#ᦏ♡᪔

[psychwardkitten]

[cellarkitty]

[ojitodboba]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ۫ㅤㅤㅤ𝇈ㅤ🌸ㅤㅤv𝒾é

ㅤㅤㅤ︵︵ ྀིㅤㅤㅤmr. 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖼ㅤㅤ˘ ､ ˘

[cameronsbabydoll]

reader crying to rafe when her friend is mean to her and he comforts her and secretly loves that their friendship is falling apart bc he has her all to himself now

Rafe knew the second he walked into the penthouse that something was wrong.

You were curled up on the couch, knees to your chest, face buried in your arms. The soft sound of sniffling reached his ears, and his jaw clenched.

His first instinct was anger—who the fuck made you cry? But he schooled his expression as he approached, crouching down beside you. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice all smooth concern. “What happened?”

You lifted your head, watery-eyed and pouty, and it nearly made him grin. You looked so sweet like this—so fragile, so his.

“She was so mean, Rafe,” you hiccuped, rubbing at your wet cheeks. “She said I’m too needy, that I always talk about you, and—and that I’m—” You trailed off, voice cracking.

Rafe’s jaw ticked. He had always thought that friend of yours was a brat. Too nosy, too opinionated. A bad influence. She was needy. She was the one trying to keep you from him.

He exhaled through his nose and sat on the couch, pulling you right into his lap without hesitation. His arms wrapped tight around you, big hands smoothing over your back as you buried your face in his chest.

“She’s a jealous bitch,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Probably wishes she had what you have.”

You let out a little whimper, and fuck, Rafe’s grip on you tightened. You were so soft like this. So reliant on him.

“I just don’t get it,” you whispered. “I thought we were friends.”

“You don’t need her,” Rafe murmured, stroking your hair. “You have me. Don’t I take care of you?”

You nodded weakly, clutching onto his shirt, and Rafe had to bite back his smirk.

That’s right, baby. Let her go. Let it all fall apart. Because now? You were all his.

[lovegasmic]

when your fave kisses you while you have an orgasm. so you’re reduced to a messy, trembling, sobbing state, squirming under his body, moaning against his mouth and almost choking from the lack of air, saliva dripping down the corners of your mouth due to the blissful sensation, unable to reciprocate and just lay there with his tongue plunging into your mouth, eyes crossing and pussy throbbing around his cumming cock.

[sovietsbolt]

is mgs fandom alive ? i need to find more people 🙏🏼

[l-unitas]

͏

၄⋆၃  ꢤꢆ  ୨९

𐔌  ᩙ   ᦏ♡᪔  ໒꒱

໒ঌ  ꒰ ✧ ꒱  𖣁

͏

[lambicilla]

♡ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ୨୧ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ୨ৎ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ฅ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ೀ

☆ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⑅ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ♩ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ◌ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ꕤ

𓋜 ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ๑ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ៸៸៸ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ‹𝟹 ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ʚ

ꔫ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ 𐂯 ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ◝ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ᵎᵎ

꒰ ꒱ྀི ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ꒰ ꒱ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ૮ ა ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ฅ ฅ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ก ก

‌ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⊃ ⊂ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ՞ ՞ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ‎ﻌ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ﹏

