#IDK MAN. A LOT OF STUFF IS UP IN THE AIR I JUST WANTED TO PUT KANAKO IN HIGURASHI OK

[goomyloid]

got uty au pilled again, sorry... more info under the cut

an AU where ceroba, in the end, refuses to inject kanako with the serum. even after all her research, she just can't trust that it's totally safe. while kanako accepts this, she still wishes she could eventually be of use somehow, and indirectly blames herself for her father's death.

despite all this, with kanako alive, ceroba is able to grieve chujin in a far less desperate way, still having her daughter by her side. as the years go by, ceroba devotes more and more of her time to finishing chujin's research in hopes of finally making a serum that can save the underground. kanako is determined to help, too -- together, they clean up chujin's lab and make it a far nicer place to work, because they're in this together now. well, in theory.

ceroba still certainly takes care of kanako and does her best to be a good mother, but as time passes, ceroba spends more and more time in the lab trying to find an answer. kanako, being the social butterfly that she is, can't bring herself to always stay shut inside like her mother; she travels daily to Oasis Valley, making friends and becoming the town darling. as ceroba spends more time working, kanako spends more and more time taking care of the estate, trying to spend time outside whenever possible.

but it gets kind of lonely. the ketsukane estate is off outside of Oasis Valley, and not many people come by. she's worried about her mother, who's been shutting her out as she becomes more desperate to find a solution. there's only so much to do at the house.

then, clover falls into the underground and explores the dunes. there are barely any other kids at this spot in the underground -- finally, someone around her age! she's immediately entranced by them and determined to become their friend, even after finding out they're a human -- that just makes them cooler...!

but there's a problem; kanako has seen her father's tapes, she knows that a human soul would be extremely valuable to producing the serum. of course, she wants to help save the underground, and she wants her mother to finally be rid of stress and be able to spend time with her again... but after spending time with clover, kanako knows there's no way she can let clover die. they're like the sibling she never had...

and kanako can't even let her mother know that clover exists, either; she knows exactly what will happen if ceroba finds out there's a human here. and yet, a secret part of her wishes and hopes that maybe, just maybe, ceroba could find value in clover as a person and then they could all live in the ketsukane estate together. it would be a dream come true! maybe there's even some way clover can help ceroba without having to give up their soul...?

but things aren't destined to work out that way. any number of things could happen.

clover could peacefully move on in their quest through the underground, leaving a sad and lonely kanako behind.

or, ceroba finds out about clover in one way or another, and things are not looking good. but would she choose to take clover's life at the cost of her daughter's one and only friend?

what if clover didn't come in peace, but in vengeance?

or maybe ceroba somehow accepts clover, growing to respect them after all is said and done, and she tries to experiment on a living human soul?

or maybe, wracked with grief and loneliness, kanako discards her mother's warnings and takes the new, updated serum herself, determined to become the hero for her family like she always wanted...?

or, something else could happen.

what if, after an unhappy ending, kanako wakes up on that same day again, waiting for clover to come by the ketsukane estate for the first time? she doesn't even know how it's possible, reliving the same few weeks over and over. she just wants to find her happy ending, and she'll search and search for as long as she needs to.

how long can she watch the same endings play out over and over?

[thetriumphantpanda]

take me to florida | joel miller

summary | turning up on his doorstep covered in blood was not was Joel had expected of you, and when you open your mouth, he expects it even less. There's a shitstorm in Texas you both have to escape from, but how long can it last?

pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

word count | 4,496

warnings | it's a lot. Descriptions of murder (stabbing), blood, violence, domestic violence and the death penalty (yeah idk either don't ask), basically reader does a bad thing to someone who did bad things to her. One singular slap (reader to Joel). Mentions of adultery and cheating. Explicit smut - grinding/dry-humping, fingering, rough sex, biting, squirting. No use of y/n. No outbreak AU.

authors note | *taps mic* is this thing on? Hi! It's been a whilst hasn't it?! I've been doing life, enjoying being offline and in love and all of that stuff, but the new series has my brain WHIRLING and I wanted to share this with you all. I wrote most of this back in the autumn last year and was inspired to finish it, so here you go. Let me know if I've still got it! As always if you enjoy this, please like, reblog, comment or scream in my ask box. I've missed you.

Divider by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

It’s viscous, dripping down the back of your hand, seeping through the webbing of your fingers. Crimson staining the floor as it drips from the tip of the knife, pooling around the body, slumped against the wall now. Your limbs are heavy, vice grip on the handle easing, arm dropping to your side as the knife clatters to the floor. Your chest is heaving, sucking in air, you steady yourself by putting your palms against your knees, bending over, trying not to throw up. There’s a pool of blood forming against the toe of your shoe, deep red staining white canvas. No-one ever mentions how messy it is, but then again, not many people stick a knife into their husband’s ten times. There are splatters across the wall, you can feel some of the warmth seeping down your forehead, you can taste it on your mouth when you lick your lips to wet them.

You let out an animalistic groan as you straighten up, the fucker deserved it, you think, picking the knife up from the ground, wiping both sides of the blade against the white of your tank top. Pushed you and pushed you until you broke. Put his hands on you one too many times with no remorse, no punishment. Called you a useless whore for the last time. There was some sick sense of satisfaction the bloomed when your mind replays the the look of shock on his face when you’d stabbed him the first time, like he couldn’t believe you had the guts. By the fifth time, there wasn’t anything behind those eyes of his, but you added five more just to be sure.

There’s a rage simmering underneath your skin still. Rage at the fact that no matter how many police reports you’d filed, how many hospital trips for split lips and black eyes, the law were going to come for you, and you’d go down, no doubt about it. That distinct feminine rage that a man could push you to the limit and back, and it’s still going to be your fucking fault when you stand in front of a jury and plead your case. The mad woman, the violent woman, the unhinged woman. It makes you want to scream, makes you want to thrash, maybe it makes you want to stick the knife into your own middle and twist it deep. You don’t though. You take the knife, run it under the tap until the water down the drain runs clear, wipe it dry with the towel and then shove it into your bag.

The mad woman indeed, you think, unhooking your car keys from the hook by the door. Well, if they wanted to fucking fry you, they were going to have to catch you first.

The darkness makes this easier. The hood pulled up over your head, covering your face just enough that the few passing cars don’t notice a thing on the drive there. There’s only one place you think to go, one person you know will understand, probably getting ready to go to bed on the other side of town, none-the-wiser that you’re on your way to him, covered in blood with a murder weapon sitting on the front seat of your car.

His home is unassuming. Two levels, two bedrooms, one for him - brown wood and dark - the other for his dead daughter - still pink with the sheets messed up, not made or changed for years as some sort of fucked up shrine. His truck, parked on the driveway, right next to yours. Most of the houses on the road have their lights turned out, families tucked up and sleeping for the night, but the light in his lounge is on - hard day at work, you think - as your fist knocks against the wood.

It takes him a minute, but then again, it always does, with his aching knees and his sore back, but he opens the door anyway, looking at you with confusion for a second, like he’s forgotten you’d arranged something, until you look up at him, let the light hit your face and show the blood spatters, drying and flaking, then his eyes are concerned, his big hand on your shoulder, dragging you inside.

“What did he do?” He’s asking, voice gruff.

He does this a lot, when you turn up in the middle of the night, bruises on your arms or lip split and sore, threatens to kill him, threatens to kill the cops who won’t do anything. Soothes your wounds, puts plasters on you, and then fucks you into his mattress and promises to run away with you. Well, jokes on you Joel Miller, you think as he leans you against the kitchen counter to look at you, I already fucking did kill him, and now you’re going to have to run away with me.

“What did he do to you, baby?” Voice still gruff, but tinged with concern this time, his hands cupping your face, turning it into the light to try and find the injury.

You cup his face too, congealed blood in the palm of your hand smearing across his skin, catching in the coarse whiskers of his beard, “He didn’t do anythin’ Joel.” You whisper, watching as the realisation hits his face and he takes a step back from you, dropping his hands like you’ve burned him.

“What did you do?”

You smile at him, the way he looks a little scared, “I killed him, Joel.”

He sucks in a breath, takes another step away from you, pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, “Why the fuck would you do that?”

You scoff, “Why the fuck do you think?” You snarl, “Had his hands around my neck,” You say, moving your head to show the red marks where his fingers had squeezed, “Told me I was a stupid whore and just squeezed harder.”

Joel’s eyes soften as he takes a step back towards you, “So I stabbed him,” It’s so matter of fact, “It was that or it was me Joel, do you understand?”

“Well then we go to the police,” He says, trying to reason with you, “One stab wound in self-defence and they’ll understand.”

“Ten.”

“What?”

“I said ten, ten stab wounds.”

He’s silent now. Those brown orbs staring directly into your soul. You can see the snarl of his top lip, the faint twitch in his left eye, “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”

And then it’s a whirlwind. You’re stood in his bathroom and he’s taking off your clothes, forcing you into the shower and scrubbing your skin raw like he doesn’t trust you to be thorough enough in doing it yourself. He shoves your blood-stained clothes into a bag, along with his own, worried that there’s enough blood on that shirt that they’ll come after him too. He dries at your skin, gives you the single set of clothes you keep at his house to change into, dressing himself frantically. Then he’s shoving more of his clothes into a duffle bag, avoiding your eye as he swipes the picture frame off his chest of drawers - the one of him and Sarah, soccer trophy in her hand - and shoves that in the bag too.

When he’s satisfied he has everything he needs, his palm grips the scruff of your neck and guides you down the stairs, like he’s scared you’re going to bolt, only letting go to put his boots on and pick up his keys. He makes sure to turn all the lights off, even the one on the porch, letting you go again to lock his door, then his hand is back on you, guiding you roughly to his truck, where he opens the door and waits for you to get in.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“Just get in the fuckin’ truck baby.”

You’re two hours into the drive before he speaks, clearly trying to focus on getting as far away from the scene of your crime as he can. He’s silently fuming, having had to go back and put you back in your own car, have you drive behind him until he pulled onto the side of some deserted country road. He sat you back in the passenger seat of his truck, took the bag of bloodied clothes and put them in the boot of your car. You watched in the rear-view mirror as he doused it in petrol from a can and then set fire to it.

Neither of you looked back as you drove off.

“Are you okay?”

It makes you laugh, a full body-shaking laugh, the kind of laugh where you have to bite your lip to stop yourself. His hand is back on your shoulder, rough and tight, as it shakes you, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck do you think is wrong with me?” You spit, “I just killed my fuckin’ husband Joel, don’t ask stupid fuckin’ questions.”

He’s sailing down the highway, hand still gripping at your skin, “Do you have any idea what we’ve just done?” He asks, eyes forward, not looking at you, “You have any idea what they’ll do when they catch us?”

“Yeah, I got some notion.” You sigh, sinking back into the seat.

“What did you do with the body?”

You shrug, “I just left it there.”

“How long do you think we got?” He’s finally letting go of you, both hands back on the wheel.

“Couple of days,” You hum, “He ain’t due at work until Monday,” It was Friday now, “No-one’s gonna look for him until he doesn’t show.”

Joel nods, finally relaxing into his seat as much as he can, but he’s tense, you both are, and you’ve got to be careful. One wrong move and this is all going to unravel.

It’s silent then for another couple of miles until he speaks again, “I’m sorry,” He says quietly, “I’m sorry he did that to you and I’m sorry that you had to do that.”

“I’m not.”

It comes out at easy and breathing. Your asshole of a husband deserved it. Years of beating you around, of belittling you in front of your friends and family, all those nights of being curled up, forced to unravel and undress and lie there in the dark whilst he used you. You’re not sorry you had to do it at all.

You’re in a motel in Alabama when the news hits. It’s a shitty place, middle of nowhere vibes, with a receptionist who couldn’t have given less of a shit about the two of you when you arrived. Handed the keys to a room to Joel once she’d insisted on him paying cash for the three nights he wanted. Joel’s not long come back from the store down the road - a large bag of chips, two cans of soda and some candy shoved into a plastic bag, enough to stave off the hunger for the evening.

You’ve actively avoided the news until now, settling instead on trash tv for background noise, but it’s Monday, and you know that as soon as your shitty dead husband didn’t turn up for work, it would be a shitstorm back in Texas. There’s a woman, sitting behind a desk, looking incredibly morose over a dead man she doesn’t know. You listen intently to what she’s saying as Joel cracks open your can of soda and hands it to you.

It’s the basics right now, he’s been dead a few days, a brutal murder and the police are following all open lines of enquiry. They don’t mention you, they don’t mention Joel and there’s no appeal for witnesses. You sigh out some kind of breath of relief that you’re okay for now, but you know in the back of your mind you have to get moving. It’ll only be a matter of time before your photograph is pasted across the news channel, Joel’s too - you have to move on.

“Where are we going to go?” You ask quietly, sipping the sugary cold syrup from the can.

“Where do you want to go?” He replies just as quietly.

“Mexico?” You offer, it’s the only place you know that criminals go, crossing the border and down into South America to disappear into obscurity.

“Gone in the wrong direction for Mexico, baby,” He shrugs, “Maybe we head into Florida, lay low as much as we can, and then move on from there if the heat follows us?”

“Sounds good.”

There’s something about Florida that feels freeing. Sure, you’re in a dead end town, nowhere near a beach where you could enjoy the sun, but there’s something about the air here that feels different. Joel manages to find a small apartment for the two of you. Conscious that he doesn’t want anyone to know your faces when they start getting plastered across the news channels, he phones a number from a newspaper, asks for the keys to be dropped somewhere outside and three days ago you’d let yourselves in and settled down.

Joel had gone out and bought new clothes for the two of you, the old ones thrown in the bin, not sure any amount of laundry would have taken the smell away. He stocks up on simple groceries, and for the third night in a row, you sit down to spaghetti with tomato sauce from a jar. You’ve got the news on again, low on the volume, but just enough that you catch the news anchor speaking, “We have a development in the Austin murder case to bring you tonight.”

The spaghetti in your mouth turns to lead and what’s already in your stomach threatens to reappear when Joel turns around to find his face plastered across the TV screen.

“Austin local Joel Miller has been reported missing today by his brother,” The anchor continues, “And police have been open in explaining that they believe his disappearance is connected with the murder of an Austin man, found days ago in his home, stabbed to death.”

