#AND THE FUCKING ALL MIGHT CARD THING TOO HE JUST HAS THAT ON HIM CASUALLY LSJDKLSDJFSD KATSUKI

[bakudekublogblog]

y'all i know kacchan dying like that must have been traumatizing for the bkdk shippers, but like.... he also died in the gayest way humanly possible.... like i can't even imagine going through that bc on one hand it's like my special boy is dead, but on the other he was so love interest coded, shiggy killed him specifically bc of izuku's intense feelings about him, the fucking yearning for izuku as he died, and then the reveal he carries the little all might card he got with izuku around with him like. i cannot stress enough just how gay his death was. like i just know the shippers had to be a little conflicted

[yeyinde]

The 141 finding out you've never had sex.

Just casually drinking, playing cards. A joke causes it to slip out.

body electric: the virgin edition

Gaz, the instigator, mutters something about not having been fucked in ages. this springs up a sudden surge of comradery, because, yeah. neither have they.

Soap's devote Catholicism (i like to imagine) leaves little room for flippant intimacy. he tries to be a good boy. key word, of course, being: tries. but the last serious relationship was years ago. back when he was grunt. he's pent up. abstinence, yeah? he holds it tight in his hand. but the thing about fists is that they're often mistaken for anger. Soap's a realist masquerading as an optimist. he knows whoever falls into his jowls next will be a MacTavish by the time he's through with them. and commitment. well. his comes at a price. a hefty one.

Ghost prefers casual flings where he doesn't have to take any clothes off. unzips his trousers, frees his cock, and then tries to pretend he's a real, flesh and blood, human. to feel something, anything, except a vacuum between hollow bones. but his tastes are peculiar. on the side of unhinged. he hasn't found the perfect body yet satiate himself with.

Price. well. with his bloody hands, he thinks he'd rather not dirty the same people he swears to protect. and divorcing at the age of 30 does that to a man, maybe. his role as a captain (an excuse in retrospect) also keeps him from unleashing his wants. the very same ones that are probably best under lock and key, anyway. it's just for the best, really. something he ought to do because the moment he has another chance to sink his teeth into someone's neck, he'll tear them apart. break them into pieces.

despite bringing it up, Gaz knows the real reason he's single is because he's pushy. he wants. so he takes. and then takes some more. more. more. until his gullet is full of the person he's obsessed with. carrying them around in his breast pocket everywhere he goes. the perfect mate. the one he can shower with unfettered affection. a deluge, in all honesty. one with the ideation to drown. biblical floods. trapped beneath him. he likes it more than he should, but. singedom, then, he supposes.

and then you roll the dice. admit, sheepishly, that, technically, you have them all beat. zero is always lesser than five, ten, twenty. but it's this misstep—zero, never—that catches their attention.

suddenly, you're not surrounded by kin but a pack of wolves. all hungry in their own ways, all starving. it just makes sense to quench their hunger with you, doesn't it? friend, ally. pretty little thing. so sweet for them. and perfectly mouldable. putty they shape to their hearts desire. the perfect mate.

Soap grips his rosary. the sign of the cross, heavenly Father and Holy Spirit, digging into his palm like the burn of a baptism. what's devotion if not pain? he cuts himself on the gold. offers blood of the sacrament to whoever might be listening, and leans in, sniffing.

Price's knuckles are white. he leans back, hidden in shadows. all you can see is spark of burning orange from his cigar as he takes mouthful after mouthful of smoke, contemplating. assessing.

"that so?" he doesn't even need to look at his Lieutenant to know that the man has gone still. too bad for you, it's not from shock.

Ghost barely holds himself back. keeps tight in his seat. fists clenching. unclenching. he has a good enough read on the people around him to see the unfiltered desire ripping across their face. scorching. but to bite, with his mouthful of jagged, seraded teeth; ones meant to rip, break, tear, would ruin you. permanently. unequivocally. and—

"wanna give it a go?" all eyes turn to Gaz, electric in his seat. eyes smouldering umbre. "i mean, you trust us the most, don't you?" us. it's stunning, he thinks, the way Gaz can weave tapestry in the air like this with just his words. one tangled like shibari binds. "and we care for you a lot. we'll be gentle. it's up to you, of course, but—"

Soap's bloody hand disappears under the table. you gasp. "yer askin' fer it, ain't ye? beggin' so pretty fer it."

"n-no, i—"

"mind your manners." Price. his voice is chiselled into char, authoritative; low. a lulling command spoken in a breath of smoke. "and don't lie, love. or i'll have to take you over my knee."

the tension is thick. Soap's arm moves, slow. deliberate. Ghost has clench his jaw to avoid bearing his teeth. snarling.

Gaz cuts it with a knife. hews compliance into your skin with a fine needle point. "it's okay. we'll take such good care'a you. make you feel so good."

your submission is a heavy thing. oppressive. the shallow dip of your chin, the blistering heat simmering under your flesh, burning right, is the prettiest fuckin' thing he's ever seen. he does clench his jaw this time. tight, tight. tight

until something pops.

"okay." you yield. head bowed. beautifully submissive.

when he looks around, catches the predatory crackle in the air. his hackles raise. immediate. instinctual. and ah, right.

it's easy to forget he's surrounded by a wild pack of stray dogs. starving ones, too.

[anomaliex]

Pretty privilege is real because if Riz started handing out business cards again it'd be well (or at least less badly) received because he's hot now. This is extremely funny to me. Honestly anything relating to Riz having stumbled ass backwards into being hot (He's not even trying. Fabian is furious slash lighthearted abt that one.) and not really caring about it all is peak comedy. To me.

Like think about it. If you're his age or younger and this Goblin kills someone really well because that's what he does, and he adjusts his tie and pulls a business card out of his vest and he's covered in tattoos (and if it's after combat I guess there's a decent chance he's a little bloody too) and his hair is dishevelled but looks good now and he hands it over casually because he learned how to social interaction at some point and has +9 to persuasion and just goes "Riz Gukgak, private eye." What the fuck. That's not "kid that's gonna get bullied" anymore this is cool now. Only hot people are allowed to do insane shit like give out business cards without being in an appropriate setting. I think it helps that he's actually licensed now lmao but you get the point. Also somewhere here I have to acknowledge that if you're not a small creature it might be less cool. But it probably works on some medium folk still. My point still stands it's like, the vibes aren't cringe failure anymore.

Fig or honestly Gorgug randomly brings this up while they're chilling and then they have to test it out and force Riz to do it several times and he plays along at least for a bit because he loves his friends and Fabian swoons as dramatically as possible and they don't let it rest (and hey that might have honestly flustered him a little bit and The Ball is not supposed to be able to do that. What the fuck happened.) Riz does not understand what the big deal is but apparently the cringey thing he did in middle school is suddenly cool now and he could "get some" (ew) if he wanted (he absolutely does not). He can't decide if his friends are just crazy (not unlikely) (Adaine isn't being weird about it but she's also not saying the others are insane so that's a bad sign. Gorgug isn't being weird about it but he agrees. Oh no.) or if he can never hand out a business card to anyone under the age of twenty again (not that he was planning to I think he had a bit of a career shift. But. Y'know.)

Honestly I think Riz in general had a little trouble after the whole vibe change because now people's perception of him is different, and therefore he has to interact with them differently to get the same reactions. There is a point to which he can't get the same reactions. Like, adults he doesn't know seem to think he's a little less trustworthy now (it's hard not to believe some obvious nerd loser is being earnest. It's harder to believe that the tatted up cool guy has the same attitude) and he has to deliberately proof he's a good boy (mostly). People his age are less inclined to brush him off but also take his bluntness as either a challenge or weird flirting or maybe both when it was just him being blunt and awkward before.

He clocks it after a few times and adjusts, and all it really takes is a slight tone adjustment because it's not like, a huge difference, but it's weird that there's a difference at all. He didn't really think rolling up his sleeves and wearing his tie a little looser and bedazzling himself with rings and bracers would make him seem that much less like a social loser but apparently it does. It helps that he has expertise in persuasion but at first he doesn't realise his "I need to learn how to be palatable" self-training screwed him over in a weird backwards way.

Riz is a weird guy. Social cues are more like, clues to him. That he has to rigorously watch out for and piece together like a puzzle. He can absolutely do it, and he excels at it nowadays, but it didn't come to him naturally and took him. A while. In middle school he definitely didn't get it. What's instinct to others has to be a conscious thought process for him, idk, have i mentioned that he's autistic. I know this, trust. I kinda lost the point idk man.

Being autistic and aroace and falling into some weird niche of attractiveness and also being weird and awkward as shit but "cool now" is hard. Suddenly people approach him in different ways than before and sometimes he doesn't even get it until his friends tell him because it was something completely new and then he has to learn new clues for those specific settings because apparently it's different at a party than at school. All in all weird experience socially. But Riz enjoys puzzles so maybe this can be enrichment or something, who knows.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

So for new year cards...

Jack SSR is actually so cool; I like it. Malleus SSR is beautiful and all, but he really reminds me of a bride in forced marriage tropes. 😭

[Referencing the Twst JP Jan 2025 schedule!]

Finally, some good fucking food for Jack stans 😭 Port Fest feels like so long ago… fbjssbdjjs I feel like I can’t appreciate his design as much as others can. I’m not into the skintight undershirt on a character as buff as Jack is, and I'm confused as to why his gloves are... like that??? But!! I do like his fluffly little boa thing and how enthusiastic his pose is. You can tell he’s really putting his all into the New Year Sale~!

Malleus got another new hairstyle (any hairstyle that's different than his default one is a win in my book www)!! I think it's a well-liked look among his fans; I already saw so many people commenting that he looks like a love interest in a reborn as a villainess isekai or something to that effect.

I also saw some chatter around the thin fabric that Malleus seems to have over himself. A common joke is that it's a "wedding veil", but given the traditional Japanese clothes everyone is wearing for the new year, it's more likely also a Japanese article of clothing. A friend theorized that it's a 被衣 (kazuki/katsugi), a garment worn over the head that fully covers the body. These are mostly donned by noblewomen to cover their faces when they go out--and that sort of makes sense, given that Malleus himself is a noble. How demure and mindful... I thought the veil could also be a frost blanket (you know, to protect the budding flowers from the cold)?? But I'm not entirely sure right now; maybe the vignettes will give us more context!

A friend and I were speculating as to what flowers might be featured in the initial card art and the conclusion we came to was ume (plum) blossoms. The color and shape are similar, and they're a classic flower in winter anime. Something else I noticed was that the same flowers seem to appear in Sebek's New Year Attire from two years ago! If you compare Malleus and Sebek, you'll notice that the lighting is much warmer in Sebek's too. In fact, all previous SSR cards are pretty much like that, save for maybe Trey but at least Trey is shown to be in front of the shop. It really makes Malleus's card "stick out", since he's the only one that appears to be in a lonely and isolated location, just him and the plum blossoms.

On the subject of clothing worn by Japanese women! The same friend and I talked about Jamil's New Year Attire too. (Figured I'd throw this in here since I'm already talking about the other three 2025 New Year boys. Don't wanna leave him out, y'know??)

You can see that he has his hood up in the initial card artwork; my friend joked that Jamil's a newlywed. Why? Brides that choose to dress traditionally for their wedding days wear a wide white headdress/hood called a 角隠し (tsunokakushi), which covers an elaborate hairstyle like Jamils'/j. The "tsuno" (horns, as I'm sure you're all familiar with) in the name refers to the "horns of jealousy"; the tsunokakushi is meant to blanket the jealousy so she can enter her new married life at peace.

Of course, the shape, color, and context of the tsunokakushi is very different than what Jamil's got going on and the Twst team most likely did not intend for this comparison to be drawn, but I thought that this was interesting to share ^^ (*feeds Jamuil yumes this delulu cultural trivia*)

Aaaand let's close out with Floyd! The answer to his question is simple, actually. To put one's arm inside the kimono is just a very casual or relaxed way to pose. It suits Floyd and his attitude, doesn't it?

[annionebutme]

This idea has been distracting me from writing what I'm actually trying to write so I wrote a little.

Boredom was Harry's only excuse. Boredom, angst, and a general disregard for his own mortality.   

