#trigger russian roulette

[aztrokraut]

[molsno]

one of the reasons I can't really see myself dating a tme lesbian is because so fucking many of them, even if they're trans themselves, think they're incapable of being transmisogynistic. like. there's an inherent power difference between us and sooooooo many tme lesbians want to deny that because they have this gut feeling that they're more oppressed on the basis of being afab and I straight up do not feel safe enough to date someone who thinks that.

and like. that's the thing. a lot of them just never even stop to consider that trans women might feel unsafe around them - they think of it being the other way around. and like, idk, the thought of dating someone who views me as a dangerous man even a little bit, even if they won't admit it and don't think they do, is one of the most terrifying prospects imaginable, because I know that at any time they could turn around and discard me like garbage, tell everyone I know that I'm a dangerous abusive predatory tranny in order to isolate me so that I have no one to turn to.

tme lesbians will read this and think I'm exaggerating, think that kind of thing would only happen if I was actually dangerous and abusive and predatory, completely unaware that I've just described the personal life experience of like 70% of the trans women I know. they don't fucking understand how unbelievably common it is for trans women to be abused, beaten, groomed, and raped by their afab partners, only to have those partners turn around and paint them as the abusers and isolate them. no matter how many times I hear a new variation of this story it never stops making me cry. it makes me want to hold them and give them my unconditional love, tell them they're not dangerous, tell them they deserve gentleness and understanding and safety, make them really believe they deserve someone who will respect their boundaries and desires. if you've ever wondered why trans women mostly only date other trans women, it's because nobody else is doing that for us.

[orcelito]

Sometimes I get the urge to be like "Well, they can't live forever" when it comes to shitty situations with shitty people. But then I remember that A: shitty person dying might not be the result that someone wants, and B: it actually can take quite a while for people to die, in many cases

Idk I'm just so used to death being right around the corner that I'm like "Well maybe he'll die soon and that'll fix it" but he probably won't die that soon and it also might not fix it. Or be wanted.

Idk it's such a specific mentality that I have now. People can die with such short notice that you Never Know! The solution to all your problems may be short at hand. You never know.

[tazzymcclazzy]

hello this is rj news/ref reporting to you live from Verizon Store Display Atblet

[yameoto]

RUSSIAN ROULETTE. CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

piltover / zaun civil war

tw; dark!caitlyn, prisoner!reader, blowjob, gunplay, gunjob? gunfucking, drastic power dynamics, degradation, humiliation, bondage, hate sex, bratty!reader, noncon. dead dove. rape. wc; 1.9k ao3 vers.

WHEN Piltover's oh, so fearless leader strides into your humble abode, you can already tell she's having a bad day. Caitlyn's eyes are bloodshot. Hells, she’s still in her uniform. The tresses of silken, inky locks are no longer taut ponytail—stray strands dangling, tangled, cheeks nicked with dried blood. You doubt it's her own.

Your first instinct, as a prisoner chained to the wall and completely at her mercy; is to act like a right fucking brat. Because that’s been working out so well for you, thus far.

“Rough day?” not that you could give a single fuck. “All tired out from gassing out children on the streets? Poor baby."

Caitlyn remains silent as she dismisses the guard with a flick of her wrist, and you're still talking. Yipping away like a dog snapping at her heels. "There are other ways to solve wealth inequality than killing all the poor people, you know." Her stare is glacial.

God, the mouth on you.

She’s considered moving you to her family’s personal prisons. Though, keeping Zaun's lauded revolutionary locked-up in the Kirramman's basement would draw a couple eyebrows. The dungeons under the council-room you so lovingly blew up, along with her mother, suffice.

“Paint a portrait,” You sneer, like the little shit you are. A bloodstain clinging to her sole, that she hasn't scraped off yet. "How 'bout you shoot a gloryhole and fuck that instead, princess."

So you do see the bulge she's packing. Good. She's been aching to unload in you, all day.

"I'm not in the mood for talk." Caitlyn says, coolly, shoving the cellblock door open and stepping inside. Clearly. Her cock is pulsing. She hasn't even made the effort of the usual charade, in drilling you with that perfunctory interrogation sequence—for the benefit of the enforcers stationed at your cell. (Shame. you take your petty joys in turning up your nose and spitting in her face, like some structured caricature of foreplay).

You have such tight lips. Caitlyn delights in prying them open.