❊ ྀ ི ✦ ༽ ༼

ྌ ꒰ ・ ‌ ፝֟‌ ౿ ꘩ ᭥

𑂅 ☆ つ ⏜︵ ︖ ᧔

✿ ୧ ꕮ ꣑ ♡ ໒

၇ ㅤ᭢ ܍ ⪨ ৴ ⌑ ꪆ

୧ ౿ ⩍ ⩌ | ‌ | ‌ | ꒸

◍ ५ ⑅ ◞ ◟ ೀ

------------------------------------------------------------

ִ ☆゙ ۫ 🦷‌ ֶָ ࣪ ׅ 言 ʾʿ ›‹

ก ࣪ ۪ 𝒜ᱹ ֢ 🦢‌ࣳ 𖧧 ִ ࣪ ⋆ ٫٫

𝐘ᱹ 🥛᪶ ࣪ ָ 𖦹 ۪ ࣪ ִ さ 𝇃𝇂 ˒ ˓

我 ⸼ ࣪ ✿◌ ۪ 𖥁‌ ࣪ ִ ⩇⩇ ᭡ 🗯‌

⬚ ִ ๑ ᘡ 𑁍 ˙ ❀̼ ᨵ ਏਓ 𓈒 ⛽⃝ ࣪

◍ ׅ ヰ ׂ ♡ิ ݂ ✦ ݁ ﾶ ۪ 🍡 ່ ִ

♡゙ ݂ ⤿ 𝆬 🧃 ׅ ➛ ˒˓ 𖡎 ࣪ ۪ ⬔ 𓈒 ᜃ ˙

ᰍ ִ ױ ࣪ 🩰⃝⃝ ݂ ๑ 𝆬 𝖿ꭤׅ𝗂𝗋𝗒 ⬞ ִ 𓈃 ׂ

‎𐫱 𝂅 숌 ݁ 𔒌 ˒˓ 𓈊 ۫ ᘏ ׅ ≡ ݁

ィ ִ ꕤ 𝆬 𔒱 ݂ ꒷꒦ 🧁 ۪ ᘐ ˙

ᖘ ׅ ❍ ׂ ᳤ ✩᳣ ۪ ᯤ ݁ ઇ 𓈒 ୯ ࣪

ᦾ. 🎀⃞ 𔓗 ݂ ୬ 𔖳 ׅ ২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ۪

◩ 𝆬 ᨎ ִ 𓈀 ۫ ᨫ̼ ִ ⌇ ׂ ᨯ ׅ

ᰋ ݁ ᘛ ݂ ᰌ 𝆬 ◎ ݂ ᨸ ˙ ✿

˒˓ ᪄ ࣪ ⩁ ݂ ᘐ ݁ 🥟⃝ 𓈒 ᘡ ࣪

╰ ꞋꞌꞋ ׅ ▭▬ 𝆬 𔘓 ׅ ਕ ۫ ╮ ৬ ۪

𝇁𝇃𝇂 ࣪ ৯ ◞ ୨୧ ׂ ⤺ ִ ⟳ ʾʿ ◍⃘ ᜔

🧂 ִ ᡛ 𝆬 𓍯 ׅ 𖣗 ݁ ❏ 𓈑 𓈒

📃 ۫ 𓊌 ˒˓ ▞ ࣪ ۪ 𔓕 ᩧ ✷ ׅ

𓈁 𓄰 ׂ ✻ ݂ ꮚ ׂ 𓋜 ۪ ᘞ ˙

𓊔 ִ 𓄸 𓄳 𝆬 𓍢🥞 ׅ 𔔡 ʾʾ 𖠇 ۪

𖣯 ࣪ ꗃ ִ 백지헌 ࣪ 🥯 𓈒 𝇋♡︎𝇌 ׂ

🜸 ׅ 𝆬 ﹫txt ݂ 🜲 ۫ ʬ ᜔ ᄿ

˙ 𝆺𝅥𝆹𝅥 ִ ǂ ݁ ◌ ׅ ᥐ ׂ ⩇⩇:⩇⩇ ׅ ࿂ ݂

★ ׂ ⍝ . 𓂃 ✿゙ ݁ 𓆩𓆪 ׅ 𔐬 𝆬

𐀔 ִ (:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) ꐑꐑ : 🐄 ׅ ꣹ ۫ 𖨂

𓈒 ᕱ ˓˒ ꨣ ࣪ ʚĭɞ ׅ 𝆭 𑄾𝇂 ִ ᱑ ׄ ׅ

🍭𝆬 ݂ ꭷ ࣪ ☆̸★ ݂ ƸӜƷ ׄ ᱉ ׅ

᱈ ۫ ﹏ 𐀓 = ִ 📁 ࣪ ᰊ ׅ ˙

⊹ 𓂐 ۪ ▯ ࣪ ꒰ 💭 〢 ⎓ ݂

ఇ ⬭ ࣪ 𔗫 𓈒 ⥽ ݁ ⩩ ˓˓ ᦔ ۪

〨 ׂ ⩌ 𖫱 ㄔ ִ ∩ യ 𝆬

𓈈 ݂ 👣 ࣪ ੲ⃞⃝ਦ 𝂅 ⩅ ࣪ ⨳

˒˒ ㅃ ׄ

-------------------------------------------------------------