He'd sent one of the school owls off with a birthday cupcake for Voldemort, card included, "I wish you were on fire instead of the candle."  Anonymously, of course, but the thank you card and accompanying book of curses to reward himself with (one that made its victims words become water as they were spoken was helpfully marked) were both clearly labelled with his full name. It should have stopped him. 

It didn't. 

Almost a full year now of daily insults and mostly being ignored until Voldemort happened upon something interesting to threaten him with  had passed. Harry was idly planning what to do for Voldemort's birthday and their hateversary when he felt an odd sensation at the back of his neck, like someone was yanking him by the scruff. It snaked upwards leaving a cold, gooey feeling in its wake until it settled about level with his ear. It made his brain feel heavy, almost like sleep might. His vision began to waver, shifting rather than blacking out, until he was sat next from a very casually posed Voldemort in a dimly lit restaurant with large, round tables set into round pits in the floor encircled with a luxuriously soft velvet couch. 

He tried not to panic as Voldemort camly turned to face him. 

"Evening, Harry." 

With Voldemort's faze firmly fixed on him it felt like every moment of his hesitation was being analysed and dissected to use against him later. Harry drew a breath, but did not respond. 

"Thought you might like to join me. I've had the opportunity to take your latest piece of advice." 

 Fuck. What had he said recently? Did he kill someone? Torture someone? Because of what Harry had said?!

"Eat a dick."  Voldemort supplied, still deadly calm. 

Harry blinked. "You sucked someone off?" 

Voldemort smiled it was not the cruel smile showing all his fangs that Harry had grown to expect, but a relaxed, jovial smile whose effect was only slightly lessened by the mouthful of poinnted teeth. 

"This restaurant serves only the reproductive organs of animals. I thought you might join me." There was a glass of dark red wine in his hand that Harry didn't think had existed until a moment ago. 

"Why?" 

"I find myself in need of a distraction. I am dining with the French Minister for Finance who has been informing me of the aphrodisiac properties of eating genitals. He is currently bragging about the prostitute he has hired to test this on. We've only ordered the wine so far, and I do not expect things to improve." 

"Oh." Said Harry. There was no one in the restaurant,  which probablymeant this was in his head or Voldemort's "You're not hoping to just.. y'know, kill him?" 

"That *is* the dream" He said, swirling his wine. "To kill with impunity, but presently It would cause far more problems than simply sitting through a meal would." 

"Even though he's talking about... stuff you don't like? "  

Voldemort seemed like he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I am more than capable of handling a little locker room talk, Harry, despite it being boring and generally beneath me." 

Harry could sympathise. He'd been in actual locker rooms weekly since he was 11, and the conversation always seemed to be the same. "But you hate me too."

"You're the easiest mind to pop into, and marginally better to converse with. At the very least you can't regale me with your sexual conquests." 

"Oi!" Harry said, a bit friendlier than he meant to. 

Voldemort propped an elbow upon the back of the couch "I have it on good advice that one shouldn't "dish it out" if they are unable to take it." 

Harry supposed he was right. It was true, anyway, and it wasn't something that actually bothered him. Finding the time for such activities was difficult when he was so focused on survival so if he ever had negative thoughts about it he just blamed it on Voldemort and his shame vanished easily. 

"I'll order the milt. It would be a shame if you didn't get the complete experience for your first time"

[multiheadcanons]

TF2 MERCS AND GAMES

scout: the boy loves an fps, though is pretty good at most any game you set in front of him. nobody ever wants to play a video game with him. sucks at cards though. lost his entire first check to a drunk demo on poker night. that is when he found out he did not know the rules of poker. good sport about losing games because it happens so rarely, but a very sore winner. you would think he’s never won anything in his life ever. also a casual enjoyer of puzzles.

soldier: soldier is a cheater. a damn good one at that. one of the few people to beat scout in any game of scout’s choice, bar a good old foot race. and that’s because scout doesn’t know that one of the controllers suck, the port that holds the controller’s wire is loose (he bribed spy for that), and if you tap the tv the wrong way the screen will glitch. but soldier does. also a fat cheater at board games. hides money and cards under his helmet and will DIRECTLY LIE ABOUT THE RULES. medic refuses to play with him because he’s a cheater but nobody believes medic because medic is also…. a fucking cheater.

pyro: those little hand games where you have to know the rhymes? pyro loves those. that can keep them entertained for HOURS. their favorite is the susie had a steamboat one because almost cursing makes them giggle. has a mutual agreement with medic that they will play their respective games with each other since they have both been found guilty in game court and banned. pyro set the board on fire in an act of rage at the possibility that they might go bankrupt, and demo argued it was cheating. gets really good luck on card pulls. won a jackpot at blackjack on an off night at the casino. they donated most of the money to a shelter and threw the rest off a building to the people below. they just…. they didn’t take the cash out of the bag? and is now wanted for questioning of negligent manslaughter.

demo: demo is a card shark; and he will not play for anything less than money and privileges. past that, he likes a good board game until the middle of the game. he’s the kind of guy who makes real-life deals to win a game of monopoly. sore loser, to the point where he’ll start a fistfight if he suspects cheating. he banned medic, engie, and pyro from team game nights because they’re all cheaters. in his defense, he did hold a trial against him all, and they were all found guilty. would probably like dungeons and dragons, but has never played.

heavy: heavy is not much of a game player, but he joins in on game nights because it’s good bonding. a great player because he’s a wild card with no care for the rules, and likes to watch scout lose, as boring as it is to watch him go “good game!”. it takes everyone teaming against scout, but if heavy’s playing, people can breathe a little easier knowing that it’ll be a close game at worst and a total toss up at best. slow decision maker. pyro tried to teach him a hand game once, he didn’t care for it. he also knows that soldier is a cheater, but doesn’t have the heart to get a fourth person banned from game nights because of cheating. he still misses watching the doctor suck at cheating. kind of thinks cheating is in the essence of competitive games. is not a cheater himself. average luck on card pulls. enjoys dominoes.

engineer: also really likes hand games. slaps hands too hard because he gets too into it. pyro never minds that. also a card shark with a mean poker face. also plays go and chess; he’s pretty good but there’s no real competition in the base for him to really hone those skills. also banned from monopoly nights because he was found guilty of cheating, so now on game nights they play uno instead in the next room. a graceful loser, and a sore winner. he’ll shove it down your throat if you lost.

medic: medic is a cheater. a bad one. and a sore player in general. he cannot help himself but to cheat at competitive games, and finds cooperative games boring. insult hurler when things go awry. was the one who actually initiated and created the team court for game night issues, and was the first to be held to trial and found guilty. that infuriated him. he lunged at demo when the verdict came in. LOVES a good card game though, his favorite is speed. don’t even make eye contact he will seduce you to the table with humble promises of him keeping his old hands limber, beat you undebatably and patronize you after, promising you’ll get him next time. and you’ll do it again because he’s like a game playing succubus who wants to slowly crush people’s spirits through the game of speed. it’s like he gets off on it. the closest anyone got is scout and they tied. it almost started a fight because scout would not agree to a rematch, and medic refused their rightful tie. tie refuser. surprisingly graceful winner and loser. but in the midst of the game all bets are off with him. also a fist fighter when it comes to games, and has knocked boards over before. he knows soldier is a cheater and brings it up every time they get ready to play and nobody believes him. he once bribed pyro to burn the game trouble because he was rolling like dog shit and couldn’t get the dice out to weight them.

sniper: snipes dms a dungeons and dragons campaign under an alias online that consists of six party members. he’s a bit of a hardass dm, but he’s become pretty good friends with john from the party, he thinks. good guy, couple of kids and a wife, no known bounty on his head. hates any other game. will reluctantly play poker and then quit after the first hand. frankly just a quitter of games in general. hates competitive games with his team because they all act like they have no sense. it’s like literally playing with children. is normally the peacekeeper for team game nights and will refuse to play because medic and demo fight people over little shit. his most common phrase is “it’s a GAME, YOU CUNTS”. prefers single player games. he’ll schedule his dnd sessions on game nights if he doesn’t want to deal with them. will occasionally indulge pyro in a hand game or two if they ask, though the first time pyro did ask sniper leaned in close and said “do not ask me unless you have asked everybody else and exhausted them”. occasionally indulges medic in a FRIENDLY GAME of uno. will quit the second medic starts getting snappy with him, so the doctor has had to learn that if he wants to play with snipes he’s gotta be nice because “i’m not gonna play your stupid game if you’re gonna act like a dick!”

spy: is one of the party members in snipe’s dnd group, under the identity “john”. he’s really enjoying it and the freedom of being someone else who’s pretending to be something else for fun and not for profit. can’t always join board game nights on the base because dnd sessions fall on the same day sometimes. though he’ll go afk and even miss sessions to watch the fights when they get rowdy, but because “john” has built good rapport with snipes he never complains about the occasional disappearance, though none of the other players are really given that same grace. has a dice collection he paid a lot of money for that he’ll occasionally gift a set to snipes as “john” to keep in his dm’s good graces. tries to join on the poker games when he can, it’s easy money when medic isn’t playing and demos too trashed to see. also plays solo games like solitaire. will never play hand games with pyro. has bad luck with cards he didn’t shuffle.

[mavrintarou]

[4:44 PM] Suna Rintarou

Quickly whipped this because I'm trying to find an excuse to not go to the gym. Nothing edited. I know all I ever post about is Rin, Rin, Kiyoomi, Shinsuke, and Rin again... he was just too fitting for this. I'm really trying to expand my fantasy to the other characters.

Warning: Angst, asshole Rin, makeup smut contents .

Rintarou let out a frustrated sigh having been blocked once again. That was three times now in a row.

“Shake it off!” he heard his teammate shout.

“Suna!” Turning his head, he can see his coach signaling for him to rotate out, switching with his other teammate.

As soon as he was off the court, his coach jerked his head, indicating for him to take the empty seat beside him. “What’s going on?”

Rintarou inhales sharply, “bad day, I guess?” He knew what was going on, just didn’t want to speak of it.

“Well, turn that bad day into a good day, shake it off, everyone needs you.” His coach pats his shoulder, “do whatever you gotta do.”

EPJ Raijin lost their second set, this third game will determine their win or not.

With a towel over his head, Rin zoned out, tuning out the sound of the crowd and everything else around him. The only thing on his mind was Y/n.

Three weeks ago, they abruptly ended their casual fling.

No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t his fault, it was definitely, his fault.

He is a hypocrite.

He was the one who said just casual sex. No feelings.

But the moment he saw her at a table with another man he did not recognize at one of Matsumoto’s top restaurants, he lost his shit.

How dare she doll up and wear a red dress, the red dress he purchased for her to go on a date with this mother fucker.

He watched as Y/n looked at her phone, the smile on her face immediately disappeared. Rin looked down at his phone, seeing the Read underneath the photo he sent her.

Y/n glanced up, her eyes scanning the room until they met his. He arched an eyebrow at her, and she responded by tilting her head, mirroring his expression perfectly.

Bathroom. Now. He texted.

Rin didn’t need to look back to see Y/n following him shortly as he made his way to the restroom.

He tugged her into the private room, locking the door behind him. “Really?” His eyes scanned her from head to toe.

“Really,” Y/n smiled, and she gave him a spin. “Do you not like it?”

Y/n knew how to rile him up, making the green jealous monster within him wake up and flip a table.

Rin stalked towards her, noticing how her smile slowly faded as she stepped back until she hit the counter of the sink. He pressed himself against her, sandwiching her between him and the counter. His fingers trail along her jaw, “does your date know that I purchased this dress and that I’ve fucked you while you were wearing it?”

“Be careful Rintarou,” she only used his full name when she was serious, “jealousy looks good on you but some might believe you’ve developed feelings for me.”

She has become bold, voicing her feelings each day.

Rin was not oblivious. He knows this casual fling between them needs to end. He wasn’t blind to her recent advances.

How her eyes twinkle for him when he comes over.

How she holds him tighter when he’s rocking deeply inside her.

How she whispers his name with love.

How she kisses his palms before a game, giving him luck.

She is expressing her love for him in every possible way except through words. Because the moment she played that card, he would end the game.