The camera cuts to a shot of Joel’s house, covered in police tape with an office stood outside his closed front door, and then to add insult to injury, the familiar face of Tommy Miller comes into view. He’d known about you, met you plenty of times, you think he liked you even, pulling cold beers out of the fridge for you and asking you how your day had been.

“I just wanna know where my brother is,” His Texan twang rings out, but you’re not watching him, you’re watching Joel, and the tick of his jaw as he grinds his teeth, “I don’t know where he is, but Joel, if you’re listenin’, come home brother, whatever has happened, just come home.”

Joel’s fist clenches the TV remote, turning it off, bathing the room in a dead silence that feels stifling. You don’t know what to do, except chew the spaghetti in your mouth for what feels like the hundredth time in an attempt to make you swallow it. He won’t look at you, instead he stares down into his bowl of unfinished food, jaw still twitching in the way it always does when he’s angry or stressed.

“Joel…” You trail off when he brings a hand up to signal you to stop talking.

“Don’t say anythin’.”

“They just think you’re missing,” You offer, trying to lessen the blow.

He snorts, shakes his head and looks up at you finally, his dark brown eyes blown almost black.

“Missin’, huh?” He scoffs, “And when Tommy airs this whole affair we’ve been havin’, tells the police everythin’ he knows about us, what then?”

You scoff right back, getting up from the table, chair scraping across the floor as you do, “So what, you wanna run on back to fucking Texas and leave me here?”

“I didn’t say that,” He sighs, standing up too, “I’m just sayin’ it ain’t gonna be long until they realise what really happened, and then what?”

“We move on, just like you said.”

“We don’t have that kinda luck baby,” He’s started to pace, “They’re gonna find us eventually, and I don’t know how you’re gonna talk yourself outta ten stab wounds.”

“Oh fuck you, Joel,” You spit, sanity hanging by a thread, “Yeah I stabbed him, maybe I even fucking enjoyed it, but you’re just as guilty in this as I am, you’re harbouring a criminal right now, even if they don’t know it yet.”

“I’m as guilty as you?” He pries, stepping closer to you, making you step back against the kitchen counter, “I didn’t stab him baby,” His voice is dripping in sarcasm, “That was all you,” He drags out, taking another step towards you, “They might arrest me baby, but when they catch you, they’re gonna give you the damn chair.”

It all happens in such a blur, his taunting tone and the way he’s caged you in against the kitchen counters. Before you even know what you’ve done, your hand has flown up and slapped him right across the cheek, following by a spitting “How fucking dare you.”

You’re both breathing heavily, the sound of sucking breath the only thing you can hear in the room. His eyes are darker than ever as he takes one more step, tangles his fist in the hair on the back of your head and tugs hard, before his mouth is hot and open against yours, tongue sliding against yours. It’s the first time he’s touched you like this since you left Texas, hot and full of want as he presses his entire body to yours, your lower back digging into the edge of the counter. You groan into his mouth, let your arms wrap around the broad expanse of his shoulders, and melt into the hand his puts on your lower back.

There’s a fumbling of limbs when he finally lets go of the grip he’s had on your hair, palms against the globes of your ass as he pulls you up, legs wrapping around his waist. He’s kissing you as he walks to the couch - it’s old, pattern faded, and when you sit on it you feel the springs pressing into you from below, but none of that matters when you’re legs are splayed wide across his thighs, straddling him as his hands rip open the blouse he bought not two days ago. It’s torn from your body, cups of your bra pulled down, nipple sucked into his mouth, his tongue swirling it into a stiff peak before he’s switching to the other one.

Your hand is on the back of his neck, gripping tightly to the unruly curls there, body leaning back in pleasure as your start to subtly grind your hips down into his.

“I fucking hate you,” You breathe, knowing you don’t really, not deep down, just for right now, “This is all your fault.”

“All my fault?” He asks, voice gruff as his teeth nip at the delicate skin on your breath, “I didn’t force you to stab him.”

He sucks your nipple back into his mouth, this time adding his teeth, not enough to hurt, just enough to make your cunt throb.

“You shouldn’t have spoken to me that night,” You moan out when he lets your nipple go with a pop, moving to the other one, “If I didn’t know you existed this never would’a happened.”

You hear him chuckle a little against your skin, as if it’s not a bare-faced lie. Whether he’d have been here or not, you’re sure that knife would have found it’s way into your husband one way or another. Joel just adds a complication, another person who doesn’t need to be caught up in this.

He doesn’t reply, all he does is grip harder to your ass through your jeans and drag you across the growing bulge in his own. You can feel him pushing up into you, the friction of the clothes between you making you sigh as you continue grinding yourself across his jean-covered cock.

It goes on like this for a while, kissing and biting at each other, until Joel has enough. His hands move from gripping painfully to your ass to effortlessly unbuttoning and unzipping your own jeans. You lift up just enough for him to pull them down over your ass, taking your underwear with them. There’s awkward fumbling whilst you try and manoeuvre them off your body whilst staying as close to him as possible, but eventually you get there.

Before you can settle back to rubbing your wet pussy along the bulge of his trousers, his hand cups you. The heat is stifling, almost unbearable, hot skin against hot skin, but when his fingers find you soaked, and he’s pressing two inside you, everything makes sense again.

Nothing outside of this room matters. Not for the next few hours. The police, the dead husband, the nightmares that have started to creep in at night. None of it matters anymore. Not when Joel curls his fingers just perfectly, making you cry out to the ceiling with your head tossed back. When it’s like this you remember why you did it, to be with him, and only him.

“Knew this would’a shut you up.” Joel murmurs into your skin, face pressed between your breasts as he nips marks into the skin there.

Your hips are working in time to the thrusts of his fingers inside you, shamelessly grinding yourself into his palm so it’s not just his fingers inside that are setting you alight, but the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit on every move forward you make.

You can feel yourself tightening around him, getting closer, and you know he can feel it too, his fingers getting harder inside you with each push.

“Come on baby,” He coos, “Let go for me.”

And it’s always been that simple. He only has to say it and you do. Soft screams filling the room as your cunt spasms around his fingers. Body shaking as he holds you to his own, working you through it.

There’s no real reprieve for you after. Joel shifts you so you’re lying face down on the couch, and through the haze you can hear his belt buckle being undone and the zipper of his jeans being pulled down.

His hand fishes underneath your body, pulling you up so you’re draped across the arm of the couch, ass splayed upwards and legs spread wide. His hand runs up and down your swollen cunt a few times, gathering your wetness which you know he’s using to pump his cock with, before you feel the head of him at your hole.

He’s unforgiving when he pushes in, giving you everything all at once as he surges forward inside of you. He’s touching the deepest parts of you and you swear you see stars. You hear him sucking in breath behind you, his two hands gripping your ass to pull you open you he can watch himself slide in and out of your cunt.

There are no words spoken between the two of you, the only sounds that can be heard are the sounds of his skin slapping against yours, the obscene squelch of you cunt when he pushes in, and the moans you both let out.

He’s rough, but you don’t mind. You want it to consume you, the pleasure and the tinge of pain every time his cock nudges at your cervix. It means you don’t think about anything else, just how good this feels, how good he makes you feel and how right it feels now that there isn’t someone else to think about. Joel has always felt right, like the person you were always meant to find, but it’s different now.

One of his hands comes up to grip your wrist on the arm of the couch, dragging it underneath you until you feel your cunt.

“Rub it for me baby,” He growls into your ear, “I wanna do this one together.”

So you do - you circle your clit with your middle finger, pressing harder and harder on every circle as he pounds into your cunt like it’s the last time he’ll have you like this. He’s gripping the back of your neck, pushing you further down into the material of the couch.

“Come on baby,” He groans above you, “You can do it.”

“Joel,” You squeak out, almost pathetically, “I think I’m gonna-”

“Go on then baby,” He says, “I’m right behind you.”

You let yourself go, feeling your cunt squeeze his cock as you gush around him. Your mouth is dropped open but there is no sound, only the hot spark that flushes across your body when he buries himself as deep inside of you as he can and stills, filling every inch of you with his cum.

His body falls onto yours, both of you struggling to catch breath as you recover. Joel eventually moves enough so that you can both lay down, pressed up against his body, almost uncomfortably so. His skin is hot to the touch and you can see small bruises on his neck and chest starting to rise where you’d bitten him - you suspect you must look the same.

There’s silence for a while, his hand tracing gently up and down your back, before you can think to ask anything.

“What are we gonna do, Joel?”

It takes him a while to respond, probably weighing up his options. There aren’t many. He goes home and has to explain everything to the police and goes to jail, or he stays here with you, keeps running and hope for the best.

He’s quiet when he says it, but you can tell when he does speak that whatever he’s feeling is genuine. He’s too far in now, there’s no going back, and you both know that.

“We keep runnin’ baby.”

[st4ytiny]

Fucking pervert

Warnings: subby Yunho. Pervert Yunho😛😛, fem bodily description, no specified agreement on kinky? Like rough sex, heavy sub/dom dynamics, lots of bad words/insults. Slapping, jerking off, cock slapping, idk anymore

An: this was supposed to be longer, but I gave up as I ran out of both motivation and thoughts🙏 writing this on my phone.. Pervert Yunho!!!!😛

Yunho who’s your sweet boy. Your lovely boyfriend of soon a year. The man who raised your standards through the roof and to the fucking sky. Okay sure he’s a bit nerdy, a bit of a weirdo but by Lord it adds to his charm. You watch him ramble about stuff he’s grossly interested in. Nodding along, pouting your bottom lip just right and tracing the edge of your acrylics across his bottom lip.

Yunho who got so awkward the first night you shared together. Empty bottles of alcohol littering the coffee table and clothes scattered around your apartment like your closet had just exploded. Hasty kisses, heavy touches and a.. whimpering Yunho? You looked up on the taller man. Poor guy that had sexted you the nastiest shit ever, is crumbling under your gaze. You stifle a laugh as you shake your head, kissing his pretty thoughts away while dragging him to your bedroom.

Yunho who adoresssss being jerked or sucked off. By lordddd he loves it. Oh my god don’t get me started on under desk support? Or pulling him to some random bathroom while in public because you wanted to. Fuck and he returns the favour. HIS LONG FINGERSSSS!!!! Fuck they’re so pretty, coated in your slick as he pulls them out, making scissoring motions as he admires the way the slick strings between his fingers.

But tonight?

You had gotten home from an emergency meeting. It’s 11pm and he’s up, oblivious to when you’d even return.

You snuck inside in case he was asleep, other than that he’d be wearing headphones and gaming. Sighing as you slipped your shoes off and your ear perked up.

..

A moan? Whimper?

You’re intrigued as you made your way down the hall that seemed far longer than it should be. The whimpers got increasingly louder as you peaked through the half closed door. Yunho scrolling though your instagram? While jerking off? Into your panties? Your USED panties?

You run a hand through your hair as you knock on the door, leaning against the doorframe. He freezes as the whimpers dies down quicker than you could even blink. He doesn’t turn around or remove the hand around his cock. You clear your throat.

“Want a moment alone.. or…?”

He shudders at your tone and he shakes his head. Still refusing to look at you. Too ashamed.

“(Name)… help.. me, please—“

your head falls back as you let out a laugh, walking towards him as you grab a handful of his beautiful hair, tilting his head back against his gaming chair. You hold back from spitting on his face right then and there.

“Jerking off to my instagram? What are you? A fucking pervert or something? Do it yourself. You’ve already got my panties wrapped around your cock”

Scoffing as you let go off his hair harshly. A whimper bubbles up Yunho’s throat. You pause mid-step. Nothing. You keep walking.

Then it hits again, harder this time, voice trembling.

“Please— fuck, I can’t— need you, please, I’ll do anything—”

You turn your head slightly.

“Anything?”

The word hangs heavy in the air.

You glance back, his face is flushed deep, tears brimming, lips parted as he pants like he’s about to fall apart. His hips jerk up helplessly, chasing friction that isn’t enough.

That’s when something in you snaps.

Your smile turns sharp as you stalk back, grabbing a fistful of his hair again and yanking his head back so hard he gasps again.

“Anything, huh?” you hiss against his ear. “Then fucking get on with it.”

Your free hand slaps his thigh, hard enough to make him whimper.

“You wanna come? Beg louder. Beg like the filthy little pervert you are.”

His eyes glaze over as he nods frantically, completely broken, completely yours.

His eyes glaze over as he nods frantically, completely broken, completely yours.

You grin, sharp and wicked, and tighten your grip in his hair until he winces.

“That’s it. Louder. Let the neighbors hear what a needy little slut you are for me.”

His voice cracks as he whimpers your name, louder this time, hips stuttering up like he’s lost control of his own body.

Your free hand snakes down, grabbing his wrist and yanking it away from his cock. Earning a desperate sob from him as he bucks into the air, chasing friction.

“Aw. Poor baby,” you mock, leaning in until your lips brush his ear. “Did I fucking say you could touch yourself?”

He shakes his head wildly, tears finally spilling over.

“No— no, please, please, I need you, I need it so bad, I’ll be good, I swear—”

You cut him off by slapping the head of his cock, sharp and fast, making him choke on a scream.

“Beg harder.”

He sobs now, shameless, hips jerking like he can’t help it.

“Please, please, please— wanna cum, wanna cum so fucking bad, need you, need your hands, your mouth, anything— please— I’ll do anything, just touch me, please—”

You spit on his face before finally letting go of his hair and shoving him back against the chair.

“Pathetic fucking pervert,” you growl. “Jerking off to my pictures like a loser and now you can’t even form a full sentence without crying.”

Your hand wraps around his cock, tight and rough from the start, making him scream your name like a prayer.

“There. That what you wanted? Huh? My hand?”

He nods so hard his head nearly bangs against the chair, face twisted in pleasure and pain.

“Good,” you spit, jerking him fast, ruthless.

“Because you’ll have to fucking do it yourself next time”

He sobs out a yes, already shaking apart in your grip as cum dribbled down his cock. Not even catching a breath before he gets hard again.

How could he not? You had never been this ruthless before. He loved it, maybe even too much.

[crimsoncandy04]

Have u ever thought of Scara w tentacles😳 like he was an experiment and we are the one in charged of cater for him, then one day he escape and take us with him to breed cause' he really likes us... Idk if it's possible but might lay eggs for him. Please try writing it one day!! Tysm for those fics u feed uso(≧▽≦)o

I should really check my inbox more often than I do. This is literally such a hot idea.