𐂯‎   ⠀ ⠀ ﾉ  ⠀ ⠀ 𐔌ㅤ  ⠀ ⠀ ೀ  ⠀ ⠀ ᭪

⼺  ⠀ ⠀ ⺀  ⠀ ⠀ 𓈒۫　ׅ ✧ ⠀˙⠀ ˖ ⁺ ༝ ۫　 ݃ ｡𓃉

᱖  ⠀ ⠀ ꒰ ⠀꒱  ⠀ ⠀ ྀི  ⠀ ⠀ ⨟  ⠀ ⠀ ᜊ

⁘  ⠀ ⠀ ✎  ⠀ ⠀ ♱   ⠀ ⠀๋  ⠀ ⠀ જ⁀➴

꒰ა ⠀ ໒꒱  ⠀ ⠀ ฺ  ⠀ ⠀ 𐂯ྀི  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ฅ ฅ

ೃ𓈒𓏶ྀི  ⠀ ⠀ ౨౿  ⠀ ⠀ ♬  ⠀ ⠀ ‹𝟹 ⠀ ̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥

𐐂𐐚  ⠀ ⠀ ๑   ⠀ ⠀ ⪩ ⪨  ⠀ ⠀ 𓉸ྀི  ⠀ ᦏ♡᪔

𓂋  ⠀ ⠀ 𐚁᭢༘۠  𐙚ㅤㅤ  ⠀ ⠀ 𓄯ྀི  ⠀ ू𑣩𑣨

♪ྀི  ⠀ ⠀ ꒰੭  ⠀ ⠀ ◟𓋜  ⠀ ⠀ ও  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀∿

❀ᬊ  ⠀ ⠀ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁  ⠀ ⠀ 𝗓 ᶻ  ⠀ ⠀ ཻུ۪۪♡⠀  ꩜ྀི｡

ᡣ ︠ 𓈒. .𓈒 ︡𐑠   ⠀ ⠀ 𓈉  ⠀ ⠀ 𖡎  ⠀ ⠀ ✐  ⠀ ♡⃞

[psychwardkitten]

[cellarkitty]

[nicodefresas]

ততততত ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)  .°. ݁₊ 𐙚 . ݁ ⁺₊(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ !⠀♡⠀₊⠀°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⠀ׁ⠀ꔛ ೯⠀ ꕀ ᥀ ♡︭ ୭ৎ 🍓 𓋜 ༝༚༝༚ ✦ 𐐪𐑂 જ⁀➴ ᜊ ⊹ 𖧷࿐ ｡˚ 𖦹 ○ ⌒⁺ 🀣⠀ 𖥻 𝗢𝟭 ⠀ᰋ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 🌸｡ ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✧ ໒꒱⋆ ೃ࿔ ☆ ૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ ა ♱ ‧ 인형 ⠀ﾉ ⠀ ৶ ꒷꒦ 〹 ➜ ᰌ (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠) 　 ಿৎ　༻　⊰　⊱　༺　♰　✟　 ྀི　༏ིྀ　‿　ཁ　ཀ　 ೀ　𓏏𓏏　†　₊　˙