“You’re becoming delusional, Y/n.” He gritted, his lips smirking, “I will admit I am jealous, should I show you how jealous I am?”

They glared at one another, Y/n looking deep into his eyes, searching for the man she fell in love with. Deep down, she knew her place. “Do it,” she whispered, “I dare you.”

His eyes darken and she’s flipped around in a blink of an eye. She sees in the mirror as Rin tugs her dress up, bunching it at her hips, his fingers immediately graze over the thin lacy thong, circling her clit.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, biting down on her lip to prevent herself from moaning. “Hurry, I have my date I need to get back to.”

“As you wish.”

Y/n half gasped and yelped at his hand and slapped her right ass cheek. Her thong is pushed to the side as feels his cock sliding in between her thighs.

“You’re soaked, was it me or him?” He began rocking, thrusting in between her thighs. He pulled her against him, locking an arm around her shoulder. He locked eyes with her through the mirror, “answer me.”

“You.” Y/n whispered, “you made me this wet…” she whimpered when he rolled his hips, his cock grazing against her clit. “Please… Rin…”

His teeth nips her earlobe as he reached in between them and align his cock to her pussy and slipped inside in one swift thrust. He wastes no time pounding into her from behind. Y/n’s hand comes to cover her mouth.

His groans are heavy against her ear and he hated it, hated how she made him feel. His teeth bite down on her skin, biting down hard until he can feel Y/n flitching and tightening around his cock.

Rin pulls away, satisfied by his mark, knowing it would be visible. He pauses his movement for a second, maneuvering her until she is bent forward before him. His grip on her hips tightened as he resumed his thrusts, pounding until the small bathroom echoed only of their skin slapping.

Y/n drops onto her elbow, head falling forward as her moans are muffled by her hands. He was thrusting deep inside her, triggering her orgasm faster than usual. “Ri – Rin…” she whimpered, a hand reaching behind to push against his abdomen. “Too fast…”

He gripped her wrist and thrust faster until the moment he felt her pussy flutter around his cock.

“Ah,” he groaned coming undone, pounding into her slowly yet hard with each ejaculation. His eyes suddenly widened, “fuck.”

He forgot to wear a condom.

He let go of her wrist and immediately withdrew, his cock was coated with their essence. It wasn’t a time for his cock to twitch lively again at the sight of his cum leaking down Y/n’s pussy and down her thighs.

He swore again, half turned on and half pissed off at himself.

He always wore a condom.

“Here,” he slammed a few bills on the counter, “get yourself the pill. Let’s end this.”

Rin groaned, covering his face. He was such a fucken asshole.

He glanced down at his palms, feeling disheartened by his poor performance, and was convinced that it was all because Y/n hadn’t kissed his palms before the game.

His mind flashed back to the very first time she had done it. She had come to his game, and just before it started, she called his name and took hold of his wrists. Rin looked at her confused, but she gently turned his palms upward and pressed her lips to the center of his hand. “Good luck kisses,” she whispered with a smile.

“Hey, look it’s Y/n.”

Rin’s head snapped up, and he swiftly removed the towel from his head. Before him stood Motoya, gazing towards the crowd behind Rin. In response, Rin pivoted his upper body and scanned the bustling crowd. “Where?”

“Right there!” Motoya pointed.

Rin’s gaze tracked his pointed finger until it intersected with the eyes of the pair he longed for so intensely.

As if caught in the act, she hastily concealed her face and attempted to make a swift getaway.

“Y/n!” Rin roared over the loud music and crowd chatter, chasing after her. He hopped over the barriers and ascended the stairs with determination. “Y/n!” he called out once more, steadily closing the gap between them as she weaved through the crowd.

Finally, reaching his limit, he lengthened his strides and snagged her wrist, gently drawing her into his embrace. “Stop, please don’t run,” he implored softly. His arms constricted around her, one hand tenderly cradling the back of her head. “Please don’t go,” he whispered.  

She remained tensed in his embrace and softly uttered, “you’re the one who walked away.”

“I know, I’m a fucken fool. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I left you. Please,” he pulled away, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Please come back to me, I am a mess without you. I need you, Y/n. I –” he blinks the tears back, “I’m in love with you, please come back to me, please.”  

Her eyes widen, hearing the words she longed to hear. Tears filled her pretty eyes as she closed them, letting the tears fall down her cheeks before she nodded her head.

Rin sighed in relief and hugged her once more, “thank God. I love you. I love you, Y/n. I love you so fucken much and it took walking away from you to realize I am in love with you all this time.” He leaned back to cup her face, “please, can I kiss you?”

She extended her hand to gently cup his face, drawing him down to meet her lips. Their mouths danced in a graceful, passionate exchange until they parted, both gasping for breath. Their lips inches apart, “I love… I love you too, Rin. I loved you for a long time.”

“I know, I know baby.” He pressed his lips against hers again. “I’m never letting you go again.”

Y/n nodded, “promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

Her eyes widened and she leaned back, “Rin don’t you have a – “

“Suna! Where the fuck did you go? The third set is about to start!”

.

Rin’s mouth never once left Y/n as they stumbled into his apartment. He pulled away briefly to tug off his shirt before his mouth resumed hungrily against hers.

In the grueling third set, EPJ Raijin fought valiantly, shedding blood and sweat, and managed to secure a hard-fought victory. Finally, with the fortunate kisses pressed onto his palm by his beloved, Rin executed his spikes flawlessly, scoring nine crucial points that contributed to their triumphant win.

His hands rest on Y/n’s hips, guiding her backward towards the hall of his place and into his bedroom. He is nervous, almost shy at standing half naked before her. “I… I didn’t get to shower after the game – do you want to shower together?”

Her lips curved upward as she grabbed his hand leading him into his bathroom. She quickly stripped her clothes off and turned on the shower, looking over her shoulder, Rin stood there gawking as if he had never seen her naked before. “You coming?”

He quickly pushed down his joggers and boxers, striding into the shower with her. The water cascaded down their bodies as she reached for his body wash to spread it all over his body.

Rin caught her wrist that was lathering his chest with body wash and brought it down to his cock, he closed her hand around it. He hissed feeling his cock harden from her touch. “Y/n,” he murmured, slowly thrusting into her hand.

Y/n stepped closer, pressed her lips to his left nipple, sucking it gently and swirling her tongue around the bud. Her hand tightens around his cock as she strokes him faster.

He hissed, reaching with his other hand to find her clit, “missed this.”

“I missed this too,” Y/n squeezed his cock, pressing her thumb against the tip. She was about to drop to her knees when he stopped her.

“I need to be inside you, now.” He lifted her, her legs wrapped around his hips and arms around his neck. He easily slipped his cock inside her pussy.

For a brief moment, they savored the intimate moment of being united as one again.

Y/n leaned down and kissed him deeply and passionately, rocking her hips to meet his thrusts. “Ah!” she breaks the kiss, moaning his name. “We – we forgot a condom – again…”

Rin thrust deeper, pressing his lips to her clavicle. “I’m clean, there – there’s been no one but you…”

Y/n’s arms tighten around his shoulder and neck, her lips to his ear, “that’s not what I mean… Rin – we could risk –“

Rin is reminded of the last time he came inside of her. He is selfish but he wanted nothing more than to cum inside of her again, over again and again until he knows she is pregnant.

Y/n pregnant with his baby, he loves the thought of that.

He wanted that.

Y/n moaned loudly into his ear, “you like that?” She tightens her pussy around his cock, hearing him groan, slowing his hips. “You want to knock me up, Rin? You want me to have your baby?” He hummed, agreeing. “You want to breed me?”

“Yes. Fuck yes. I want to breed you. Cum inside you again. And again.” His nose trailed along her neck until he reached her ear, “I’m not asking Y/n, I’m going to cum inside you. I’m going to put a baby – my baby inside you.” He nipped her earlobe, fastening his thrust. He is so closed, all this promise is knocking him over the edge as he is eager to cum inside of her. “You’re mine.”

Y/n tightens her arms and legs around him, chanting, “yes! Want your baby!” Her tummy coils, tightening and her body trembles in release, cumming around his cock.

Rin pressed Y/n against the tile walls, hooking his arms behind her knees and hoisting her weight so he could pound into her pussy with the purpose to breed.

Her overstimulated pussy fluttered around his cock until he painted her womb with his cum.

Walking over to the seat built into his shower, he sits down, keeping Y/n close as she straddles his lap. They catch their breaths, gazing tiredly yet lovingly into each other’s eyes.

Y/n was about to lift herself off of him when he stopped her, “don’t, not yet.”

She relaxed around him, holding onto his shoulders. “You’re serious about baby-making?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “It sounded like in the heat of the moment talk but I’m dead serious. Were you not serious?”

Y/n threaded her fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back. “Aside from you telling me you love me and want to be with me, I want nothing more than to have your baby.” She lifts herself off, letting his flaccid cock fall limp. “But before that, let us focus on just the two of us for now.” She pressed her lips against his, “take me out on a proper date first.”

Rin grins against her lips, “a little out of order but yes, anything you want.”

. . .

E/n: When I'm writing and releasing my dirty imagination, Rin is the only one I can see getting away with this shit. He can talk about breeding any time and I'll be like... "yes daddy." Please don't be like me. Make good choices. Lol. I'm finishing up on Lord Ushijima... I'll share it soon.

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[shiongenkai]

Haku and Zenji 🤔 I noticed you were a fan and was curious about more of your thoughts on them!

- 🍃

Local guy says he'll answer these (checks timestamp) 11 days ago. and then proceeds not to . ANYWAY

hello. i am. a fan of them. I think I might be one of the biggest fans of it in fact, considering the fact that I run that zenji blog. Oops!

Anyway. Strap the fuck in bc this got long as FUCK and it's informal as hell so it's rambly. Sorry

The gayest thing you can call another man is Old Friend.

No but ships aside, Haku and Zenji are fascinating. Just like...

Starting with the obvious of Haku being the only one who could see Zenji for a good six months, or the fact that Haku puts in so much effort for Zenji all the time, or the fact that they reference each other a lot, or so on so forth. It's so extremely clear to me that they both care about each other in one way or another, and it's clear that they're just like. Paired?

Which is to say, Subaru is very accommodating to Haku, and very kind. He treats Haku as though he's the captain instead of Subaru himself, and he gives a lot of leeway for things Haku does in general. This is partially due to his own secrets (in my opinion), but Subaru is really like, almost hands off with Haku. He hypes him up when he can and doesn't really ever speak bad about him. Zenji, on the other hand, is welcoming but not necessarily like... unconditionally so?

Haku is a lout. He's uncouth, or ungentlemanly, or stupid or whatever other adjectives Zenji has used for him again and again. Zenji criticizes Haku (sometimes unfairly) and hypes him up in equal measures. You know Zenji's compliments towards Haku are sincere then, because you can see what he says when he DOESN'T have something to compliment Haku on. And Haku, in turn, is the same with Zenji. Haku is more likely to say some out of pocket comment towards Zenji, but Haku in general is really more of an Actions guy.

Which is to say, holding an umbrella up for Zenji in the rain. Recording him, even as the students around them call Haku gross. Editing them, posting them. Replying to comments. Managing the channel. Giving him advice, telling him what sort of videos he wants to see, listening to his pieces (sometimes), telling him what to give MC for Valentines day, etc. Haku isn't as Compliment-y as Zenji, but he certainly shows his affection (platonically) towards Zenji in a multitude of ways.

And like... If you think about it, yes, Haku is the only one Zenji had, but in some weird way, Zenji is that for Haku too. Haku is a transfer into Hotarubi, and though he's vice-captain, he doesn't really seem to Enjoy that position. And like, we already know that other transfers have gossip surrounding them, and pairing that with Haku's vague statements about his backstory, we can see he's like. An outsider. Just in general, Haku views himself as an outsider, though he's good at masquerading as someone in the in-group. But with Zenji, he's important, but not in a way that has too many Stakes. You know? Like.

Haku cares about Zenji and puts in effort, but he can also just. Leave. Just walk away in the middle of Zenji's song, or tune it out, or any number of things. He can ignore Zenji if he wanted. It's fine. Sometimes Zenji ignores him, too. It's a casual thing, but not in the sense that it's shallow?

