#this seems like a half assed explanation but it’s interesting

[starlight-vee]

TW: Body checking, insecurity

Yea I love chubby Alejandro you guys!!!

(He is not okay)

[pennjammin]

run, rabbit, run

JJK HALLOWEEN! nanamixreader

summary ❥ you babysit for the wealthy single dad who lives across the street. it’s the end of october and his halloween party is the talk of the neighborhood. you’re not invited because the kids are out of town, but you decide to pop up on him anyway, and he shows you just how badly he’s been dying to get you alone without the children.

CONTENT: age gap, 86’d sorcery, dilf!nanami, toys, smut, alcohol, dom!nanami, cunnilingus, afab!reader, fluff, friends to lovers kinda, bossxworker, aftercare, slowwwww burn, reader wears animal ears during sex, breeding kink, spit kink, masochism.

word count. 10k

soundtrack 💿: eating - madeintyo

p.s. there’s a joke in here involving the color of 🐱; i know everyone’s is not the same color so , fill in the blank for the color that fits yours if u have one LOL

✩

You give your ass a good shake.

You’re making sure the long, fluffy tail poking out of your blue shorts isn’t going to fall out. It doesn’t.

You’re dressed as a fox, but not just any fox. A fox cop. You have on a short blue collared top, matching shorts, and of course you’d be no real cop without your utility belt housing fake handcuffs and a plastic baton. To top it all off, you’re wearing fuzzy fox ears on your head, and sheer tights to cover your legs.

You nod in the mirror, satisfied. But the real test, to you, is if Mr. Nanami will like it just as much.

Mr. Nanami is your employer, but more importantly, your neighbor. You watch his two young children five days a week; sometimes even overnight when he has a particularly busy work day. You consider yourself close with them, but your feelings about Nanami are a little deeper than that.

You’d seen him the first time a little under a year ago, when he’d been out on an early morning jog. From then, on you’d become disgustingly obsessed ever since.

Your schoolgirl pining only gets worse every time you see him, and recently you've even gone as far as trying to shamelessly flirt - but he seems to have absolutely no idea. That is the less painful explanation, the other being that he’s just not interested.

But you’re planning to see if you can get that to change tonight. You always dress sensible in front of his children; this will be the first time he's seeing so much skin. It has to work, right?

Tonight, Nanami is throwing the party of the century. He has house workers of all kinds who serve towers of food and delicious mixed drinks. The cherry is that his entire gated lawn has been decorated to the perimeter of fun inflatables and spooky decorations. You know it's mostly for his kids, whom he goes nothing short of above and beyond for.

However, he had informed you days ago that they would be out of town this weekend - and, even if they were not, he's off work, so he doesn’t need you. This means he also had not invited you to his party.

You clearly still intend to show up unannounced, a bold move on your part.

You lock up your house - a small, co-owned property that truly looks out of place across from Nanami's home - which he technically pays the rent for. You carefully make your away across the overcrowded street full of cars, decorations, and humans who are already half past drunk.

As you walk up the stone steps that lead to his front door, your stomach is keyed up. You shouldn't feel any different than you normally do when coming over for work, but you’ve really let this highly unprofessional crush of yours get out of control.

You make it to the porch. You're unsure if he will even hear the doorbell, but you press it anyway. The door slides open after about ten seconds, as if he has been standing there watching it. You feel your body freeze immediately upon seeing him.

Nanami is towering over you in the threshold. His face lights up almost instantly, but that's not all that has your heart threatening to crack open your rib cage; it's also his delicious white button down, popped open by a few to reveal tiny bits of blond chest hair, and then of course there are the long, white ears on top of his head.

“Why hello, officer, did we get a noise complaint?” He chuckles at his own dad joke before bowing his head in greeting. “Sorry, I’m just surprised to see you. I figured you would be thrilled to not have to look at these four walls for a few days while my children are with... their mother.”

You watch his face drop in disgust at the mention of his ex-wife, but he’s never said anything bad about her. Whenever you’d asked why things hadn’t worked out, he’d said "they just didn't." And that was that, but part of you aches to know what had happened.

It shouldn’t matter. He is not interested in you. He gives you a paycheck, and that is all.

"Well," you begin carefully, "Who would want to miss out on the most exclusive Halloween party of the year?"

This coerces a deep laugh out of Nanami, then he steps aside and allows you to walk in. He is holding a short rocks glass of unidentified brown liquor, and you can smell whatever it is in a cloud around him.

Once inside, Nanami’s voice is quite muffled from the clank of dishes and bustle of workers. The two of you stop to stand in the foyer, a grand crystal chandelier winking at you from above.

"Exclusive isn't the word I'd use," he says, following your eyes as he takes a sip. "Everyone and their mother is here. Literally." He tilts his glass towards an elderly woman who stands next to a redhead about Nanami's age.

You should be laughing at his joke but instead, your stomach knots grow tighter at the reminder of how many people his age are here preying on him, the neighborhood catch, with careers and homes of their own.

Nanami is seven years your senior, you think. No wonder he wants nothing to do with a young, non career-oriented thing like you when he has all of these sophisticated people crawling at his feet.

You can't think about that now, or the courage you’ve spent a week building will cease to exist.

"Heh - well, either way," you continue, "it's a big party. I know the kids aren't here, but-"

"But I'm glad you are," Nanami smiles, his eyelids hanging a little low from the liquor in his system. "You look very nice, darling. I like your ears."

He grins and points to his own headband. A grown and very, very large man dressed as something as vulnerable as a little rabbit has your nerves aflame.

"Hmm, I bet you do," you tease. “Like it so much you had to copy me?”

Nanami makes a disapproving sound with his tongue, leaning forward a bit to be eye level with you. "Copy you? I was unaware that rabbits and foxes were the same animal. In fact," he adds, "if I'm not mistaken, foxes are a rabbit's natural predator."

You had been trying to look away from him now that he has moved so close, but as the last sentence rolls out of his mouth, you make the mistake of looking directly into his eyes - and what you see makes your limbs jelly. Maybe it's your delusions, but he seems to be drinking you up equally as much as he is his liquor.

You laugh to pop the bubble of tension, but Nanami's face remains as still as ice.

"Well, I certainly don't think I pose a threat to you, sir," you say, voice unnervingly dry. "You are twice my size."

At this, his intense stare transitions into a soft smile. "You just have to get my guard down. Then, I'm sure a little thing like yourself would be able to have your way with me."

You blink quickly, assuming you've misheard him. Then again, though, he tends to say things that could be flirty - but he is just a naturally charismatic man. Means nothing.

"Ah," you mumble out, shifting your weight from side to side. You have to find a way to change the subject, but most importantly, you need get his attention off of you. You’d wanted it so bad, now you don’t know how to handle it. As you scheme, he sips his drink again, eyes still watching you over the rim of the glass.

"So... the kids always go with their mom on Halloween?" you ask abruptly.

Nanami quickly swallows his sip before shaking his head. "Well I had them for the Fourth of July, you recall."

You do recall. A little too well. Nanami in nothing but tight, black swim shorts and his signature sunglasses as he flipped meat over the grill - and you playing in his pool with the kids. He’d invited you to celebrate the holiday with him after his kids had begged, but your mind was definitely elsewhere. The memory popping into your head almost makes you not hear what he says next.

"We alternate holidays. So I will have them for Thanksgiving, she for Christmas," he shrugs a shoulder. "I would have traded Thanksgiving for Christmas, but alas. Christmas is always the busiest day of the year for me, so they would just miss out on time with their father anyway. I couldn't ask you to ditch your holiday plans for us, again, either."

He sighs. You feel your heart ache; he cares deeply about his kids, but he is definitely a workaholic. That is why you spend every chance you get at his house… well, that’s mostly why. But even then, you sometimes wish you stayed more to help, because Nanami works tireless double shifts, then spends his off days trying to make up for lost time with the kids.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," you say, attempting to comfort him. "You're an amazing father who is doing all he can. They love you so much."

He smiles and bows his head politely, so as to say thank you. "They love you as well. Sometimes, I think more than they do their mother."

You swallow a choke, before rutting out, “Surely not."

Before Nanami has the chance to reply, an older woman who you’d come to known as Agnes walks by with a large tray arraignment of bright green cocktails.

“Nanamin!” she shrieks out. “Where would you like me to put these? Very afraid of them falling. There’s drunkards crawling up the walls! I’ve already swept up sixteen broken glasses! Sixteen!”

You and Nanami turn to look at her with an equally astonished expression.

Nanami leans forward a bit to whisper in your ear, “My apologies in advance for her erratic behavior.”

Agnes is still staring wildly between the two of you as you giggle, awaiting further instructions from Nanami.

“Sit them wherever you think is safest,” he says calmly.

She huffs but ultimately takes his word, speeding off with her kitten heels clacking against the marble floor.

Nanami turns back to you and opens his mouth, but another voice cuts him off.

“Nanami, sir!”

You feel a twinge of irritation in your chest, but you really shouldn’t. He is the host and people need his attention. You should have seen this coming.

“Is everything okay?” he questions politely, turning to face the short brunette in front of him, who bats her eyelashes.

“I… I think that someone is fighting outside,” she says quickly, unable to keep eye contact.

Nanami is a smart man, though. “Oh? Well, what shall we do about that?”

“I thought you could run and stop them,” she says, twisting a piece of her hair around her finger, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m in no mood to be in the middle of a brawl,” he says sternly. “Have the butlers stop it, and remove them. You try not to get involved either.”

She huffs and spins on her heel, walking back through the living room with an angry stomp in her step.

Nanami clicks his tongue, “I really need to have her counseled in compulsive lying. She cries wolf so many times a day.”

You’ve never seen her before, she must be new. This makes you jealous all over again. She’s not quite as old as the rest of the workers, but still older than you. The issue is you see yourself in her, the uncontrollable pining over your shared boss. She just makes hers much more obvious.

Nanami clears his throat, and you notice too late how his hand has slithered to the small of your back.

“Perhaps we should escape somewhere more secluded, hm?” he says. “I really am enjoying our conversation. A shame we keep getting interrupted.”

You swallow thickly. The hair on your spine has raised at his sudden contact, making you shiver.

“Yes, that’s a good idea, sir,” you say, trying to hide how dry your voice has gotten.

Not another word is uttered before Nanami is swiftly whisking you off to another room; his hands now free of his drink and instead gently guiding you by his hand placement.

His gaze is not as focused on you as it is leading you both through the overwhelming crowd of people, and to the hall under the stairs that you know for a fact leads to his workspace. He moves his hands into yours as he gently pushes you ahead of him.

You take the lead and find yourself pushing open the big door to his study. Inside is a complete reflection of Nanami, his wealth and his cleanliness. Even his desk is free of papers, or any indication at all that he works in here.

You recall the days he works from home, in this very study, and he'd still be in his work suit, just minus the blazer. You'd let the kids sneak in on him, only once or twice thoughout the day, just to see his smile; and while you’re already there, you'd drop off a cup of hot coffee to help him plow through the rest of his shift.

He shuts the doors behind you both as you run to make yourself comfortable in his desk chair, spinning around like a child.

As you do so, you fail to see or hear his fingers slyly clicking the lock on the door.

“Much better,” Nanami breathes, moving to flick on a floor lamp in the corner, giving the study a soft, warm glow accompanied by the full Halloween moon. “Now, what were we discussing?”

“You, uh,” you clear your throat as you stop spinning in the chair to face him. “You really didn’t have to come in here just to talk to me. You are the man of the evening, you know.”

Nanami rolls his eyes, an out-of-character action you never thought you'd see, but one that looked so tasty, so sultry. God, you’re a pervert in heat - and your sweet, sweet boss is completely oblivious to the kind of horrible thoughts you have daily about him.

Nanami's now staring at you. His mouth is moving, but you have no idea what he had been saying.

"… to spend time with all of those shallow, insolent creatures,” you register, “when I have someone like you here?" He walks over to the desk and leans against it, right next to you now, as he crosses his arms over his massive chest. "We have never just sat down and talked. We always have little people depending on us or wanting our attention. Tonight, I’d like that to change.”

You let his words simmer for a moment. “What is it you’d like to talk about, Mr. Nanami?” you then question.

“What did I tell you about that ‘Mr.’ nonsense?” He frowns. “That makes me feel so old.”

"Sorry, sir," you gulp, not intending to upset him. You just can't help the way 'Mr.' and 'Sir' roll off your tongue, or how bad you enjoy seeing him shift uncomfortably at the use of the names.

"Meanie," he tuts, knocking you playfully with his leg. Another uncharacteristic action.

"What'd I do?" you blink, tilting your head as you look up at him.

"You mean besides drive me insane with your teasing?" he questions, before his eyes widen and he looks as though he's just spilled a secret. "I- wow, I am sorry. That is not what I meant to say."

"I drive you insane?" you echo. "I didn't even think you noticed my… teasing.”

Nanami's face is neutral, but his jaw is working under his skin. "I’m not naive, little fox." He lets out a breath. “This was truly an excellent costume choice.”

He leans forward and flicks the furry ear on your head.

“Thank you,” you smile. “I can’t say the same for yours. You hardly scream innocent bunny.”

“What about me isn’t innocent?” he raises a brow, standing off of the desk.

“I…” you blink as he walks around to the back of the desk chair. “You’re just, um…”

“Fox got your tongue?” he coos, spinning the chair so that you’re forced to face him.

You inhale a deep breath and hold it as heat travels through your stomach and right to the center of your thighs.

“You’re a man who is about his business,” you say. “I imagine you’ve… had a lot of life experiences,” you pause to remind yourself to breathe, but it’s hard because of how ferociously Nanami is staring into your eyes. “So you c-can’t be all that innocent…”

“You seem nervous,” he coos. “Here. Let’s stand up, I’ll sit down. Maybe that will help you to not be so tense, hm?”

Your body obeys before your mind catches on. You’re standing in a beat, and Nanami has replaced you on the chair. Your bottom hits the crease of his large desk, and you slam your hands down on the surface to balance yourself.

“Sorry,” you say, putting a hand up to cover your face. “I don’t mean to imply that you make me uncomfortable, sir.”

Nanami's pupils flash white, but it's gone so quickly, you might have imagined it. "If I do, please let me know immediately.”

“No,” you say, dropping your hand, “I just think we need to get to know each other better, right? Our entire relationship is through the kids. I know that your son’s favorite shade of green is kiwi, but I don’t even know your first name.”

Nanami chuckles at this. “You know, I was thinking exactly the same thing.” He taps your knee. “Kento, silly girl. My first name is Kento.”

"A-And your favorite color?” you continue, trying to ignore how close he’s moved the chair towards you, now that you have fully planted your bottom on his desk.

“Pink,” he says, serious as death.

You giggle. “Why pink?”

“It’s the color of my favorite thing to eat,” he says, slowly placing his arms on either side of your thick thighs, hands planted flat on the surface of the desk.

You think for a moment. “Strawberry ice cream?”

“No,” he cocks his blond head to the side and his eyes fall on your tights. “Try again.”