“Knew you couldn’t resist. Come back for another round, already?” Somehow, you manage to sound cocky, even though there's a smear of her dried cum streaked just below your brow, from just this morning.

Caitlyn tries to be good. She really does. You just make it so hard.

“Hold this for me.” She orders, like you're one of her little soldiers waiting on her hand and foot. A snarky reply about the shackles around your wrists is on the tip of your tongue. No matter. Caitlyn forces the barrel down your half-open mouth anyway, before you could so much as say bang.

“Mmf—“ Cold metal forces your mouth apart. your eyes widen, pupils swallowing up your irises. This is new. For a moment, blind panic seizes your body, because there is a gun in your mouth. It's not like you don't know there's a guillotine with your name inscribed. (All, 'cut the head off the snake', or whatever eloquent, prissy-spun bullshit Caitlyn spits in your ear as her nails scrape the walls of your cunt).

It's been too long. The war could be over, for all you know. Though, you wouldn't put it past her to keep you past your expiration date.

Speaking of, Caitlyn doesn’t even bother to hush you. She only thrusts, further—far enough to bruise your throat and stop your incessant, muffled whining. Your gag reflex triggers. Unbidden, tears sprout, to burn behind your eyelids. Silently, you buck.

“Oh, don't be so dramatic. You’ve taken worse.” Caitlyn rolls her eyes, languidly pushing the pistol in, and out. In, and, out. She guides in smooth, composed motions—never letting up enough to allow you more than seethe, breathing harshly through your nose. “It’s good practice."

The fiifth time you gag, she finally lifts the barrel out. You were never one to waste the opportunity to snark, even if you really should be saving your breath.

“Holding a dress rehearsal for my public execution? I'm. You must really like me, doll.”

“Oh, no,” Caitlyn drags metal, over your lips. It's warm, from the time it’s spent crammed down your throat “for gagging on my cock.”

Even though you’re expecting it, you lash out—momentarily ripping the veil off your faux swagger. Caitlyn tuts, though she gets a vivid lick of satisfaction from seeing you, bare, for once (and goodness, how much effort you take), before shoving the gun back in place. You fix her with a glower that seeps with pure, divine, hatred—chapped lips puckering goadingly around its muzzle. Screaming for her, to just fuckin' do it, already. Caitlyn almost admires how you haven’t lost your rage, your viciousness. It's the one thing you have in common.

She swiftly upticks the revolver, and jerks it out, callous. The roof of your mouth snags on its sharp-whetted sights, and blood sluices down your throat. You can’t tell the taste from the metallic tang of metal. A string of pink saliva connects its spitsoaked barrel to your sputtering lips, chest heaving.

“Don’t have the balls to take the shot, huh?” You spit, as if there isn’t enough of that smeared over your chin, pooling helplessly into your collar.

“Should you be so lucky.” Caitlyn smiles, the bitch, as she swoops downwards, markedly unblemished hands grasping your jaw. Of course, you think, lividly. Of course Piltover’s own general doesn’t get her hands dirty.

Although, she makes an exception for you. How sweet.

Caitlyn foregoes further fanfare, pushing you downwards. Your limbs fold in on themselves—a lion, declawed. The feeble thrash of your arms, bound at the wrist and hastened to the iron-wrought wall—are no match for the demanding brace of Caitlyn’s thighs as she slides gracefully to her knees, elegant hand seizing you by the throat.

"But I’d make such a pretty martyr," You wheeze, hyperaware of the click of Caitlyn’s belt unbuckling. All of a sudden, you miss the cool sensation of a pistol in your mouth.

Caitlyn, on the other hand, adores this angle. How your eyes sear. Jaw clenched, hollows sucked in rage and hunger—as if you would blow the brains out her head if you could. Seething, at how she has the opportunity herself, but denies you the satisfaction.

Instead, you get this. She untucks herself at a leisurely pace, almost marvelling at the way her cock descends in a mighty shadow, darkening your face. You scowl. Her free hand shoots out to smush your cheeks, the moment you bare your teeth and open your mouth to talk back. So predictable.

“Perhaps if you didn’t spit your food out at the guards, you’d have the strength to put up at least a little fight.” Caitlyn teases, too lightly for the context, as she lines up her flushed, swollen tip against your furiously jammed lips. A gob of pre-cum spouts from the slit, marring your cheek

"Maybe I was saving myself the trouble of hurling it up after we're done."