Haku and Zenji fall into a category I like to call 'opposite sides of the same coin'. Both are deeply lonely at their core, but express it in opposite ways and embody it in opposite ways. Haku keeps his cards close to his chest and Zenji expresses them openly. Haku is surrounded by people and still feels like an outsider. Zenji is surrounded by, most of the time, nobody, and feels perfectly connected to them all. Haku thinks more than he feels, Zenji feels more than he thinks. They balance each other out in a very, very interesting way, and I think like. Just small parts here and there really stick out to me. Haku always phrases things in a way that includes Zenji without tipping his existence off to others. Haku never slips up about him, never tells others unless Zenji is ready for them to know. He covers for Zenji even at his own cost. Even MC frequently, and I mean frequently, fucks up regarding Zenji. But Haku doesn't. I bet that's comforting to him.

It's just like!!! Man!!! MAN!!! IS ANYONE STILL READING? I FEEL INSANE. The line where Haku says that there's 'Somebody he wants to help' and that's why he works so hard for everybody? Being implied to be Zenji? Or the fact that Zenji doesn't want to move on, and Haku doesn't make him? Or how Zenji trusts Haku So Goddamn Much? OR LIKE. AUGH. IT HURTS. THEY'RE SO!!!!!!!

I'm really so excited for the new chapter. I really want to see them interact more, or at least see Zenji nagging Haku more. It's so cute... Haku teasing Zenji too! Which he does a lot! And Zenji falling for it every time. It's a penname, Haku! A pen name! How many times does he have to say it? Probably eight billion more bc Haku is just doing it to mess with him. AUHGH.

[yanderedbdimagines]

I came to your blog and I already love it !!! ^^. So I wanted to ask if you could maybe do another Yandere Legion with each one of them. As a breakup scenario (where the reader wants to break up but they don't allow it to say so). I just didn't find any ^^

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

Thank you kindly for liking my blog! :D That makes me very happy to hear. I have the feeling each member of the Legion can react very differently in a situation as this one, and each using a different tactic to try and force you to change your mind. On the long term perspective too as I did with Frank. 

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

Warning!: NSFW elements are present!

Frank Morrison

Frank squares his jaw, his eyes reflecting anything but an emotion that could be considered understanding.

“Why?”

His voice is sharp and clipped. Like a blade poised at your throat. There’s no confusion in his tone, no real effort to understand. Just challenge.

You swallow hard, already bracing for the tantrum that’s most likely about to come.

“Because you’re a killer.”

For a moment, there’s silence. A flicker of something unreadable crosses his gaze, but then, an exhale. A slow, measured breath before his lips curl into a smirk. He shakes his head, amusement flashing in his expression, like you just said something ridiculous.

Like you just said the dumbest thing in the universe.

Then, Frank scoffs. A dry, humorless laugh follows as he tilts his head, sizing you up with that same cocky smirk that always comes right before things spiral.

“Well, no shit.” His tone is casual, but there’s tension coiling beneath it, tight and unreadable. His fingers flex, and then... “Didn’t hear you complaining about that when I fucked you just over a little while ago.”

Your stomach tightens. And he sees it.

Oh, he sees it.

His gaze sharpens, watching for the flicker of hesitation, the telltale signs of doubt. He expected you to get angry, to lash out. To give him something he can work with. Because anger? He can handle. Anger is something that he can twist.

Because if you fight, he might as well have won.

If you fight, you both fall into the same rhythm, the same cycle. Where the arguments blur into something heated- sexual. Something he can use to remind you exactly why you need him. How much he needs you. Where he can strip away all your reasons with the weight of his body, the press of his hands, the way he whispers between gritted teeth that you’re fucking his and always will be.

And after that?

He always finds a way to make you see things his way again.

So, he pushes.

“You knew what I was from the start,” he murmurs, stepping forward. His fingers twitch at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to reach for you, to pull you back in. To remind you how easily he can make you forget.

“You’re really gonna pull the morality card now? After everything?” His voice dips lower, rougher. “No one else is gonna love you the way I do, babe. No one’s gonna understand you the way I do. And you damn well know it.”

That’s the hook.

He’s said it before, but this time, it doesn't sink in like it used to.

Because this time, you see it.

How many times have you been here before? How many times has he dangled his love like a chain around your throat, tugging it tight whenever you start pulling away?

You exhale shakily, shaking your head. His fingers twitch again, his control fraying at the edges, but he holds back. Barely.

“That’s not love, Frank.”

A crack. Just for a second. A flicker of something beneath the smirk, something vulnerable, something raw. Then it’s gone.

His lips curl tighter, his jaw flexing before he exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair before readjusting his hoodie.

“Fuck. You’re fucking serious.”

You don’t answer.

His jaw clenches. His whole body seems to go rigid, and you feel the weight of his gaze, the way it pins you in place.

This is the moment. The moment where he could snap. Where the mask could slip and he’d decide, right here and now, that if you won’t stay willingly, he’ll make you.

You brace yourself for it. For the anger. For his possessive touch.

But it doesn’t come. Instead, he takes a step back. He's letting you go.

Not because he’s given up.

It’s because he knows... He knows that you’ll come crawling back to him. That you’ll realize, sooner or later, that there’s no one else in this realm who can hold you like he does. That the realms outside of him are cold, cruel and unbearable.

That you need him.

“Fine.” He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets, but his eyes stay locked on you, dark and keenly aware. “Go ahead. Walk away.”

He tilts his head slightly away from you, watching you closely.

“But you’ll be back by my side soon enough.”

It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.

And if he has to chase you to the ends of the Entity’s realms to make it so…

So be it. Because in his mind, it’s far from over.

Joey

Joey's fingers clamp down on your arm, stopping you mid-step as you try to turn away. His grip is firm. There’s no room for escape. Not with the strength he's possessed ever since he was taken by the Fog.

“You can’t do this,” he growls, his voice sharp with a raw intensity you haven’t heard before. “Not now. Not after everything we’ve been through to make this work.”

His chest rises and falls with sharp breaths, his eyes wide, wild and frantic. There’s an edge to his voice now, which slashes through the air like a jagged knife, something that makes your stomach twist in warning. His pulse quickens, his heartbeat thundering in his chest.

You try to pull away, but his hand doesn’t loosen, doesn’t budge. “You think you can just walk away from me? From us? After everything?” His voice cracks, a mixture of frustration and something else that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Joey steps forward, closing the space between you. The Entity’s realms are vast and endless, yet right now, it feels suffocating.

“You think this is just some game?” His words are laced with venom now, his tone harsh. He chuckles bitterly when you don’t respond to his question, but there’s no humor in it. “We made this work. You know we did. You felt it, too.” His eyes lock onto yours, burning. Too intense. His gaze flickers between your face and your lips before snapping back up, like he’s daring you to deny it.

Another step forward, and you can feel his breath on your skin. There’s a visible madness in his gaze now. Familiar, but more intense and dangerous than you can remember. You know that look. It’s the same look he gets before he’s about to push everything too far. That dark, feral hunger that seeps in when his obsession drowns out reason.

“We’re perfect together. You know we are. No one else gets you the way I do. No one else can love you like I can,” he insists, his voice low, almost pleading.

The words are like a punch to your gut, and you flinch, pulling your arm as best you can. But Joey’s hand tightens with bruising pressure, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go for even a second.

“No one else understands you. No one else will fight for you like I will.” He hisses, his teeth gritted, his chest rising and falling with each breath. “You’re mine. You belong to me. You’re mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.” He's crumbling apart. You see the desperation, the panic. He’s not just angry. He’s terrified. Terrified that if you leave, you won’t come back. Terrified that the worlds outside the Entity will pull you away from him forever.

“You can’t leave me, not like this.” His tone is low, almost a growl. “I won’t let you.”

The grip on your arm is crushing now. His hand feels like a vice, his nails pressing into your skin, almost drawing blood. But he doesn’t care. He just wants to keep you close. He doesn’t care about your freedom, doesn’t care about your space. He only cares about you.

His voice softens for a moment, almost tender, but it’s still laced with that possessive, obsessive need. “You’re the only thing that matters. You know I can’t be without you. Please. Don’t do this to me.” His gaze flickers, the rage fighting with the desperation. He’s losing control, and he knows it.

You take a step back. A weak attempt at distancing yourself from him.

He easily follows, closing the gap in a single, bigger stride, his body pressing close enough that you feel the heat of him seeping through his clothes. His breath is hot against your ear, uneven now, like he’s barely keeping himself together.

“I’m not letting you go. You’re not leaving me.” His voice is sharp and final, the edge of a command woven into it. “You think you can get away from me? In this place? With nowhere to go?”

Your heart races, and for a second, you feel suffocated. There’s no way out. Not from him, not from the pull he has over you.

He smiles, but it’s not kind. It’s a dark, knowing smile, full of self-satisfaction. “I won’t let you go. You’ll come back if you manage to leave me. You always come back. You need me.” It’s the truth, as far as he’s concerned.

His eyes gleam with a delusional light, as if he’s certain of your return. And in the pit of your stomach, you feel the unease settle in.

“You can’t escape this,” His lips move, just barely, brushing against your jaw as he whispers, “I’ll make sure of it.”

You try to jerk your arm back again, but it’s like being cuffed to concrete at this point. “You’re mine.” he repeats. “No survivor is ever going to love you the way I do. None of them will ever understand you.” And then, before you can react, his lips are on yours.

Brief. Unrelenting. Not a kiss. Not really. It’s more like a claim. A reassurance.

When he pulls back, his breath is still warm against your skin, his grip still locked around you like a promise he’ll never let break.

“I’m the only one who does, and always will.”

And with that final, chilling declaration, you know; he’s not letting go. Not now. Not ever.

Julie

Julie presses the back of her hand against her nose, as if that alone could smother the frustration flickering across her features. Her breath comes in slow, deep and controlled. When she finally meets your gaze again, her expression is calm and her voice steady.

"We made this work for so long. Why are you trying to throw it away now?"

There’s no anger in her tone. Only quiet disappointment, something that tugs at the edges of your chest despite everything.

You hesitate.

She notices.

She tilts her head slightly, waiting, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make you second-guess yourself.

"Because the other survivors are starting to suspect me," you finally say, voice lower than you intended. "Think about it. If you were one of us, wouldn’t it seem at least a little strange? A certain survivor slipping away at odd times, more often than the rest, despite killers lurking beyond the campfire’s light?"

You shake your head. "How long before they start asking real questions? Before they may turn on me?"

Julie exhales through her nose, her fingers flexing for just a second before she releases them, smoothing her palms over her jeans.

"Me and the rest can protect you from them," she says. There’s certainty in her voice, a confidence that makes it sound almost silly to be worried. "You know that, right?"

Your frown deepens.

"That’s not the point. I don’t-"

"Maybe there’s an even better solution," she interrupts smoothly.

You narrow your eyes. "And what’s that?"

Julie’s lips part in a small, knowing smile. It’s soft, reassuring. But there’s something behind it. Calculated, which makes the air feel just a bit heavier.

"Stop being a survivor."

Your stomach drops.

"But-“

"You don’t have to become a killer," she continues, as if she hadn’t just shattered your reality in a single breath. "Not if you don’t want to. But there are other ways you can help. You could stay at the resort with me. Live with me there, away from all the trials and all the danger."

She inches closer, voice quieter now, persuasive, patient. "It’ll be like you never even left the survivor camp. I’ll make sure the others accept you. I’ll talk to Frank. I’ll talk to Susie and Joey. You know they trust me. That we are one."

You feel like you should argue, should push back, but her words are flowing around you like sweet milk, smoothing over the sharp edges of your doubt.

Because she sounds so reasonable.

Because she always knows exactly what to say to make you reconsider.

"Julie." You take a slow breath. "That’s not normal. You know that, right?"

She laughs under her breath, shaking her head slightly. "Not normal?" Her lips part into something almost amused. "You’re saying that like anything about these realms has ever been normal."

She reaches out, her fingers grazing your wrist. Not gripping. Just a gentle touch.