(also just a heads up, I'm absolutely blasted right now while writing this so if it's not perfect I'm so sorry. Cannabis gummies are a double edged sword for me. On one hand I get the BEST ideas to write but then on the other I forget how words work)

Hope you like it;)

You had seen some weird stuff in your 25 years. It was expected though. You WERE working for the fatui and under one of the more deranged harbingers known for fucked up experimentation too.

However, being put in charge of one of the less important projects involving the sixth harbinger had proven to be more than you were prepared to handle.

A LOT more.

You had no idea why he allowed this to happen or if it was just a bizarre side effect of another failed experiment. But one thing was for certain, the sixth harbinger had been altered physical and now needed to be restrained at all costs. He had actual tentacles growing from his back. Like REAL ones. And for some reason they seemed to have minds of their own at times.

Thrashing around and hitting the thick glass of the containment room as if trying to break out while the young man at their base sat on the cold concrete ground and refused to look at you each time you went over to slide him food through a small opening in the wall that your hand could barely fit through.

You weren't important enough to know the details of what went on in your boss's lab but you had to admit that the sentient tendrils were a bit pretty to look at.

They were a deep indigo. Almost black with small barely discernable silver accents along the sides.

They appeared almost metallic in the right lighting and you had to make yourself look away and stop staring sometimes because you didn't want to be rude.

You were here to complete a job and that was all.

Until the night everything went to shit of course.

You were summoned sometime after midnight along with two other subordinates to check the lab for accidents after a security alarm was triggered for unknown reasons.

You rushed in and immediately you felt your blood go cold at the sight before you.

He had escaped.

Shattered glass lay at your feet as well as blood presumably from the guard who was now nowhere to be seen and most certainly dead.

You heard a yell from the room next to you.

"Stay here!" The other man with you insisted as he drew his gun and took off after the source of the cry.

You didn't need to be told twice.

Because right now you were confused but also rightfully scared.

What happened to the sixth harbinger? He never once gave you reason to believe he was distressed or restless before. He never even spoke to you when you fed him and checked the condition of his holding room.

Did you perhaps miss something?

What caused him to suddenly lash out and attack the guard?

And most importantly what happened to-

*PLOP*

You hear something hit the ground next to you and slowly turn your head to look.

You shriek.

On the ground next to you was the decapitated head of the subordinate who had just left to search for the other man.

You immediately tried to run but were stopped in your tracks as something wrapped around your waist and hoisted you into the air.

You tremble and go silent. Preparing for the worst when you look down and meet eyes with the sixth harbinger.

One of his many new appendages coiled around your middle and rendering you helpless as you silently prayed to every archon you could remember that if you were to die here it would be quick and painless.

He narrows his eyes up at you.

"You. You didn't want to try killing me as well?"

You struggle to answer as you shake violently.

"No sir. I see you nearly every day. I assumed something was wrong and that you were seeking help. I didn't feel like it was right to murder you."

"Are you scared?"

You felt your heart race.

Something about his tone seemed off. Different.

Did he...enjoy the fact that you were clearly terrified?

You closed your eyes and sighed.

Alright.

Every life had its end. This was surely yours.

Don't think about it. Go to your safe place Y/N.

You suddenly feel more tentacles slither around your arms and legs.

You immediately open your eyes as you feel them spread your knees apart.

What the FUCK!?

There's a chuckle from underneath you.

"I must admit... I am enjoying your terror immensely."

Obviously.

You feel an indigo tendril slowly slide up your shirt and wiggle underneath your bra. coiling around one of your breasts and squeezing it roughly as you feel your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. It was cold and slimy but thanks to what you assumed was the natural power of the young man before you, the tentacles emitted a gentle electro current throughout their entire lengths and the sensation caused the muscles in your limbs and stomach to relax unwillingly as you were fondled.

The entire stimulation was now sending jolts of unwilling arousal through you. Scaramouche's eyes darken as he feels your nipple stiffen against one of his slick, muscular coils which had wrapped itself tightly around one of your tits and was now rubbing its head against your delicate peak. Making you struggle to stay quiet.

"Your body is betraying you. How does it feel existing in such a delicate and worthless form? I'm not even trying yet-."

Another tendril snakes up your thigh, sliding beneath your skirt, the cool slickness a shock against your bare skin as you didn't expect this so quickly. It inches higher, brushing against your clothed sex.

Scaramouche chuckles darkly at your soft whimpers then, his voice a sinful caress in your aroused mind as you're made to enjoy this against your will.

"I can still feel you with these. You're so wet already. Does it feel good being teased in such a disgraceful manner? Or were you always this much of a slut?"

He grins wickedly, a predatory gleam in his indigo eyes. The tendrils tighten their grip, squeezing and kneading your most sensitive places, stoking the fire within your core. The air crackles with his power and reeks of your excitement.

A small tentacle hooks into the waistband of your panties and suddenly rips them off completely, baring your glistening sex to the cool air. Another one quickly begins to rub against your slick folds, teasing your wet entrance.

"What a cute little hole~ hmm. I wonder what would happen if I-"

The thick tentacle at your entrance instantly rams itself inside in one painful push, stretching your tight pussy and curling in to rub against your sweet spot as it began to thrust quickly. You could only gasp and cry out as you felt another tentacle slither up your thigh and rub your clit at the same time.

Your eyes widened.

It hurt yet it felt like you had ascended to Celestia all at once.

You force yourself to cry out before you went insane.

"S-Scara! Please! It's too big! You're... stretching me!"

Scaramouche smirks up at your quivering body as he feels your tight walls clenching desperately around his invading tendril. He grinds it deeper, relishing your breathy moans and gasps, the electric current making your body shudder with every caress and thrust.

"Too big? Ha. Your greedy little cunt is taking every inch like it was made for it. Like it was made for me."

He pulls back slightly, then slams the tentacle in deeper. The wet squelching sounds of the violation fill the room, mingling with your increasingly wanton moans and whimpers.

"Listen to yourself, enjoying the feeling of being so ruthlessly defiled. You can't deny your true nature Y/N. You're a weak and disposable creature. I've seen how you go out of your way to try and care about me. How you act so..."selfless" and "considerate" when forced to tend to me knowing damn well it was all only to delude yourself into believing you were making a difference. Tell me, was it tiring?"

Tendrils squeeze your breasts harder, the electric shocks making your nipples stiffen into aching peaks. Another then pushes into your mouth, silencing your cries and leaving you gasping around the slick intrusion.

"It must have been exhausting. Pretending like you actually cared so much. Did you enjoy your little charade? Was it nice pretending like you weren't worth less than the dirt on my shoes because you were "helping "?"

Scaramouche's voice is a dark, lustful growl as he crosses his arms and continues to watch as his tentacles ruin you. The tendril pistoning into your cunt speeds up, the electric shocks growing stronger, pushing you closer and closer to a reluctant release.

"Come for me, Y/N. Come on my tentacles like the wanton slut you are. You wanted something like this right? To be seen and "loved"? Well let go then."

As Scara speaks, another tentacle snakes down to your puckered rear entrance. It teases the tight ring of muscle, the electric current making it relax. Slowly it pushes inside, stretching your virgin hole around the slick invader.

"Such a tight little asshole... I will enjoy breaking this in as well. You'll be my perfect little fuck toy, ready and eager for me at all times. How does that sound?"

The tentacle in your mouth begins fucking deeper into your throat, making you gag and choke a little. The one in your ass pushes deeper, stretching you impossibly further now as everything borders on pleasure and pain now in an overwhelming way.

"That's it, just like that. Take it all. Take every inch, every inch of my desire. You'll learn to crave this, to need this, to be nothing but a set of holes for me to fill and use. I'll give you a purpose. A reason to exist. Just like you always wanted."

Scaramouche's eyes blaze with sadistic lust as he watches you try to writhe and struggle, your body shaking with unwanted pleasure, your mind clouding with shame and need. He knows he has you now, knows that he can shape you, mold you, ruin you for all others.

And it's driving him insane.

You had caught his attention long ago but of course you were too stupid to notice. You always thought his tentacles were just being "aggressive". No. He had been trying to get you to say something to him. But every time you just stared at him, gave him a stupid little tray of food that he didn't even need. And then just left.

You couldn't blame him for getting a little frustrated and impatient. You had practically forced him to make the first move here.

A couple of minutes went by and suddenly you feel something else being stuffed into your stretched cunt alongside the enormous tentacle already buried inside.

Two smaller and practically microscopic sized tentacles wiggle in and begin to tease your cervix opening. Slowly coaxing their way into your womb as you feel yourself climaxing from the intrusion.

The tentacles writhe and squirm in your womb, painting your inner walls with their slick, tingling essence.

You suddenly feel a deep pressure as something is pumped directly into your womb. You wince and cum again as Scara begins to forcibly impregnates you with his offspring yet instead of your earlier nervousness or shame, you now feel oddly at ease. As if your new reality finally set in for you.

It was kinda enjoyable.

Scaramouche chuckles darkly as he feels your womb trying instinctively to reject his eggs. But the tendrils hold fast, forcing the small yet soft jelly-like lavender eggs deeper, stretching your most intimate space to its limits.

You had finally accepted your place it seemed. Utilizing your body's full potential from here would be far more easy with you now more willing to endure the process and transformation.

The tendrils continue their relentless assault, pumping more and more of the eggs into you, each one a cruel mockery of a seed, a promise of the countless times he will fill you after this as well. You had one purpose now. To be used, bred like a bitch in heat. All for the singular goal of birthing a new army for Scaramouche and his future plans.

You were important for this reason alone.

"Welcome to your new life, mortal. Welcome to eternity as my personal fuck toy, my breeding bitch, my eternal plaything. And you will love every moment of it. I promise."

A few hours pass and your belly swells quickly. During this short incubation period Scara manages to stretch your holes even further almost to the point of beyond recognition. Three tentacles now thrusted in and out of your ruined asshole and Scara had decided to reposition you both to keep an eye on you and to jam another thick tentacle deep into your pussy and continue to ravage it while he silently marveled at your swollen belly from where he now stood over you.

His hands roam possessively over the stretched skin of your stomach. He can feel the eggs he's planted inside you, each one a testament to his dark triumph, a promise of the future that he envisioned where he was untouchable by absolutely anyone. God or human alike.

"Look at you, already so round and full. And this is only the beginning, my dear. I will fill you again and again, until you know nothing but the feeling of carrying my offspring."

He leans down, his lips brushing against the taut skin of your stomach, his voice a dark, mocking murmur.

"Such an easy bitch to breed, so quick to take my eggs, to let them take root inside you. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant to be my incubator, my vessel. And now, here you are, already looking like a proper mother~"

The tentacles continue their relentless assault, stretching you impossibly further, The one now sucking on your clit pulses in time with your racing heartbeat, pushing you to yet another orgasm.

More tendrils move to your heavy, aching breasts again, squeezing and kneading the swollen flesh. They latch onto your nipples, suckling greedily, the electric currents making milk drip faster as it's quickly consumed.

More time goes by. You aren't sure how much exactly but then.

You feel movement in your belly and an uncomfortable shift as the eggs begin to hatch within you. The tentacles in your pussy immediately slide free and smaller ones seize your battered lips before rudely pulling on them to reveal your now loose and sloppy canal in its entirety.

Within seconds a small writhing indigo tentacle pushes its way out of your cervix and begins its descent.

Scaramouche's eyes widen with a fevered, manic light as he watches the first of his offspring emerge and fall to the floor with a small thud. He leans in closer, his breath coming faster as he watches the next little and writhing indigo tentacle push its way out, covered in fluids and its own natural secretions, a grotesque parody of a newborn.

"Look at that... your womb was actually able to grow these things without issue, your body has given life to my creation. I knew I made no mistake when I chose you for this."

The tentacles in your ass begins to writhe and pulse at that moment, easily pulling free from your body to make room for more of the "children " to emerge. Within seconds they start slipping out of your abused holes like nightmarish serpents and forming a horrific pile beneath your deflated body. Their movements are jerky and erratic, their beautiful flesh glistening in the dim light as they slowly start to slither up your legs in search of the warmth they once knew moments ago.

"Such a good mother, so efficient in your purpose. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant for this. And now, look at you... a true incubator, an ideal vessel for what is to come."

Scaramouche reaches down, his fingers brushing against the writhing mass of tentacles, stroking them like a proud parent would a newborn. They pulse and twitch at his touch, as if recognizing their creator, their master.

"They will be the first of many, the vanguard of a new age, a new era of power and dominance."

Your belly continues to churn from inside, more of the eggs hatching, more of the small tentacle creatures slipping out to join their brethren. The floor quickly fills with their jerking, twisting forms, a nightmarish scene.

Scaramouche's maniacal laughter then rings out, echoing off the walls, a sound of pure, unhinged joy at his dark triumph. He knows that he has won. Because with this plan now in action, no one would be able to oppose him for long.

And the world would be his for the taking.

[always1star]

hug me!!!

jjk men vs. hugging x gn!reader

includes: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, and sukuna (seperate pairings)

fluff, no warnings. headcannons :3

a/n: my first time writing for some of these characters.. help..

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

gojo who hugs you playfully. the type of guy to pick you up and spin you around, i feel. the whole time youre begging him to put you down because youre dizzy, but he just laughs and carries on. also the type of guy to go in for a hug and then tickle you mercilessly. he always has you giggling when youre in his hold, and hes pretty much smiling the whole time too. hot take: he doesnt really hug people, but hes really big on physical touch. so, although he wont hug you often, his hands are always slung around your shoulder, wrapped around your waist, or holding onto your hands.

geto who likes greeting hugs. will always start his hellos with a hug and say his goodbyes with one too. every time you see him, you expect it. usually has a hold on your back with one arm and your waist with his other. usually holds you just long enough to inhale your scent, then lets you go. he likes being a casual hugger, but his hugs always seem memorable.

nanami who is a little bit of an awkward hugger. like, loose side hug kind of feel. i mean, he does hug you, but its more like pulling you in just enough so that your chest is barely grazing against his, and he kind of just… slightly rubs/pats your back a little. pulls away quickly. i feel hes a lot bigger on small, intimate touches rather than things like hugging. ex. when he sits next to you he will find your hand and play with your fingers, stuff like that.

toji who basically engulfs you in all of his hugs. hes got such a big frame that youre basically just squished in him. he hugs you tight, arms around your waist, pushing air up out of you. he doesnt really seem like the kinda guy to ask for hugs, but he is such a sucker for them. will hug you whenever he can, no matter his mood. he holds you for a long time, making hours of your day dedicated to holding him. hes kinda like a big teddy bear basically.

sukuna who is NOT a hugger. if you really want to, maybe he will put his arm around your shoulder for a little. i am dead set on this man being a d1 kisser but a downright refuser for hugs. he thinks it makes him look too soft or something idk. just doesn’t enjoy being restricted in someone elses arms.