You pretend to think, though you fear you may be catching on now. “Hmm, dragonfruit?”

“Nah,” Nanami says, looking up at you through his eyelashes. His pupils have been dilated from the alcohol, but there is an unrelated darkness in his eye now. “Something I don’t even have to swallow.”

You gulp. “Oh,” your suspicions have been confirmed.

“Get it now, little fox?” he coos.

“Mhmm,” you taunt back. “Well, I suppose I came prepared with your favorite dish, then.”

“Did you?” His hands boldly make their way to the top of your thighs, barely hovering over the skin but enough to make the flesh there light on fire. “Prepared it all nice and pretty for me?”

“Yes sir,” you nod eagerly, feeling your own boldness appear as your knees slide further away from one another. “How do you like it?”

“Extra moist,” he grits hungrily, fingernails curving into your tights and shredding a thick rip! through the material.

You gasp, entire torso lurching forward as he drags the hole bigger and bigger.

“Sorry, little fox. They were in the way,” he shrugs an innocent shoulder. “And what should we do about these shorts? They’re in the way, too.”

“Then let’s get them off,” you whisper, hardly registering that such filth had been uttered.

This truly can’t be happening. Is Nanami… Kento Nanami actually going to eat you out? Are his hands really slithering up your waist and fumbling with the button on your shorts, or are you in some kind of sick daydream?

"Mr. Nanami-"

"Please," he holds up a hand, one still remaining on the button of your shorts. "Kento. Call me Kento."

"Kento," you echo softly, and his eyelashes flutter. “You really want to do this?”

Nanami sucks in a breath. Several moments of silence pass, then his fingers are gently pressing against your chin, and he has risen to tower above you. "Maybe it's the liquid courage in me that's pushing me," he says, "but I’m okay with that. I dream about you on my tongue, night after night. I need you, Y/N.”

Instead of allowing you to reply, Nanami's lips are assaulting yours in a flash. A harsh, irrational kiss from a man who's lost his battle of self control.

Your hands fly up to his face to balance yourself at the sheer force the shock of the kiss has on you. He groans softly into you as your lips mold together, getting used to the shapes of each other’s mouths.

You want to begin deepening the kiss, but Nanami is suddenly pulling away.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly. You look at his face; for a man who is always so calm and composed, he is flushed and even shaking a little. “I should have asked if that was okay.”

"Did you hear me complaining?" you ask sternly.

“No-”

“Then shut up and kiss me, Kento.”

He wastes no time obeying your command; this time as he kisses you, his hands find the soft skin where your hips crease into your thighs. You’re aware of your thighs rubbing against his stomach as he crawls further on top of you.

You slide your arms up around the back of his neck to hold onto him as his lips work pure ecstasy into your mouth.

You sigh against him and he digs his fingers into your sides to get you to do it again. Now his tongue is in your mouth, softly swirling your own, smacking fiercely on your lips as he does so.

You're panting now, but Nanami is swallowing your breath with every second. He's leaning his weight on his palm, so his body isn't quite attached to yours, but you want to make him lose his balance so he can crash down on top of you. Every moment that you stay like this, your cunt drips wetter and wetter, seeping through your shorts onto his desk.

"So perfect," Nanami utters into your mouth, "s'much sweeter than I deserve."

You frown at his self deprecation but don't comment, instead your hands start sliding down his chiseled back, exploring the deep ridges and shapes of pure, hard muscle.

Then, plop! You blink in shock as his bunny ears have fallen plum onto your face, nearly gauging out your eye.

"Oh," he gasps, breaking away from you. "Forgot about these."

He pulls away from you, standing upright but staying between your legs. You swallow a needy whine at his absence, before sitting up with him, staring expectantly.

"Think they'll look better on you though, huh, darling?" he coos, reaching over your head and plucking your fuzzy ears off. Then, he’s replacing them with his bunny ears. "There, that's more fitting. I feel much more like the hunter than the hunted.”

You tilt your chin defiantly. "Mm, so I'm just an innocent rabbit in the sights of a dangerous hunter?"

“Clever bunny,” Nanami murmurs, leaning forward and catching you by surprise with a wet kiss at the nape of your neck. You shudder. “Time for me to eat my latest catch, hm?”

“I-I guess so-”

“Oh, don't get shy now, bunny,” he mewls against your ear. “Do you want to do this?”

You pretend to consider it, but your dripping hole has already answered for you. "Yes, sir."

Nanami purrs in response and taps your earlobe with his perfect teeth - before you're being shoved back on the flat surface. Three quick beats occur. Beat, shorts off. Beat, tights off. Beat, panties sliding slowly down your legs.

"God," he says, hooking his fingers over the trim of the panties, which are light blue in color, accented by an adorable pink bow in the front. "All this time, I could've had you like this, if only-” he cuts himself off to lean down and place a kiss to your inner knee.

Your nerves send repeated quivers over you. You dig your nails into the desk, but your palms are so sweaty that your hand slips. Nanami catches you, a heavy hand on your lower back, the other hand entangling in your panties and proceeding to rip them all the way off. Your clothes are now in a discarded pile to the right of you, fuzzy tail and ears a reminder of what got you into this position in the first place.

“Well we can make up for lost time now,” you whisper, sliding your feet farther apart until your knees are angled into the air - gaping pussy winking up at Nanami.

His eyes nearly jump from his body as he watches you open up for him, glistening cunt all in his face. He's sinking back down into the chair before either of you really processes it, and his heavy palms fall flat on your inner thighs.

"She's s'pretty, sweetheart," he coos, the breath from his words tickling your clit and making you writhe pathetically. "Haven't even touched you yet. Why are you shaking?”

You whine out in embarrassment. Something about your most perverted fantasies coming alive before you, Nanami talking to you like this, and him staring directly at the forbidden parts you'd never thought he'd see, is depleting your confidence.

"What's wrong, bunny?" he asks, reading your expression. "You look like you are second guessing this."

"N-No!" you cry out, making him jump, before you sigh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. No, I want to. I'm just embarrassed."

"Why?" he perks a brow, astonished.

"Because you're so..." you huff uncomfortably, "fine, and here I am, of course anyone would be embarrassed of their own genitals, y'know I just kind of never expected this and-”

"Y/N," Nanami interrupts. "I've seen plenty of these before; all different types, sizes and colors. I am going to devour you regardless of what you think.”

You swallow thickly. Your head nods like a puppet, though you're unsure if that's you saying you understand, or telling him to go ahead.

While you're deciding, Nanami plants a kiss to your bikini line, then slides his hands to wrap his arms around your thighs so that it's now impossible for you to close them. Your stomach is on fire, and you're on the verge of gyrating your pelvis right into his stupidly perfect face.

"Tell me you want this, bunny," Nanami rasps, placing another loud kiss to your inner thigh.

"I want this," you confirm again, "want you."

You don't have to say anything else because his mouth has already found your clit. Warm breath travels between your folds as he keeps his tongue narrowed out to swirl agonizingly slow circles over the bulb.

Your hips convulse against his strength. It does nothing except prompt Nanami to flatten his whole mouth over your heat and pick up speed with his tongue.

"Oh, ohh," you drawl, your hands leaving the desk surface and going right through his fine hair. His hold on you ensures you can’t fall backwards, but you’re gripping his roots for dear life.

He grumbles against your cunt and you feel it all the way up to your ovulating uterus. The desire to have your womb house more of his children starts to enter your brain and you have to remind yourself that this is just sex.

Oh, but it's so much more than that. Nanami's taking his time to work your body, to know exactly which pace makes you cry out like a pathetic fucktoy, noting when you wriggle under his grip, as he pushes his fingertips into the flesh on your legs.

His warm tongue keeps your puffy lips parted effortlessly; lathering you up with his saliva, drinking in the fluid your body creates more of each second.

You sit up farther to look down at him; his eyebrows are furrowed and focused, his cheeks hollowed as he treats your twitching clit like his tongue’s dance partner.

He swirls, flicks, slurps - each variation unlocking a new noise from you as you fight back your orgasm.

As you watch him, your fucked-out, needy brain begins to tell you would give him whatever he wanted in this moment; six children and a house from scratch if that's what he requested. Because he deserves it; the way his tongue’s now dipping slightly into your desperate hole, making your hips jerk from the desk until he counter-forces them with his hands.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snaps, grazing his teeth over your clit.

You can’t even speak; he’s eaten your voice right out of you. His head shakes side to side as he plants his mouth back on you and peers up through his blond lashes, daring you to pull that stunt a second time.

Your hands are still deeply entangled in his roots, but at this point you can't keep your eyes in the front of your head. Your head lolls back on your neck as your hips twitch with an unholy amount of momentum. Your moans are growing dangerously loud; knowing full well there's an entire party nearby, as well as the possibility of nosy maids. Not that either of you care.

"Kento, s-so good," you lament, bucking your hips into his chin as if you could chase more pleasure than he's already giving you. The heat in your stomach is the first indication that your pleasure is morphing into an orgasm, but you don’t want to cum yet.

You want to try and run again, just to give yourself a little time to catch up…

The minute Nanami feels your hip bones sliding away from him, he pulls his mouth off of you; your orgasm slipping away. You take a deep breath in regret.

“Someone must not want to cum,” he taunts, keeping his mouth close to your trickling cunt. “Need you to stay still.”

“I can’t,” you breathe, trembling.

“Try for me?” Nanami requests softly, lifting your thighs into the air before plopping your feet flat on his shoulders.

He plants a heavy kiss to your clit after the adjustment in your position and you dig your toes into his back.

“F-For you,” you repeat mindlessly, brain officially scrambled like a breakfast platter.

“Mmh-” Nanami grunts, planting his fat tongue back between your slick folds, working his jaw intensely to finish pulling the orgasm out of you. He sticks the narrow tip back at your hole, flicking the rim of the inside as if it’s his purpose for living.

Your toes lift into the air as Nanami tests your flexibility, pushing your knees next to your ears. With the pressure built up in your stomach, you barely have time to mutter out the announcement of your orgasm before you're cumming all over his tongue and clenching your walls around the wet muscle.

"Give it to me, bunny," he moans, words muffled because of the way you're gripping his tongue with your pussy.

You keep shaking for a solid thirty seconds, because he is refusing to take his tongue out of you. When finally you’ve calmed to a slight twitch, he removes his face from between your thighs and the entire lower half of his face glistens in the light.

"That's one," he murmurs to himself, crawling back over you to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. "You did so well. You taste so sweet, bun.”

"Can I return the favor?" you ask needily, dragging your palm down his chest.

He grinds his pelvis across your lower half, so that you can feel the sheer length of his bulge beneath his pants. "What for?"

Your eyes widen at just how large it feels; surely it's smaller than it appears.

"Wanna please you, sir," you babble out, watching his eyebrows furrow at the self-proclaimed pet name.

"Hm, think that ship sailed long ago,” he chuckles, rubbing his clothed dick against your inner thigh this time, and now, you take notice of the warm trail of precum that’s leaked through his pants onto your skin.

You dig your nails into his chest instead of replying. He bites back a groan and kisses your neck.

“I’m going to have to restrain you if you want’a keep being so touchy," he whispers sternly.

"I do have handcuffs," you say, following it with a giggle. Though you’re only half joking.

"That's cute," he mewls. "You think I need handcuffs to restrain you?" He pauses. "What's that you said? That I'm twice your size?"

You swallow thickly, remembering that you had, in fact, said that.

"So I can, and will easily pin you down, bun," he continues. "Don't act up, and I won't have to, yeah?"

You wish you can say you won’t, but if he thinks you dislike the idea of being pinned down, he must not be faking his innocence, like you’d thought.

A moment later, he's standing away from you, and his hands expertly unbutton his shirt. You watch him with desire, and he smiles a little shyly at you as he shrugs off the garment and tosses it to the floor.

“Funny, you’ve seen me shirtless before,” he says suddenly. “Why do I feel a bit nervous about it this time?”

You giggle and cock your head to the side, legs still spread wide. “Should’ve always felt nervous. I’m a huge pervert, y’know.”

Nanami dips his head before coming back to be close to your body again, his fingers mindlessly tugging on the hem of your shirt now.

“I know,” he whispers. “A little minx, you are.”

“Took you long enough to realize it, hm?” you tease as you lift your arms to assist him in removing the shirt. But you are caught off guard when he doesn’t continue.

"You're still sure you want to do this?" he questions, changing the subject. “I'm sorry. I'm going to ask a hundred times, it’s just a habit.”

"Yes, Kento," you rasp frustratingly. "Do I have to get on my knees and beg to be fucked for you to get it?"

He blinks, stunned, as if that is not something he ever considered; but does sound appealing to him.

"No," he says quickly, slowly lifting your shirt further over your body. "How did we end up here, hm? Was this your plan from the moment you crashed my Halloween party?"

"Uh-uh," you say innocently, as he pulls the shirt over your head. Now you sit completely naked in front of him - save for the bunny ears on your head.

"I get the feeling you're a big, fat liar," he teases, leaning back over you, now your stomachs are touching and everywhere your skin meets is tingling. "Didn't I tell you to be a good girl? Good girls don't lie."

“‘M not lying," you argue. "Admit you were over here waiting for me to show up all night."

"Maybe I was," he murmurs, dragging his top teeth over the connection between your neck and your shoulder before planting a wet kiss on your collar bone. "And you came for me, like always."

A gasp erupts from your throat and Nanami cuts it off by sliding his hand there. He uses his fingers to apply the gentlest amount of pressure to the sides of your neck and your body arches against him.

"Tell me if anything I do is too much for you, little fox," he coos in your ear before dropping his hand from your neck and standing back straight to quickly unbuckle his belt.

He slides the garment out of his belt loops, and discards it to the side, on top of your clothes. So in other words: close by.

"Kento," you pant, "please."

"Please what?" he questions, raising a brow innocently as he pops open the button to his tight pants - visibly taking a deep breath as his bulge pokes free.

"You're dragging this out," you whine. "I've needed you for so long. This is torture."

"So what?" he shrugs, allowing his pants to fall to the floor, where he steps out of them.

"I..." you cut yourself off with a frustrated grunt.

"You said please, but you aren't using your words, little fox.” He slides his body back over yours - his boxers now being the only barrier between you. "What do you want?"

"You, your cock, your mouth," you pant all of it out in one quick sentence. "I... I just need you inside of me, Mr. Nanami."

Your breasts rub against his hard chest, teasing your achingly hard nipples. Just so pathetic. Can’t control yourself. Your brain's swirling with desire and ecstasy for him. If he can't read your mind, you're sure he can see it in your face.

"Okay, sweetheart," he says, voice returning to its usual softness, "you got me. All yours."

He tugs his boxers down quickly, desperately. Now your hips are aligned to each other's. He's still hovering, his cock not even touching you yet. He slides a hand between your legs as his other keeps you steady, gripping harshly on your hip which is sure to leave a delicious bruise.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he drags his mouth across your jaw before attaching his lips to your neck. His fingers gather the drip from your hole, and then he slides them up through your folds and to your clit. He swirls the fingers softly, keeping his ear right next to your mouth so that he can hear exactly what he’s doing to you.