"Think about it, babe," she murmurs, voice dipping into something softer, dangerously close to affection. "What do you really have left with them?"

Her fingers trace lightly up your forearm, her touch feather light, almost absentminded, like she isn’t trying to persuade you, like she isn’t watching every reaction on your face with laser focus.

"They’re already suspicious of you. You know that. It’s only a matter of time before they push you out, before they stop trusting you completely."

She shifts slightly, her thumb smoothing over your pulse.

"But me?" Her smile widens. "I’ll never turn on you. Not like they will."

There’s a promise in her words, one that sounds so sweet, so tempting. A future with her, safe, far from the trials, far from the fear of being hunted every single moment.

But your gut twists.

"You want me to leave everything behind? For you?"

Julie blinks at you, then lets out a soft, almost pitying scrape of her voice. "I’m not making you do anything. I’m giving you a choice. The smartest choice you’ll ever make."

Her eyes darken slightly, her fingers pressing just a little bit firmer against your skin. But not too firm, as it’s her attempt to an act of comfort.

"One that’s going to save you from any more harm."

Susie

She’s trembling.

You can’t tell if it’s from anger, shock, or some toxic mixture of both. Her wide eyes bore into you. Unblinking and unreadable. Her chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths, like she’s struggling just to keep herself grounded.

Her hands twitch at her sides. Like she can’t decide whether to grab you or brace herself before she completely falls apart.

Then, a giggle. Soft. Breathless. Almost… wrong.

"You're joking."

The words slip out in a whisper, followed by another quiet laugh- fragile, forced, like she’s trying to convince herself this is all just some stupid joke.

The dim light catches the metallic glint of her braces when she grins, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

You don’t answer.

Her smile twitches. The trembling gets worse.

"You are joking, right?"

There’s something off in her voice now, cracking at the seams. You hear it in the way her breath hitches, in the way her fingers curl into the fabric of her hoodie, gripping it so tight you can practically hear the material strain under the pressure.

You swallow hard.

"Susie… I-"

She lunges.

Her hands grasp your shirt, twisting the fabric in her fists as she presses herself closer. Her breath is coming out in quick, frantic puffs. Her wide, dilated eyes bore into yours, wavering somewhere between devastation and blind, desperate hope.

"You don’t mean that."

Her voice is higher now, almost childlike in its insistence.

"You love me. You said you love me. You wouldn’t leave me."

Your pulse jumps. You take a step back, but she clings to you, her fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes. Her knuckles go pale from how tightly she’s holding on.

"You’re just confused," she whispers, voice thinning. "That’s all. You’re saying things you don’t mean. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe those stupid Survivors put weird ideas in your head." She laughs again. Short and hiccupy. It’s not right.

"It’s okay! It’s okay! I can fix it. You just have to tell me what I need to change."

Her fingers trail up, shaking hands cupping your face. Her touch is almost gentle, except for the tremor in her fingertips, the erratic way her breathing stutters in her throat. Her expression shifts. Unstable laughter fading into a sickly sweet lilt of the voice.

"I won’t let you forget how much I actually love you."

Her thumbs brush over your cheeks in slow, feather light strokes- affectionate, even. But her body is still trembling, her breath still uneven.

Then, her grip tightens. Her nails almost bite into your skin, enough to send a prickle of discomfort through you. Her pupils narrow.

A sharp edge slices through whatever fragile calm she had been trying to hold onto.

"You can’t leave me until I have." The words are flat.

The shift is instant. One moment, she’s pleading. The next, she’s something else entirely. She’s swinging in a way you’ve never seen her do before.

"No, no, no, no, no," she mutters under her breath like a broken record, her entire frame vibrating with unchecked emotion. "You cannot leave me."

Then, she shoves you. Hard. An easy feat due to the Entity’s gift. One given to every killer.

Your back collides with the nearest surface, knocking the air from your lungs. You barely have a second to recover before she’s on you again, staring at you.

Her eyes are too wide, pupils swallowing what little color remains. Her pink-dyed strands of hair are messy, sticking to her damp forehead, clinging to the edges of her hoodie like static. The sleeves hang loose around her wrists, but her fingers twitch at the cuffs; grasping, flexing, restless.

"Why are you doing this to me?!"

Her voice cracks, raw and piercing.

Her nails scrape against your shoulders. Digging in just enough to make you flinch.

"You don’t get it, do you?!" she chokes out, breath hitching, face twisting. "You don’t get how much I love you! How much I need you!"

She’s unraveling, falling deeper into something dangerous, something you can’t pull her out of anymore.

"I gave you everything! And there’s still so much left to give!" Her voice wavers, a tremor shaking through her frame. She’s not making any sense…

Then, suddenly, her hands rip away from you. Instead, she tangles them into her pink hair, clutching at the strands, her body trembling as she sucks in sharp, stuttering breaths.

Like she’s physically trying to hold herself together.

Her chest rises and falls too quickly, her hoodie slipping slightly from her shoulder, revealing a faint hickey, old and fading, one of many. Her fingers tighten in her hair.

Then, slowly. Too slowly. She lifts her head.

And she smiles.

Not her usual shy, uncertain smile.

This one is different.

"You’re funny."

Her voice is sweet again. Sing-song and all. It makes your skin crawl.

She takes a slow step forward. Calculated. Amused.

"You really think you can break up with me?"

A giggle bubbles up, soft and giddy.

"That’s cute, babe. Really cute."

Her fingers ghost up your arm. Barely a touch, featherlight.

But the finality in her voice makes your stomach twist.

"We are a couple. I won’t let you break us apart."

She’s still trembling from the emotional whiplash, but her grip is steady when she reaches for your wrist, fingers curling around it with deceptive gentleness.

"We belong together."

A hum, followed by the tilt of her head.

"And I’ll make sure you never forget that again."

She presses closer.

Her breath ghosts over your skin.

"Because if you do?"

Her lips barely brush against yours as she breathes out the next words, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I’ll make sure to remind you why you fell for me in the first place."

[just-a-creep-babe]

Graveyard Shift - Part 5

Eyeless Jack x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Commissioned by @salixlantana <3 Thank you luv, I hope you enjoy! <33

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

As Jack predicted, being let in once makes it infinitely easier to return

Her trust seems to grow with every passing day, every passing moment he’s in her proximity and he leaves her unscathed

The next time he approaches her at the hospital, he’s not sure if he merely imagines it, but her face almost seems to light up at the sight of him

It brings another strange kind of warmth to his chest

The girl glances around at their surroundings, as if to check if anyone’s nearby, then speaks

“Back for more?”

He hums deeply, nodding

“At this point, you might as well get your own access card,” she rolls her eyes, trying to look exasperated, but he doesn’t miss the faint smile lingering on her lips even as she says it

He snickers, the sound gravelly in his chest

“What’s the fun in that—I wouldn’t have an excuse to see you, otherwise~”

Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she tries to hide it by looking down, looking anywhere but at him

Fuck, how is she so fucking cute?

He gets the sudden urge to brush some of her hair to the side, pull his mask down and kiss her

He can practically just imagine the little whimper of surprise she’d make before slowly melting into him

He can probably make her knees weak with just a few touches

“L-listen, I get that you’re also helping people with all of this stuff I’m providing you with, but I still think it’d be easier for me to digest constantly stealing these things if I knew more about it—more about you”

She says the word stealing beneath her breath, just above a whisper, as if she’s still nervous someone might overhear

Her innocence is way too endearing

(Y/n) really expects an answer this time

A straight, honest, no-beating-around-the-bush kind of answer

The two have been, after all, steadily adjusting to one another, and it’s the least he could do after everything she’s provided for him

But when he takes a menacing step closer, she knows she’s not getting what she wants

And she realizes she might have been a tad too brave in confronting him

She’s backed into a corner once again, and this time, he rests an arm above her head, almost casually, but there’s a menacing undertone to it all as he traps her between his thick yet lean muscles

She forgets way too easily how sheerly intimidating he can be when he wants to be

He leans in, pauses, then he’s tilting his head to the side

She can hear him inhaling through his mask, and her heart nearly drops

He’s smelling her—deeply

She’s almost convinced it’s because she smells bad or something, but then his chest rumbles with a low, quiet sound of approval

Is he purring?

“(Y/n)~”

Crap

Her thighs instinctively clamp shut

Her scent

Her scent is divine

The faint perfume of her arousal clings in the air between them, and he almost has to stop himself from coaxing her legs apart to drag his fingers between them

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warns, and the spike of fear mixing in with her aroma is utterly mouthwatering, “Don’t forget why you’re doing all of this in the first place. It’s certainly not because I gave you a choice in the matter”

She usually wouldn’t retaliate

Not when he’s so latently threatening her like this

But she understands him better now, and even though her heart’s pumping and the adrenaline rushing through her veins, she knows he won’t hurt her so readily

Or at least, she hopes not

“Why won’t you tell me? What’re you hiding?”

If he wasn’t wearing his mask right now, she’d be able to see the wide grin on his face at her flagrant bravery

“How about this, then,” he says, pushing off the wall to grant her personal space

She almost feels a twinge of longing as he does, like she misses the warmth of his body hovering so closely to hers, but she forces it down, forces herself to ignore it

“How about,” he continues, “every time you bring me something I need, or let me in when the weather’s bad, or do something—anything useful for me, I’ll answer one of your questions entirely truthfully and honestly”

“Deal”

She doesn’t think twice before accepting, but then he snickers, and she tries to keep up the brave front but it, admittedly, cracks around the edges

“But,” he adds mischievously, “in exchange, you can’t deny anything I ask of you—whether that be favors or questions or anything in between”

The girl looks at him, warily, trying to decipher what he might be planning with this kind of arrangement

Her teeth chew at her bottom lip, and the masked man tilts his head again, his chest rumbling with another chuckle

“…Well? Do you agree, little lamb?”

He offers up his hand, the dark veins a prominent contrast against his ashen skin, and the whole thing brings more cracks of doubt to her facade

But then she finally figures, fuck it

With the amount of things she’s stolen, she’s already in deep—she’d lose her job in a best-case scenario, and she doesn’t even want to think about the worst-case scenario

Honestly, she might as well get some kind of guaranteed information out of him

Besides, he’s clearly stronger, faster, and physically superior to her in every way—he could play her like a puppet regardless of whether or not she agrees

So with a nod, she releases her lip from her teeth, and meets him halfway to shake on it

She tries not to think about how much bigger his hand is compared to hers—it completely wraps around hers, completely engulfing hers in his heat

“Alright… deal,” she accepts

And, again, if he didn’t have his mask on, she’d be able to see the sharp-fanged grin curling at his lips that would maybe make her rethink the decision yet again

“Perfect~” he hums darkly

Sneaking around needles, IV drips, blood bags, pill bottles, and, really, any kind of medical supplies isn’t the easiest thing to do

But she’s grateful that he, at the very least, didn’t ask for fresh human organs this time

The memory brings an uncomfortable shiver down her spine

After letting him into her house and asking those few questions, she knows now that he’s in a similar line of work, and those organs could’ve very well been used in a life-saving transplant or something

But she isn’t gullible enough to take his word so easily—she still doubts his credibility and ulterior motives

Realistically, he could be doing anything with all the things she’s provided him with

It’s almost nauseating to think about

She blows out a breath of air to relieve some tension

Focus, she thinks, she can’t afford to get caught sneaking around

She honestly wonders why he doesn’t just do it himself, considering he blends in with the shadows like second nature

He wouldn’t have an excuse to see her, otherwise

She shivers again

She’d dismissed the love letters and gifts as a test, but that original uncertainty crawls its way back into her mind

Why her?

Why would he even be interested in her—of all people?

The memory of him standing in her entrance, dripping wet with his clothes clinging to his figure, flashes to mind

He’s so big

He’s so strong

She remembers the angle of his jawline when he lifted his mask to drink, and the faint hints of the shape of his lips when he ate that pastry

Her own mouth suddenly feels dry

What is she thinking?