[lostinlovingrevery]

Info dump your fave Logan things and concepts SFW and NSFW so one of us can write you a banging indulgent fanfic? Lemme spoil u bbygrl. ( Nonny bc Idk if this is chill or if I'm weird for this. 😭 )

NONNNNNNY YOU ARE SO SWEET I'M GONNA CRRRYYYY

I could go on FOR HOURS about my fav logan things omg, so i'll try to keep this down to my FAV favorites <3 (SFW and NSFW ahead!)(i might make another similar post w a whole bunch more bc this got me thiiiinkiiin)

SFW

Logan listening to hyperfixations, STRAIGHT UP. He may sit silently, and do other stuff while you rant, but he LISTENS so good. makes comments and reassures that hes still listening

Soft, gentle touches. Him putting his hand on your lower back when leading you through a crowd, scratching your back or arm while cuddling (God im such a slut for that)

LAUGHING TOGETHER. I wanna see that man GIGGLE. I wanna see him GUFFAWING. he's laughing so hard he's crying.

Logan likes to sit outside during his downtime I think. I think he likes being able to breathe fresh air (and probs smoke freely without anyone jumping his ass over it lmao). Imagine sitting on the porch on his lap during a spring thunderstorm. His big arms wrapped around you protectively. bonus points if you're on a porch swing (altho w how heavy logan is COULD he sit on a porch swing w/o breaking it???)

butterfly kissess butterfly kisses

we talk a lot about his deep passionate kisses and believe me I LOVE THAT. but Lately i just been obsseseed with him giving fluttery lil kisses all over your face

also nose nuzzles. ive been including those a lot in my fics lmao

God i love his beard so much, wanna scratch it and pet it. I like to think he'd would teasingly rub it all over your face

WAIT A MIN. CATS DO THAT.

lmao

early morning snuggles

yknow those super passionate kisses and dips those old hollywood movies do? yeah that with Logan

NSFW

unfg

His. Stamina. God i want this man going at it with me for HOURS.

TBH Im so indecisive about what Logans fav position would be. I feel like mating press would drive him INSANE. You're bent and half and logan just SLAMMING his shit into you. so hard and fast the BED FRAME BREAKS

I LOVE the idea of Logan being this tough guy loner who could have anyone he wanted, but he becomes completely OBSESSED with you. Everything you do turns him on. You could put him smack in the middle of a strip club and he'll still be thinking about you

his shaky thighs when you suck him off and make him completely undone

him being so much bigger than you that you're pretty much swallowed by him. hes onto of you, between your legs and there's a significant STRETCH in how far you have to spread your legs for him to fit with his hips flush against yours

turning into a puddle underneath him as he fucks you sooooo good your speechless and in a whole another world, and he's just sweet talking and cooing at you how pretty you are and what a good girl you are and mmmmmph yes

manhandling. god i just want him to be forcing me into different positions and picking me up and carrying me all over the place. also just throwing me over his shoulder is fun

dominant but sweet orders. "Give me a kiss", "go on, take a seat." "get those pretty lips on my cock sweetheart" teehee

i'm a slut for creampies honestly almost everyone of my smut fics has a creampie lmao. logan DEF loves a good creampie

[sleepincrow]

contains: toxic behaviour, toxic!reader this was itching my brain, idk what to tell you. i like having morally ambigious reader... or idk, is it too tame? i have no idea where the line meets and ends when it comes to dark shit cus i usually stay in the other side of the line. whenever i think of dark stuff its in a comedic-ish light and everything turns fluffy in the end idfk. tell me what else i should add in the warnings 😞

edit: i made it readable, i should really start readproofing.

hear me out..

reader who doesnt do anything when their boyfriend is mean. like theyre just generally pissed off and huffing at you when youre trying to greet them with open arms and a warm smile when they come home.

reader who doesnt confront them about their horrible behavior and how it affected them. no, just stay silent, take in whatever your boyfriend had to say or do and leave him be.

ohooooh, you mightve done nothing but youre going to give them something much worse than a silent treatment.

youre not a doormat. youre not a crybaby.

i want reader to be absolutely menacing. if that man doesnt come back crawling, apologizing to you, youre gonna make him.

do you understand me? the anger, the absolute disgust that bubbles in your stomach, that claws its way up your chest like an animal looking for a fresh breath of air before it starts to hunt.

youre silent all of the sudden, giving him the driest texts known to man, leaving him on seen with texts that dont technically need a reply instead of dragging the conversation longer with a picture of a cat you saw on your way home. youre picking up more work than usual, unable to cut some time, telling him youve got things to do—things more important than having to watch some tv with him, be in bed with him.

youre clever. you know your schedule, and you know his. rearrange everything, make sure to make as much commotion in your life that doesnt include him, so when he confronts you, youre technically telling the truth when you say youre busy.

because why bother coming home early, greeting him, surprising him with dinner and a loving kiss?

then watch it all go down. technically, youre not doing anything wrong, youve got your plate full with a screenshot of your planned calendar to pair with it as sweet, sweet evidence.

youre watching him slightly deteriorate. watch him panic. he'll buy you flowers, in which you put in a vase but never take care of like before. he'll buy you jewelry you wont wear because "theyre beautiful but i like the old ones too! ill wear them on a special occassion" that wont ever come.

the frustrated, panicked look on his face is priceless. it feels so good. he cant even be mad because youre not even cheating! you have all the alibis, all the witnesses. youre perfectly happy and sweet as before! just.. not as responsive, not as present. but thats not your fault, thats your job's!

if he pays for you, slowly start paying your half of everything. shows that you are stable and everything would be perfectly fine if he went up in left. in the end, thats why he got angry with you in the first place, right? he's so okay with being angry, not telling you his problems, that he can keep it to himself, right?

he doesnt need your lap to lay his head on, not your food that you prepare for him when he comes home, not the soft touches you leave on his overworked skin and definitely not the words that you coo at him everyday before he pissed you off.

make him know what the once delicious thought of takeout tastes like once he's left to fend for himself while you go out for overtime at work! trust me, its gonna taste a hell of a lot more bland, a lot more dull. depressing, really.

dont even get me STARTED on sex. (i wont, not now)

this is all justifiable, right? after all, this is how you communicate your feelings right? this is how you can show him how you felt when he showed you a cold shoulder at your warm embrace! let him have the full experience when you felt pathetic, miserable, useless.

plus, youre not wrong, arent you? you can leave whenever you want! who is he to tell you that you cant leave? as if he owns you—is that what he thinks? is that what he thinks of you? just a not-so-significant other that he can come home to whenever he wants and project his feelings unto?

no, no youre not. youre not gonna take that bullshit. he can roll it up, pack it in a bag and beat it if thats what he's thinking. no, both of you are holding an end of a rope in this relationship. a big, thick rope which you can cut off with that large ass scissor you both have.

this is just you telling him, reminding him that you can cut it whenever you like! its not threatening, not manipulation, straight truth! you CAN leave any relationship you like! its his problem if he doesnt like it, right?

your poor little boyfriend has to get his act together! start thinking straight! unless he wants to deal with your unyielding, harsh wrath for the rest of his soon-to-be miserable life.

after all, he made the first threat to your relationship, right? its just a reminder!

[deadghosy]

Platonic slytherin boys with a keeper friend🐍

Ft: Tom Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire

Warning: it may be bad cause I only wrote this for fun and I don’t know "much" about the Slytherin boys 😭 but I only did this cause I’m getting Hogwarts legacy soon for my birthday!

Tom Riddle

You hold ancient magic? He’s using you like the evil bastard he is until he actually feels a connection with you. Maybe protectiveness. He might just still use you though.

Waking you up in the middle of the night in his uniform, towering over you with a dark look as he just kicks your bed. Vibrating it. Making you jolt up disoriented from your woke.

“Get up. I require your presence and help for something. And don’t ask for anything.”

“What the fuck?”

He absolutely loves it when you do your magic spells, he finds them unique and intriguing. You easily doing your blue lightning.

Especially he finds it very easing how you can one shot your enemies and make them disappear into thin air. He’s surely gonna make you his right hand.

Mattheo Riddle

“I want you to strike that bitch right over there.”

“Mattheo no.”

I feel like mattheo would try to make you blast a person he hates to dust just for fun. He is definitely a Kendrick type of hater and he knows it.

He found it secretly hot when you did struck down an enemy that tried to harm you. Mattheo would be that mf that would joke about wanting you to smite him. He also wanted you lift him up and down as if he was flying. He was high when he asked.

“Smite me. Just once.”

“Get the fuck out my room riddle.”

But honestly he likes how powerful you are, and with Mattheo being the son of the dark lord. He deems the two of you a powerful duo and he’s living for it.

Theodore Nott

Idk how to write about this one…but stick with me.

This beautiful Italian man honestly wouldn’t ask a lot of questions and just roll with the fact that you are a keeper of ancient magic. He only would ask one question a month, probably overthinking that he might annoy you with a lot of questions.

“Do you ever wish to have normal magic?” He asked you as he leans against your lap.

You look down, combing his hair with your fingers as you hum. “Eh I guess so. But I was chosen to be a keeper. To have this responsibility to harvest ancient magic.”

He only hummed and closed his eyes. And just like that another question would pop up another month.

Draco Malfoy

“Wait until my bestie hears about this!” “Wait until L/N destroys you!” Is all people hear when they have "crossed" the malfoy boy.

Harry was a victim to this of course, he was slightly scared because of the rumors went around that you held ancient magic. He knew you were practically unstoppable.

So when Harry first met you, he was shocked that you were kind and told him that you weren’t gonna fight him. It was funny to see Draco scold you and drag you away with your arm.

His father might consider you worthy of “courting” his son, but really Draco sees you other than a spouse. And more like a good friend he can count on when times are rough.

Lorenzo Berkshire

Immediately wants you to teach him some of your ancient magic skills if you can.

When he watches you dual with others, he’s taking notes with a smile. Happy to have you as a friend but mostly he has something to do.

He would asks you questions, like random in the night type stuff. The stuff where you’re asleep until he’s shaking you in the crack of dawn just to ask you a simple question.

“When you feel a burst of magic, do you just throw it at enemies like that muggle show called dbz?”

“What?” Straight up you turned to him shocked as you didn’t even expect that from him.

Honestly he just wants to learn more about you, he loves to listen to you. So why not educate him on your magic.

[stvrrlau]

𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪.

⤷⤷ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 sunghoon can't help but be drawn to you.

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨.ᐟ obsessed!stalkerish!sunghoon⋆muse!fem!reader

𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦.ᐟ crazily obsessed sunghoon—like girl go file a warrent alr smh, sunghoon literally just glazing u, borderline freaky stuff???? idk man, making out, yn ignores all red flags (tbh fair enough) sunghoon has glasses (😈) written all from sunghoon's pov idk if it ruins it 4 u 💔

𝘴𝘵𝘷𝘳𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴.ᐟ OMG GUYS ????????? (≧ᗜ≦) TYSM 4 SO MUCH ATTENTION ON MY FIRST POST!!! my ao3 is also getting popular ily u all sm <333 wrd count۶ৎ 4 455

SUNGHOON

it was the same. all the same.

all day, everyday, day in, day out, models, all doing the same things, striking the same poses, making same expressions, they were all the same.

the models may have been pretty, but none of them had that spark. none of them had what she had.

———

“sunghoon—i don’t understand. you’re so skilled with a camera but some of these photos came out looking—eh.” the director said, his tone almost distant as he flipped around the same photo multiple times, squinting at the photo, like it had personally wronged him.

“maybe the photos are so “eh”, because the models are “eh”.” i muttered, flicking through the images on my camera, scrolling past image after image of plastic smiles and glassy eyes.

my camera felt heavier with every shoot. stuffed with faces i couldn’t care less about. faces that blurred together the second the lights went off.

my precious camera, filled to the brim with the same prissy models who stand there and bark orders at the staff. god. i almost felt physically repulsed. i needed a new camera, my own personal camera, but unless the pay for this job drastically increased, i was stuck with my work and their work mixing—bleeding into one.

“well sunghoon—you’re going to have to at least pretend to enjoy your job because most of these images will not work.” he said, tossing the picture he finished scrutinizing aside, turning to face me with a glint in his eye. something dangerous.

“because if you can’t get it right next time—i’ll make you keep re-doing it. again. and again. and again.”

and with that he left, the echo of his polished shoes clicking on the ground a stark reminder of what i had gotten myself into. hell.

i exhaled harshly, sitting up in my chair. how was any of that mess out there, considered beautiful? my work. that—that was art.

art was supposed to be real: staring lifelessly into a camera, pouting and flailing your limbs around like a mad man, that wasn’t real. it was fake. all fake.

i sat silently, flicking through my photos, finally feeling at peace. my photos weren’t fake. they were real. a hell of a lot realer than whatever was going on outside.

speaking of which, the familiar echo of stiletto heels clicked down the corridor, followed by an endless amount of high pitched squawking and complaints.

finally. i could leave.

i waited for the studio to empty out, flicking off the last switch and silently leaving the hell-hole—also known as the company i worked for.

finally. finally, i could take pictures of what i truly wanted—pictures of real art.

the city.

———

the city was different after dark.

gone were the hollow poses, the forced perfection. the streets didn’t need a filter, didn’t need retouching. the neon lights flickered like open veins, bleeding soft pinks and electric blues across the cracked pavement. the air was cold, sharp, alive.

i took a deep breath, a shiver running through my body as i did so. even so, i grasped my camera tightly, my hands already turning red from the cold, and went on my mission. 

take pictures of what i want. not what others want.

———

windows glowed like little stories waiting to be captured. strangers passed by in fleeting glances, faces half-hidden beneath streetlights, cigarette smoke swirling like halos around their heads.

the strangers.

my favourite.

out in the city, no one cared what designer bag you had stored away in your twenty meter by twenty meter wardrobe. no—out in the city, people had places to be, they didn’t have time to dilly-dally, people had an aim to complete.

just like me.

i aimed to take pictures of art.

out here, i didn’t need perfect lighting. i didn’t need a director breathing down my neck. all i needed was the click of my shutter, the hum of the city, and the darkness that wrapped around me like an old friend.