⁺　︵　𓏴　⸸　꒱ を ୨ :★: ୧ 𔓐𑇓 ʚ 𐔌✚ི ᴗ ╹ ꒱ ʕ⁠っ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ⁠っ 🅅 귀여운 ⬭ യ 𝆹 ㅊ o ⋄ ！⭒ ⌒ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ׁ ˙ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི 𖢲 ﹅ ׁׁ (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) ■ ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ꔵ 〨 ִֶָ ☄ : : ﹙﹠﹚︵　。⠀⠀ ૮ Ꮚ◞ ˔ ◟Ꮚა ⠀˙⠀⠀꒱　‿　　 𝜗℘　　𓏵𓏵 ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤㅤ ♡ ㅤ۫ㅤ ೀ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤㅤㅤ✧ 𓉸⠀⠀⠀◝⠀⠀ꢤꢆ ♡̵ ◟ ͜ ͜ ◞　꣑୧　◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ ᡴꪫ ୨९ °՞(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ 𐔌 ᩙ   ᦏ♡᪔  ໒꒱ ‎ ‎ꪆ୧‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‹𝟹 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ✦‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎꒱ ➛ ↴ ❱ ✿•˖* ℘ ﹋﹋ ❛ ╯ ❲ ❳ ∞ ‹ ∅ ┊ ➹ ੈ♡‧₊˚ ↱ ᵕ̈ ↷ ೃ ╲ ╱ 彡 ✥ ❥ Ꮠ ➜ ᎒ ☈ ❁ ⸙͎۪۫ ⊰ 「❀」 . .⃗ . ཐིཋྀ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎✿‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎✚⠀⠀𓂂⠀　⁺　⠀(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)　†　　‿ྀ　◞𓍯ㅤ 𖥨 𖦹 ㅤݴ᭄ᭂ ࿙ㅤ ๑ ═━ ᰋ 𝆬 🎀ִ ১ ׄ ⫬ ⫬ ִ ⊹ ໑ ࿔ ७ ᗣ ݂ ׄ⋕ ݁ ჺ ⚠︎ 𓉸ྀི ౨᭪ 𖥨᭣ᩧ ۦ ِ֎ְۭ ۘ 𑇛𑇓 ᭧𖫲⸺𝒇 ࿙ྀ࿚ ︩♡̸︪ 𐐼̸̶̷ ꒰ֵ回ֵ꒱ 𔒌⁺્ ᰰ ⓱̱⸽⸽⸽

⊹　 + * 　 ⊹ 　 °. * ✧ .𓈀 𖦥 ﹅ ンㅤꞋꞌꞋꞌ ㅤィ % 𓂃 ㇁ ◒ ！ ンㅤ╮ ⟆ ﹏ ！ 𓂃𓈒 ﹑ ζ ㅤ﹏ ⨾ㅤ 𓈈ㅤ❨ ᨓ ⎓ ° ？ 𓈒ㅤ▱ 𓂅 𓂃 ⨾ ᘒ ◟ ζ 𓍢 ◖ ᨓ ♡ ■ ꫂ ২ ζ १ ���� 𓂃 ♥︎ ᨒ 𓉸ྀི ୫ ૪ ໒ 𐂴 ৎ ຊ ∿ ꔵ 𓍼 ⸼ ☓ ﹫ ー ꣹ ⋄ 𓍢 𐄂 ⍈ 𐇵 ⎙⩇⠀⠀⠀𓄹ִִִִִִ⠀⠀ ⠀ふ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˓⠀⠀˓⠀⠀ ✿⠀⠀⠀⠀՟ ⠀ ─ ⠀⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀⠀ꔵ ຯ (⁠θ⁠‿⁠θ⁠) ﹙ ﹚ ₍ ₎ ণ ั ر ⃕み ١⠀ﻬ ७ ۫ ૬ ᝰ ⋆ ⌒ ✶ ঌ ᔉ ۵ ५ ✷ ༄ ˓ 𖥸 𓄻 𓏧 ⌁ ꗃ ꈍ. ໒ ೨ 𖧧 Ꮺ 𖧷 𓏲 𖥨 𖦹 (⁠ ⁠˶⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ꁞ⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠˶⁠ ⁠) ๑ ໑ ࿔ ७ ५ ୭ ᠀ 𑁯 ੭ ⩩⠀⠀ᘝ⠀𝆞