Your legs shake against his ribs while you moan for him, and he grunts as he takes in all of your body's reactions to his touch.

He goes to try and put a finger in your cunt but you grab his wrist. He does not argue with you, which should be a red flag, but you think you’ve won until he takes the hand he had been using to play with you and grips your wrist, yanking it back, and your entire body goes falling against the desk.

Somehow, both of your wrists are being pinned to the wood in one large hand now. You whine and squirm under him, but he doesn't care. His free hand grabs his cock.

He takes the heavy tip and taps it against your clit several times, each time causing you to gasp and arch against him.

"That's right," he whispers above you. "No escaping now, bun."

You blink up at him, lifting your hips to grind your pussy on him, which causes his lips to part and his eyebrows to furrow.

You open your mouth, tongue flying out, wanting to appeal to another twisted fantasy. “Need your spit,” you mumble shyly.

He seems to ponder for a moment before he realizes what exactly it is you are asking, and a moment later he is leaning forward, dripping a warm glop of saliva from his mouth down your throat.

“Mmh-” you moan as you swallow happily, before looking down between your legs where he is finally done lubricating himself on your juice. He's staring at you hopelessly, as if he’s thinking that putting his cock in you isn't going to be enough.

“So nasty,” he coos, “ready for me, sweetheart?”

"Hngh- please," you beg.

Not a second later, hot pressure is at your hole. Nanami slides his hips upward to push himself deeper, deeper, deeper - the girth feeling like it's going to simply rip you in half.

You shriek and shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the pain to pass. It doesn't.

You feel so embarrassed as he takes his free hand to lift up your left thigh, because pain shoots up through your stomach - and not the good kind.

"Ah- wait," you cry out, eyes falling open.

Nanami stops immediately. "What's the matter?"

"It... it hurts," you admit shyly, biting your lip. "Wh-Why d'you have to be so big?"

"Why d'you have to be so tight?" he chuckles back, but carefully slides out of you. "Hang on. I know what will help, little fox."

He pulls away from you, letting go of your wrists to lean over and dig into a random drawer in his desk. You have no idea what he could possibly be doing until he stands back straight, a hand still holding up your leg, while the other holds a small, light pink, bullet-shaped rubber object.

"Brand new," he says, eyeing it as he rotates it between his fingers. "Just put batteries in it."

You swallow as you realize what this implies. He knew he was going to fuck you - or at least, that he was going to use this toy on you at some point. Or, a third worse thing: it hadn't been for you at all.

You don’t want to think about that possibility, though.

He hands the little toy to you, a small buzz coming from it already.

"Hold it for me," he instructs. "I need my hands to keep my prey from running."

You gulp and do as he says, and again he is taking his cock head and pushing it against you, before it slides through the gummy entrance and you cry out again.

You hold the toy to your clit and the feeling travels straight through your veins. You focus on the vibrations and before you can even inhale again, your insides are completely full.

"Deep breaths, bun," he grunts, "feel her o-opening up… now.”

Did he just stutter? Kento Nanami, who's always so composed. You'd made him lose his wording. You.

Nanami takes his hands and pulls your knees up, holding them to his sides, while you keep your hand occupied on the little bullet between your legs.

The combination of the toy plus his cock filling you up and molding your walls against it has you aching to spill over, already.

Now that the searing has begun to dissolve, his cock is gliding effortlessly inside of you - feeling as though the organ was crafted to fit you perfectly. Your juices cover every inch of him, delicious squelches creating a symphony with your moans as Nanami's pace quickens.

He has his hands still pressed on your thighs but he leans forward and gently pulls a nipple into his warm mouth. You don't know what to do with your free hand, so it ends up on his back, nails mercilessly breaking open his skin. He hisses and nips your nipple between his teeth.

"Fuck. Me," he groans, pulling away from your chest to look down at you. You want to make a comment about how you already are, but he just looks so fucked out - so vulnerable. Lips puffy and wet, eyes shut tight, hair dangling over his forehead.

He’s ruined.

He claws his fingers into your outer thighs. His fingers dig so hopelessly into you as his cock swirls your insides, his hips now moving in a rhythmic wave motion.

Your hand falls away from your clit with the toy and you hardly notice that it's gone because now, his pelvis is brushing over it, sweat practically gluing the two of you together.

"Aw," he purrs, and you look up to see that his eyes are staring directly between your legs. "You’re creaming all over me. Shit - your cunt looks so good, swallowing me up.”

Your face heats and you take your hands to grip his arms, as he's now drilling into you so torturously that you're gliding up the desk - the sweat on your back making your skin slick. He notices you're moving away and shifts his hands to grab your hips, holding you down onto him, and now his fat tip is violating your cervix.

"H-Hah Kento, ngh - God," is all you can manage to say, but there’s nothing holy about what his cock is doing to you, as he angles himself upward, attacking your uterus from a new direction.

You shriek, so horribly loud. It sounds like a horror movie - which is fitting. You’ve nearly forgotten that it’s Halloween night; the moon full, your passions like the tides, being pulled to their peak.

You desperately feel a needy confession on your lips but you know that now isn't the time. You can't love a man you don't date... right? But you definitely love the way he's tearing up your insides, sure to leave you swollen and limping.

"I don't remember telling you that you could remove your hand," he snaps, realizing you’ve removed the bullet, "put it back. Now."

You shake your head, begging for mercy. "Was too much, c-can't take it."

"Yes you can," he whispers, leaning forward and hovering his mouth over yours, cognac-scented breath teasing your parted lips. "Put it back, or I stop."

You whine and obey, the vibration revisiting your clit making your body convulse against him.

"Mhmm, like that sweetheart," Nanami coos, staring at you as your face twists every couple of seconds from the introduction of new kinds of pleasure. "Stick that tongue back out for me."

Your mouth is open, drool practically spilling out of the sides in a millisecond. He's spitting another alcoholic saliva drop into your mouth the next.

His breath is ragged as he drags out, "Thought I knew everything. But y’teaching - hah - me new things. Like how I can never live without your pretty pussy, ever again."

You quiver your lip and dig your nails into his back again, ready to cum on his cock.

"S-Stop talking like that," you grit out. "G-Gonna cum if you don't stop."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" he questions harshly. "You can cum over and over. I’m not finished with you."

You shake your head, but before you can fire back, Nanami is suddenly sliding himself out of you. You panic and sit up, staring at him with wide eyes as he drops to sit on the chair.

His hands come up to grab your hips roughly, and he's effortlessly pulling you down off of the desk. Your stomach makes contact with his thighs as he lays you over his lap like a disobedient child.

"Nanami?" you breathe, but he doesn't seem to hear you at all.

"We just needed to pause for a second," he says softly, running a hand down your spine and over the hill of your ass. His voice is very misleading, as are his gentle gestures; you have no idea what's coming.

"N-No," you whine, "I was so close."

"But, naughty bunny, didn’t you tell me to stop?" he questions, distracting you from the fact that his fingers are sliding between your asscheeks and down to your swollen hole.

You jerk in his lap as two of his fingers glide down your slick, parting your thick lips, repeating the process several times just to watch you squirm.

“Y-Yes, but-”

“What’d I tell you about lying?” he grits, and a blink later his fingers have parted from your skin.

You turn to scold him and his hand cracks down on the back of your thighs.

You yelp, but the action exhilarates you in some kind of disgusting way.

“Oh, and here’s another for calling me Nanami,” he spits, another crack landing on your backside but this time - higher, and harder.

“K-Kento, I’m sorry,” you whine, but you truly don’t want it to stop. Your fingers dig into his leg and he hisses, his cock jerking against your stomach as his body responds.

“How sorry, bun?” he coos, voice faking softness before another pop! of his palm stings your skin.

“I’ll be good, promise,” you whisper, arching your hips up to encourage another smack.

“You like this, don’t you, naughty bunny?” he realizes suddenly, and you try to shake your head in denial - but he’s caught on. “Hm. I’ll only accept your apology if you give me two more orgasms. Deal?”

“Two?” you cry. “I-I’ve already had one!”

“Good things always cum in threes, baby,” he murmurs, running his hand over the pretty hand-shaped welps he’s left on your skin. “You can give it to me. You want to be good, don’t you?”

You don’t know when the shift happened, but you loved it. You loved how he was letting his soft facade crumble to the ground so that he could truly slap you around like you were just a hole. Truthfully, that’s all you wanted to be. Wanted to let him take out the stress of being a single father on your guts, fill you up with more babies to care for, and then kiss you on the forehead when it was all done.

Pathetic. This is still your employer, your boss. And not to mention how much older he is. You don’t care, but you’re unsure if he does.

“I wanna cum again, please,” you beg, wriggling your ass up to show him you still needed punishment.

He groans before his two thick fingers are pressing between your lips and then, shoving through the soft ring at your center.

Your body shamelessly arches, but he allows your arms to stay free, clawing into his skin wherever you can get a grip.

Nanami is making his own noises above you but you’re on the verge of tears, wailing and carrying on as he fucks you with his fingers, curling the tips into your squishy ridges to try and drive the cum out of you faster.

“Maybe we should get one of those tails with a plug,” he comments, tone implying he’s thinking out loud. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to see you in your cute little tail while I fuck you.”

“Hngh - no, mmh…” you don’t even know what noises to make anymore. Words escape your brain.

Nothing but mush and the burning of your approaching orgasm are on your mind.

“Hold it in for me,” Nanami requests suddenly, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready for it, sweetheart.”

“God,” you shake your head and clench your thighs, but Nanami’s strong hand forces them back apart.

Your toes curl on the other side of the chair, your head falling forward. The pulse in Nanami’s cock is still drumming against your abdomen, as if knocking on your tummy to threaten you to hold your orgasm.

“I-I can’t,” you say, “Please, can I-”

“Cum.”

Nasty, wet squelches don’t stop as your body sends you over the edge. Your vision blacks and you shake so hard that you nearly roll right to the floor.

He hums approvingly, slowing his fingers down as you clench around them. “Good job, bun. Only one more to go.”

“I can’t take another,” you shake your head, as he gently guides you up into a sitting position on his lap.

“You’re so strong,” he says, “the perfect person for me. The way you always take care of me and the kids, how you fit so effortlessly into our little family. I know you can do this for me, sweetheart. Let me repay you for all that you do for us. Make you feel good.”

You hadn’t expected this little speech. It almost brings you to tears as Nanami gently rubs your back, sliding his free arm underneath your legs to lift you princess-style back onto the desk.

“Say something,” he begs, his voice hoarse.

“I wanted to be good for you,” you grin softly, and he smiles back as he runs his hands gently over the top of your legs. “But you want to be good for me. Which is it?”

“Both,” Nanami whispers. “I told you that you already do everything that keeps me content. Now, I want to please you.”

You realize that he is passing his power off to you. Letting his dominance slip through his fingers and right into the palm of your hand. You think you can handle being in control for your final orgasm, so you grip him harshly by his cock and scoot your ass to the edge of the desk.

He moans so softly that it could have been a whimper. You take his curvy length and drag it up to be aligned with your hole.

“Is your cock alone gonna please me, hm?” you purr, swirling your hips to tease his cock head, salty precum spreading across your hole.

“Y-yes ma’am,” he mutters, body lurching forward as if he’s the overstimulated one.

“Prove it,” you quip, shoving him back inside of you before pushing your hips down onto him.

You furrow your eyebrows to try and pretend the pain of him entering isn’t still intense. You lift yourself off of your palms and feet, using them to fuck down onto his twitching cock.

“Hah - Y/N,” he speaks your name in two sultry syllables, putting his hands on the desk to fully release his control as you use him.

“Baby, I need to fill you up,” he continues, “b-but if you don’t want me to…”

“Yes,” you say, “want me to have your babies, Mr. Nanami?”

“Oh,” he whimpers, “shit. Shit, don’t say stuff like that.”

You whirl your hips on him in the shape of an ‘O.’

“Want to breed me?” you continue. “Make me all big and pregnant?”

“That’s enough,” he snaps suddenly, hand clamoring down on the belt that is to your side, before he grips the garment in his hand. He sits up from where he’d been leaning on you, before taking the leather and slithering it around your neck, pulling it through the buckle, and yanking it towards him like you’re just a pathetic bitch on a leash.

“You had your fun,” he grits, “now you need to remember your place, bunny. I’m going to fill you to the brim until your cunt can’t take anymore and it drips back out of you, got it?”

“Mmh,” you pull against his belt as your hips are no longer the once controlling the pace. “Nanami, n-nooo…”

Your voice tapers off as he fucks you, fucks you so good and hard and mean until you’re drooling and crying and shaking and hissing and-

“Cumming!” you scream, but Nanami shows no signs of slowing down.

“That’s it,” he says. “Number three. What about four?”

“Y-You said…”

“Oh, you’re the only one who gets to lie around here?” he chuckles, a deep hypnotic sound that vibrates against your chest. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m gonna - ngh” and one viscid moment later, Nanami begins to shudder, and it is the beginning of the end.

You cannot tell if you are mourning or rejoicing the conclusion of this insane chain of events, but you forget all about it when Nanami is spurting hot semen all over your taut, spongey walls - that are now sore and quivering from the excessive abuse.

Your name leaves his lips in between the sultry noises he makes, and his body jerks on top of you until he’s finished spewing his load. Now, he stands in front of you with his head dipped down as he pants for several seconds.

“Do you understand how addicting you are?” are the first words that leave his lips after he is able to drag his head up to look at you.

You’re focused on your own huffing as you try to come up with a witty response, but with your brain so fucked out, the only thing you can mutter is “Oh, Kento.”

He nestles his sweaty face into your neck and plants a feathery kiss there, reminding you that he is still the same gentle Nanami that tucks his children in bed at night and drinks green tea in the garden.

He is everything you have dreamed of, but the sex had truly sealed it. Now, as he slips out of you and his cum follows soon after, you feel your post-high clarity morphing into embarrassment at the fact that all you’d been feeling is lust; Nanami deserves so much more than that, including his recognition as a father.

“Why are you staring at me? Have I still got your nectar on my face?” he jokes, and you admire his ability to loosen the tension.

“I’m sorry,” you say meekly, “I just think you are amazing. I don’t want you to think I really did just come for some cock.”

At this, he laughs so hard that his torso shakes. You smile, as it is rare to hear, and you are the cause of it.

He grabs his shirt and begins to use it to wipe himself off, then does the same for you, his movements intentional and gentle as he cleans you up, rubbing all of the puffy, red reminders on your body softly.

“I don’t think that,” he says with a crooked smile. “But whatever the case, I do hope that things have… changed between us.”

You scoff. “I should hope so,” you tease, tilting your head as he stops his hands on your body. “I hope you’re not going around making every person who comes near you cum three times in one sitting and expect to just be friends.”

He grins. “Nah, that treatment is reserved for you, bun.” His hands slide up your hair and pat the fuzzy ears on your head. “We should keep these around, though. But I’d like to take you out before we use them again.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring his face to yours, planting a gentle kiss on his nose. “Of course. You did say good things come in threes,” you grin. “The sex was one. The date will be two. What’s three?”