———

the rain had stopped hours ago, yet the silver streets still glistened like it was a few moments ago. puddles littered the ground wherever i went, small pools of mirrors stealing my attention wherever i went.

i found myself pausing, crouched down on the sidewalk, camera hanging loose around my neck as i stared at a puddle.

the moon was perfectly reflected, in all it’s glory, in that small mirror.

my fingers twitched as i reached for my camera, my touch already on the shutter, capturing the moment, saving it, for me, forever.

slowly, i released the camera from my grasp, letting it hang from my neck again, as something else caught my attention.

a tall lamppost, old, rusty, crooked, its light flickering like a dying star, stretching long and thin across the puddle’s surface.

the shot was perfect. 

my hands quickly scrambled for the camera, quickly capturing the sight before me, before it disappeared right before my eyes.

quickly, my hands frantically pressed every button so i could check the shot. just as i thought: it was perfect.

too perfect.

i glanced up for a moment, before noticing the reason why. it wasn’t the scene. it was her.

her.

there she stood, in my camera, the light of the lamppost cast down on her, creating a sort of halo around her, her own little world. she wasn’t even posing: simply walking, from what i assumed work, her hand delicately wrapped around her bag, her coat framing her figure, falling just above her ankles.

she was what i was missing. she was my spark. she was my art. my muse.

my head whipped up from staring down at my camera, just to catch a glimpse of her disappearing into the shadows. and just like that she was gone. gone before i could do anything else.

but i’d make sure i’d see her again. she was my spark. she was my muse. she was what i needed. i need to make her mine.

because art like her doesn’t belong to the streets. it belongs to someone who can capture it. preserve it. own it. someone like me.

———

i sat in the studio, staring at my camera.

this time i wasn’t flicking through my pictures though, no—this time i was only looking at one. the one with her.

the longer i looked, analyzed, the more i had to find her again.

i felt my breathing come in short gasps, my heart pound wildly in my chest, my body suddenly feeling warmer, hotter. but why was this happening to me? because of her. my muse. my spark.

today. i will find her.

———

as soon as work was over i rushed out of the studio, not giving a damn about the models that screeched loudly as i pushed through the crowded corridors.

without another thought, i headed to where i first saw her. where my camera first got a glimpse of her beauty.

i panted, leaning against a nearby wall but always on the look-out, my eyes scanning anyone that dared walk past.

i waited. and waited. and waited.

i waited for my muse, hoping, pleading with the city, to bring her to me. bring her back to me.

my hands hovered above the camera, practically shaking with excitement: i could feel it. she was close.

just as i expected, there she was.

there she was, a slight skip in her step, walking home, as if it meant nothing at all. to me, it meant the world.

i didn’t hesitate. my hands firmly held the camera, producing picture after picture, until, just like the fateful night yesterday, she disappeared out of my sight. she’ll be back though. i know she will.

with shaky hands, i began to go through the photos, licking my lips nervously.

i bit back a gasp that threatened to escape my mouth, each photo more beautiful than the last. that coat, that bag, those shoes, that hat, that girl. she was a model like no other. and she was all mine.

———

days blurred into nights. and nights blurred into her.

the first time wasn’t enough. not even close. after that second encounter, i knew the city wasn’t just luck. it was fate.

our fate. we were meant for each other.

so i began studying her. studied her hobbies, what routes she took, what she liked, disliked, everything. i knew things about her that she herself probably didn’t know.

i learned everything.

her favorite stores. her favorite corners. the little flower shop she always passed but never entered. the crosswalk where she always stopped, even when the streets were empty. the café table she chose without fail, always second from the window, always her back to the world.

my camera became my weapon. and her? she was still the masterpiece i hadn’t finished capturing.

my camera never left my side. and neither did she.

whether she knew it or not, her life had already been printed onto film. captured, frozen, sealed away for me. for my eyes. for my keeping. sd cards filled with photographs of her—only her.

the first photograph didn’t satisfy me—no. it only fed the hunger—the monster inside of me, the monster that was desperate to steal her away from all of humanity and keep her for myself.

and every new photo, every new angle, every new fleeting moment caught on camera—it all provided that same feeling. that short high, that short burst of pleasure that shook me to my core.

she was perfect.

she was mine.

even if she didn’t know it yet.

———

my shoulders slumped as i held my breath, eyes drinking in the countless photos stored away inside my camera.

her smile, her side profile, the tilt of her head as she waited for her morning coffee. every angle was perfection, every shot proof that she belonged to me, even if the world hadn’t caught up yet.

my thumb hovered over the trackpad, shifting from photo to photo, heart pounding in sync with every click.

i could stare at her forever.

i would.

the soft click of the studio door opening and the distant sound of people talking quickly snapped me out of my trance, making me jump, nearly dropping my camera and forcing me to tear away my gaze from the beauty on my screen.

but it was worth it because stood in front of me, her hands clasped together politely, a small smile on her face, was her.

her.

i felt the air in my lungs disappear in an instant, fumbling with the power off button before my secrets were on display to the whole world.

“sunghoon.”

i coughed awkwardly, suddenly hyper-aware of my posture.

“this is your new apprentice. be kind, or at least pretend. teach her well—who knows, maybe you’ll finally earn that raise.” and with that he left, leaving me alone—with her.

fuck she was even more prettier in person.

the way her hair perfectly framed her face, the way her clothes were perfectly suited to highlight her curves, the way her face looked at me with an expression i only wanted to keep to myself.

“i’m yn,” she smiled, her voice soft and innocent, like a blossoming flower in spring, “i hope we can get along with each other.”

she extended her hand slowly, almost shy at first, but then confidently continuing.

i extended my hand to shake hers, and the moment her palm pressed to mine, i felt it. the same way i felt it that night.

she was perfect. 

she was here.

here for me and only me.

i couldn’t stop the smile that made it’s way onto my face, one of those stupid grins you get when you’re tired but still happy. i licked my lips, my fangs peeking out for a moment before i spoke, trying to calm down.

“sunghoon. i’m sure we’ll get along just fine, don’t worry about it yn.” i replied, my voice far steadier than the storm brewing inside me. her name tasted sweet on my tongue, like sugar laced with poison—addictive, dangerous, and entirely mine.

———

i should’ve been teaching her about lighting. angles. exposure. but the way her brows furrowed in concentration was more artistic than any photo i’d ever taken.

“am i doing it right sunghoon?”

shit, even the way she says my name is perfect. the way my name fell from her mouth — soft, sweet, like honey melting on the tip of her tongue.

i didn’t answer right away. i couldn’t. not when i was too busy memorizing every inch of her face.

“y-yeah—but you should move your hand further up so you don’t accidentally delete anything.” i said.

confused, she moved her hand, still covering the wrong buttons. unsure, she looked at me for reassurance.

“no.” i murmured, shaking my head.

slowly, like a predator approaching its prey, i moved closer, suddenly stood behind her, so close close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin, to smell the soft floral perfume that clung to her wherever she went.

my hands found hers, fingers grazing her knuckles, slow, lingering, guiding.

“like this.” i whispered, my breath ghosting along the back of her neck.

i saw the subtle shiver that ran through her body and i bit my lip in an attempt to hold back a groan. fuck, this was bad. she wasn’t moving away, wasn’t screaming at me, calling me a creep, she just stayed in the same position.

like she didn’t want to move.

so close, that her hair tickled my face as she spoke.

her hair brushed against my cheek as she tilted her head slightly, voice light as ever, like the tension wasn’t making my pulse pound out of my chest.

“okay, but what if i want to compare multiple photos?”

“then you want to,” i spoke but i couldn’t hear myself, all i could think about was how her hands would feel without a camera, how she would feel pressed against the nearest wall, what she would taste like, how it would feel to crash my lips against hers right this moment—

“sunghoon! yn!”

i practically jumped, cursing whoever interrupted this sacred moment between me and her.

“you’re needed outside! come on!” someone shouted from the chaos outside.

reluctantly i stepped away from yn, immediately missing the feeling of having her so close to me.

i stared down at the ground, muttering something under my breath, feeling my fingers twitch in annoyance.

“i guess we should go.”

yn’s voice weaved into my mind like silk. as i looked up i was met with that inviting smile she always wore—the one that made me want to kiss her senseless.

“yeah..” i replied, that same stupid smile, the one she only ever saw, on my face.

“let’s go.”

———

silently, i gathered my things, my mind wandering back to the days earlier moments. the fact she didn’t move. the fact her scent still lingered even after all these hours. the fact she was all i could think about.

i slung my bag over my shoulder, camera hanging loosely around my neck as i walked casually towards the exit.

that was until i saw yn. stood at the exit. turning to face me. smiling at me.

fuck, i could already feel the heat spread throughout my body as i approached her, stopping a couple centimeters away from her.

“hey yn. you waiting for anyone?”

say no. say you aren’t. she couldn’t say yes. she was mine.

“yes actually!”

what bastard gets to keep her waiting? who was he? who did he think he was to keep my precious yn waiting?

“i was waiting for you! i figured we could walk home together.” she said, shyly looking away as she mentioned we could walk together.

my eyes widened, just for a moment, and i had to take a moment to gather myself.

“you’re waiting…for me?” i asked, still in disbelief.

she nodded.

“and you want to walk home with me?”

“that’s the goal.”

i was silent for a moment before i pulled myself together.

“yes, okay let’s go.” i nodded, clearing my throat awkwardly.

———

normally, the city at night was my haven, my sanctuary, my safe space. normally all i could focus on was the glow of the moon, the distant lights that twinkled from the cities windows, the hum of the engine from every car that passed by. normally i couldn’t tear my gaze away from the city. today, i couldn’t tear my gaze away from her.

her shoulder brushed mine, occasionally, and every single time i felt it, it sent a thrill through me so sharp it was almost painful. i’d memorized these streets. i’d memorized her steps. but tonight was different. tonight she was by my side, willingly.

she chose me to walk home with.

i stole glances when she wasn’t looking, watching the way the moonlight glowed against her skin, soft and silver like it had chosen only her to shine on, like she was under the night’s spotlight. the way her nose crinkled when she talked about something she was passionate about.

my camera swung around my neck with every step i took, my fingers aching to hold the weight of it in my hands, desperate to capture her in this perfect moment—but i didn’t need a photograph, it was already engraved into my memory, stored away for later use.

“sunghoon?” her voice pulled me out of my dazed thoughts, “you okay?”

i nodded, swallowing hard. i wasn’t okay—i was never okay when it came to her.

“you know,” i started, my voice lower than usual, “you shouldn’t walk home alone at night. it’s dangerous.”

she laughed lightly, kicking a loose pebble on the pavement, “that’s why i’m walking with you, isn’t it?”

it was quiet for a moment before she nodded.

“i suppose. there can be some creepy people around at this time.”

“creepy?” i said, raising an eyebrow, “sure. but no one would ever dare hurt you. not when i’m watching. they wouldn’t touch you. they wouldn’t even look at you.”

i paused, tilting my head slightly, letting the weight of my words settle.

“i wouldn’t let them.”

her grin only made it worse. the way she nudged me like it was some harmless joke.

“my hero,” she giggled.

if only she knew. i wasn’t saving her from the world. i was saving the world from her.

because she was mine. and i don’t share.

———

the studio was a mess the moment we walked in. lights half-assembled, makeup artists pacing in circles, and the frantic buzz of staff voices overlapping one another like a broken radio.

me and yn glanced at each other, weary eyes already tired and we don’t even know the reason for the mess.

i looked around, eyebrows twitching in mild annoyance—until i overheard the reason for the chaos.

“the model canceled last minute,” one of the assistants rushed by, nearly knocking into me, “we’re one short, sunghoon. the shoot can’t start without her.”

i sighed. of course she cancelled.

“she cancelled?” yn repeated in a hushed voice, speaking only to me, “does this happen often?”

“only when the models feel petty.” i groaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

“is there anyway we could help?” she asked.

before she spoke again, she swallowed nervously, like she was scared of what she was about to say.

“what is it?”

“do you think—i could replace the model?” she said hesitantly, looking up at me with those wide eyes that made me crazy.

before i could respond, another assistant rushed past us and then abruptly turned around.

“you!” she said, pointing at yn. my gaze hardened. what did she want with my yn?

“can you replace our model!? please! you look similar measurements and if i’m not too honest here, you look prettier, alright come on, you need to get changed!” the assistant rambled, quickly snatching yn out of my sight and into the modelling world.

i stood there, chewing my lip.

i had lost my apprentice, my yn, to a bunch of snobs who wanted to change her, try make her fit their ridiculous outfits like she wasn’t beautiful already.

but all of my thoughts disappeared when she appeared.

i felt as if time had stopped.

the dress. the fucking dress.

it wrapped around her like it was designed with her body in mind—clinging to every curve, slipping off one shoulder in a way that wasn’t accidental. her hair was slightly tousled, her lips tinted pink, her eyes soft but sharp as they flicked around, the once chaotic and now stunned, room. towards me.

i could barely swallow. my throat felt like sandpaper.

my fingers curled around the camera, knuckles turning white, chest tightening as the heat clawed its way through me, pooling in places i couldn’t control.

i stepped back, fast, clearing my throat.

“i’ll be back. i need... to check the light settings.”

a lie. the light was fine. everything was fine. except me.

i rushed out and fled to the nearest bathroom. in there i quickly splashed cold water onto my face, desperately trying to calm down. it was too late though as when i looked down there was already clear evidence of my arousal.

i groaned into my hands, rubbing at my face, feeling the heat throughout my body get only stronger.

fuck, fuck, fuck!

what was i going to do?

i couldn’t just go out there so everyone could see how hard i was, like a fucking animal in heat! what could i do?

“sunghoon! are you in there? we need you back out here!”

what was there to do?

i adjusted my jeans as much as possible, trying to hide my evident arousal, dried my face and took a deep breath. 

forcing my expression blank, i walked back into the studio, trying to mask every inch of the storm raging inside me.

i should have run. the second i stepped back into the studio it was game over.

 there she stood, under the lights, posing, the dress hugging her like sin, her eyes glancing toward the camera—toward me. like she already knew.

i shakily walked over and began instructing her, how to pose, her facial expressions, but i didn’t even have to. she looked beautiful either way.

i raised the camera, fingers shaking slightly, the weight of it grounding me for the smallest second.

click.

and then another.

click.

and another.

click.

each shot burned more than the last.

she didn’t know. but she was mine.