She’s romanticizing her own stalker—of all things

It’s so absurd that she nearly laughs

But she quickly stops herself when, in the hallway up ahead, she catches a glimpse of a security guard walking past, doing his rounds as usual

Shit, she thinks, stopping dead in her tracks

She needs to stop overthinking and start focusing

When she eventually returns to their usual meetup spot, the room is… empty

No humanoid figure lurking in the shadows, no soulless eye sockets fixated on her, as far as she can tell

No Jack in sight

With a sigh, she places everything on a counter, then looks over everything she’s stolen, as if it could clue her in as to what he might be doing with it

Her heart’s still pounding in her chest with that rush of adrenaline from sneaking around

She presses a hand to her heart, feels her pulse—wild and irregular—and sighs again, trying to relax

She did it, it’s over for now

She hopes she’ll get more used to it if it keeps being a regular occurrence

A few seconds tick by in the quiet silence of the room, and she realizes just how much has changed over the past few months

She used to be terrified of coming into this room, she used to despise the thought of any kind of rule-breaking—much less stealing from a hospital, of all things

Whether or not she wants to admit it, this Jack guy changed her

It’s scary to think that some mysterious stranger was able to hijack her life so easily

But it’s also kind of exhilarating

Just thinking about it has her stomach doing flips

Christ—what is she thinking about again?

She shakes the thought away

Consistently working the graveyard shift means less time for a social life, and try as she might to rectify that, she’s growing increasingly lonely

Combined with her initial plan of putting some distance between her and her loved ones in order to protect them from Jack, and she’s truly developed a shrinking social circle

It’s just the loneliness, she tells herself; she’s only thinking about him this way because she’s lonely, and she hasn’t been keeping up with her friends, and her dating pool is essentially non-existent by this point

It’s not because she’s actually attracted to him, not because he’s actually breath-taking in a mystifying kind of way

Certainly not because she’s never seen a man so powerful yet so gentle, so terrifying yet alluring, so gorgeous yet—

She yelps, jumping as a pair of hands grab a hold of her

She spins around, eyes frantic and wild, expecting to have finally gotten caught red-handed

But all that’s there is a familiar figure, with that azure mask gushing that deep black liquid

She can’t see his face, but she can just imagine the shit-eating grin he has on his face

“F-fuck—Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!”

He chuckles, the sound velvety smooth as it rumbles through his chest, and (y/n) pretends to be insulted

“You know, if you actually scare me to death one day, I won’t be able to get you all of these things anymore”

She shakes her head, then continues

“And anyway, I’ve held up my part of the deal—now, it’s your turn to pay up”

He makes an open gesture with his hands, almost like a fake bow

“I’m a creature of my word; ask away~”

“Just who, exactly, are you helping with these supplies—to the point where they need this much so regularly?”

Jack takes a moment to think about her question, to think about how to answer in a way that’s least likely to scare her away

He could probably mention treating the creeps, and if he’s subtle about it, she might not get too freaked out

But then, there’s the question about his diet

The few times he’d asked for fresh organs had clearly freaked her out, and he can’t imagine she’d react well knowing that’s what he eats

He gives her a once-over, then decides she’s not ready to hear that answer

He can’t risk it

“I told you I helped people, didn’t I?” he finally responds

She huffs, folding her arms over her chest

Fuck, that’s so cute

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to get over how fucking adorable she is sometimes, especially when she’s frustrated

And especially when she’s scared

“That’s not enough information. The quantity I’ve been delivering is way more than one average person needs to heal up a few people on the rare occasion…”

She hesitates for a second, as if she’s debating whether or not she should vocalize her thoughts

He tilts his head

Say it, he wants to say

But he remains quiet, giving her the time she needs

“Are they like… criminals or something? Is that why they won’t go to regular hospitals? Or are you like… selling all this stuff on the black market or something?”

He can tell the idea makes her uncomfortable, and he can tell she doesn’t wants to believe that might be the case

If only she knew she wasn’t that far off

“I need a lot of supplies because, like myself, the people that I’m dealing with aren’t entirely… people”

He smiles bitterly beneath his mask, not that she can see it

And then he watches as she digests the information, trying to make sense of it all at once

“So, they’re, like… supernatural beings?”

He hums with a nod

“And what exactly… are they?” she asks

Another hum, this time with a shrug

“Depends,” he admits, “they’re not all the same. Some have made deals with entities beyond their comprehension, and now they pay the price, doomed to blindly follow orders for the rest of eternity”

He watches the mix of emotions on her face, then continues

“Some have died before their time, and have festered into beings of revenge. Some were born that way, others were transformed by the cruel luck of the world”

He shrugs

“Everyone has their own story”

“And… yours?” she finally asks, “You’ve barely told me anything about what you are, and how you came to be like this, and all the things that make you different from everyone else”

He smiles, endeared by her curiosity

“One question, little morsel, you had one question to ask~”

Later that night, (y/n) lies in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, playing back the events in her head

She realizes she won’t be able to sleep if she thinks about it too much, the implications of it all, so instead, she tries to force her mind off it

She thinks about her family, and how she should reach out more often

She thinks about her friends, and how much she misses them, and how she should make more of an active effort to keep up with them

Doing both of these things might jeopardize their safety, but not talking to them is slowly driving her insane

Surely, she could find some kind of balance

She inevitably ends up thinking about her love life, lackluster and desolate as it may be

She thinks about the single person she’s been interested in, despite the odds, and the more she thinks about it, the more she really lets herself explore the idea, the more she can feel her body coming to life at the thought

She releases a shaky breath

How long had it been since she’d last taken care of her needs?

Her hands trail down her body

She needs this, she realizes, she needs relief

[writefightandflightclub]

Sugar

Grad student!Nathan Bateman x older!fem!reader

Author’s note: I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS CONCEPT TBH BUT DON’T WANT TO GIVE SPOILERS SO WARNINGS ARE NON-EXHAUSTIVE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK I GUESS? (As ever, minors DNI, thank you!) And I blame Oscar at MEFCC in the black polo and @nowritingonthewall’s hc of young!Nathan sneaking into tech conferences for this one. (I’m imagining him as getting towards his mid twenties here.)

Word count: just a short one!

Warnings: power / wealth imbalance, and slight warning for dub-con due to this. Sexual touching (slightly public). Infidelity. Alcohol consumption (reader). As mentioned above, warnings are non-exhaustive this time to avoid spoilers. If you do need further info, however, you are welcome to DM or send an ask.

“Not touching the oysters?” Nathan asks in as suave a tone as he can muster. The only oyster he’s personally sampled, so far, is the oyster sauce at his favourite downtown take-out.

Your plate of extravagant buffet food is discarded next to you, however, as you pore over a stack of documents at the hotel bar, a martini in a tall, flared glass languishing in your free hand.

You whip your head towards Nathan and look him up and down; as though deciding whether he’s worth the time of day, or whether you should immediately summon security to remove him from your field of vision. You seem to find him relatively inoffensive, at least, and grant him permission to remain in your orbit; for now. You hum contemplatively. “Decided I’ve had my fill of vile sensations for today,” you announce in a cool, assured tone. “I had to fuck my husband this morning. Twice.”

Nathan emits a low whistle. As much as he tries to take it in his stride - to act like he’s accustomed to affluent, worldly, cut-throat women like you - he isn’t. Honestly, he’s barely accustomed to anyone at all lately, since he’s immersed himself entirely in getting his start-up off the ground.

You’re older. Older than him, at least. Older than any woman he’s been with so far, he can’t help but think. That, along with your candidness, is refreshing. You’re not all giggly and earnest and chaotic like the young women he’s met around campus - which sounds far less exhausting to him, if he’s honest.

He looks you up and down in return. And, yeah. Shit. He definitely wants to fuck you.

“He doesn’t get you off?” Nathan asks, crude and casual, as though he has any business asking. However, he’s found that a complete disregard for social norms can -oddly- sometimes pan out in his favour. Sometimes. Besides, on this occasion he has to risk it, or social norms would dictate that he shouldn’t approach you at all. At least not before he’s in possession of an invitation-only credit card, or, has made a hard-to-come by appointment via your PA at the very least.

You take a sip of your drink and eye him over the brim. He likes that move. Your eyes are full of deliciously dark amusement as you appraise him. He thinks you may even like what you see. Might even find him refreshing too. “Well. It’s not love - or anything else so impractical. It’s strictly a business arrangement,” you explain, as though you have been waiting for an opportunity to vent and no-one has actually bothered to ask you. “He pays for my lifestyle and I put out. And occassionally have to, you know, run his fucking company, attend boring conferences to schmooze his investors, and generally mask his total ineptitude.” You gesture around you vaguely. From the tiredness in your tone, it makes sense that you’re hiding out in this deserted hotel bar, Nathan thinks.

He knows fine well who your husband is too. A guy many, many years your senior. Obscenely rich fucker too. CEO and founder of a huge ass telecoms company, recently diversified into various markets across the tech world. The company is running an agressive acquisition policy, buying out start-ups and hoping to find something that sticks. The “next big thing”. It hasn’t succeeded yet. Projections look mediocre at best.

Nathan, who very much considers his innovation the “next big thing” - the only game in town - had tried to corner your husband at the end of his rather lacklustre panel. After all, he’d done his research. Had identified the highest value targets he could network with in attempts to drum up some investment. He is trying to bolster his sorely under-funded start-up… which, if he is honest, has barely even “started” at all. He knows the tech. The code. He’s a certified genius, for God’s sake. He was just a fool for thinking that that alone would be enough. Frustratingly for him, it’s the schmoozing and understanding of the cold realities of the business world he struggles with. He seems to rub people up the wrong way, for some reason. Probably because they’re all assholes. Or, maybe, because they view him as too young or too rough around the edges to know what he’s talking about. Or, most likely, because they’re uninspired bastards incapable of comprehending his world-changing vision. Maybe all of the above.

So much then, for the supposed merits of the free market and the idea that the best ideas will prosper. His idea is the best, and he’s floundering simply because his daddy can’t buy him his way in. Instead of a reliance on the strength of the product, networks and power and money and nepotism appear to be king in this world. And, Nathan possesses none of these advantages. Even with the buzz around him at his faculty, and his full ride scholarship at 17 for being a fucking genius.

Anyway, after a failed attempt to schmooze your asshole husband, Nathan had quickly put together that the guy didn’t have a goddamn clue. That you were the brains (and beauty, by the way) behind the operation, and he was likely little more than the funds.

Also, the guy definitely didn’t seem like he’d be a pleasant fuck, by any stretch.

He grimaces somewhat at the thought.

“That’s what they say isn’t it?” You take a breezy sip of your drink. “Fake it until you make it? They’re talking about orgasms, sweetheart, and my last performance paid for these shoes.” You kick out your appealing leg, your shins bare and smooth beneath your pencil skirt, and you briefly show off your shiny, black, red-soled heels.

They’re nice. Sexy, on you.

Nathan briefly wonders why you’re being so forthcoming with him, a complete stranger; but you don’t strike him as someone who gives a shit in the slightest what other people think. You also strike him as someone who can make people think whatever you want them to think. One day, he hopes to have as much power over a room as you do - and that’s for starters.

He slips into the bar stool beside you then, uninvited, and you scoff. “Are you even old enough to drink, baby face?”

He bristles at that, thick brows pinching and nods slowly, peeking at you from over the brim of his glasses, his own eyes now dancing with a subtle, dark amusement.

You’ve already turned away though. It frustrates him that he can’t entirely hold your attention.

“Nathan Bateman. Student, MIT.” You gesture to his name tag with a perfectly manicured finger, and without looking back up from your stack of documents.

Now, Nathan glumly reassesses his earlier conclusion. You are being forthcoming because it really doesn’t matter what he, specifically, thinks. Because you’ve already estimated that he’s the guy in the room with least influence. For now, at least. You’ll see. “Better to check. Especially before you start hitting on me.”

He swallows. “Is that what you think’s happening?” Shit. Do you want that to happen?

“Isn’t it?”

He’d make some dig about you flattering yourself. But he knows fine well it’s the most likely reason any hot-blooded guy would be sidling up to you. You’re hot and unobtainable; which makes you even hotter.

Nathan watches as you idly spin your wedding band around and around. He’s surprised you can even lift your arm with that rock attached. When he notices it, he wants to fuck you even more than he did before, but he definitely can’t afford you.