And your question gets answered nine months later, when Nanami proposes to you on a white beach in another country.

…Right before you go into labor.

But of course, once the baby is out, it’s time to start on number 4 the following Halloween.

A/N 2.0

ty all sm for the love on this series so far i’m rlly havin the time of my life writing all these twisted monster-fucker stories ^.^

~ pennjammin

[ozzgin]

“Do you mean it in the sense that Reader goes through monster boyfriends and is quick to dump them for the next catch”

Yep. Just a vile reader who’s breaking hearts left and right. I think you’ll write it beautifully if you channel your evil side like when you play the sims! ☺️

-👘

Yandere! Monsters x Heartbreaker! Reader

You've always been a free spirit, unable to settle on a single partner. Even after being abruptly transported into a different dimension where you are the only human surrounded by monsters, this habit of yours has persisted. Except monsters, as you will see, are harder to discard than humans. They aren't as willing to accept rejection.

Content: female reader, reader is a player, monster smut

Ah, how troublesome. He won't stop calling. You lazily pick up the phone and look for the options to block the number, clicking your tongue in irritation. You'd specifically told him you're not interested in anything serious. "Who's calling?" The man shuffles under the sheets, still half-asleep. "No one." You respond curtly, glaring at the intruder. "It's morning already, by the way. When are you leaving?"

You slam the door shut before the overnight guest can bring up the classic "Will I see you again", and exhale theatrically in relief. Finally alone again. You look up and shake your fist menacingly, as if whichever entity governing this world is responsible for your bad luck. You've always been utterly indifferent towards committed relationships, and yet most fuck buddies end up head over heels for you, dragging themselves at your feet like pitiful beggars. Pathetic and a pain in the ass to deal with.

Well, someone must be up there, because your situation feels too much like a sassy answer to your complaint. You've just rushed out of your apartment a moment ago and last time you checked, the concierge office wasn't on a rocky hill covered in deep cracks erupting with lava, stretching out into the seemingly unending horizon. Where the hell are you? You turn on your heels, reaching for the door, only to find out - who would've expected? - that it's gone. Great. Your immediate explanation is that the guy you've mistakenly brought home last night must've slipped something in your drinks. All this for a sloppy, clumsy eating out.

The worry of being drugged vanishes quickly once the first creatures of the realm appear. Hard to believe anything on the market could cause such detailed hallucinations that can sniff and touch you: Some alligator-looking minions with eyes popping out of their backs slid out of a nearby crevice to investigate the newcomer. Ironically enough, they seem to be the ones shocked by your appearance. Once they've hesitantly assessed your presence, they scurry aside to discuss their findings. "What could it be?" You hear one mumble, completely baffled. For whatever reason you can understand their language, so you decide to speed up their detective work. "Ever heard of human?" You shout, with a hint of sarcasm in your voice. The beasts gasp in unison. "Nonsense! Straight out of a children's tale!"

Eventually, after a lot of confusion and pointed fingers, you manage to figure out your predicament. You've somehow landed in a world of monsters, where humans are more of a fictional, mythical existence. Thankfully they don't seem to consider your potential as food, though you're not sure if the sudden, massive ambush of creatures is any better. The alligator-like quadrupeds brought you to the nearest settlement and had to form a barrier to stop the curious beasts from almost trampling you in their frenzy to see "the human". You've garnered ridiculous amounts of attention, yet such reaction is to be expected; how often would an earthling wander into their world? It could very well be a lifetime singularity for many.

As the days pass and you become more accustomed to your fate, you begin to feel that familiar calling. It doesn't look like you'll be going home anytime soon and a lady has her needs. Additionally, whatever popularity you had back in the human world is a minuscule fraction of what you're currently experiencing here. In the eyes of the monsters, you're an exotic treat that cannot be refused. It shouldn't be too hard to find yourself a partner, or two. Or three. Who keeps count nowadays?

You remember stumbling upon a postcard print of "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" at some museum shop. You immediately picked up the thick cardboard, eyeing the artwork in amusement. A woman enveloped in the limbs of two octopuses and very obviously enjoying herself. Who even came up with the pairing, you wondered at the time. Whatever the artist was thinking, you can certainly see his point now. The first one to receive your indecent proposal was an eldritch creature of sorts, something straight out of Lovecraft's lucid dreams. Dark, long tendrils sprawling out of an amorphous core - which you assume is its head based on the bulging, glistening orbs hungrily staring at you. Your whole body is throbbing under the tight hold of the slippery tentacles, wrapping around you in masterful intricacy. You could see the result featured in a bondage magazine, though you don't...can't ponder much on it given the fact you're, well, stuffed with monstrous appendages. You doubt any genital variation back home could compare. The monster is even polite enough to occasionally wipe away the continuous stream of drool spilling out of your whining mouth. Towards the end you barely have a voice anymore, throat sore from the loud moans and merciless constriction. Your muscles contract all at once, overwhelmed by the sensations. Whatever sensitive areas you might have are presently aching under the needy fondling of the creature.

Mind-blowing. The memory is enough to have you wet and squirming with desire. Even more so when you consider the other varieties of monsters ready to fuck you senseless. Soon enough you're surveying the neighborhood for the ideal suitors and thankfully you don't have to worry about making wrong choices, as there's always a next target. Thus the following weeks fill you with a particular kind of nostalgia (among other things and fluids), reminding you of the bed-hopping in the human realm. From werewolves drowning out your whimpers with their desperate howling, to hooved legs of hybrids violently thrusting into you until you're a dripping mess. "Look at me" is what one of the beasts demanded in a low growl, turning you on with its ragged voice and clawed hand encircling your frail neck. Although you had to ask it where exactly to look, given it was covered entirely in eyes.

You yawn and stare at the ceiling, reminiscing about the depraved fuckfest you're currently recovering from. You might've overdone it with the last one. Alas, you came enough times to make up for it. Just as you turn around to readjust the ice pack, you hear a loud thud coming from the entrance. You (carefully) sit up and rub your eyes, trying to focus on the shadow figure approaching your bed. It's one of the lizard monsters, swiftly slithering across the wall and landing over you with an angered expression. "Where the fuck is that dog?" it inquires with a hiss. "What? Who're you talking about?" you mumble, wildly confused. "The one that dared to touch you."

Oh, not this crap again. You almost roll your eyes. "You never said anything about us being together." Is your annoyed reply. "What? I thought it'd be obvious you belong to me!" You're about to question the strange logic, but your couple's quarrel is interrupted by the sound of shattered glass. The many-eyed monster crawls its way in with fluid, uncanny movements, releasing a deafening screech once it notices the lizard in your bed. "Off! Get off my human now!" is what it finally manages to verbalize in its fury. Okay, it seems to be the common belief. To clear off any shred of doubt remaining, the ceiling gives in and crumbles like putty under the weight of an enormous tentacle. You scream and cover your face from the bits of rubble flying everywhere, but you're quickly sheltered by another thick appendage looping itself around you, against the wrathful protests of the lizard. You did not anticipate the eldritch creature could expand to this gargantuan size.

For the first time since arriving here, you feel homesick. At least back home you could get rid of your annoying admirers with the slide of a button. Is there a larger scale alternative for cosmic blasphemies? You shake your fist (up? down? you can't tell in the darkness of the tentacle shield) towards the entity once more. Damn it, you've learned your lesson. Several steps must’ve been skipped before reaching a pack of angry, possessive monsters fighting over your ownership.

[gffa]

Probably the biggest problem with The Acolyte is what really bit it in the ass in the finale--its main characters did things because of the plot, not because they were organically built up or made sense. I could mostly overlook it in previous episodes because it felt like there was still more time to reveal the characters' motivations, but now that we're at the end, there's just so little throughline for either of the twins' characterizations. Mae makes the most sense, you get why she was so angry, she always wanted Osha to stay with her, of course she'd drop everything when Osha was alive, but then suddenly she's just completely okay with Qimir erasing her memories of Osha? Of giving up that relationship that drove her the entire time--and Qimir says this was permanent, I doubt Mae had reason to think otherwise--in half a second flat, not just physically separating her from Osha, but erasing her entire relationship with her?? And Osha makes even less sense, we all joke that about how hot Manny Jacinto is and how he ~seduced her to the dark side, but honestly her motivations just seemed utterly gone in the previous episode, she's 100% ready to drop everything she believed in and go with him just because? And up to this point she's barely shown any interest in her connection to Mae, it's all "tell not show" that Osha cared about her, we're told that it was her biggest wound, we're told that she felt that connection, but we don't really see it until suddenly she's running away with Mae because apparently all along she felt that pull towards her? Intellectually, there are reasons given in the show, but I didn't feel any of them, it was more "Osha behaves this way because the plot needs her to behave this way." It's the same reason Sol can't say, "It really looked like your mother was going to kill you when she started Force-dissolving you, so I reacted without realizing what she was doing." because if he's allowed to explain, then the plot falls apart. The plot demands that he half-ass his explanation rather than because that felt natural to Sol's character. Things happen because the characters need to get from point A to point B, so point C can happen, rather than because the characters felt like they would actually do that. And it's worse because these are your main characters, the entire plot of the show is set around them.

[codnasties]

bull rider!ghost 👻

having an uni bestie that's from a small rural town as someone who was born and raised in a city has it's perks, like getting to experience things you had never experienced before. and i'm talking about going to a rodeo.

crowd roaring as a new rider sat on an angry bull and got tossed into the air as the animal bucked fiercely. the first few wild dudes that you had seen were interesting. you know, the attraction of something new that you had never really seen before. but after a handful of them it started getting a bit boring, but your friend was cheering on so loudly and seemingly enjoying that so much it would probably be rude to tell them that you weren't having so much fun.

trying to find some kind of entertainment, you told your friend you were going to go and get a drink, because at this moment a beer looked like it would bring you some semblance of entertainment.

but you were wrong, because as you make your way back to the rodeo grounds, your eye caught a rider that was different. he had a commanding and charming aura to him, something that impelled you to look at him. well, maybe it was more that just the way he carried himself.

it was the way those jeans seemed to hug those thick thighs of his, how, with the help of the chaps he was wearing, they left little to imagination, giving you a perfect view of his ass. and oh what an ass! and his shirt... the way his strong and built muscle seemed to flex and ripple with each movement that he made.

when you finally made it back to where your friend was sitting - which took you longer than the way to the bar because of adoring such a man -, this mysterious dude was now on the chute, lowering himself onto one hell of an angry bull.

while the rest of the riders had caught your eye, there was nothing but anticipation inside of you to see him try to tame that ton and a half bull. and he did not disappoint, the beast beneath him bucking trying to get him of.

it wasn't just the way he has holding on or how long those eight seconds seemed to last when it was him on the arena. it was the way his hips swayed trying to follow the bulls movements, the way the bicep of the arm he was using to hold on became impossibly bigger with the tension, the veins that were proptinding on the hand he had up in the air, the glimpse of tattoos on his forearm as the sleeve of his shirt got pulled by his muscles.

before you ever realised, the buzzer had sounded, indicating that the time necessary was over and that he could now get off the bull. and when he did, you became even more intrigued by him and how fucking tall he looked and how he, amazingly, had managed to keep the hat he was wearing on his head the whole time.

seeing how entranced you were by this one specific rider, your friend immediately gave you that information that you were unknowingly desperate to know. "his name is simon riley, but they call him ghost"

"ghost?", you asked them back.

"yup, because of the way he rides, breaks records and then fucking vanishes. the public doesn't really know much about him or his personal life. and it's also a know fact that is hard to even get to meet him and talk to him" they explained. "oh, an also he ghost every single person that he fucks'

"hmm interesting", you hummed, starting to get into your head that as much as this 'ghost' seemed attractive and got you horny just from looking at him, he was quite unreachable and maybe a bit of an asshole.

"yeah, the man's a beast at what he does", they exclaimed, cutting your thought process.

"i can see, you don't need me to tell me twice", you uttered back.

"and he's actually a cousin of mine! let me introduce you to him'" they gave you further explanation.

you couldn't help the immediate 'oh' that left you. because you actually had a chance to talk to this man an maybe, maybe try to cham your way into those tight jeans of his. because an asshole has his charm, you know?

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

hope y'all enjoyed that, i just pulled this out of my pussy.

no smut just pure hornyness. anyways, save a horse ride a cowboy or sum

[just1cefor4ll]

—I’ll be watching you

A/N. this is my first ever time writing for arcane so I’m sorry if anyone is OOC, also you call Jinx “Calamity Jane” towards the end and as a sort of explanation I read that she (Martha Jane Burke, who was nicknamed that) would bring calamity (great harm) to anyone who made her angry or something like that so I thought it pretty much fit?? idk am I crazy?

Summary. A failed mission leaves Jinx emotionally shattered, and as her partner and the one closest to her, you offer your comfort.

warning. mentions of gagging, swearing, not proof read

"Y/N?" Sevika’s voice cuts through your makeshift bedroom, her tone steady and low, though you catch a hint of an almost unnoticeable smile she only ever reveals to people she trusts most— at least the genuine ones. “Yeah?" You respond, raising an eyebrow as you sit up, suspicion creeping into your thoughts at her sudden appearance.

“Silco is calling,” she announces, her tone turning serious as she gestures toward the door. “Says it’s urgent, so you better get your ass moving before he loses his patience.” As you stand, she claps a firm hand on your back, sending you on your way.

Your expression betrays your lack of enthusiasm as you leave. Nearly eight months into working for Silco, the experience has been nothing short of a rollercoaster .

You remember how it all began—how they found you. You’d been left for dead on the streets, your body beaten, hunger eating at you (as ironic as that sounded) until even your consciousness started to slip from you. Then, amidst the blur of pain and hopelessness, a voice broke through. “Hey, Sevika? Found a girl and she ain’t moving,” the voice had said, casual yet laced with curiosity, dragging out the ‘o’ in moving. It belonged to a blue-haired girl who crouched near your crumpled form. Before long, footsteps rushed closer and everything after that was a haze. What mattered now was that you were alive, under a roof, and surrounded by people who, if not outright kind, were at least kind enough in keeping you around.

Jinx had become the closest to you. Only a year younger, she often found reasons to drag you into her antics whenever she wasn’t trapped in one of her moods. She had opened up to you on more than one occasion, revealing fragments of her past that very few had the privilege— or misfortune to hear. On other days, she’d meet your concern with sarcasm or tell you to “fuck off” or whatever insult she decided to call you that day. Charming as ever, Jinx had a knack for keeping things...interesting.

As you approach Silco’s office you knock on the carved wooden door, finding yourself momentarily distracted, tracing the details of the design before the faint, muffled words, “Come in,” snap you back to reality.

Pushing the door open, you straighten your posture and try your best to keep your face as neutral as possible. “You called for me?” you ask, stepping forward to stand before the desk where Silco sat, a cigarette between his slim fingers.