———

the studio finally emptied, the silence ringing in my ears louder than the chaos that happened less than two hours ago.

“yn.” i called her name, soft but firm.

she looked up, tilting her head slightly, strands of hair falling loose from behind her ear. god, even the way she looked at me made my thoughts spiral.

“do you mind staying a little longer?” i asked, trying to sound casual, even though my pulse was betraying me. “i still need to process the photos. dark room’s better when you’ve got an extra pair of hands.”

i waited, my heart heavy as she considered my words.

she nodded with a small smile, “sure.”

the two of us slipped into the dark room, the soft red light bathing her face in this surreal glow. the hum of the ancient lights above us filled the silence, sometimes broken by the occasional drip of developer fluid or the rustling of photographs.

i complied the photographs, treating them all with the same amount of care as the last, and gently placed them in the chemical trays, watching them bloom to life.

i could feel her beside me, close enough that her warmth radiated against my skin.

and then—her voice broke the quiet.

“...this one wasn’t part of the shoot.”

my stomach dropped. i turned, following her gaze to the photo she held between her fingers. the one i didn’t mean to leave out. the one i shouldn’t have printed.

it was her.

off-guard. smiling at an assistant.  head tilted slightly. lips parted. eyes soft and distant—caught in a moment i couldn’t resist stealing during the shoot.

a moment only i had ever seen.

she stared at me, her expression unreadable as she opened her mouth to speak again.

“you kept this?” her voice came out quieter, more fragile.

i swallowed but my throat felt tight.

“why?” she whispered.

i couldn’t lie. not anymore.

“because you looked beautiful. you always do.” i murmured, taking a hesitant step forward. when she didn’t move, i took it as a sign to continue.

“i’ve taken a lot of pictures, yn. but none of them—not a single one—ever felt right. until you.”

i licked my lips, my gaze still focused on the ground.

“you were different. you made the photo more alive. you weren’t just my muse—you were the spark inside me that caused this.”

she blinked, lips trembling slightly, and her voice barely came out as a whisper, “why me?”

i let out a soft breath, fingers twitching at my side, resisting the urge to just touch her, pull her in.

“i don’t know. i never did, and i’ll probably never know. but i do know, that you yn, have ignited something inside of me, and i don’t think it’ll ever stop burning.”

he room felt smaller, her heartbeat syncing with mine, the air electric and heavy and impossibly intimate.

her fingers loosened around the photo, letting it fall back onto the table, before she slowly looked up at me—eyes dark, unreadable, but soft at the edges.

“sunghoon.” she whispered. my name had never sounded sweeter.

she took a step forward, closing the gap between us. “do you mean it? this isn’t some sick joke?”

“of course i mean it.”

“then kiss me sunghoon.”

the space between us disappeared before either of us could think. my hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her in, and the second her lips met mine—i knew there was no going back.

the kiss wasn’t soft. it was desperate, hungry, full of every second i’d spent trying to resist her. my hands tangled into her hair, hers fisting the front of my shirt, pulling me closer, closer, until i could feel the way her chest pressed against mine, the way her lips parted for me so naturally like she was always meant to.

i pressed her against the closest wall, groaning against her lips, swallowing her little gasps and sighs.

as i pulled away, both panting for air, breath hot and heavy against each other, my hand instinctively clutched my camera, taking a picture of her.

breathless, lips swollen from my attack, perfect.

“mine.” i whispered, quickly forgetting about the camera and immediately pressing my lips against hers again.

[nom-nommmm1]

REAL MAN - EKKO

Masterlist + taglist

yk I had to do Ekko for my first Arcane fanfic

Dividers from the blog ➛ @thecutestgrotto

Real Man by beabadoobee

Content Warining !!: Just Ekko being the sweetest gentleman while on a night out with the reader, fem reader, pretend Ekko got his happy ending !!, kind of an alternate universe?? Idk I js wrote what I wanted tbh, also the firelights are still a thing but since there’s no need for rebellion Ekkos a sales man

The cool breeze blew in the night sky as I stepped outside with him following close behind. I shiver as the cold air hits my skin, goosebumps forming on my arms. Ekko walks closer to me, draping his jacket over my shoulders. Before I can even protest he speaks. “I knew you were going to need a jacket, don’t worry I’m plenty warm” he said, placing his hand on my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze as we continued to walk.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to get sick or something because of me” I ask, turning a bit to look at him. As I spoke he just smiled, shaking his head. “I promise it’s fine, don’t worry about me, my love” he says, his warm hand taking in mine to place it to his lips, kissing the knuckles. After a bit of walking, we make it to the bar, The Last Drop. Ekko opens the door for me, following after.

As we enter we are greeted by Vander and Silco. I smile, mouthing a nice greeting in return before sitting down at the nearest booth. Ekko sits in the booth across the table so we are facing each other. He hands me a menu. “You know, this place has changed a lot since Powder started helping out” he said browsing the menu.

I chuckle, looking up at him. “Yeah, it’s not like how it was when we were kids, crazy how times can change” I say, and he gives a knowing nod. “Crazy indeed, my love” he replies as Powder walks over, pulling out her pen and note pad. “What could I get started for you guys?” She asks with a polite but wild smile, you could tell just how passionate she was about this place ever since she started helping out.

She was the one who convinced Vander to keep it open because she knew how many memories this place had and even got her siblings to also help out, making this place not just a bar but also a food joint. I am snapped out of my thoughts when Ekko answers Powder. “A water for me and a lemonade for the lady” he says, looking back at me as Powder scribbles the drink orders down.

“You guys know whatcha want for food or should I give you a minute?” She asks, swiping a stray hair out of her face and behind her ear. “Just another minute please” I say, earning a smile from Powder. “Of course hon’” she says, walking away to the beverage dispensers. She tends to a few of her other tables before coming back to us with our drinks.

We then order our food, She scribbles it down. “It’ll be out shortly” she says with another smile before walking away to grab someone else’s order to take to their table. I look at Ekko to see he was already looking at me with a small smile.

“What?” I ask with a shy chuckle. He straightens up in his seat, realizing he’s been caught. “Nothing, I just think you’re really pretty is all” he mumbles, his cheeks a slight pink now. He begins to fidget with his ring, and I take his hand. “Thank you my love” I say with an appreciative look. He’s smile returns into one of a smirk, he’s thumb running over my knuckles.

Powder comes back with our drinks, placing them down and walking away again. I mutter a quick “thank you” and she replies with a head nod. After a few comfortable moments of silence I turn back to Ekko. “So, how’s firelight stuff been?” I ask, trying to make conversation. “Pretty good, y’know, sales and stuff” he says with a bored tone. “Yeah, I get that” I reply.

“Well, how’s work been for you babe?” He asks, more invested as he looks up at me and props his hand up for his jaw to rest on. I laugh at his antics. “It’s been well, a little drama at the salon but you know how it is” I say, looking at him, his eyes seem so sparkly in this moment almost like I’m seeing his eyes again for the first time.

I smile, looking over as Powder arrives with our food. “Here ya go” she says as she places the trays of food in front of us, Ekko and I mutter a thank you and she responds. “Ya welcome” she says before walking away.

I look down at my food and then back at Ekko, taking one of the forks in front of me in my hand. I slowly take a bite of my food, looking at Ekko as he does the same. I smile as his face lights up with joy as he continues to eat his food. “They sure know how to cook” I say, Ekko nodding in agreement

————————————

Once we are finished eating and have paid we walk back out into the cold but fresh air. I smile as I feel Ekko’s hands on my shoulders. “You need my jacket again or are you okay baby?” He asks, a light whisper in my ear. I turn my head to slightly look up at him before I reply. “I’m alright lovely” I say as he squeezes my shoulders one last time before letting go.

We start walking, I lightly lace my fingers with his as we walk. He chuckles as I do so but we continue our path. We make it to our home, the firelight tree. I smile a little bit I see everyone, even the children are outside. I then feel a wave of confusion wash over me as I approach them.

“Why are you all awake? Did something happen?” I ask a little scared. People motion of me to turn around and I gasp. Ekko was down on one knee. I cover my agape mouth with one hand, tears forming in my eyes as he looks at me. “No you’re not” I say in disbelief as he reaches out for my hand.

“Y/n, would you make me the happiest man and marry me?” He asks, gently squeezing hand. I smile, taking his hand in mine, a tear running down my cheek. “Yes!” I say after a few moments of silence, Ekko quickly puts the ring on my finger before standing up to give me a hug. “I’m so glad you said yes” he whispers in my ear.

I laugh, “What else would I have said?”

Hi bbs!! I’m back once again, but with my first arcane fic! Hope yous all enjoy and I am working on some Faust works! Love yous

[aezuria]

okay now we need those Percy hcs immediately

*ੈ✎ love grows (where my rosemary goes)

"there's something about her hand holding mine, it's a feeling that's fine and i just gotta say 'hey!'" —edison lighthouse

note: OKAY ANON GOT TO WORK AS SOON I SAW THIS 🫡 idk what happened im sorry this is kinda ass 😔😔

content: percy jackson x reader; dating hcs

warnings: cursing

this man is a menace

he's head over heels for you but also almost drowned you

he claims the wave "wasn't supposed to be that big" SIR??

that was like typhoon level shit right there

he just wanted to put you under a littleee bit so he could be your knight in shining armor and save you 🥺🥺

spoiler: you ended up saving yourself

(it's okay he made it up with lots of cuddles and kisses)

you were wading into the water, eager to join percy in the deep end, when suddenly, an unnatural wave crashes into your back and sends you falling into the deep end

you gasp too late and take a mouthful of salty seawater

with your arms flailing in the water, you swam to the surface and gulped for air

you wiped at your face, opening your eyes to see percy near you, but at a distance as if he was afraid of invoking your wrath

you narrowed your eyes at him, his skittish behavior obviously telling you that he was the culprit

"JACKSON!" you swam towards him at a frighteningly quick pace, leaving the poor boy scrambling away and screaming apologies

"IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A JOKE!"

anyway

he swings your hands while you walk

its so silly and he loves it

also a fan of running while your hands are interlocked

the first time was purely out of instinct, him grabbing your hand as a monster crashed behind you guys (because when can demigods catch a break?) and he started sprinting, dragging you along

likes skipping??? he's so weird

says it conserves energy and it's fun (he's not wrong but he forgot to mention the downside of looking like a dumbass)

imagine him skipping into battle

or better yet: "greeks! let's, um, fight stuff!" and they all skip menacingly

that was kinda off topic my bad

if you wear a ponytail he loves spinning it around like a helicopter

makes the little noises too

you feel a tug on your hair, already knowing who it is

"percy? what the hell are you doing?"

"helicopter."

back to almost drowning you, you got back at him by draining all the water in his cabin

to this day, he still doesn't know how you did it

all he knows is that after the sink wouldn't turn on, he knew exactly who it was

he was a man on a MISSION as he ran across the whole camp to catch you

"Y/N!"

"IT WAS THE STOLLS!"

"YOU FILTHY LIAR!"

your relationship is full of prank wars and all that good stuff

once it's over you settle down and cuddle on the shore

he laid out a picnic blanket for the two of you and you talked for hoursss into the night

the two of you were sleepy, heads resting on each other as a gentle breeze swept the salty air into your faces

percy was rambling on and on about you, but you were already half-asleep

"you're just so amazing and wonderful and i'm so grateful for you, you know? you're so fun to be with, and you're so beautiful.. y/n?" he looked down at you after your lack of response, finding your pretty eyes shut

he smiled down at you and pressed a kiss to your forehead

"goodnight."

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

Y'all, Freefall Gambit is so good 😩❤️‍🔥 Loved the return of Onychinus Sylus! He was aura farming so hard in this card, I had to restrain myself from audibly fangirling ijbol. I do feel like this card is sort of preparing us for the upcoming branch, where we'll most likely see alot more of this type of stuff and of this particular dynamic of SylusMC. Of being on opposing sides. Lots of angst and potential for drama, as well as self reflection and growth on especially MC's part.

My sole complaint is that Sylus isn't wearing the suit from the illustration ＿|￣|● I love his Onychinus fit as much as the next person but man... that suit... I will cry if they intend on forever gatekeeping it.

Because I want to avoid spoiling anyone that doesn't have the card yet, I've decided to write down some of my immediate thoughts below the cut.

Let's get the angsty predictions out of the way first – these lines set my alarm bells off. I feel like they are foreshadowing that something of Sylus' will indeed get taken or lost. Or rather someone. That someone ofc being MC, his most precious treasure.

I'll admit that these would not have alarmed me had it not been for certain lines in Sylus' birthday event and in Greedy Heart. I go into why exactly those lines make me uneasy in the linked post, and I just feel like the above ones further reinforces my theory. Call me paranoid or angst obsessed, but I predict pain for both SylusMC and for us in the main story, perhaps even in the coming branch.

On a similar note, just as how Sylus' vulnerability and fear (MC, and MC getting hurt or worse respectively) has been brought up more than once recently, so has MC's. Namely, that Sylus will get caught and put away, or become weak. We see these fears in Valleydream Bloom and in this card, as well as in Where Hearts Live. So things might be building up exactly to that.

I thought it was interesting how MC specifically mentions that the Association have Evol suppressing equipment. Which leads me to believe that said equipment could potentially be used against Sylus at some point to subdue him (provided of course that Sylus' powers are indeed Evol and not demonic/draconic based, but that is an eventual topic for another day). Idk but something tells me that Sylus will get captured whether willingly (most likely) or unwillingly. After all, we do see Sylus behind bars in the music video to Visions Opposées.

Could it be foreshadowing or just a neat visual? Only time will tell.

Me personally though, I am leaning towards the former, and I can see both MC's and Sylus' fears coming to fruition. Maybe even in a connected way (MC gets kidnapped and/or hurt and Sylus jumps in to save her but gets weakened or subdued in doing so, or Sylus gets captured by the Association, MC gets gravely injured trying to save him and maybe in the process triggers Sylus' dragon form and with it MC's memories? Boom. Several birds one stone. Helluva plotline imo)

What I still don't believe will come to pass however is either of them perma dying. This is an otome gacha. The main character nor LI can't die, especially not in a game as young and fresh as Love and Deepspace. So on that front I am not at all worried. Doesn't mean the angst we do get won't hurt a lot, though. But that being said, SylusMC will persevere in the end. Trust. Neither will let the other get torn away from them. Either will move heaven and earth to bring their lover back come what may.