[baenuit]

ㅤ

𝗁𝗆, 𝗁𝗎𝗆. ` #🌼 ( 何 )

ᦏ᪔ ִ ᜑ⠀ 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗆ᧉ𝗅𝗅𝗈 ⠀⠀๑

𝗀𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗋 ' 예쁜 𝙿𝙾𝙻𝙰𝚁𝙾𝙸𝙳

𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗈 ︐ 𝖼𝗈𝖾𝗎𝗋 ᘡ 映画 𔓘

ꮚ 𝗉⍵𝗍𝗍𝗒 , ໒꒰ ♡◞ ˕ ก ꒱১

soft──bios ·⠀ modificação livre.

[cameronsbabydoll]

SUGAR-COATED CHAINS — CHAPTER ONE

WARNINGS — “boy talk” so sorta talk of some of the country club men objectifying the reader, rafe is a bit of a pretentious jerk.

The country club is a world of its own—pristine, untouchable, dripping in old money and quiet corruption. You don’t belong here, not really. The drink in your hand is too sweet, too colorful, too much of a contrast against the neat glasses of bourbon and scotch being passed around by the men nearby.

But you sip it anyway, letting the cold bite of fruit and sugar settle on your tongue, unaware of the way their eyes have settled on you.

You don’t hear the first comment.

“Fresh meat,” one of them mutters under his breath, whiskey swirling in his glass.

“Looks too young,” another chuckles, eyes flicking to the hem of your plaid skirt, the soft skin of your thighs exposed beneath it. “Wouldn’t last a night with any of us.”

They’re talking about you like you aren’t even real. Like you’re something to be had.

Rafe hears them, though. He wasn’t paying much attention to their conversation before, but now? Now he can’t take his eyes off you.

You don’t even notice.

That annoys him.

You’re too soft, too sweet—too oblivious to the men watching you like a meal they’re waiting to pick apart.

“You thinking about making a move?” One of them smirks, elbowing Rafe. “Bet she’d go home with anyone who flashed a little cash.”

Something in him snaps.

Before he can think twice about it, he’s standing, abandoning his drink, and heading straight toward you.

You don’t see him coming. Not at first.

You’re still stirring your drink, gaze distant, lost in thought. That’s what makes you look even younger—that unguarded softness, the way you don’t seem to realize what kind of place you’re in, the kind of men that lurk here.

You only notice him when his shadow falls over your table.

“Shouldn’t be sitting here alone.”

You blink up, startled. The man standing in front of you is tall, broad-shouldered, dressed like money but not as polished as the rest of the men in the club. His blue eyes are sharp, cutting right through you, but there’s something distant about them. Assessing. Deciding.

It takes you a second to respond. “I—I’m not alone. My friend just went to—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cuts in smoothly, like your words don’t mean anything. Like you’ve already lost the choice in the matter.

He reaches down, plucks the drink from your hands, and examines it like it’s something ridiculous. “This is what you’re drinking?” His lips twitch, a ghost of a smirk. “Kid’s drink.”

Your cheeks burn. “It’s good.”

“Bet it is.” Rafe lifts the glass, tilting it just enough to let the pink liquid swirl near the rim. He watches it for a second before setting it back down. Something possessive coils in his chest.

You shift under his gaze, confused. There’s a tension in the air now, something charged—you don’t know why he’s standing here, why he’s looking at you like that, but you can feel the weight of it settling into your chest.

“Here,” he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a business card, crisp and expensive, the raised print practically gleaming. He sets it down in front of you.

Your brows pull together. “What’s this?”

Rafe doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he lets his knuckles skim the edge of the table, gaze flicking over you one last time, before taking a half step back.

“Call me,” he says simply. “If you’re gonna be in places like this, might as well be with me.”

And then he’s gone, heading back to his table like nothing just happened.