The smoke quickly mixes into the air, making it harder to breathe but you endure it without complaint. In the background soft jazz plays, the sound leaving you in a trance, another world where things seemed better. Visions of elegant soirées, women in flowing gowns, men in expensive tuxedos, their laughter and movement going along with the tunes of a trumpet.

“Y/N,” Silco’s sharp voice snaps you out of your train of thougt and you blink, realizing you’ve lost focus, the tips of your ears burning with embarrassment. “Are you even listening to me right now?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer, though only half-truthfully. You’ve caught fragments of his words, something about Jinx and another one of her shenanigans, the details of which were already causing a headache to ripple through his operations.

“Good,” he says, exhaling a big puff of smoke before dismissing you with a wave of his hand. “Go.”

Without hesitation, you leave the office, heading directly to Jinx’s hideout.

‘What have you done this time?’ You think to yourself, a groan escaping your lips as your steps echo against the metal platforms leading to the heart of her chaotic sanctuary.

You soon spot her, nestled within her makeshift fort illuminated by warm, glowing lights. It looks oddly serene—a stark contrast to the whirlwind of chaos she so often brings. It’s the kind of space that might calm her restless energy when the world, or her mind, seem to turn against her.

You carefully step towards her figure which was huddled in a sort of ball, her eyes wide and brows furrowed with anger. She kept mumbling incoherent sentences and threats which you only caught certain words from. You croach next the girls small figure and observe her before speaking up.

“So.. Wanna talk about it.” You whisper, offering her yourself as a sort of vent book or punching bag for her to just pour everything out, which from your experience worked best for the both of you.

She only rolled her eyes in annoyance, whispering a harsh ‘Go away’ before turning your back to you.

The information you got from Silco was vague, however you pieced together that like always, she was only trying to help but sadly her cards weren’t in her favour.

“Listen, I know your upset and that’s completely valid on your end however don’t hold these feelings in. Okay, sweets?” A gentle hand lands on Jinxs’ back and everything came crashing down on her. She leaped into your arms, full on ugly crying and shaking from the built up tension. She yelled profanities and sentances left and right and all you could really do was listen and let her get it out.

You didn’t say anything for a moment, giving her the space to compose herself. Jinx sat back, her knees drawn to her chest, her fingers idly fidgeting with a loose thread on her pants. The raw vulnerability in her expression was something rare—something she reserved for no one but you and Silco.

"You done?" you ask softly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips to help lift her mood.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m done,” she muttered, her voice raspy from all the shouting and crying. Her usual amount of energy dim, replaced by a kind of exhaustion that made her seem smaller than she really was.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” you asked, keeping your tone gentle but firm. You didn’t want to push her too hard, but you also knew that bottling things up would only make it worse for her.

Jinx hesitated, her fingers tightening around the thread she was pulling at. “It’s stupid,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I could help out because their plan was pretty fucking stupid, but instead, I just.. made it worse.”

She continued with a hint of guilt in her tone, eyes looking towards her fingers which her nails were scratching at. “The mission went to shit, and everyone was yelling, and I thought one of the new gadgets I made.. you know the one I showed you a few days ago? Yeah that one just went ‘boom’ and it destroyed a lot of the Shimmer. Sevika said I was insane, that I wasn’t thinking straight, but I was! She said I jinxed the whole mission but what can I say that’s what I’m best at! Haha Jinx jinxing a mission! Ironic ain’t it—”

You placed your hand over hers, stilling the nervous rambling. “Hey,” you said softly, meeting her red violet eyes. “You tried. That’s more than most people would’ve done. You’re not perfect, Jinx. None of us are. I mean were the ‘shitty lower class’ and not some pilties getting life handed on a golden plate.. But you care, and that counts for something.”

She didn’t respond right away, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Was Silco pissed?,” she asked, her voice sounding sore.

“At you? Probably a tiny bit.. buuut if I, your lovely guardian angel, goes with you and explain the whole situation I bet Sevika will be taking the blame by the end of the night,” you quipped, earning a small, shaky laugh from her. “He knows you better than anyone.. Silco, I mean. He knows your heart’s in the right place, even if things don’t always go according to plan.”

The two of you sat there for a while, the silence between you comforting rather than awkward. For now, she seemed calmer, her messsed up mind quieting. It wasn’t a permanent fix—it never was but it was enough for today.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said after a while, her voice soft but sincere.

“Anytime, Jinx,” you replied, leaning back with a sigh. “Now, how about we get out of here? Maybe grab something to eat before Silco summons us both for round two?”

She chuckled lightly, wiping the last of her tears away. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

With that, you stood and helped her to her feet, her hand lingering in yours for a moment longer than usual before she let go. You gently kiss her forehead, her eyebrows furrowing and making a fake gag sound before she kissed your cheek; “Go on, we’ve got some explaining to do Calamity Jane.” A smile crept onto your face as she skipped ahead, already sort of going back to her usual self. Others would think she was being ungrateful and bratty, however you know deep down somewhere in that storm of a heart and mind of hears she’s happy to have someone like you.

Someone that listens.

┊͙

© URFAVLARRY

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

I DON’T CONSENT FOR MY WRITING TO BE USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫

[inkzectz]

in your Bigger than the sky animation benrey starts out as barney? that seems so interesting lore wise? i would love to hear about what you were thinking when you animated that askdhfjlagh and the sweet voice and dreading stare? no clue what it means but curious as hell

ok im gonna go a little crazy on this because this is my biggest/favorite bc ever.

In the full vods they refer to benrey as “Barney” for the first while, it’s kind of unclear why, from Wayne’s perspective it seems he just didn’t know his name and defaulted to the character models name, and gir and Holly said they thought the joke with benrey was he was Barney but wrong, and they kept calling him the wrong name, so bipple, booper, Bentley, but eventually benrey, the name said by scorpy, stuck.

All this to say, it’s a BIG hc of mine that he was intended to be Barney (in universe) but due to being self aware was able to break off from this character he was meant to be. it’s kind of implied within the series they all have fake memories of who they are, being AI they are supposed to sort of act a certain way to maintain the immersion but at the end of the day, nothing before the game booted up really happened.

And benrey knows this, benrey knew from the beginning nothing was real, that he wasn’t human, how it ends, that no one actually dies, the works. I also headcanon that he became self aware during the AI model training stages, that the guy in charge of training his AI as Barney, broke him causing his self awareness and he was just launched into the beta game fully aware of the circumstances of his existence. I don’t think he was fully aware of how everything in game worked though.

but this to me is why he seems to constantly be changing his view of Gordon, antagonizing him one moment and then being friendly the next, his feelings about him are complex, he knows from the beginning he isn’t actually Gordon Freeman, but a guy just playing half life. Being a security guard, he’s programmed to protect Gordon with his life, but he knows this. He knows what’s compelling him to care for Gordon isn’t himself but lines of code he’s bound to, and this is why he antagonizes him. But that’s a whole different rant on its own lol

That sequence at the beginning of the bigger than the sky animatic was supposed to be a false memory, something he was supposed to think happened, but the version of Gordon he remembers isn’t real. This idea of ‘Gordon’ is a concept that only exists in these fake memories. (This is also why I think he never calls Gordon by name throughout the series, because he knows it’s not actually him (besides that one time but it doesn’t count bc it was for a bit lalala I can’t hear you))

there wasn’t much thought into the details of that part, like the coughing into the hand with the sweet voice, I really just put that bc I thought it looked dramatic and cool 😓

BUT on the topic of this big ass hc of mine, it actually is super important to a upcoming project im working on, and I realized throughout the story boarding it might need some explanation because it also has a lot of flash backs to some fake memories.

Sorry this got super rant-y I tried to keep it as short and simple as I could, I love hlvrai, I think about it literally every moment of my life and have so many hcs

[naturalbloodstainblnde]

CAL GABRIEL. HEADCANONS || ZERO DAY

cal gabriel as a boyfriend // a lil angst? // tw sh mention // gn!reader // headcanons

cal gabriel, who knows how to make himself likable. he’d be sweet, funny, maybe even a bit awkward and shy at times, but only to the extent that it benefits him. he’s not emotionally invested in the same way most people are—he’s more interested in the idea of having someone who adores him… and that “someone” happens to be you.

cal gabriel, who would share enough personal details to seem open, but he’d avoid anything too deep. if you tried to dig into his thoughts or true feelings, he’d quickly brush them off with a self-deprecating joke or change the subject.

cal gabriel, who, no matter how much he likes you, andre will always come first. he’d cancel dates or disappear without much of an explanation if andre needs him. he won’t apologise either—it’s just how it is.

cal gabriel, who would swing between affectionate and distant. one day, he’d be laying his head in your lap, even allowing you to ruffle his hair; the next, he’d barely respond to your texts or act distracted.

cal gabriel, who wouldn’t view your relationship as something permanent. he’s too focused on zero day and doesn’t plan to be around long enough to see where the relationship could possibly go.

cal gabriel, whose younger siblings simply adore you. maddie and eric see you as an honorary family member and get super hyped every time you come over.

cal gabriel, who uses play-wrestling as an excuse to get close to you, pinning you down and laughing at your attempts to fight back.

cal gabriel, who tries to show off by playing sitar for you, fingers moving effortlessly over the strings as he plays a riff that’s surprisingly good.

cal gabriel, who teaches you a few basic chords, leaning in close to adjust your fingers on the strings.

cal gabriel, who rolls his eyes when you straighten his coat collar or tuck his hair behind his ear, pretending to be annoyed while secretly enjoying the attention.

cal gabriel, who mutters “quit babying me,” when you nag him about missing meals, but still eats whatever you give him without complaint.

cal gabriel, who has something small of yours that he keeps stuffed on his pocket—a bracelet, a hair tie, or even a note you scribbled for him in class. all of these ended up in the fire.

cal gabriel, who likes to carve your initials on random surfaces around school—lockers, desks, and even the bathroom wall. but his favourite canvas was his own skin—hidden from everyone but him.

cal gabriel, who has perpetually cold hands and always slides them under your sweater or onto your neck just to hear you yelp, laughing while you smack him away.

cal gabriel, who loves it when you grab his freezing hands and hold them between yours, rubbing warmth back into his icy-ass fingers while he mumbles, “they’re not that cold” (even though they are).

cal gabriel, who sometimes doesn’t let go of your hands even after they’ve warmed up, his fingers staying intertwined with yours.

cal gabriel, who freezes for a moment when you ask him about graduation and college, his usual smirk faltering before he quickly deflects: “college? i dunno, maybe i’ll take a year off.”

cal gabriel, who avoids your gaze when you press him about the future, running a hand through his hair and mumbling, “i don’t think that far ahead,”

cal gabriel, who is sweeter than usual in the days leading up to zero day. he’s always been sweet to you, but now there’s a weird sense of urgency to it—like he’s trying to cram a lifetime of memories into just a few days. he takes you out to see a random movie “bridget jones’s diary,” you don’t even remember half of it because you guys spent most of the time making out in the back row.

cal gabriel, who presses his forehead to yours after breaking the kiss, his breathing uneven when you ask him if he’s okay, whispering a soft “yeah” before pulling you back in, like he doesn’t want to talk about it.

cal gabriel, who filmed a tape just for you, apologising to you and explaining everything he couldn’t in person. it ended with a quiet, “i love you.” but the tape doesn’t not end up in the deposit box, and as cal and andre burned their belongings, he throws it into the fire, thinking it wasn’t fair to put you through that pain.

that’s all i can come up with for now :p

[exquisink]

love on the brain, part 3/5 (bully!geto)

cw. none this chapter, time skip, modern au/college au, geto attempts to reconcile with you after some time has passed. this ended up being weirdly wholesome in spite of the premise.

wc. ~3K

one. --> two. -- three. --> next.

Concentrating on your studies should be a doozy for someone like you who has been gifted with natural intelligence. But unfortunately, you have been forced to come head-to-head with a situation you would have much rather allowed to boil over. 

Geto doesn’t want to give you that satisfaction, sadly. It’s practically in his DNA to be a thorn to your side, and you don’t know why he seems so interested in you. Apparently, he’s harbored feelings for you that are anything other than pure hate and apathy. There is still something about his confession that doesn’t sit right with you in your gut, but you’re too busy chewing on a problem on an exam you remember going over with Nanami. You don’t think you paid full enough attention to him… actually, you did, but you were more interested in the way he remained locked on you the entire time while explaining such an elementary concept in his book.

It’s an old trick in the book for women, after all. Play dumb and water themselves down to get the attention of their desired partner. Especially if partner just so happens to possess male anatomy. Men are easy to lure into a woman's trap, but you don’t want to think of Nanami like that. You genuinely feel something for him and you hope that’s not in your head. You’re certain it isn’t--at least you did at one point. You know you have a good head on your shoulders and you like to think that you give full trust in both your head and your heart. Nanami has been everything you have dreamed of in a man–patient, kind, respectful, empathetic. He worries about you like you worry about him. He has a good grasp on morals and how to treat people. He knows what’s acceptable and unacceptable. He believes in justice. He believes in the right things,  goes to school for the right reasons. He’s humble.

And then there’s Geto Suguru. Oh, how to begin to describe Geto Suguru… you have known each other since the two of you could talk practically. Or at least when you both could form a coherent thought. He’s been nothing but a jackass to you, and only well into your college years has he finally given you a half-assed explanation behind why he’s been such a dick. And for that he can’t blame you for being a little skeptical about that confession that seemed for some reason contrived. Like he’s holding back on telling you something. He’s never held back before so you wonder what he could be clinging onto for dear life. His pride is definitely one, but what else?

Is he afraid of rejection? Anyone with a human heart is afraid of such a thing, but you have rejected him–numerous times, in fact, since that day he climbed into your window like he’s a fucking acrobat or some shit. You still don’t know how he managed to make that look completely effortless. By the time you complete your exam and turn it into the professor, your mind is still utterly muddled with the enigma that is Geto Suguru now.

He’s your biggest pain in the ass. The most annoying person in your life, the worst person in your life. Always going out of his way to give you some variation of Hell depending on how merciless he felt that particular day, and not in the friendly way like between friends who are all in good fun with each other. No, not at all, it’s far from banter or friendly, he has actually made you question your own worth from time to time and when the sudden development of you two fucking each other (mostly out of frustration than anything else) sprang about you don’t know what to make of it all. Looking back on everything, maybe Geto is right on some levels, you have had the power to stop it at any time, so why didn’t you? Apart from the obvious blackmailing, you have had every reason to stop it. 

Maybe somewhere down the line you have found that you haven’t been entirely honest with yourself and you didn’t like that Geto called you out on that, that’s also true. You can concede to that. You’re not so prideful that you can’t admit when you have been in the wrong yourself. 

But that doesn’t mean there has to be any kind of development from there between the two of you.

You pause before an area sitting between the lecture rooms full of vending machines, opting to help yourself to a cherry coke zero before settling on one of the benches. You have no idea what to think about any of this. Geto… he’s NOT an ideal partner. Everything about him screams red flags in everything, everywhere all at once. 