Caitlyn rolls her eyes. Pushes her head up against your pursed lips. “What are you? The world’s most grating ventriloquist?” She remarks, snide. She's weary of playing games. She needs it, now.

How she's grown so painfully hard, over this whole ordeal. You'd think she’d feel shame over it—so turned-on by something she sees clearly beneath her—but who wouldn’t get off on using their worst enemy like this? You'd do the same, if you were in her position.

At least, that’s what she tells herself when she shoves her cock down your throat.

"Ah.." Caitlyn shudders, the same time muscle memory has you sucking. Her neck arches back in open relief, hips bucking as she presses you, nose flush against the trimmed strip of dark pubes.

Her strokes are torturously slow. The most humiliating thing is the plap, plap, plap sound of her balls slapping against your chin, resounding in the empty dungeons. there is no audience—probably because nothing about this screams Noble House of Kiramman—or even legality. then again, neither does launching nukes into Piltover's place of governance. Tomayto, tomahto.

She withholds her moans for your own benefit, just so you can listen to the obscene sound of yourself, suckling along her dick. Caitlyn’s drags are lazy, relishing the beautiful suction of your lips. Slips herself far enough down your throat, for your swallows to turn to audible gulps, as you try not to choke.

She's not quite yet done. Her fingers dart downwards, twisting your panties aside.

“I don’t even know why you bother wearing these. They’re disgusting.” Rock-hard, a sore reminder of how routine this has become. She hooks them on her pistol, before promptly flicking them across the room, revealing the miserable, glistening wetness of your cunt.

Fuck. Your pussy is sodden like a cat left in the rain, dripping all over the carpet—much to your self-loathing. Caitlyn’s smirk is unrepentant.

“You're getting off on this? You're even dirtier than i thought.” She muses, as you glower hotly upwards, cheeks full of her. “I do hope you used your tongue.”

You're briefly confused by the comment, because, well—you are using your tongue and more—until the slick heat of your pussy swallows cold steel, and you gasp—walls straining, clenching around the foreign intrusion. Caitlyn eases the revolver in, with surprising gentleness. not that it does you any good.

Your spine arches off the wall, mangled noise ripping from your throat. Caitlyn shoves her length in, deeper, an impromptu silencer. “Don't whinge, darling.” she husks, knowing you loathe the pet-name. "It's unbecoming."

She never hurries, despite having places to be. Is it her fault that it feels so good to fuck your throat, like this? To pulse her gun in your cunt, almost playful, as she watches with the hooded eyes how your pussy greedily slurps the pistol to its hilt, before coming out again, glazed with the evidence of just how filthy she knows you to be. Her finger slides over the trigger, voice coming out in a breathy murmur.

“Bang.”

Caitlyn cums in thick, gooey spurts down your throat. Her head lolls back, shoving your head to practically kiss the sharp angles of her pelvis as you take it. Of course you take it. All your bravado, and still, you swallow her load like a beaten dog lapping at water, all the while, her pistol stretches you open. You don't plan it. God, it's like your body has a life of its own—a Pavlovian response, to the taste and feeling of Caitlyn trickling down your throat—but you orgasm like your life depends on it. Maybe it does. Your legs quake, limbs jerking, shoulder-blades scraping against the gritty brick walls as your entire being yanks itself upwards, like a marionette on strings.

When she pulls the revolver out from your cunt, this time; it is creamy white that strings from your helplessly pulsating folds to its hollow. You hiss, cheeks burning, panting—scrabbling back. An animal backed into a corner.

Caitlyn holsters her revolver, dripping with your sweat, your blood, your cum. Always on her person, yet as uncocked as the day it was minted—chamber still full. It’s only purpose is to fuck you stupid. She stands, buckling her belt back up, as you lie there.

“I'll break you, yet.” She promises.

Blood rushes between your ears, back scratched to all hell, bruises at the back of your throat. She’s splattered all over you. You grin.

“Should you be so lucky.”

Caitlyn scoffs, and iron bars screech shut behind her. You know you'll see her again, come sunrise. Or; you’ll know sunrise, come Caitlyn, again.

Tomayto, tomahto.