“Actually. I wanted to pick your brains on something. You seem the kinda person who knows a good idea when she sees one.” Unlike the other idiots at this conference who’ve refused to give him the time of day. Maybe he should reconsider his pitch.

You scoff, still not looking up at him. “Honey,” you deliver in a silken, condescending tone, which he is surprised to learn makes him half-hard in his pants. “I charge for that too, and I get the feeling I’m a little beyond your budget.”

“Call it corporate social responsibility then. Supporting the students.”

“Sweetheart. I pay someone else to do that sort of thing for me.”

“Okay.” He takes it in his stride. Wants to show he isn’t fazed by you, even if he is. “Then I guess I am hitting on you. Unless that’s gonna cost me.”

You finally turn back towards him. Look him up and down again as if to remind yourself exactly what you’re dealing with. You study his cheap suit and his mop of curls and his freshly grown-out beard, and he is surprised how exhilarating he finds it to be under your scope.

Your lips curl with subtle amusement, your gaze growing downright wolfish as you survey him.

Fucking unreal.

You look like could eat him up and spit him out. Or… you could swallow, he fantasises briefly, gaze dipping down to your plush mouth.

You do like what you’re seeing, don’t you? Are intrigued by him. Finally. He encounters someone with some good sense.

“What’s it like?” he delivers with a smirk, feeling a resurgence of his familiar confidence as he successfully holds your attention.

You eyeball his fit again. “What? Tailoring?”

He bristles at your dig, but again, aims to present an unbothered exterior. “No. I mean.” His palm waves through the air. “Being a sugar baby.”

You tut at him. “Why, are you interested in a position?”

He arcs a single, thick brow. “I could be.”

“I don’t think my husband’s recruiting. Unless you want a 60-hour a week unpaid internship with zero healthcare and no dental.”

“No. I mean that…” His tie feels awfully constrictive around his neck all of a sudden. This is a bold move but… you have to speculate to accumulate, right? “…I could be yours.”

You clearly weren’t expecting that. And, as much as you try to pass-off that you’re used to jumped-up, cocky little shits like him offering to be your sugar baby, he can plainly see it throws you for a moment. Still, you compose yourself beautifully in no time at all. “I already have one man who saps my time and comes in two minutes flat. What would make you any different, honey?”

Nathan offers you a lopsided smile, opting not to contain the dark, lust-blown gaze smouldering behind his lenses. What does he have to offer, exactly, in this scenario? He purses his lips while he thinks, and then he lands on it: “I’m… hot.”

You look him up and down again, conceding - with a tilt of your head - that his argument is at least halfway compelling. “Hmm. Do you imagine, though, that I struggle for offers from hot, younger men?”

“Not in the slightest. You’re gorgeous.” And rich. “But I think you can do better.”

“Better like you? What makes you so special?” You’re having fun with this. He can tell from the glow in your eyes and the curve of your appealing mouth.

He offers you his best smoulder. It isn’t hard - there’s an easy chemistry between the two of you, he thinks. “There are things I don’t give away for free either.”

“Well,” you ask, leaning in close to him and cupping his chin firmly in your hand as you dip your painted lips towards the shell of his ear. “If I was to take you up on your very generous offer… What pretty things would you want me to buy you with the money, baby boy?”

Fuck. You smell good.

You smell edible, and his suit pants definitely fit far less well than they did when he donned them this morning. In fact, they’re getting increasingly tight around his crotch as his arousal swells for you.

With a tight swallow dipping down his neck and a rare nervous sweat dampening his shirt, he twists to gather some documents out of his backpack. You scrape your nails down his beard as he turns out of reach, and fuck, you’re doing it for him.

Then, gathering his cool, entering the domain he is expert in and is sure of, he flips to the page on costings in his business plan, sliding it across the bar to you.

He gives you a moment to study the text. The list of the equipment, personnel, marketing budgets and so on he needs to realise his rather extensive ambitions. Then, he leans in to you in return as you pore over his plan. He dips his mouth until his beard is tickling the shell of your ear.

“This would be a good start… Mommy.”

As you look back at him with a dark, lust-laden stare, looking as hungry as he feels, he wonders if he might leave this conference with some start-up funds after all.

If this comes off, then… fuck. He hopes you are as ferocious in the bedroom as it strikes him you are in other areas.

Your head is angled towards him, your lips parted in mild surprise. Your gaze briefly dips to the tenting arousal between his legs, and he doesn’t even attempt to hide it.

He has no idea where this will lead; but that’s the fun, isn’t it? Nathan is rather fond of experiments.

A hard swallow dips down your neck and you cross your legs, pressing your thighs together as you take in the substantial swell of him.

You gather a smile, and your composure. “Your business plan looks impressive, Nathan.” His name sounds good in your mouth. He wonders how his cock might feel in there too.

You hand the documents back to him, and you quickly gather up your things, slinging your stack of documents under one arm. With the other, you reach out your hand, offering it to him to shake. He obliges. “I’m certain we could come to some sort of… arrangement.” You free a business card from the holder in your tote and slip it gracefully into his top pocket.

He’s a little disappointed it isn’t your hotel room key, if he’s honest. He’d love to work on his current… problem… right away. “When would you like to… discuss things further?” he asks, as you dangle the promise in front of him.

“You’ll have to make an appointment with my PA,” you dismiss with a smirk. However, you seem keen to guarantee that he does. You’ll be fun to play with, Nathan thinks. “Will you do that for me, Nathan?”

He thinks about it. Decides it’s a no-brainer. “Yes.”

To his surprise, you then reach your hand down towards his crotch, pausing before you touch him and allowing him opportunity to protest. He doesn’t. And so, you settle your palm over the aching bulge between his legs. The warmth of you bleeds through the fabric, and Nathan struggles not to react to the pressure you apply, managing to limit himself to a ragged intake of breath. His eyes flutter shut, lashes fanning against his cheek. When he opens them again, he half expects his glasses to have steamed up.

“Yes, what?” you purr, giving him an abrupt squeeze.

“Y-yes, Mommy,” he stutters, almost choking on his words, and with that, you look very satisfied indeed.

He wagers, from the expression on your face, that you’ll definitely be motivated to seal the deal.

You sweep out and Nathan watches your ass sway in that tight pencil skirt as you go.

Fucking unreal.

[dovahhmonn]

Mouse nsfw Headcanons 🐁💕

+ art

🔞 MDNI

Mouse can dish it out but gets flustered just as easily when the attention is turned on her. A well-placed whisper or teasing touch leaves her fumbling for words.

When she's thinking about something dirty, her nervous energy spikes. Tugging at sleeves, shifting weight, biting her lip—it’s obvious when her mind is wandering somewhere it shouldn’t.

Whether she admits it or not, Mouse craves casual affection just as much as anything more heated. A lingering hand on her back or fingers brushing hers can send shivers down her spine.

There's a lot Mouse probably wants to do, but either doesn’t have the confidence to initiate or convinces herself it’s not the right time.

Sometimes, she doesn’t realize how much she affects others. The way she chews on a pen cap, stretches and exposes a sliver of skin, or leans in a little too close—it all adds up.

Mouse is extra sensitive. If someone knows how to play their cards right, just a few words or a light touch can leave her unraveling. Specifically anywhere on her collarbone or throat, even behind her ears is a spot that can make her melt.

She might try to keep things subtle, but her body language always betrays her. A sharp inhale, tensing shoulders, or a fleeting glance that lingers too long—it’s not hard to tell what’s on her mind. That woman has an awful pokerface.

Mouse is actually a virgin funny enough, If she does end up in a compromising situation, her brain is running a mile a minute. What do I do with my hands? Am I breathing too loud? Should I say something? Overanalyzing the moment instead of just enjoying it.

Compliments and praise go straight to her head, whether she realizes it or not. A soft "That's it," or "good girl," in the right tone? Dangerous.

Maybe she pretends to be indifferent or even cynical, but deep down, she melts for soft, intimate gestures. Whispered words, a protective touch, or someone remembering small details about her? That’s what really gets to her.

Mouse is a huge thigh rider, she could sit on Easterman's thigh for hours as he works on reports just dry humping his leg with her face buried in his neck.

As much as she would do anything and everything to please Dr. Easterman she prefers the times where they just make out and grind against eachother, she tries her best to ignore his wedding ring.

The most she's done with anyone (and most of it was honestly with Easterman because I...I'm weak) is suck dick, and he usually seems satisfied enough with just watching her come undone on his fingers anyways, half the time he doesn't even undress her just shoves his hand down her pants.

Fucking HATES that she cant bite him hard enough to leave marks, she wants to leave impressions of her teeth all over that man but he forbids leaving marks...doesn't mean he can't mark her up though.

OKAY IM SHUTTING UP NOW THANK YOU FOR BEING INTERESTED IN MY LITTLE RAT

[novankenn]

The Enigma

(A snippet from A Mafia & From Assassin to Sales Clerk AUs.)

Blake Belladonna once a feared close quarters specialized assassin, turned over-worked, underpaid sales clerk for Pumpkin Pete's Novelty Store... was intrigued. Deandra Thistle her co-worker slash supervisor just gave her a feeling that made her... wary.

Now it was nothing outwardly. Denadra who insisted everyone call her Deery treated Blake well. She was an attentive person, and had on more than one occasion less that subtly informed Blake that as long as she was staff, she would have her back.

From all outward appearances Deery was a cheerful, hard worker, who took pride in her job. It was only when you looked her dead in the eyes that things... felt off. For someone who presented themselves as so approachable, those eyes underscored that Deery was someone you didn't want to mess with. they were cold, lifeless and empty. The only place or time Blake had ever seen eyes like that was during "Shark Week".

So Deery had become a topic of interest and conversation with Pyrrha a former rival for contracts... now friend? Acquaintance? Anyway in their on going chat, the subject of Deery always came up.

(BB signed in) (PN signed in)

BB: So we had a customer come in to the store today... PN: You work retail... that is not a strange occurrence, but then considering where you work... BB: Do not bad mouth the store, or I'll let Jaune know there is a new set of hoodies and another series of Sche-Pops being released. PN: DON'T YOU DARE! BB: Don't think I will have to anyway. Seeing as he ALWAYS seems to know what's happening with Pumpkin Peter merch. PN: I can't believe the amount of lien he wastes there! BB: Don't see you complaining much about the hoodie. You look cute BTW wearing it everywhere when you're with Jaune. PN: NEW topic! BB: Okay. Anyway this customer came in, and normally it doesn't matter who serves, but this guy was adamant to only speak to Deery about a "lay away"... which was strange because we don't offer that service... as far as I know. PN: That is strange... what happened? BB: Well Deery shooed me away, to the back room, and started talking real quiet to this guy. PN: That it? BB: Well I missed most of it, because I had to go get some stock from the back, but when I returned I saw him hand her a thankyou card sized red envelope. PN: Red envelope? That's old school. BB: You really think Deery is... in the business? PN: She's scary enough to be. BB: The eyes? PN: The eyes. BB: Well that was it, and when I tried to ask about "lay away" she just brushed me off. Went to the staff room and then came back. PN: Maybe we're reading too much into it? I mean what are the chances? BB: You're right. SO ready for the "date"? Get any good advice from Saphron? PN: Sort of. She said to just myself. Take it slow, and dress casual. She likes seeing me in the hoodie too. BB: LOL PN: Don't laugh or I'll talk Jaune into getting you and Yang matching ones. MEH! BB: Oh yeah?

(Image sent)

PN: DELETE THAT PIC RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BB: NO. You look too cute with jaune's boxers on your head! Might be a sign for things to come? PN: DO NOT MAKE ME KICK YOU ASS! BB: LOL. PN: I MEAN IT! BB: Won't matter if I did. Yang has the original. PN: FUCK!!! This is SO embarrassing!!!!!!! BB: Don't worry Pyrrha. Only us four know about it. We're your friends, we won't do you dirty like that, sharing it public. PN: Are we really... friends? BB: I would like to be... but maybe we can work up to it? besides what friends HAVEN'T tried to kill each other? PN: I have no idea. This whole... relationship, and friends thing is really confusing. Like am I REALLY with Jaune? Does he like me, like I think I like him? BB: Only one way to know for sure... ask him.