Yet here you are, finding yourself wondering if he is really as bad as you keep making him out to be… 

In many ways, yes he is. He has found ways to keep you wrapped around his comically large finger. He’s deceptively charming and knows how to sweet talk you into getting what he wants out of you. That’s your fault for falling for it, in spite of knowing the kind of character he is.

So what are you supposed to do in a situation where he insists he wants to change or be better for you?

Geto: you look like shit

Geto: did you get hit by a bus or something?

Speak of the fucking devil. Your head snaps up to find none other than the man in question hovering over you with a can of sprite zero in his hand.

“Can I join you?” Geto asks, pointing at an empty spot on the bench.  You shrug one shoulder and scoot over a little to give him a bit more space as you pull out your laptop from your messenger bag, pulling up a document for an essay you have to write that’s due at the end of the next week.

As he takes a sip of his cold sprite, he sighs. “I’m not going to do anything if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I’d actually be surprised if you kept to your word,” you reply automatically as you formulate at least a weak introductory paragraph that you could always expand upon later–when you’re not distracted by the man who seems to think he’s completely entitled to your time, your mind, and your heart. 

“I can’t have been that bad,” he counters, sulking a little like a sad cat that almost makes you pity the man but instead you snort in response.

“Should we revisit what you did a few weeks ago–and that’s not even the only time you did that in public?”

Geto averts his gaze. “...I thought you were into it.”

“Yeah, trying to avoid you after something like that happens definitely screams ‘I’m so into it. I’m so into being humiliated right under everyone’s noses.’”

His eyes soften. “I didn’t think you saw it that way.”

“You can’t be serious. Nanami was about to punch the daylights out of you that day so you’re lucky I stepped in for you.”

“We’re still engaging with Nanami,” he mutters, running his hand through his hair. “Did you ever ask him out?”

You sigh. “...Not that it’s your business, but no. I think that ship has sailed.”

“What makes you say that?” he probes, “Who wouldn’t want to go out with you?”

“No one,” you answer, glancing at him while still typing away on your essay. “You’ve always made that pretty clear.”

You hear him sigh again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, you definitely meant it like that. I’m past it now.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. Stop prying.”

“Sorry.”

Fed up, you shut your laptop down and set it aside, twisting around to fully face him. 

“We’re not friends, Geto.”

“I know.”

“So then why do you keep coming back?”

“Because maybe I don’t want to be friends, but I don’t want to act like we aren’t part of each other’s lives, either.”

“So then, what do you want?” you ask, biting down on your lip. He brushes his fingers against your cheek, before tucking two of them under your chin and making you meet his eyes.

“I want to work out whatever this is. We owe each other that much, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, averting your gaze. Another lecture appears to have ended as a swarm of students pour out of some lecture rooms, the chattering amongst them filling the halls. 

“Don’t pay attention to anything else and keep your eyes on me,” Geto instructs, “We talked before about how you wanted this to go but we never talked about how I wanted things to go between us.”

“Then tell me–what do you want us to be< Geto?” you repeat in a more demanding tone, growing impatient by each passing second. You have a world outside of him whether he acknowledges that or not, and most of the time he doesn’t which is frustrating in itself.f

He caresses your cheeks with his thumbs, chuckling, but his laughter seems to lack humor in this case. For once, he seems to be being serious and you are at a loss of how to feel about that.

“I can sit here and spill my guts to you, but how about I let you connect the dots, for once? I think you’re pretty. I think you’re smart. I think you’re probably the most wonderful girl in the world, and I know I fucked all of that up. But if she’ll have me…”

“...She won’t,” you interject, “This is not how courting a girl works. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to torture me for years and then blackmail me into continuing to sleep with you and then drop the bomb that you have actually been in love with me for God knows how long but you didn’t know how to communicate those feelings like a normal fucking person. I’m sorry, but you didn’t charm the pants off of me or whatever you hoped for this to be between us. I’d rather us go back to ignoring the fact that we exist in each other’s lives.”

He frowns. “I know you’re lying. You’re talking straight out of your ass and you and I both know it. So why don’t you face the music, gorgeous, and accept that maybe yeah, I haven’t had the best approach to this courting stuff, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try to work this out with you. The way a normal person would.”

“A normal person wouldn’t secretly record us fucking and hold that over my head for months, for starters.”

“I know.”

“A normal person wouldn’t fondle me and finger me in public spaces around his friends for show, either.”

“I know that, too,” he concedes with a hum, as he slides in until your thighs touch, making your eyebrows furrow. “But you know what I think? I think you keep denying the fact that there is some kind of mutual attraction here and you’re just masking it through demanding you want to be treated like a lady. And I can do that, you know. Isn’t that why you’ve been pining after Kento this whole time? You thought he was going to treat you better, the way you always wanted, because you wanted to avoid the fact that the idea of me being the man to sweep you off of your feet was too much for you to bear?”

“...You’ve got to be fucking full of shit,” you sneer, “No, you must absolutely be full of shit if you actually believe any of that is true. I liked Nanami because I liked everything about Nanami. He’s not your rebound or whatever it is you want to think he is. But it wasn’t going to go anywhere so I stopped hoping for more between us. I have other things to focus on than things like that.”

“Oh come on,” he quips in that smooth tone of his that makes you want to knee him in the dick for thinking that could actually work on you. (Sometimes it does though, like in this very instance, which is actually making you want to kick yourself now because aren’t you supposed to be holding your own in this battle right now!?) “You know I’m right. I usually am.”

“You hang around Gojo too much,” you retort, scowling, “So what? Can you blame me for wanting to be treated like a person? You failed to meet that requirement, so sue me for seeking that in somebody else.”

“So in this weird, unique, quirky way of yours, are you saying that you’ve been fighting feelings for me all of this time by denying me access to you for this long? You really did all of that to torture me when we could be jumping each other’s bones right this second?”

“Seriously, Geto? I’m not that easy and you know it.”

“Nowhere did I insinuate that you are easy, pretty,” he quips with a little smirk twitching on his lips. “I’m still taking you out to dinner first.”

“Oh, like that’s going to work,” you scoff but you find yourself hiding a smile behind the palm of your hand.

“But it diiiiiiiiiiiid,” he replies in a singsong tone. “Hey, don’t hide your pretty face from me. So let me take you to dinner and we can make up for lost time because you were too damn stubborn and prideful?”

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this,” you mutter as you lower your hands. “But fine, I’ll go on a real date with you. As long as you swear that you pay for everything and hold open the door for me and you actually ask before doing anything I might not be okay with and–!”

“--you think I don’t know how to treat a woman on a date?”

“You didn’t know how to treat a woman in sensual scenarios before this.”

His face falls.

“Touche. So then, just so we can clear the air  between us, and because I just want to know…  you never actually liked Nanami, did you? You just liked the idea of someone treating you like that?”

“Like what?”

“You know, like a strong, independent woman.”

“...Well yeah, except he also seems like the kind of man who could provide. And be a real man. And not be a wuss who didn’t know how to communicate his true feelings for someone. You know, be a real fucking person.”

Geto makes a sound. 

“...Damn, okay. Touche again.”

You find yourself giggling but then stop yourself. “Stop making me laugh. I’m still pissed at you.”

“Rightfully so, pretty, but I can’t help the fact that I’m hilarious.”

Another laugh escapes your lips again. “Stop it!” 

“Or what? I don’t get to hear your gorgeous laugh which is what made me fall in love with you in the first place?”

Something makes your heart skip a beat.

“What?”

“Yeah,” he admits with a sheepish look on his face–something rare to see in someone like Geto who otherwise keeps himself composed and confident and collected and like he’s this untouchable person. He’s so far from that though like anyone else is. You don’t know why he tries so hard to seem like nothing touches him when that can’t be further from the truth. “I’m in love with you, pretty.”

“...That’s quite the revelation.”

“What? Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little,” you admit, now with you being the sheepish, shy one. 

“Well, you’ll get to find out just how deep my love runs for you when I charm the pants off of you on our first date.”

“...Ugh, that was so fucking corny, even for you.”

“Did it work, though?”

“Actually yeah. Didn’t think you could be such a Romeo.”

“And you are my sun, Juliet.”

“You’re gross,” you grimace, shaking your head. “Alright, finalize everything for that date and we’ll see if you’re telling the truth or not, Suguru.”

“Oh, God, finally, you’re calling me Suguru. I was getting real worried there for a while.”

“That really mattered that much to you?” you find yourself asking in spite of already knowing the answer, but what you really don’t expect is his clap-back. 

“Pretty girl, you matter that much to me. You matter to me, period. I’m sorry I didn’t go about it in the… wisest way, but then again, was I ever really known for making wise decisions?” Geto seems lost in thought for a moment before bringing himself back to the present moment. “Don’t answer that, because I’m pretty sure officially asking you out is the wisest I’ve ever made. So that’s at least one of those under my belt.”

“You’re impossible,” you snort, rolling your eyes–this time, and you can’t even believe it yourself, it’s in a more endearing way. “Can’t believe you went along with the oldest pipeline in the book thinking that’s going to earn you my heart, you big doofus.”

“The whole being mean to a girl because I like her? It still worked, didn’t it? Just maybe not in the way I was hoping for it to, it got pretty rocky.”

“Naturally, all things considered. You were a total dick.”

“True, I won’t argue with that.”

You don’t know what’s getting to you about this. You can’t believe what you’re being pulled to do, but you’re actually finding yourself… charmed. You can’t even fight the grin on your face as you lean in to press a soft kiss to his cheek, catching him off-guard. He’s staring at you in a slight daze, like he’s in just as much disbelief that you actually initiated some form of affection… and toward him as if he hasn’t displayed some level of growth throughout all of this. You have to commend him for it. 

Even if it still feels like you’re giving him a free pass for decades of torture, maybe you can make him compensate for that in a multitude of other ways. You are already conjuring a list in your mind of all the ways he can do so. Most of it is absolutely doable and not completely out of pocket. Some are definitely borderline petty but you can save those particular items for when you really need to put him in his place and you’re definitely going to need to do that not just now but in the future as well. Some things just don’t switch off in a person, like Geto’s perpetual need to be humbled.

“So, again, just so we’re clear, that’s a yes?” 

“Yes, Suguru. I’m going out with you.”

He rests his hand on the area where you kissed him.

“Oh my god, you said yes,” he breathes.

You nudge his shoulder. “You dope.”

[sinful-lanterns]

Not me thinking about teacher Raven and reader getting caught.

Particularly imagining Raven being half way through whipping her poor little art teacher's butt nice and read, when Principal Chief and secretary Nightingale walk in on them. The pair both being stunned to silence for a moment before the door slams behind them, the sound of the lock that Raven forgot to latch closing as well.

Suddenly you're being held down more harshly, as they make Raven start over from the beginning and tell them ALL about how you've been coming to her between classes to have your overactive brain wiped clean by her whip. The two women watching with masked interest when Raven grabs your hair and makes you describe how you want to be treated like this, and all the ways it makes you feel good.

After the spanking is over, Nightingale "confiscates" your panties before they both leave and you have to spend the rest of the day commando. And then... nothing? Days, weeks, over a month goes by.

Then suddenly you're being called to the Principal's office. You're not sure whats happening, you haven't done anything wrong, that they aren't alrsady aware of. But you go, cause obviously you can't refuse.

Imagine you're surprise when you walk in to see Chief and Nightingale standing on either side of Superintendent Langley as she lounges back in the Chief's chair. Her desk covered in various shapes and sizes of paddles, floggers, restraints, vibrators, straps, and over course a lovely leather collar and matching leash that suspiciously looks like the thin delicate chokers both Chief and Nightingale wear as well.

~🐁

CW: Workplace sex and relations, spanking, orgy, exhibition, Reader is a bit of a masochist

My exhibitionist side is screaming at the idea of getting caught by Chief and Nightingale 😵‍💫

Just imagining Raven jolting in horror when her boss and assistant catch her in the act of spanking you. The sight is unmistakable as you’re bent over her desk with your skirt pulled down, your ass all exposed and tender while Raven is standing over you with a whip. Before Raven could even sputter an explanation, Nightingale locks the classroom door and Chief holds you down. Somehow, the situation de-escalated and escalated at the same time, because Chief and Nightingale weren’t just mad, they were mad you were doing this without them.

Cue Chief telling Raven to spank you again. Harder. Faster. Nightingale tilts your head up to look at Chief in the eye while thick, fat tears roll down your face. Your eyes look so pretty curtained by wet lashes, and the more you sniffle, the more turned on Raven, Chief and Nightingale get. After that little encounter however, nothing really happens between you and your boss. Raven hasn’t been punished either, so you wondered if they were gonna let your little escapade slide…

Nope. About a week later you are called into the Principal’s office and see Chief, Nightingale, and superintendent Langley standing around Chief’s desk. Raven is nowhere to be seen, so this appears to be a punishment only reserved for you, with various paddles, whips, flogs, and even gags scattered among the desk that seemed perfectly tailored for your little masochistic tendencies.

“So you’re the little one getting spanked and toyed with by the other teachers,” Langley hums, picking up a paddle and running her hand over the surface. She gives the paddle a rough smack against her palm, the sound echoing across Chief’s office and making both her and Nightingale flinch. “Such behavior is unacceptable. You should know better that you must submit yourself to your superiors first before engaging with your fellow teachers. Such behavior calls for appropriate punishment.”

Langley smirks while Chief and Nightingale beckon for you to come closer, the blonde woman making it clear that her version of punishment would be a lot rougher than Raven or Chameleon’s.

“Now bend over.”

[l-in-the-light]

Does Law hide himself and his emotions under his hat? 🤠

Yes, he does indeed. And he hides much more under his hat than just his emotions! Let's take a look:

Here, he pulls the brim of his hat lower to hide more of his face, especially eyes. It's widely speculated he was crying here or at least tearing up. I agree with that, mostly because this other scene seems to literally spell it out for us:

Look at his shirt :) Seems when Law is crying he wants to cover it up or hide somewhow, for no one to see. He's clearly not alright with being openly vulnerable, especially when it comes to showing his emotions.

If I would take a guess as to why, it's probably because crying makes him feel helpless and like there's nothing he can do (the whole Flevance wipeout and Law being unable to save anyone, not even his sister; being locked up in a chest and silenced by a spell during Cora-san's sacrifice; during both situations he cried a lot) that's why he tries to hide his face at least, to take a semblance of control, even if just to make sure the world doesn't see him crying. That being said, it's not a perfect explanation, because in his defeat on Winner Island he does not cry. So either he already accepted at that point that this will be the place where he dies (but why would he accept that, right? ;)), or my guess is wrong, welp.

It's not surprising that as the result of this habit of his we never see adult Law openly crying. Not when Mingo or Blackbeard beat up his ass, not when Luffy died in his fight with Kaido. The closest to crying is the scene with Sengoku up there, and also this one:

You can see tears forming in his eyes if you look closely.

But like I said, crying isn't the only thing Law hides. He actually doesn't express emotions much at all. Sadness, crying, honest smiles (Law's smiles is a curious subject deserving it's own study honestly lol), no expressions showing he's pleased, content etc. The only emotions he starts showing more openly is anger and worry, ever since he made that alliance with Luffy. It's not really uncommon for people with PTSD to mostly feel anger, it's kinda psychologically accurate.