When he sits, the men are already smirking.

“Didn’t take you for the sugar daddy type,” one of them taunts, amused.

Rafe doesn’t answer. He just takes a slow sip of bourbon, watching you turn the card over in your hands.

—

Your friend slides back into the seat across from you, eyes wide as she takes in the look on your face.

"Where the hell did you go?" you ask, still feeling the ghost of his presence, the heat of his gaze.

"Bathroom," she says quickly, glancing at the card in your hands. "But what is that?"

You blink down at it, turning it over between your fingers. The name on it doesn’t mean much to you, but the weight of it does.

"I think he just… gave me his number," you murmur.

Your friend lets out a small, disbelieving laugh. "He just gave it to you?"

You nod, still dazed. "Yeah, and he told me to call him."

"Oh my God." She claps a hand over her mouth, muffling her excitement. "Do you know who he is?"

You shake your head.

"Rafe Cameron," she breathes, like the name should mean something to you.

It doesn’t. Not yet.

—

Later that night, you’re curled up in your bed, canopy draped in soft white fabric, the dim glow of your bedside lamp casting shadows on the walls. The whole night still lingers in your mind—the way Rafe had looked at you, the smooth, detached way he had spoken.

The business card sits on your nightstand.

You reach for it, running your fingers over the raised print, his name standing stark against the matte finish. It feels heavy. Like it means something.

You should just go to sleep. You should wait until tomorrow, or not call at all.

But instead, your fingers tremble slightly as you pick up your phone.

You stare at the number for a moment before pressing call.

It only rings once.

Then—his voice. Low, smooth, unreadable.

“You’re up late.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You don’t know what to say, but before you can even think of a response, Rafe speaks again.

“You always do what you’re told this easily?”

Heat rises to your cheeks. “I—I just—”

A soft chuckle, dark and satisfied.

“Good girl.”

Silence stretches for a second, and then—

“Be ready tomorrow night,” Rafe says, like it’s already decided. “I’ll send a car.”

You blink. “Wait—what? For what?”

A pause. Then, smooth as ever—

“Dinner.”

Your heart flutters, excitement bubbling in your chest. “Like… a date?”

Rafe laughs, but it’s not warm—it’s amused. Detached.

“Sure, princess. A date.”

Before you can ask anything else, the line goes dead.

You stare at your phone, your stomach twisting with nerves, excitement, something else you can’t quite name.

You don’t realize it yet.

But you’re already playing his game.

[lovegasmic]

I want a needy boy to pin me down against the mattress, moaning in my neck and just using his hips to thrust from how sensitive he’s getting.

[koosmicmoon]

' . ᦏ♡᪔ jungkook wallpaper ! Ꮚა. '

★ like or reblog if you use !

by koosmicmoon/ luni ><

[sovietsbolt]

⠀

⠀⠀⺌ we will ᭝ * 𓉸 𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙰𝙲𝚈

⠀⠀ to heal that 𝚁𝙸𝙵𝚃 ⦂ and 𝕸𝙰𝙺𝙴

⠀⠀ the world ⊹ 𝚆𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙴 𓍲 again.

⠀ ⠀

⠀

an independent portrayal of thunder

bolt , yevgeny borisovitch volgin ᭝

scripted for ⌗mgs verse

* this blog is crossover and oc friendly , strictly mdni ( 18+ ) the character is a supervillain and non friendly in general , don’t take anything ic personal please

* nsfw , explicit , triggering content will be present , sexual , dark themes as well! admin & muse are over eighteen plus , admin goes by he/she , admin is pretty friendly and open to chat ic and ooc :) feel free to hit me up anytime , i’m looking for interactions

this portrayal is based on the events of mgs3 and mgsv focused on volgin being a gru colonel and him as man on fire , ships will be with chemistry only , preferably with ivan and ocelot , volgin is bisexual and will remain that way in this portrayal.

hope you guys will enjoy this blog , i’m looking forward to interact with everyone on here. ‎♡