(PN signed out.) BB: Rude.

(BB signed out)

Blake signed as she put her scroll away and tried to focus on her job. It was a really slow day, but closing time was only about forty-five minutes away, so that was a good thing. The time dragged on, and soon cash-out and end-of-day had been completed.

"You good to lock up Blake?" Deery asked as she came out of the back carrying a large black duffle bag. "I have an appointment to get to."

"Sure." Blake answered, while eyeing the bag. "See you tomorrow?"

"Bright and early." Deery replied as she grabbed her bag and walked out the door.

"Nah." Blake commented to herself. "Not a chance."

[9800sblog]

Mingi ideal type thank you!

mingi tarot reading

ideal type - personality and appearance

do I have his energy permission to do and share this reading? 6 of cups, ace of cups

this is the longest one I've ever made but bare with me, mingi is my favorite person i pay attention to him the most, so I have more information memorized.

personality

the world reversed - mingi wants someone he can take care of, someone that has one or many issues in their daily life that he can help with. shy, messy, anxious, insecure, angry, he loves those things because he wanna be the one to "save" them, help them get on their feet with strength. he doesn't want someone that is too worldly, he wants someone that wouldn't mind staying inside a lot, someone that doesn't have as hectic of a schedule as he does, someone more anti social, that don't have many friends (he literally said that he preferred quiet, anti social, nerdy girls when he was in school, he doesn't want someone with a big personality).

4 of pentacles reversed - he's said he likes jealousy and here it is, he wants someone who is extra possessive of him. he also wants someone who is curious and open to his input in their life, who isn't so defensive and stuck in their way. he's also expressed his preference for being a provider, so his ideal type is maybe someone who earns less than him and probably a stay at home partner/parent. someone he doesn't need to touch or be around physically to feel their presence. someone that knows the appropriate times to be selfish or selfless, but specially altruistic when it comes to him. someone like him, who has many different interests but when they pick something, that's it for life.

7 of wands - loyal as fuck (like the anime your name, that level of loyalty), he's probably the type to tell you you can't have any guy friends or wear a certain outfit and he wants someone who will comply easily. someone who is desired and that he needs to be possessive over, but that will literally fight every person that likes them. someone that protects him over any and everything, that takes care of him no matter what. someone incredibly confident that can stand their ground, persevering, courageous, strong and capable.

8 of wands reversed - mingi is a very shy person when he's around someone he really likes (check him meeting jongkook vs any other celebrity, for example), he wants someone that won't give up on him even if he's too slow, too nervous, giving confusing/conflicting messages, someone who will understand and stick with him even if no one else does. shyness is a trait that's present in all of these cards, this time mystery is also coming through, someone he needs to win over with time, that only he understands, someone who makes him feel proud of himself when they open up and tell him stuff (if he has someone in mind, it might be someone who speaks a different language). again, he may not be interested in those who are too energetic and do a lot in their day, someone more introverted is more comfortable and fun for him. as an entp, his ideal type is definitely introverts. 8 of wands also signify anger, irritation, mingi is someone with very strong opinions, he may want someone who can share his frustrations and hatred over specific things, or at least who won't judge him.

appearance

my sister was listening to enchanted by taylor swift in the other room when I got to this part, mingi just wants love at first sight, someone enchanting, dreamy, magical, who will leave him starstruck and shocked, as if it's meant to be.

6 of cups - he loves height difference, he may think it's cute if they look innocent and younger. very delicate and feminine. tanned/golden skin. very natural, he prefers simple, comfortable styles, soft makeup or none, and no cosmetic procedures, like someone that doesn't live in the city, down to earth. very much like rory gilmore.

the star reversed - very much a casual style, very natural, probably someone that doesn't fit the beauty standard. someone that knows how it feels to be considered unattractive, someone that's had a glowup, someone with hidden beauty (can go from messy to superstar). mingi has expressed his concerns many times, it's not surprising if he wants he wouldn't feel pressured to look like a star for, someone who wouldn't make him feel like he needs to change to be beautiful. not flashy, more conservative (mingi has called out atinys wearing showy outfits in fanmeetings before), someone that covers up and doesn't wear many accessories (just check out his outfits when he isn't filming)

page of cups reversed - he honestly does not care, he's a hopeless romantic, he loves to have rose colored glasses, as long as it's his person, he would find them beautiful and sexy no matter WHAT. he is very innocent in this matter. however, he may like legs and a flowy hair, soft and girly aesthetic (spring, flowers and water is a consistent theme in these cards). he prefers someone who has a more serious look, he's said he liked the serious and quiet kid in the back of the room. a toned down, less creative, just a very casual and comfortable style (he dresses a lot in street style and even more in the original grunge, so he's probably attracted to that too).

☆

since mingi is obsessed with anime, I thought I'd show some characters that match because it's honestly very similar and he loves to base his aesthetic on things he's seen on tv

in his head, this is him and his person

taiga & ryuuji - toradora!

komi & tadano - komi can't communicate

ponyo & sosuke - ponyo

rory and jess - gilmore girls

I could not leave this show behind

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Hi, love! Hope you’re well!💜

A few things. One: I appreciate you so fucking much! You’re so goddamn talented. I’m basically obsessed with your work. Two: this is my final request for Omi smut because I literally just had this thought pop up in my head that can only be brought to life by you.

You just get it!🥰

Reader and Omi are either out at a club together, or out to dinner with friends, reader is feeling a little frisky, teases/plays with him under the table, ends up eating his cum. OR this could work the other way around.

Either way, I know this is going to be immaculate as always.😘

OMG THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE; I LOVE YOU TOO. AND I LOVE THIS ASK!

Poker Face: Takeomi Akashi x Fem!Reader

wc: 433

tw: smut

masterlist

Takeomi is struggling.

"Hey, Omi," Waka calls out, smiling. "You're shit at playing poker."

He grunts - out of disregard or pleasure, he's not sure - and your hand tightens around his cock. He's trying to keep his cool, but as you work your hands around his cock, he's finding it hard to maintain his composure.

You'd disappeared ages ago, according to the guys. They'd watched you leave. But when Takeomi felt a pair of hands at his belt minutes later, he knew you crawled under the poker table - unseen, somehow - and were working him up for something a little more... rousing.

"Bet," Keizo urges him, puffing on his cigar before pulling it away from his face. Takeomi isn't sure if he should call, raise, or fold, but he jolts when your lips trace a path up his dick.

"Uh..." Takeomi resists the urge to moan. "Fold."

The game continues, and beads of sweat roll down the sides of Takeomi's face as he tries to keep himself in check. Your mouth has almost swallowed him whole, and if it weren't for the loud music and distracting images of women parading about in the den, he might be found out. But you appear to be a master of remaining undetected, and Takeomi's toes are curling so hard that he can't even see his cards properly.

Voices turn into a blur of noise as he tries to avoid anyone finding out his secret, but when his tip hits the back of your throat, he coughs to mask his whimper of pleasure.

"Fuck," he rasps, and Keizo chuckles.

"Stop smoking, and those coughs won't be so bad."

"Are you alright?" Waka wonders, frowning at Takeomi.

"Just fine," he wheezes. "Doing great."

"Are you going to go or...?"

"Oh," he hums. "Uh... fold again." When he folds, your mouth makes it nearly impossible for Takeomi to sit still. He moves his feet to ease the overwhelming sensation - he's about to cum - and he hides his face from Waka and Keizo as he feels his orgasm crest.

Another fake cough covers his urge to groan and whimper and whine. And all the while, he feels your throat constrict, then loosen, constrict, then loosen... You're swallowing every last drop.

That alone wipes Takeomi out.

You tuck his dick back into his pants, buckle his belt, then your hands disappear... and you're gone.

"I'm out," Takeomi sniffs, grabbing his chips and standing. "Need to lay down."

"Might want to zip your fly up," Keizo mentions casually as Takeomi walks away, ears flushed with embarrassment.

[rielzero]

Auvandeor

So, I made that one oc I was working on a while ago in bg3.. Wizard cambion who has an archdevil daddy. Like, The archdevil.

Auvan is Asmodeus' son and prince of hell because why the fuck not lol. In an alternative universe, where he's tadpoled somehow, things go a little different. Because this guy never leaves his father's castle otherwise.

He's heavily protected cuz uh, endless wars and Asmodeus is all powerful and he might not be.

So, in the circumstance, Zariels soldiers manage to kidnap him, he ends up on the nautiloid and gets tadpoled.

Baby boi is pissed. However, unlike most of our companions, he's too noble to give a fuck about keeping secrets like the haughty person he is.

He can hide his horns and wings, so he doesn't show those off until Lae'zel decides they're gonna fight imps together.

To which in response, he flies to a save distance before casting spells.

I do think the gith would be naturally wary of cambions, but they're not strict enemies. The only reason cambions are on the nautiloid is because it teleported into Avernus, but Auvan makes it clear he is not a fan of Zariel's men.

Hnhnhg

Some interesting things about his interactions.

-has a "You didn't ask so I didn't tell you" Attitude about most things.

-immediately outs Astarion as a vampire on their first meeting and academicly deducts that he's either a dhampir or the tadpole is giving him sunlight immunity. Insists he joins him because he wants revenge on whoevers behind the mindflayers.

-When Gale tries to one up him with the arch mage stuff he flaunts his status as the prince of hell and says he could obliterate him with a thought.

-He does not like Wyll because Wyll is heroic and unnerved by his presence since he's a cambion.

-Same for Karlach, I think she'd try to fight him on sight, they're reluctant allies.

-Neutral on Lae'zel and Shadowheart but finds their squabbles mildly entertaining and irritating. Insists they fight it out in a longwinded rant about birth right which makes both women decide it's not worth the blood.

-Auvandeor doesn't like Gale at first because he smells like divine entanglement, but is interested as soon as he hears of the orb.

-He doesn't really play by their standards of normalcy and walks around naked in camp often. (Normally this would annoy people but Auvan is nice to look at.)

-He's gay but not bothered by women seeing him naked as long as they don't see nudity as an invitation, he's just comfortable being nude casually.

-Very casual about sex, suggests a threesome to Gale and Astarion at some point, says he'll blow their minds quite literally if they're feeling up to it.

-Wizard, of course he's a bit high on himself.

-if asked why he doesn't use the daddy card, he pretty much states that he's not going to bring shame on papa's name and he can solve his own problems.

-Hates Raphael, they know each other. (They have also hatefucked in the past) Raphael is very amused by his predicament, but Auvan states if he could remove the tadpoles, he would've done it himself. Therefore there's no way Raphael can do it.

- Superiority complex. He's annoying about it sometimes.

-Clearly hasn't gotten out much. Very unfamiliar with faerun outside of books.

-Gale would be entertained by teaching him basic things like cooking.. Auvan is spoiled.

-Does not Like Mizora, does not care about Mizora. When she appears she seems to know him, but he doesn't know her. It becomes a ''who dis?'' Kind of back and forth.

-Of course, very good at demon stuff, so he could help Wyll with his contract problems easily.

-Lets Shadowheart kill Aylin purely because she is an Aasimar and he gets a yikes ew feeling when they meet her.

-Doesn't sign a deal with Raphael, just tricks him into giving him the Hammer with an IOU kinda deal. Y'know, cuz this wizard has connections.. Called nepotism.

-No Gale god, suggests Gale use the orb to become a devil instead cuz it's kind of the same just better with more freedom, Asmodeus would probably enjoy a new archdevil entering the field. Gale decides maybe godhood isn't for him.

-I don't think he romances anyone, just becomes friends with benefits with Astarion/Gale. Auvan is on the demiromantic spectrum of sorts.

-Only does ''good'' things when the party convinces him to after lots of complaining.

-To his dismay, turns into a Human or Tiefling form whenever they have to interact with crowds of people. He gets twink sized. When asked why, his cambion form is basically ''short and petite'' to the average cambion and devil.

-Helps Wyll / Karlach out when they're going back into hell because at this point he respects them. I wouldn't call them close friends, but they can get along.

Yeah. Let's be happy he's not my canon Tav. He'd be so chaotic.

If you have any questions for him, let me know.