He also hides his eyes under his hat when he's bluffing. Here, in raid on Onigashima, he claims he will do one of his surgery-type attacks, but two pages later he actually used Takt instead to throw huge boulders on Kaido :) part of the strategy.

His face is often obscured by his hat when he's hiding something or lying about something. "After sucking up the to the government you wouldn't screw it all up by making a mess now"... well, except that is exactly what Law was planning to do, he became a warlord just so he can waltz into the SAD room and destroy it and the story tells us this was literally the only reason why he wanted to be a warlord in the first place, lol.

Here, when he says everything is conducted "in secret to avoid naval attention", he's kinda selling Strawhats a half-lie. We know already that Doflamingo, the king of the underground, was supplying the Government with weapons. In other words, World Government knows about the underground deals, allows it and participates in them, when it suits their interests. That's also why Stussy, a CP0 agent, is also part of the underground. Morgans, our economic newspaper publisher, is also involved with underground and at the same time is cooperating with Government as well. So yeah, Government does know about those deals.

His eyes are hidden also when he takes the blame for what Luffy and Zoro did (yes, it's true he got exposed as well, but that's just the consequence of what Luffy and Zoro first did and only because he tried to cover up their tracks!).

And this "hiding eyes with his hat" trend is consistent ever since Law first appeared in the manga. In fact, already in Sabaody when he thanks Luffy for "showing him something interesting", his eyes are hidden by the shadow of his hat. We know that this is not what he's actually thanking Luffy for, he's thanking him for defending Hachi, the fishman, when people were basically saying he spreads diseases and is disgusting, and moved away from him etc. Because this reminded Law of all the hospital trips Cora-san forced him to go through as a child, and people's reactions to amber lead syndrome's symptoms.

This consistency in Law's portrayal (especially with the little trick in hiding his emotions - Oda already must have had reason for obscuring Law's eyes in this moment above, but not in any other one! And this connects to Law's backstory) is the reason why I believe Oda had planned a lot about Law ever since he introduced him, despite the fact he claims he invented Supernovas on the spot. It's just way too consistent for me to believe he had no plan for him yet.

Anyway, if you followed what I have been saying, you can already guess that in this shot, when Law declares that "he wishes he could let Luffy do whatever he wants", he's bullshitting everyone. He does not wish for that in the slightest, lol.

There are much more examples of that in the manga and even if I wished I wouldn't be able to cover them all, haha. But if any of you feel like checking it out, do it and pay attention to Law's eyes - are they hidden by the shadow of his hat? If so, you can guess he's not completely honest, is withholding information, has a secret plan set in motion, or is hiding his emotions.

At the end of Punk Hazard and at end of Wano, Law's eyes are hidden as well, which is why I know he's hiding something, I just don't know what exactly. People were suspcious already when this Wano chapter first came out and I would say for a good reason! There's really no point in hiding Law's eyes when he's talking about "North East being the most direct route" unless he had a completely different reason for choosing that direction. What could it be? Your guess is as good as mine. And of course we all know he hides his knowledge level about "man marked by flames".

Now that he lost his hat, he will be left really vulnerable. But at least his lovely ruffled hair will be unleashed to the world in it's full glory ✨

[sinsmockingbird]

Hello hello I hope this ask reaches you well because I'm very not well thinking about rich alpha ptn women aka Eirene Chelsea and Cabernet share a lil omega together 🥵🥵

You're a freshly recruited omega who's responsible for working in the MBCC's cafeteria. The job is simple, you stay behind counters to serve the Sinners their meals and wait until they leave to clean the area. The bureau pays you well, enough to make ends meet every months but in your mind, you know you can achieve more than this.

In the first few weeks you do job perfectly, and even make friends with some Sinners. One of them is the famous Cabernet Franc, daughter of one of the riches families in Eastside. Cabernet clearly has an interest in you, her lust keeps growing stronger and stronger but before she can sweep you away, you magically disappear from your job in the cafeteria. When she discovers that you've resigned to work for the Quinn Industry, she knows she has to have a personal talk with the Eirene Quinn.

Chelsea thought she found you first, a naive, innocent and unmated omega who's working hard to earn money in the bureau. Immediately she takes you under her wings, telling you to be her mate and she will provide you an endless amount of money! When you reluctantly refuse, saying that you would rather be financially independent and that the Quinn CEO has already promised you a position in her company, Chelsea is absolutely furious. How dare the woman steal you from her?

On the other hand, Eirene is very pleased that she has the upper hand in keeping you to herself. You come to her cell all by your own, personally asking her about the vacant positions in her company without fears that she may tear your life into threads. Your determination and willingness to have a stable job in her company amused her, but it was your sweet odor of purity attracted her. It didn't take much effort to trick you into working as her "private secrectary", you were just so oblivious to the alpha's hungry stare. Eirene is the woman of conquer, so when she sees something she wants, she will get it. But why do you come into her office, according to her request to give you a brief explanation of work (a lie ofc), with two angry alphas follow quietly behind?

As a result, you are trapped in a same room with 3 intimidating alphas who're trying to kill each other to win over you. You're freaked out at the scene before you, wanting to run away and hide. But before you can take one step away from their gaze Chelsea makes an offer: "Why don't we share this little one?" The other two look at each other in silence, then nod their head in agreement.

The only one who seems to disagree is you, though. Being mated to not one, but three alphas at the same time, how can your body withstand the rough treatment? You try to run again, only to be caught in Cabernet's vines and being tied up in an embarrassing position: legs spread out on the head, hands on your head, immobile. Three pair of eyes stare at your clothed body making you instinctively squirm, their pheromones being spread you cause your heat to overcome your senses, then in a blink of an eye you are begging them to touch you desperately.

Half an hour later you have Chelsea behind your back, thrusting in and out of your ass and playing with your nipples, Eirene on her knees in front pushing her cock into your mouth, and Cabernet hungrily taking your pussy. Although the alphas still hate each other, they all decide that pleasing the omega together is their priority and tone down the hatred. Why would they fight when they have a needy girl to dote on like this? By the time each woman has their full, you've passed out from exhaustion and overstimulation, leaving to clean up the wet mess on the bed, full of their cum. Eirene plugs your pussy up, telling the other two that whoever your first child is can have you to themselves for an entire week.

They never back down from a challenge, so prepare yourself to be absolutely ravaged in the next months...

Oh god, this is so hot. Like I can completely see Cabernet getting pussy drunk off you. She's eating you out, her little Omega, like your a fucking feast, and you are! She would happily eat you out for hours, not caring if you've long passed out, she's just addicted to your taste, and you can't blame her! She'd be fucking/humping her cock into the bed, and she doesn't need any stimulation on her pretty cock, because tasting your cum is enough to get her off.

Chelsea is pathetic when it comes to you, her shared Omega. She can be possessive, wanting to mark you up with her teeth and nails, to try and show claim that your hers- even though she does share you with two other women. She's the one mainly fucking you with her cock, giving you endless creampies, because she doesn't ever want to pull out of your pretty pussy.

Eirene is probably the most dominant out of the three, and she's the one who sees you the most, considering you work with her. Being her private secretary means you're usually under her desk in her office, having her cock shoved down your through, making you suck her off and cockwarm her with your mouth. She also loves fucking you against the wall of windows in her office, making you stare at the bustling street below while she's fucking you rough and fast and staining your soaked pussy with her cum.

@sea-lanterns You'll love this because it has your wife, Cabernet.

[d011zk1ll]

Sdv creature au where most of the town are freaky lil creatures cause I'm A SUCKERRR for that shit (some may not be creatures, but instead descendants of gods, or mythological hero's because I like to mix it up)

(there will be one human in both bachelors and bachelorettes but they're blessed by Yoba so they don't notice, if that makes sense)

I'll do marriagables first and if anyone is interested I'll do the rest of the villagers, write or draw this.

Tw for child abuse in sebs!

Farmer: near direct descendant of yoba. Because of this, we don't see them for what they really are. It's kind of like, since we're mostly human, our Yoba genes come in clutch so we don't get traumatized by this out of the ordinary ass town. We're kinda magic and shit.. lowk

Bachelors!

Elliot is obvious. A siren! He has tons of broken washed up boats n shit on the beach, who do you think lead them there? Ho eats them sailors after luring them in.

Shane would be one of the few humans. He's from out of the valley, and although his AUNT is from the valley, he isn't. He doesn't really care though, he's too wrapped up in his own depression to notice the cracks in the facade he's been blessed with.

Harvey is. Some sort of caladruis. It's from a myth about a bird with healing abilities. It takes the sickness into itself, healing the person and then sort of. Disperses it? (The wiki is here.) I thought this was fitting since he's a doctor

Sam is definitely a descendant of Apollo, probably on Ken's side. Between the music, the atmosphere he gives off, and all that I know about Apollo as a Devotee, I feel like he would be a descendant. (This also allows him to match his potential pairing, of Penny as you'll see later)

Seb would be a ghost. Like. Look at him. He died at the hands of his biological dad, after Robin left his abusive ass for Demetrius. That's why he doesn't like people, and doesn't exactly trust his new father figure.

Alex kind of gives centaur. They're kind of sporty, between the fact that they can like run, and seem agile as hell. It makes sense. Especially with George being the complete opposite and wheelchair bound, I just kinda feel like it fits?

Bachelorettes

Haley is a fairy, or I suppose fae? From what I've seen, they're friendly and kind to humans, but can also be cruel or unforgiving. I kind of think that matches with the way she's mean to you at the start, but warms up to you.

Emily is also a fae. With them being sisters, and the fact shes very earthy and spiritual, I think it pars up :3

Abigail is obviously a witch, that one doesn't even need explanation I think. I think the wizard and her mother, (a potential witch) hooked up and Pierre doesn't know because caroline settles it with the witch in a Rapunzel esc situation, where Caroline offers to pass all her true powers onto Abigail for the witch to take (hence why Caroline doesn't like Abigail going to the mines because it's close to the witches hut.) in return for Pierre's memory erased.

Leah is a kitsune! They've been said to be able to create stunning artwork, and although they have a tricky nature I think that plays off with Leah in a funny, joking way. She insinuates as a joke from nearly the beginning, "hey neighbor, we both live outside the town. Does that mean something?" Which is very. Tricky? In a funny way.

Maru is some sort of dead ass plague doctor. Idk what it is, but I just feel like between being similar to her half brother in the way she's dead, and the fact she works in the science field, I think being a plague doctor who has adapted with the times would fit her. I also like the idea of her pretending to be a man during the living times, only to die undiscovered.

Penny is similar to Sam, being a descendant of Athena, her mother would technically be one too but we see in instances like the Odyssey, how she can be harsh with "abandoning" her followers when they've truly messed up. Maybe Pam challenged Athena, turning to Yoba out of spite and sticking with it.

If you guys have any better ideas, or I got anything wrong PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me, I'm all about authenticity here and I'd love to hear it all!

[erimeows]

Your Fake Girlfriend

James Wilson knows Gregory House all too well.

Of course, ‘all too well’ merely means ‘better than anyone else’. So, on occasion, Wilson is still susceptible to the pranks and lies that House spins so well, but he’s developed a talent for detecting them most of the time, and House’s newest tall tale is one that Wilson clocks immediately as fake. 

A new girlfriend.

It starts with House dropping by his office first thing in the morning, looking unusually cheery with two coffees and a suspicious grin- and, notably, early to work instead of trudging in forty five minutes late in wrinkled clothes and disarray. 

“A coffee,” Wilson starts as House sets one of the drinks on his desk. “How kind of you.”

The last time this happened, Wilson ended up high on speed because he had predicted House slipping something in the drink and opted to take the one House hadn’t handed him- and House had predicted Wilson’s prediction and put the drugs in the drink he had kept for himself. 

Hook, line, and sinker. Not an unusual occurrence with Wilson in regards to House. 

Wilson stares at the coffee, mulling over his next move. He doesn’t want to get played again. But if this is a play, House will surely have calculated for all of his possible responses… Maybe even drugged both of the drinks. So, Wilson takes the coffee he’s handed and takes a sip of it. House appears neither disappointed nor excited, so Wilson assumes that whatever the hell the man is up to this time has nothing to do with the coffee itself. The coffee is merely a byproduct of his pleasant mood, which Wilson sure is a byproduct of whatever this new scheme is.

Wilson sets his pen down on his desk and peers up at House, waiting for the punchline… Or to pass out face first on his desktop because the coffee was laced with sleeping pills, or to grope the nearest attractive human being- House- because it was laced with speed again. 

No such thing happens. 

There’s silence for a moment, of course, but when House is conniving, he gets so overenthusiastic about it that he can’t help but blab to Wilson. At this point, Wilson doesn’t even have to ask, just offering an unamused look as he sits in wait for whatever chaos is about to come. 

“I met a girl,” House announces, dropping into the chair opposite to Wilson as if he owns the damn place- just like he always does.

Wilson blinks. Jealousy surges through him, hot and unbearable where it runs through his veins. He loves House. He’s always loved House. The fact isn’t one that he can deny, not after all the years they’ve spent playing this game of cat and mouse. He even conjectures that House returns his feelings, but it seems like they’re always in the right place- next to each other- at the wrong time- always, always, always. There’s a lot of uncertainty between the two of them, but the one thing that Wilson is certain of is that he loves House.

If he didn’t love House, he would have kicked the man to the curb years ago. 

And it isn’t abnormal for House to ‘meet a girl’. Stacy Warner, Lisa Cuddy, and a seemingly perpetual string of women that are interested in House despite his foul attitude, debilitating chronic pain, and pertinacious insistence on dosing himself half to death with vicodin. 

“Is that so?” Wilson finally forces himself to ask, swirling the coffee around in the cup held in his hand, feigning the carefully practiced nonchalance that has gotten him through the last decade of being in love with the menace sitting in front of him. 

“Mhm,” House sips his own coffee, watching Wilson over the lid with a self-assured smirk that makes Wilson shift uncomfortably in his chair. “Met her at the coffee shop last week- she works there, takes orders through the drive through. She’s so stunning that I thought she was joking when she said she found me fascinating; red hair, green eyes, absolute pillow of an ass.”

Wilson just nods. He can’t tell if the explanation is making him suspicious or even more jealous. 

“Fascinating,” He says. “And you said you met her at the drive through of a coffee shop?”

House doesn’t miss a beat before responding.

“Yup. I ordered my coffee and she wrote her number on my cup. Called her and went on our first date last week. She didn’t even blink at the cane, liked me so much that she made it official the other day.”

Wilson huffs a small laugh despite himself. The story is too good, too perfect, too polished in the ways that House’s lies usually aren’t unless he’s trying to get caught. 

Wilson knows House, at least for the most part. Knows when House is telling the truth, knows when he’s lying, knows when he’s baiting- and this, Wilson decides, is 100% bait. 

But, he plays along, curious as to where it’s going.

“And what’s her name?”

