows it’s a no.

Your head tips slightly. “Sure, what do you need?”

The whirlwind in his mind slows to a halt. He remembers how he used to cough up excuses on the spot when trying to avoid you—sometimes you’d invite him for a meal or game of cards together, and he had convinced himself those were pity invites so he tended to reject them upfront. It stings less to avoid someone altogether than to endure feeling ‘tolerated’ instead of ‘wanted.’ But now he’s wracking his brain for an excuse to stay.

“I—I just wanted to see you.” It’s not a lie, but for some reason it feels like one.

“Me?” A look of surprise flashes on your face, warmth blooming across your chest. That might be the most forward thing you’ve ever heard from him. Stepping closer, you reach for his forearm, peering up into his face to better examine his strained features. Your free hand reaches up to brush aside the limp strands of hair shrouding his face. “Did something happen? It’s almost midnight—I mean, I don’t mind, it’s just so unexpected…”

The strength falls from Matthias’ shoulders. Out of relief, maybe. Or maybe it’s to brace himself for one last leap of faith.

“Can I stay with you…?” His voice is barely audible. You search his lone eye, staring back at you in its perfect hollowness. At some point, that blank stare has become a comforting sight for you. Your hand trails from his arm to spread across his shoulder. He remains motionless.

“Okay,” you say, softly. “Always.”

As you move to wrap both arms around his neck, you notice his body tense, and his brows furrow, subtly, in a clear attempt not to let you notice. The strain on his face catches you off-guard.

“Wh-What? What’s wrong?” Immediately, you pull back to search his expression.

“N-No, nothing—keep going.”

This time, it’s Matthias who draws you close. His arms weave their way around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. His face burrows into your shoulder, and it’s then you understand the weight of his visit, of his need for you. All you can do is lift a tender hand to ruffle his hair, feeling his pounding heart ease in your arms.

Identity V x Namjatown Cat Chibi Survivor Ver

Hunter

Luca Balsa self indulgent commission set! Matching stimboard here, more information about commissions here!

good afternoon anhane nation 💥

Midori doodle!

— I’MA TEAR OUT YOUR HEART, IT’LL ALWAYS BE MINE

RECEIVERS。stalker!nikolai gogol x fem!reader

WISHCARD。“Come and fetch me, you said. Oh, you can’t imagine how turned on I am when you invited me so. You even shouted in front of everybody else, like I was already yours to begin with. I was so excited, I needed to chase you right at that second.”

BOUQUET。stalker au, 18+ content, dark content, harsh languages, very dubious consent, predator/prey dynamics, threats, manipulation, rough make-out session, masochism, slapping, object penetration, toxic relationship, degradation kink, obsessive behaviour, inspired by a scene in haunting adeline, dead dove do not eat (please read add. notes here)

PRICE。approx. 14.7k+

FREEGIFT。haunted (isabel larosa), help (isabel larosa), runrunrun (dutch melrose)

OTHER SHOP。available on AO3

❝ That bastard is still outside of my house. 

It has been almost several weeks, and each week, he made his effort to come and stalk the fuck out of me. He just stands there outside of my window where lights could not reach him. And I can’t believe he has the massive balls to come inside my house when I was sleeping. 

He lurks in the dark like a fucking creep. I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing out there, just watching me every time I have something to do in my OWN living room. 

For all I know, he could’ve been jerking himself off watching me. Disgusting.

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