[seelestia]

✧ the gambler and his knight.

aventurine can't stand having his outfit exposed to the elements nor to the rude hands of clients that won't cooperate – luckily for him, he has you to take care of it all. { aventurine with a bodyguard!reader. }

⎯ fluff & angst. 2.9k wc. headcanons w/ some written scenes. the plot is vv subtle but it's there a.k.a aventurine simps for you (jokingly) but you both end up catching feelings (not jokingly). mentions of violence, death & russian roulette. pre-penacony timeline. a self-indulgent piece to celebrate this blog's 2nd anniv! ★

★ 〜 masterlist.

© seelestia on tumblr, june 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

aventurine who graciously welcomes you under his employment with a game. just a little something to ease your nerves and get you used to his ways. you look at him with such incredulity as if he just fell and hit his head silly. he pays no mind to this – finds it to be amusing a great deal, actually. keep it up, newcomer!

“heads or tails?” he asks, flipping a coin in the air and catching it seamlessly. a routine for him, you would've figured from the sight. “that's. . . an odd way of saying hello,” you point out but your tone bears no hint of protest. he notices that.

“i've heard that one before,” aventurine tilts his head with a smile, nonchalant. “so what's your guess?”

“tails,” you reply without any delay. it's a mindless answer; getting it wrong this way would prove to bear less disappointment compared to putting actual thought in it. “heads for me then,” he whistles.

aventurine opens his palm. it's heads. you frown as if to suspect foul play—but you don't because you know about his notoriously good luck—and your new boss chuckles, almost placatingly.

“looks like i win,” he grins without a care in the world at all. “aren't you starving? let's fetch ourselves a meal, friend.”

a loss rewarded with a prize? you blink. with grace so in contrast to the whiplash you feel, aventurine walks past you with a trail of expensive perfume in his wake. obviously, he expects you to follow and you do after a moment's reluctance.

(this guy is more confusing than the stellaron.)

aventurine who grows quite fond of seeing you acquiesce to his wishes, whether serious or trivial. could you ward off those reporters? could you pour him a drink? could you play a game of poker with him? could you join him for lunch? you're always so professional that he starts to find some mirth in pushing your buttons (never too much). unlucky for you, he does it to be affectionate and lucky for him, you always say yes even if you roll your eyes every single time.

aventurine who trusts you with his credit card. . . to a worrying degree. when asked if he's sure about this, he just waves it off and says it'll be safer in your hands. seriously, this card has been in your possession longer than it's ever been in his. sometimes, he does ask for it back – only to drop some 200k credits to your account. “a tip for doing a good job,” he'd wink casually while you're flabbergasted beyond belief.

aventurine who finds it extremely attractive whenever you step in to protect him from harm. dealing with uncooperative clients is a day in his life, yet some are so brutish they resort to getting physical – but he has you to make sure their hands stay off him. a gun in his direction? knocked off before the trigger even has a chance to get pulled. reaching out to grab him by the collar? they're already on the ground, your foot threateningly pressed on their back as a warning. what a dashing sight – and thanks to you, his pristine outfit has been saved more times than he could count at this point.

aventurine who likes to call you his “knight in shining armor” teasingly. awh, you don't like it? he thinks you're more than deserving of that title with the way you always swoop in to get him out of trouble. if the thousands of credits he gives you aren't enough yet, won't a cute title suffice? “it sounds corny,” you tell him with a grimace—and maybe, yes—but he just chirps coyly, “dunno. i think it's fitting.”

aventurine who makes it his responsibility to check on you after a rough mission. credits are no problem, he'd even reserve the most expensive private doctor in the cosmos if that means you'll recover faster. sadly, he has little to no medical skills – so the most he can offer you is bandages. sure, you can take a bullet to the stomach and handle a punch or two, that's your job, but what about tiny scratches? . . .don't tell him you're about to reject his kind offer.

“what's your favorite color?” he queries, somewhat out of the blue considering the situation where he is helping you tend to a minor cut on your finger. you raise an eyebrow, “why do you wanna know?” as he gently plasters a plain-colored bandage on your skin (which he's only been granted permission to after minutes of begging you to let him do it).

“for the bandages,” aventurine answers. he finds no need to hide his intentions as he runs a thumb over the bandage, softly as to not hurt you, to keep its position secure. “so that the next time you ask, i'll have some in your favorite color for sure.”

“how. . . thoughtful of you,” you snort, amused.