“Uh,” Ah. A pause. That confirms it; House is lying, and he hadn’t even thought to give his fake girlfriend a name until now. “Annie.”

“Are you bringing Annie to dinner on Friday?” He asks, picking his pen back up and continuing his previous work; annotating a new oncological study that just came out. Lately, they’ve been doing Friday night dinners at Wilson’s house. They mostly consist of takeout since Wilson is too depressed to bother with cooking, but they’re nice, because House is there. He prays to God that House won’t start missing them just to keep up with this ‘girlfriend’ lie of his. “You are still coming, right?”

House’s eyes narrow a fraction. As if he can’t tell whether Wilson is testing him or if it’s a genuine question.

“Maybe. She’s got an art thing that day; gallery opening, very exclusive. But she did say she wants to meet you.”

Of course she did. It takes everything in Wilson not to burst into laughter. 

“Why, I’m flattered,” Wilson says as cooly as he possibly can, and he swears he sees the tiniest twitch in House’s jaw. “Tell her that if her ‘art thing’ falls through, she’s more than welcome to come to dinner.”

“Sure.”

With that, House tosses his empty coffee cup at the trash can in the corner of the room. It doesn’t land in the center of the basket, instead hitting the rim and falling to the floor. House doesn’t bother picking it up, just standing from his chair with his cane in hand and walking to the door. 

The moment he’s gone, Wilson leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. 

A fake girlfriend.

He doesn’t know House’s motives, but if it’s a game House wants? Wilson has no issue playing it. 

~

‘Annie’ does not, in fact, come to dinner that Friday. 

It becomes a game. Over the next few weeks, House drops constant, casual references to the fictional woman yet never brings her around. She likes vintage wine. She hates House’s bike but loves his piano. She has a cat named Ellie that sheds fur all over House’s leather jacket. Wilson nods along, all while knowing that House prefers cheap wine, would never entertain anyone who disparaged his beloved motorcycle, and hasn’t shown up to work with a single strand of cat hair on him the entire time he’s been ‘dating’ Annie. 

Wilson listens, nods, and smiles when appropriate. Never challenges it. Never pushes to meet her or to see a photo or any other evidence that she actually exists. He makes no comment when House shows up in a shirt that perfectly matches his blazer for once, doesn’t raise an eyebrow when House declines two opportunities to argue with Cuddy in favor of ‘texting Annie’ only for Wilson to look over and see that he’s actually just playing Pacman on his cellphone. 

Slowly but surely, the lie starts to crack around the edges, because House is getting bored with it- and if there is anything House hates, it’s being bored. His stories start contradicting themselves; Annie is vegan on Monday but goes to a butcher’s shop with House so they can cook a steak dinner at his apartment on Friday, Annie suddenly starts to prefer craft beer over the vintage wine House had described her fancying just weeks earlier, and Annie develops a sudden fear of cats.

Wilson doesn’t mention it.

He just waits, and after more than a month of their game, Wilson finds House sitting in his office when he walks into work for the day.

He laughs at the sight, stopping in the doorway as he stares at his coworker. 

House looks utterly miserable with the bags underneath his icy blue eyes even more prominent than usual and a prominent frown on his face. The jeans he’s in are wrinkled and the Metallica t-shirt he’s wearing is in even worse shape, not to mention the mismatched socks that are peeking out of his sneakers, which are notably rested atop Wilson’s perfectly polished desktop.

Wilson can’t even be mad about it. Not when house is sitting there with such palpable dissatisfaction written into every one of his angular features, bouncing a tennis ball against the wall and catching it each time it flies back at him before repeating it. 

“You’re not going to ask,” House says, not even looking up at Wilson as he walks into the office and shuts the door behind him. 

The blinds are closed. That much, Wilson is thankful for. 

He didn’t expect this fucked up game of House’s to turn into a full on confrontation. Yet, here they are, at six in the morning, in Wilson’s office when the rest of the hospital is still quiet. There’s the occasional shuffle of nurses outside, but the patients are sleeping in their beds and there’s hardly any other staff around.

The perfect, intimate setting for House to corner him in. 

Though Wilson could turn around and walk right out, he has a hunch that House won’t be leaving his office until they do whatever this is. So, he sets his suitcase down by the door, locks the door behind him, and leans back against the glass frame with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Ask what?” He responds, sighing the words, his exasperation evident in his tone. 

“I’ve been in a rotten mood for a week,” House complains, as if he isn’t always in some sort of rotten mood, but Wilson also knows what he means. For the last few days, House has been dropping a whole different set of hints; taking more Vicodin than usual, snapping at his fellows at every turn, stomping around like someone shoved a stick up his ass. Wilson has been ignoring it, which clearly wasn’t the right thing to do based on how upset House looks about the failed bid for Wilson’s attention. “Annie dumped me.”

So, he’s still attempting to keep up the lie. Wilson had assumed this was the part where House would get fed up with him not figuring it out and confess the truth to clear the air between them. 

Apparently, Wilson had assumed wrong.

House is going to keep this up until Wilson makes it clear that he knows… Great. 

“Did she now?”

“You don’t care,” House spits, almost incredulous.

He throws the tennis ball again, but this time, he lets it fly past him when it bounces back. It hits the floor and rolls towards the office bookshelf, though neither man pays it any mind. 

“I do care,” Wilson retorts and stands up straight so he can place his hands on his hips and shoot a pointed glare in House’s direction. “Just not about your fake girlfriend. It’s a little hard to care about someone who doesn’t even exist.”

Thick, heavy silence falls over them. Wilson just stares at House, waiting for him to explain himself, and House just stares at him, unblinking. Wilson sees a multitude of emotions cross the other man’s face in the microexpressions that he’s gotten so good at analyzing over the years; shock, confusion, fear, anger, frustration. 

“How long have you known?” 

The question is barely above a whisper. 

House won’t look at him now, instead pulling his feet off the top of Wilson’s desk and putting them flat on the floor underneath them. His hand is reaching for his cane so he can twirl it around; an anxious tick that House won’t admit he has, because according to him, he doesn’t get anxious. Another one of his many lies. 

“Pretty much the whole time,” Wilson shrugs and strolls over to stand in front of the desk House is sitting at, shoving his hands into the pockets of his white coat. “You like brunettes, sometimes the occasional blonde. Never redheads. You told me once that you think they’re, uh, what was it… Soulless aliens?”

“You haven’t seen all the redheaded hookers I’ve slept with,” House retorts.

Another lie.

Everybody lies. But God, if Gregory House doesn’t do it all the fucking time.

“Seriously. This whole thing is getting ridiculous,” Wilson allows his eyes to fall shut and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger. “Why did you do this?”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Hell, how did you figure it out?”

“You tried way too hard, House. Openly revealing something about yourself without having to be prodded was strike one. The description you gave of ‘Annie’ being someone you’d never actually date- boring, artistic, redheaded coffee shop worker- strike two. The stories were way too consistent at first, because you’re scarily good at keeping things consistent when you lie, and then when I didn’t notice? You got sloppy and tried to make the lies obvious enough for me to pick up on, because you really thought I had no idea. Strike three.”

“So, you knew I was lying to you and you let me keep doing it,” House scoffs and leans back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling, doing anything he can to avoid Wilson’s gaze. “Why? Were you just enjoying watching me make a fool of myself?”

“No,” Wilson answers, his voice a little sharper than he intends for it to be, laced with years of frustration. “I was waiting for you to tell me why you felt the need to do all of this.”

“Maybe I just felt like messing with you.”

So many lies over the last few weeks. Wilson wonders what it’s all for. Deep down, part of him knows. It’s a bid for attention. A bid for love. Just like everything else House does. 

“Maybe,” Wilson starts. He could drop it there, shrug this whole thing off. They could laugh about it and go back to normal, but Wilson doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to keep doing this. So, he decides to push this thing they have, perhaps until it breaks- if that’s what will finally get him the truth he’s so desperately wanted all these years. “Maybe I’d believe that if you didn’t look at me so expectantly every time you mentioned her.”

“The hell do you mean by that?”

“I mean that this time, you can’t do what you always do and backtrack by convincing me that this is just one of your pranks. I mean that you didn’t bother telling anyone else about your fake girlfriend, which must mean that this- this scheme of yours was contrived especially for me. I mean that I know you only did all this because you…”

Wilson trails off, averting his gaze, able to feel the heat rising in his cheeks. House only did this out of love- albeit a fucked up, toxic sort of love that only House seems to be able to make seem appealing. 

“So what, is this your big realization? Gonna pull a me and storm out of the room with your differential diagnosis? Go share it with the team?” Finally, House stands from his chair, cane in hand, and circles the desk. Wilson turns to face him, swallowing a lump of anxiety as House invades his personal space. And for the first time in weeks, Wilson looks at him. Really looks at him. He looks exhausted and anxious and hurt as he snaps in a way that he hasn’t in years. “You saw through my pathetic little ploy, gold star for Dr. Wilson! Now you can go back to pretending that you don’t care about how I feel.”

“You wanted me to care. You wanted me to be jealous,” He whispers, and there’s no answer- just a forlorn gaze and poorly concealed regret. “Why?”

“Because you never care… Because you’re never jealous,” The confession is barely above a whisper, more like a bitter hiss. House’s cane falls to the floor as he places his hands on Wilson’s shoulders, digging his fingers so hard into them through his clothes that it hurts. “You go on dates, flirt with nurses, you get married- repeatedly, might I add- and I pretend it’s all fine, and I watch you walk away each and every time, but you know what? I care. And I’m jealous. And maybe I wanted you to feel the same way for once.”

“You could’ve said something,” Wilson weakly argues, and House’s grip on his shoulders softens, but doesn’t leave entirely. 

“If you noticed, you could’ve said something,” House leans closer. Wilson shouldn’t panic- shouldn’t fawn- they’ve been friends for so long that House being close to him should be familiar. And it is familiar. Yet, he finds that after all these years, it still makes his heart pound. The scent of House’s aftershave, the peppery curls of his hair, the furrow in his brow, the iciness in his gaze. “But you didn’t. You never do. You just… Let me do this.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to say anything.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, seriously- how was I supposed to know that you wanted me to say anything?” Wilson demands, because Gregory House isn’t a man who hesitates to go after what- or who- he wants. He hadn’t considered it. Part of Wilson has always thought that House might return his feelings, but he convinced himself long ago that House didn’t want to cross that line. Why would House want to cross that line? “You act like you don’t care, you push and prod and lie and run away, and you expect everyone else to chase you? And now that I’m not, it’s pissing you off?”

“Yes!” House yells, the echo of his voice bouncing off the walls of the office, but Wilson doesn’t flinch nor does he back away. 

Instead, he takes a step forward. 

They’re closer than ever, the air between them familiar yet charged with something dangerous, something different and risky that they’ve never dared tackle like this before.

“I do care, by the way,” And instead of thinking better of it, Wilson reaches out, wrapping his arms around House’s body and pulling him close. House tenses at first, only to melt into him seconds later, arms wrapping around Wilson’s frame and clutching the back of his white coat in return. House rests his head against Wilson’s shoulder and lets out a shaky sigh. “I’ve always cared, but I’m not going to chase after you or fight you just to prove that.”

“Then what are you going to do, Wilson? Nothing?” He mutters.

“No, not nothing. What I’m going to do is tell you the truth and pray that, for once in your life, you’ll tell me the truth in return,” Wilson pauses, pressing a kiss into House’s hair and holding him tight. “I’ve been in love with you for years, and if you’re done playing your twisted little games, maybe we can stop pretending that we don’t care about each other.”

Slowly, House nods. And it’s more than enough.

[notanothermacdennisblog]

i gotta talk about frank v russia cuz i was rewatching it again and whoever said it was a fever dream of an episode is so right, there's just so many implications to dissect i didn't catch them all at first.

the beginning of the episode sets up dennis's motivation to pass the effort of helping everyone around him onto someone else... by him putting an enormous amount of effort into finding normal dates and teaching mac and dee to be normal enough to hold onto normal people (i can't imagine how this would keep mac and dee from bothering him tho cuz they'd just come back to him asking for more relationship help, dating a normal person doesn't make relationship issues go away). the enthusiasm he shows when checking in with them after the dates shows this amount of effort was worth it to him. one could argue it's because deep down he cares about their growth, he mistakenly thinks this will get them to leave him alone, or that he's attracted to the thrill of the ruse. mayb it's some combination of all three, but given that he could have always just ignored them or left, to me his hard on for control and deception points to the latter for the most part.

which further explains his flimsy justification of catfishing mac just to "get him out of the apartment." like if that was his sole goal there's a million other ways to accomplish that. ways that don't include: creating a profile guaranteed to get mac to match with him, chatting long enough to establish an emotional bond (altho that's not the hard part when mac falls for anybody who shows him a modicum of affection), and buying and sending him remote controlled anal beads as some sort of complicated signal system when simply texting "meet me at the motel" would suffice.

we're talking about a man who started a cult just to get mac to stop eating his thin mints. who drugged mac with diet pills, convincing him they were "size pills" just because he was unhappy with mac's weight gain. the exploitation of mac's body dysmorphia serves not only as a means of keeping his self esteem in check so he's more easily pliable ("you've been looking so sexy, so this... this is disappointing, at least to me" in ass kickers united; "mac did you gain some weight?" at the end of the gang makes paddy's great again), but also to mold him into an idealized physique that he's attracted to, and the unnecessary inclusion of anal beads in this ploy is the logical conclusion of obsessing over mac's appearance.

it was never just about getting the apartment to himself, or even just seizing an opportunity to manipulate, even if those both played a role. there's just no heterosexual explanation for the full extent of what this episode is implying.

so it still seems odd that dennis would want to sabotage a system that was working in his favor logistically and emotionally, essentially giving up the thrill (and safety) of inhabiting another man's skin in order to admit things he could never feel secure enough to admit even to himself. was johnny becoming too difficult to maintain? maybe dennis was motivated to pass mac onto someone else because he was running into a wall trying to figure out how to keep mac interested while avoiding the obvious issue of meeting in person. an effort to self sabotage when things started to get too close for comfort, when he could feel a certain loss of control.

the "johnny doesn't love you, he doesn't even like you" was enough to send me reeling that it was too easy for me to pass over all of this the first time, what a red herring. there's not another man as toxically obsessed w his roommate/work husband in crime/life terry mac as dennis is, while also being so self-deluded he has to make up half-assed excuses just to convince himself this is normal behavior.

[forsaken-headcanons]

shedletsky and builderman ..i like to believe if they see eachother in the little rounds of forsaken(whatever theyre called) shedletsky just constantly talks about anything and everything but sometimes he sees something interesting about the dispensers/turret thingies that builderman makes and asks about them, mostly expecting just a simple short explanation

But NO. NEVER!!! Builderman just starts to give a very in detail explaination about how they work from him starting the build to finishing it entirely, does shedletsky listen? probably! Maybe! He seems like the guy to just half ass listening to it but then pick up on the smallest of facts

Tldr: uh. Builderman can talk about things hes built for hours on end , basically .

Yapper Builderman canon. He has the engineer autism.