Moving on...

I thought this was a nice callback to Sylus' anecdote

Here Sylus is revealed to actually be a sort of deepspace Robin Hood. We stan.

And the crowd cheered!!!

Also this is actually why Sylus jumped out of the plane. Man needed some cool and fresh air after this comment made all his blood flow south...

This makes me cackle 😭 bro is so unserious. And actually kind of insane, but again, we stan.

MC is living the dream. Do you know what I'd sacrifice to wrap my arms around that waist?? Happy for my girl though 💞 ( and for Sylus, you know that man is on cloud 9 here).

I adore that the card ends on a sweet and nostalgic note, with them gazing at the moon... like they used to in a distant past 💗

[meo-eiru]

meru, i always did like elias but he really really has been growing on me lately and i just have so much appreciation for the way you crafted his character like it is legit so beautiful😭💔

there was this advertisement that used to play on tv when i was a kid, and i can't really remember what it was for or abt tbh, but it had this man that lived on the moon and everytime you post elias content i kinda just remember it somehow.

there's this sort of isolated air around him, all he has is his self and his darling, and even then — it's not like he can always keep them around, no matter how hard he tries. so he's kinda left there, stuck with himself so to say. someone he doesn't love, and in turn, struggles to see how anyone else can love. in his head 24 hours a day, thinking how he can use the only trait he has to his advantage.

i can imagine all those things eat him up little by little, which is why he's volatile at the slightest indication his darling could be losing interest. their stopping him from hurting himself, somewhere is soothing, like a headpat, bc it feels like they're telling him they still care despite all odds.

how does one recieve love they feel like they don't deserve? in a way, he builds a bubble around himself bc of that w/o knowing and then there's just this surmounting distance he doesn't know how to lessen. so man on the moon, staring at earth through his telescope everyday, but failing to feel its warmth bc though he revolves around it and monoplises the fact that he belongs in its orbit, he makes no move to get closer. constantly trapped in the thought that he is stuck where he is, and that place is an undesirable home.

idk know where i'm going with all this and i rambled a lot so you can just ignore it actually ahaha all i really wanted to say was that you're amazing and elias deserves quality hand-holding time😩💕

I LOVE THIS ASK!!!

You captured Elias as a character so so well.

Elias truly is like a miracle. People who used to ask me stuff about him should remember, he basically didn't have any story. I don't know if it was just sheer force of will, or if it was thanks to you guys, but he developed so much within these past few weeks he existed.

I've never seen the ad you mentioned but based on what you said it fits him so well. A lonely man who was thrown out of the bubble due to his biggest blessing, and keeping himself there without realizing.

So lonely, so desperate, so self aware yet too far gone to fix any of it. Thirsty for your love yet thinks he doesn't deserve it causing him to always be on edge. So contradictory, so unstable.

A man who so desperately yearns for your love, to feel alive, to know he exists, to know someone is seeing him. He doesn't care what happens to him in the progress, he just needs you and your love.

[heavensenteden]

✎ submit.exe | nsfw fic 🔞

☆彡

hello to the 10 SeekL fans out there, i bestow a gift upon you… odxny esex fanfic!

someone shoot me please dear god.

anyways, i have some new works upcoming i promise! i’m working on another crowe, sol, and a 14dwy piece ;P so stick around for those <3

much love to those who read! you guys have been so sweet on my other works!!

okok, now you guys can read, mwah

also make sure you guys listen to swim by chase atlantic while reading this or sum sexy, idk. set the mood for yourself

link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62761168

word count: 3856

pls minors dni and dnr ⭐️

cw: e-sex (lol), fingering, stalking-ish, degrading, mututal masturbation

💻˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

It has only been a couple of days since you, or well, Thrim, landed yourself in a server full of skilled hackers, all looking to complete their… passion projects.

If you can even call them that.

In all honesty, it has been fun, learning new coding skills, getting made fun of, and, most of all, being able to talk to him. Odxny. The mystery man who wears a mask every time you call and talks about disappearing once it’s all over.

Today is no different. The server buzzes with activity as you scroll through endless lines of code, occasionally stopping to reply to a message from one of the other members.

You have already been working for hours prior to this, on your own little project, and of course, your mind is beginning to wander. Thankfully, your saving grace, Odxny, sends you a text.

odxny: busy right now?

thrim: for you? never <3

odxny: haha, could I call you then?

thrim: ofc ofc!

You shift at your desk, setting up your camera and smoothing your hair down so it doesn’t appear so messy. Then, the ring of a call comes through your headset, and as you put your earbuds in, you simultaneously click ‘accept.’

His face appears on the screen of your monitor. He is seated back in his chair, calm and unreadable as always, that mask of his only adding to the mystery as he grins at you. The soft glow of his server rack flickers in the background, the glow of his monitor bathing his covered face in a soft blue hue.

Despite calling him every single night since the day you joined the server, he looks just as pretty as the first time you saw him.

“Hey,” he says, his voice smooth and cool, as if he’s just casually checking in.

“Hey,” you reply, a bit too eagerly. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” he answers, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long. “Thought I’d see how you’re doing. Are you still helping Pep with codes, or are you taking a break?”

You lean back in your chair, trying to shake off the slight bit of heat just his stare alone causes. “Just the usual, I was helping him earlier, now I’m working on my own stuff. It’s been a long day though.”

“Mmm, I can tell.” His tone is almost too knowing. “You’ve been quiet within the server lately. Anything on your mind?” He leans forward slightly, his eyes focused on the screen in that way that makes you feel like he’s watching your every minor move.

You laugh nervously, not sure what to make of his sudden interest. “Just, uh, the usual. Lots of work, you know?”

He tilts his head, as if considering your words for a moment. “Mm, yeah. Sounds pretty boring. I figured you’d have something more exciting going on than that.” There’s a playful edge to his voice now, and you can’t help but feel your pulse quicken.

You try to keep it casual, teasing him back. “What, you want me to do something exciting for you?”

There’s a pause, and you watch as he takes a breath, as if he is considering his next words carefully. “Well, it depends. What are you into? I’m sure we could find something… fun to talk about.”

Your heart skips a beat at the sudden shift in his tone, and you feel your cheeks heat up.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way his words seem to linger in the air. “Uh, what kind of… fun are we talking about?” you ask, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

He grins behind that mask, leaning back in his chair. “Well, you know… I’m just curious what kind of ‘exciting’ things you’re into. I’ve known you for a couple of days and barely know anything… personal about you. Everyone’s got their little… preferences, right?” His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, his tone smooth and casual.

You shift in your seat, suddenly aware of how close he seems to feel, even through the screen. “Preferences?” you parrot back, forcing a casual laugh, though your voice betrays you with a slight tremor.

“Mhm,” Odxny hums, his fingers absentmindedly tapping on his desk, the rhythm slow and steady. “Do you enjoy being in control of people, or… would you rather someone take the lead?” He says it so casually, as if it’s just a simple question, but the weight of his words makes your stomach flip.

Your breath catches in your throat, unsure if you should answer his rather direct question or just change the subject. But you can’t help it, there’s something about him that pulls you deeper into the conversation. “I… I don’t know. I guess I like both,” you admit, your voice betraying you once again as it hitches slightly.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Both, huh? Interesting… but which one do you think you’d really enjoy more?” There’s some curiosity in his tone, and an almost playful lilt that sends shivers down your spine.

You can feel your cheeks burning now, and you know your voice will give you away if you try to brush it off. “I don’t… I don’t know what you mean,” you stammer, though you really do know the answer, you just don’t want to admit it to him.

His smile widens, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Sure you don’t. It’s okay to admit things, you know. I won’t bite… unless you ask me to.” He leans in a little closer, and suddenly, his presence, despite being on a video call, feels overwhelming.

“So, tell me… when it comes down to it, do you like it rough? Or are you more of a… slow and passionate kind of person?”

Your body freezes. The question hangs in the air like a dare.

Your heart hammers in your chest, and it feels like your entire body is on fire.

You clear your throat, trying to force yourself to focus and answer the damn question, but it’s hard when Odxny’s calm demeanor makes everything feel like a simple game, and you’re not sure if you want to keep playing… or if you want him to take control.

"I… I’m not sure," you stammer, your voice shaky. “I guess… both, depending on the mood.”

His eyes narrow slightly through his little fox mask as he watches you struggle to find the right words.

"Mm, interesting."

He leans even closer to the screen, his eyes scanning you up and down in an almost predatory way.

"You know, I’ve been wondering… do you ever think about what it would feel like? To let someone really take control? I mean, you let us push you around sometimes, making you help us with hacks, and Incri likes to poke fun at you when they can…"

Odxny pauses, a grin growing on his face.

"I’d even be so confident to say maybe you like it—the way we push you around and make fun at times."

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch him.

He’s not wrong.

But you’d die before admitting that.

"Y-Yeah, as if…"

His voice drops lower, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I’d be fine if you’re into that. But can you imagine how it would feel? Giving yourself up to someone, trusting them to make you feel… good. But you’d have to trust that someone completely, don’t you think?"

You blink, caught off guard by how serious he’s gotten.

"Trust?" you echo, trying to deflect.

Did you trust Odxny? You’d only known him a few days but he had been somewhat welcoming, and a bit of a delight to talk to at night, so much so that you found yourself actually looking forward to your nightly calls.

He nods slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah. Because without trust, there’s no real connection. No... control.” His words hang in the air.

Your pulse quickens, your heart racing. “I guess I could trust... the right person.”

“The right person, huh?” He pauses, letting his words stretch out. “Tell me, do you think you could trust me?”

Your breath catches, and it’s as if the whole world tilts on its very axis. You want to look away, but you can’t. Something about the way he’s looking at you, so sure, so confident, pulls at you. He doesn’t give you a chance to reply before speaking again.

“What if I told you,” Odxny continues, his voice lower now, “that I could give you what you’re craving... but you’d have to let go of all control. All of it. Let me show you exactly how I could make you feel...”

A wave of heat ripples through your body, your mind becoming a mix of confusion, excitement, and… lust. You open your mouth to speak, but the words get caught in your throat. It’s too much, and yet... somehow it’s exactly what you need.

After days of flirting back and forth in the admin chat it was only a matter of time before something like this would happen right? You just didn’t think it would occur so soon.

“I... I don’t know if I can...” Your voice is barely a whisper, but the admission is enough to make Odxny smile.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he murmurs. “Just listen to me... do as I say and I’ll make you feel good.” He’s almost whispering now.

You feel your breath quicken, the weight of his gaze making you feel exposed in ways you never expected. The line between teasing and something much, much more is blurring fast for you, so fast it’s making your head spin.

“Go on,” he says, his voice low, as though he’s savoring the effect his words are having on you. “Be a good girl for me and unzip that hoodie, yeah?”

Your body freezes for a split second, something in your mind wants to pull away, to regain some sense of control from this moment, but a rush of excitement zips through your entire body instead. The sheer idea of being completely at his mercy, even through a video call, sends a shiver through your spine.

Your hand trembles as you unzip the sweater you had on, the oversized piece of clothing falling off your shoulders to expose smooth, unblemished skin. Underneath you had only been wearing a simple black tank top and black shorts, but despite it being casual wear, you hear Odxny draw in a sharp breath.

Odxny’s grin widens, satisfaction evident in his eyes as he leans back, letting you undress for him. “Good,” he murmurs, “I want you to stop thinking for yourself, stop trying to control everything. Let go, and let me show you just how good it can feel when you just listen to me, okay?”

His words are smooth, calculated almost, you feel like he’s reading every twitch of your body as if you were an open book, you’re teetering on the edge, and you know there’s no turning back now.

His eyes trail down, pausing to linger on what little clothing you had on as you press your thighs together, and for a second, a knowing look crosses his face. “You can feel that, don’t you? You’re getting so hot for me, aren’t you?” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but it sent a shiver through you. “I can see it in your eyes. You want this.”

You’re so caught up in the way his words have taken hold of you that you barely realize your hands are moving to push your shorts down, and off your body, the piece of fabric being tossed to some dark corner of the room as you sat in your chair, tank top on and underwear on, being watched by the hacker.

His eyes immediately flick back to your face after lingering for a moment too long on your underwear, his eyes were dark with desire, and a low chuckle escaped his lips. “That’s my girl,” he says, voice thick with approval. “You look fucking gorgeous. Now… show me how you touch yourself.”

The command sends a jolt straight through your core. You hesitate only for a moment, before your fingers instinctively twitch, the heat between your thighs growing unbearable under his intense gaze.

Odxny doesn’t rush you. He doesn’t need to. The way he watches, silent, patient, completely in control, has your breath hitching in anticipation. His voice comes through the headset, low and teasing. “Don’t be shy now. I’ve seen the way you react to my teasing. I know exactly what you want.”

Your fingers graze over the waistband of your underwear, you swallow hard, your body burning under his attention. He hums approvingly, his grin widening behind his mask. “That’s it… nice and slow. Let yourself feel it.”

You try to relax your body, spreading your thighs for him, your nimble fingers rubbing slow, lazy circles against yourself through the damp fabric. Your breaths come out in soft, shaky exhales, the warmth spreading through you becoming almost unbearable—made even worse by the way Odxny watches.

His breathing is slightly heavier now, just a fraction off his usual composed self. The flickering lights from his server rack cast a dim glow against his silhouette, making the blue of his screen reflect off the edges of his fox mask.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into something darker, deeper. “You’re so pretty like this. Completely at my mercy, yeah? Just listening, just following… you’re being such a good girl for me.”

The praise twists hot in your stomach, your fingers pressing harder, your body aching for more. You can’t stop the way your hips stutter, how your thighs tremble just from the sound of his voice.

“Take them off.”

You jerk, pleasure overtaking hesitation, sitting up just enough to push the remaining fabric off your body. The cool air kisses your skin as your underwear is discarded, leaving your lower half completely exposed for him, your fingers dipping back into your soaked pussy, rubbing circles gently, slowly.

For a second, there’s silence.

Then, you hear the faintest shift from his side of the call.

A sharp inhale.

A low, rough exhale, one he tries to control.

Your stomach tightens. Naughty boy.

“Such a quick learner,” he purrs, voice full of satisfaction. His eyes drag over your body, drinking in every inch of bared skin, every little tremor you make under his gaze. “I should’ve had you doing this nights ago.”

The way he says it has you spiraling, every teasing word winding that coil inside you tighter, tighter, until it’s nearly unbearable.

Then, your screen flickers.

It’s a brief static glitch. Quick. Barely noticeable.

But your mind, already hazy, already pliant under his control, almost doesn’t catch it.

Then his voice comes back, smooth, unbothered.

“You really do trust me, don’t you?”

Your breath catches.

Something about the way he says it… it feels wrong.

Another flicker. Just a second. But this time, you see it.

Something in your video feed, something behind him.

In the reflection of a mirror behind him.

It’s your own screen.

For a split second, the distorted pixels snap into clarity.

And staring back at you from behind Odxny’s shoulder is your own reflection, not from this call, but from another angle. An angle that shouldn’t exist.

Your bedroom.

Your desk.

The way you move in real time.

Your camera feed.

It’s not just this call.

He’s been watching you the whole time.

Your blood runs cold even as your body is still warm, still burning from the pleasure he’s drawn out of you. Your stomach tightens, the realization hitting you too late.

He’s seen everything.

Every moment. Every little touch. Every time you change. Every time you sat at your desk and talked to him like this was just harmless flirting.

And now, the look in his eyes, that fucking knowing look, tells you he’s reveling in your realization.

The call screen steadies again, your video going back to normal. Odxny doesn’t react to the glitch. He just exhales slowly, tilting his head like he’s studying you.

And then, the soft sound of fabric shifting. The movement of his arm.

Your breath catches.

Oh.

Oh.

He’s touching himself too.

It’s subtle at first, like he’s still playing it cool, but now you know better. The rise and fall of his chest, the way his breaths have turned slow, measured, almost too controlled.

His hand is moving.

You can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but you know.

And he knows you know.

His voice is low when he speaks again, raspier, rougher.

“You’re so good for me,” he murmurs. “So fucking sweet. Letting me watch you like this.”

A pause.

And then, a smirk.

“…Letting me watch you for days.”

Your heart stops.

Before you can even process what that means, his voice drops lower, a teasing edge lacing every word.

“Come on, baby. Don’t stop now.”

His hand is still moving. Slow. Steady.

"You’re already mine."

You listen, of course. How could you not? His voice wraps around you like a vice, sinking deep into your bones, leaving no room for anything else. Your fingers slip back between your thighs, gliding effortlessly through the slickness pooling there, the wetness a humiliatingly clear sign of his hold on you.

And he sees it all. Every little reaction. Every twitch of your body.

Your fingers move, slow, shallow thrusts at first, easing yourself open under his gaze. You let out a quiet gasp, your thighs shaking.

Odxny’s chuckle hums through the headset. "Did you think I wouldn’t know?"

You pause for half a second, blinking at your webcam through the haze of pleasure.

"Did you think I wasn’t paying attention?" His voice dips into something lower, rougher. "Every time you touched yourself when I wasn’t around?"

Your breath hitches.

He laughs again, so smug, so infuriatingly pleased with himself, and it makes you squirm even more. "Oh, sweetheart. You think I don’t notice the way your breathing changes when we’re on call? The way your hands go out of frame sometimes? Or how about when you ‘need to go do some important stuff’ and you hang up on me just to go play with yourself.”

Your stomach tightens at his words.

Every single time you thought you were sneaky, every time you let yourself sink into filthy thoughts about him, he was watching.

"I know exactly what you do when you think I’m not paying attention, or when we’re not on call together," he purrs, eyes dark with amusement and something much filthier. "And look at you now, so obedient. You were always meant to be mine, weren’t you?"

His hand is still moving.

You can hear it now, so faint, but unmistakable. The shift of fabric, the slow, measured strokes.

He’s matching your pace. How romantic.

Your fingers pump deeper, curling inside of you, teasing that sensitive spot that has your body jerking just slightly, because you want to perform for him now. You want him to see how much you’ve fallen for him, how deep he’s dug his claws into you.

He exhales sharply through his nose, amused, ravenous. "That’s it, sweet girl. That’s exactly what I like."

The realization sinks deeper.

This was never just about control.

Odxny has been playing this game since the beginning.

Since that very first call. Since the first time you stumbled into his space, into his world.

A knowing smile tugs at his lips, his fingers tightening around himself, his movements just slightly rougher now. He’s close, too.

"Since that first call... I knew you’d be mine."

Your breath catches, fingers pumping faster as you whimper into your headset.

"You’re so perfect for me, baby," he continues, voice dipping into something possessive, intoxicating. "Just the way I like it. So sweet, so eager for me, so easy to break down."

His tempo speeds up, his breathing uneven through the mic.

"You’ll be mine, won’t you?" His voice is demanding now. "You’ll keep coming back for more, won’t you? I know you can’t resist. I can see it in your pretty little eyes how badly you want to be mine."

You don’t hesitate. You nod, desperate, lost in him. You want to be his.

The words tumble out of your mouth before you can even think.

"Yes... I’m yours."

It feels right. It feels inevitable.

Like it’s always been this way.

Like you were made for this.

His chuckle vibrates through the call, smug and victorious.

"Good girl."

His voice is so full of praise, of approval, but to you it’s more than that.

It’s his claim on you

"That’s what I wanted to hear. Now cum for me my sweet girl, show me how good I’m making you feel.”

Your body reacts before your mind can catch up. Your fingers move faster, slick and needy, your breathing turning ragged as the pleasure coils so, so tightly inside you. You can hear everything, his breaths, low and uneven, the faint, sinful rhythm of him stroking his cock as he chases his own release.

"That’s it," he murmurs, watching you fall apart. "Just like that. You’re so fucking perfect for me."

His voice alone sends you tipping over the edge.

Pleasure bursts through you, hot and overwhelming, your body tensing for a few seconds before unraveling completely. A cry rips from your throat as your fingers stutter, your back arching against the chair slightly, your thighs trembling as the release crashes through you in waves.

Odxny groans, a deep, guttural sound that shoots straight through you.

You barely register the way his body tenses, the way his hand jerks rougher, faster, as if the sight of you completely undone has wrecked him too.

"Fuck—"

The sound of him coming apart is obscene. A harsh breath, a low, satisfied growl of your name. You don’t have to see it to feel it, how he must look right now, his body shuddering, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths, his hand covered in his own cum.

For a moment after, there was only silence, save for the shared sound of heavy, ragged breathing.

Your body is still buzzing, pulsing with the aftermath, your skin flushed, your heart pounding. You barely remember where you are. All you can think about is him.

Then a soft amused chuckle pulls you back.

"You’re such a good girl for me, you know that?"

The praise still makes your stomach twist, even now, when your body is already spent. You swallow, trying to even out your breathing, your mind clouded, hazy.

Then, his voice shifts, just slightly, a lower and more gentle tone.

"I meant what I said, baby."

You blink. Your heart skips.

"You’re mine now."

It’s not a question, but a declaration of sorts.

From the moment you joined the server, from the second you answered his first call, from the first time he looked at you like this.

You’ve always been his.

And now, you both knew it.

💻˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

[the-anime-enthusiast]

pls shoto / hawks type of women

MHA CHARACTERS TYPE IN WOMEN

#2 Keigo Takami - Hawks

KEIGO TAKAMI - PHYSICAL

He likes his women a lil shorter 😌🫶 Like 5'2 - 5-6 buuutt will GLADLY take on a model height baddie ANY DAY OF THE WEEK "what's the point of wings if I can't use them to fly up and kiss you??" 🤧

AN ABSOLUTE ASS MAN he loves the legs, the butt, all of it and in between but besides be a total tweaker for a nice ass he has a special place in his heart for boobs 🫶 specifically b-c cups though 🌚 he doesn't know why but he likes a smaller size 😉

Siren eyes are his ULTIMATE WEAKNESS something about someone who looks so intense and like they're about to eat him alive bc hes so fucking annoying GETS BRO GOING 🤩 He can tease you all day any day but if you act like he's just another guy to you HE WILL CHASE YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE DAMN EARTH ‼️‼️

Sucker for dimples 😌 Loves to see some chubby cheeks with the cutest dimples 🫡 AND SMILE LINES OMFGGG 😍😍😍🙏🙏🙏 he doesn't even know what it is about them but it makes his heart SKIP A BEAT

He LUVS a sun kissed skin look 🌞 like a slightly tanned face with some redness left over from a sunburn, freckles starting to pop up everywhere HE LOVES IT 💥💥💥

Short and stout or tall and skinny he loves it all 🫡🫡🫡 Bro is NOT PICKY 😭 As long as ur face cute hell love you until hell freezes OVVVERRR BRO 🌚🌚🌚

KEIGO TAKAMI - MENTAL

Literally just someone he can vibe with 🙂‍↕️ If you match energy he will worship you like THE AIR HE BREATHES 😍 Just someone laid back and chill but also can have a fub time and a positive outlook on the future "pessimists are my worst enemy" was once scratched from an interview 🌚

While he loves an optimist and like minded folk realism is the most important thing he could ask for -- Someone who understands his job and the things he has to do 💯 (this stems a lot from the twice incident which i will touch on at the end of this)

Can we all admit he's fs got mommy issues ✋ he would die for a lady who will hold him in her arms at the end of the day and just let him exist in the peace and quiet of his home with her 🙂‍↔️

SMART WOMEN 😍 he loves someone smart, youre working to get ur PhD? SMASH‼️ A teacher ?? SMASH‼️ Literally any job or skill that requires emotional strength and a BIG BRAIN and he's weak in the knees 🤭

KEIGO TAKAMI - RANDOM

Blissfully unaware people who will lounge in bed all day reading a magazine then running up to him as he gets home from work peppering him will kisses is like a very specific want of his - 😭 bro just wants someone to love him fr ✊😔

Has a weird thing for teachers -💀 Anytime a girl is like "Oh yeah I never told you? I'm a Pre-K teacher!' his eye twitches and he feels like he's going insane 😶‍🌫️ (in the best way possible)

You're the only person he's ever told this or would let do this to him - but give him back scratches at the base of his wings AND HE EVAPORATES 🫠🫠

NERDS 💯💯💯 A secret fangirl???? He's never living it down. EVER. He'll bring you home limited edition, u released, ect ect merch for, not only him, but ALL THE TOP HEROES bc he gets first dibs from being so high in the charts 😌

Going of off nerds again, IF YOU CORRECT HIM ON SOMETHING (literally anything...it's concerning) HE GETS SOOO HOT AND BOTHERED he's never been able to figure out why but being out in his place by someone so intellectually advance does something to him 🧍‍♀️

THATS THE POST!! (but here's some end credits and comments rq 😉)

About the twice situation, although he recognizes what he did was wrong, he doesn't regret it, because it truly changed the tide and outcome of the war, and he needs someone who sees that and defends him whole heartedly ✋

ANYWAYS I HAD SO MUCH FUN DOING THIS REQUEST ‼️ I've never been a huge fan of hawks so it was SO much fun coming up with stuff and diving more into his character ‼️‼️ I hope y'all enjoy 😉

also...idk if y'all can tell... but I NEED HIM AND FUYUMI TO BECOME A THING PLEASE HORIKOSHI ID GIVE YOU MY LIFE (the head cannons have nothing to do with that shit it's all separate it just happens to line up VERY well) 😍

BYYEEEE THANKYOU ‼️

[centrally-unplanned]

Alright, last Current Events Drama post, is not a super valuable activity after all. I have seen a lot of Discourse that goes like "I may oppose these efforts but man the PR strategy of this Musk thing is pretty genius, they have a whole generation of people thinking USAID was funding the Liberal Media now". And they certainly aren't without agency, I agree there is an intentional PR strategy going on. In particular it is not just the creation of narrative, but the creation of momentum - every day is a new discovery, a new victory, a sense of progress.

But this isn't really that hard when your supporters are just really stupid? Like you can make shit up for these people! They don't care, they don't have that instinct that goes "okay hold up I'm going to need to see some sources here". The current Admin didn't make that happen, that is a deep, structural change around the internet flattening hierarchies and all that shit. When you know your audience wants results and also you can just invent results out of thin air then, idk, is this that hard? How could you not deliver that?

It is funny because the actual playbook here isn't even their invention, it is the same as the 2010's "Woke Boom". That entire model was that deep, slow, technical solutions to structural inequalities achieved via grinding electoral politics is boring. That shit is for fucking losers. I am not gonna have a role in that all! So instead we will achieve social change via randomly harassing my progressive coworkers for their black comedy tweets about AIDS until they get fired and have a nervous breakdown. Obviously - just like with the current right, don't be tricked! - there was another side of this movement that was much more serious, a huge side actually (we are just focusing right now). But for so many that serious side was window dressing, the real mush was that you got to feel like you were a part of something, doing something, and at a certain point they started running the show. This playbook being reversed really isn't that impressive (and also, in a sense, inevitable)

I will give the Social Justice aggros though that they had some standards - passing around photoshopped tweets was uncommon. Most of them did actually believe in this model for change (and so invented insane ideologies to justify it, but w/e). That isn't really as true on the right - I should partially walk back my statement above, a lot of these people aren't that gullible? They are just apathetic. So many people retweeting stuff about how The Deep State funnels millions to Politico don't really even care, for them it is a game. It is funny to own the libs. They laugh off your attempts at calling them out for accuracy - you care about that? What a cuck you are.

Which makes it particularly sad when you see the earnest ones, the ones writing essays about the implications of what USAID propping up the New York Times means for our political future. Nothing worse than being a true believer in a church where not only the leaders but also your fellow congregants know it is bullshit.

It reminds me of the Gamestop Meme Stock Crash and its slow, agonizing burn (a not unrelated event!). A bunch of people on the rise of the stock created the idea that buying Gamestop could Stick It To The Man, you could short squeeze the hedge funds, diamond-hands-hold that yield, bring Wall St to its knees - to the moon, baby. And some people bought it! And then the wheel turned, the crash happened, and most of the people posting those memes sold their stock and dipped so fast they had disappeared from the subreddits before they could even begin to say "bro, you thought I was serious?". Leaving a stalwart few holding the bag, spinning epicycles of conspiracy theories to justify why they had it to begin with. Which happens on autopilot a this point. You don't really need any PR strategy to make this happen.