(briefly, he resists the urge to ask if he can place a kiss on your cut for 'luck'. but if he does, you might have his head. so, he'll try another time.)

aventurine who slowly begins to find a sense of comfort in your company. maybe, it's the way you scoff at his quips with a smile or the way you always tell him to be careful. maybe, it's the way you take him seriously or the way you stay by his side—is your job description the only reason why?—or maybe, he's just pathetic and reeks of so much loneliness you feel sympathetic. he can't tell, but he hopes the luxuries he has can persuade you to stay just a little longer. even if you don't actually care. (you do.)

aventurine who notices how anxiety brims in your gaze when you watch him gamble at the table – with a sum too high to be considered sane and sometimes, his own life. he can see it all; how your hands shake as if you want to reach out, how your lips tremble as if you want to tell him to stop. but this is what he's made for, is it not? he'll survive one way or another. . . until fate decides the bill for all his past good fortune is finally due. and when the time comes, he'll be ready for it. (will you?)

a game of russian roulette.

it always starts with thrills only to end with carnage spilled all over the table. luck is the only thing worth praying for at that point and oh, is luck not the dearest friend aventurine ever had? hence the reason why he always agrees, not with a yes but with a “why not?”.

you're there as his protector, yet utterly condemned to the role of a witness as soon as aventurine nods along to that darned game. panic rushes through your veins as the gun is passed around so relaxedly, so easily with laughter all around. aventurine's next in line, you realize grimly. the next decision that comes after is spontaneous, so different from your usual calculated nature – you drag him out of the casino in a frenzy before the weapon even lands in his hand. in your head, there is no other thought louder than: he could've died.

“a shame i didn't get to the fun part,” you hear him hum from behind you, too disturbingly calm for your liking. the bustling noises inside the establishment have all but faded into the background. “that was close, hm?” he laughs, a sound you would've found endearing if this was another occasion. any occasion that doesn't involve teetering dangerously on the precipice of death.

you stop in your tracks and aventurine, behind you, naturally follows. your silence is something he first takes note of and the way your hand shakes as it holds his is the second. you still haven't let go. what's going through your mind? he calls out your name softly, perplexed at your lack of explanation.

“. . .why did you say yes?” you respond with a bitter question. “you could've died. you almost died,” you try to hold back a shout – yet, your words are spat in such a fusillade he feels a seed of guilt starting to bloom inside his lifeless heart. he discards it in favor of putting on a frivolous smile.

“oh, relax,” he lets out a chuckle, one that sounds so ignorant of the taut tension in the air. “it's just some russian roulette. why so serious?” he shrugs as if to physically brush off any seriousness clinging to his figure. his remark gives off the assumption that every single hint of your worry has flown over his head.

“it is serious. . .” you bite your bottom lip. he sneers in return, “yeah? since when?” as if to challenge you to give an actual answer. his life is full of risks, to say otherwise would be a lie. “you're sweet for worrying but you don't actually care about me that much, do you?” he snickers to himself. like the thought of your caring about him can't possibly be true, like it's all just a terrible joke.

but he's the only one laughing.

aventurine falls quiet and finally, genuinely meets your gaze for the first time that night. he doesn't like what he sees. your lips are downturned, unamused and saddened—you do care, a realization that has been left unsaid—and all remainders of levity in him are replaced by immediate dread. it only now registers that the anger, concern, frustration on your face are for him; they're the unavoidable consequences from caring about him.

(his eyes widen. no, no, no.)

“c'mon, you—” he covers it up with a carefree smile, as feigned as it came. he shoves his hand in one of his pockets. it's shaking. “. . .worry too much. you've seen me play a handful of games before. i've never lost a wager, remember?”

you don't look convinced at all. in fact, you look as if you've arrived at the brink of seething. “and if you do? for once in your life, you lose?” you prod him for more. for something, for anything – perhaps, for a promise that he won't do it again.

(but you know aventurine, you know there would be no such promise.)

“then i lose,” he says, final and resigned. “there's really nothing else to it,” he tries to offer you another smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “hey. at least, you'll be there to witness my spectacular fall, right? it'll be a show to remember.”

he nearly doesn't manage to keep up the façade. it's already as precarious as it can be. you don't reply to him this time – instead, you let go of his hand to wipe at your cheeks. his gaze trails after your fingers and it freezes upon seeing the pearly tears falling free from your eyes.

aventurine has never seen you cry before. you're always so stone-faced, so hard to break that he recalls almost cheering when he heard you laugh for the first time. that was when you finally won a round of poker against him. a pity, he would've reminisced about the memory more. . . if only the matter of losing and winning a game isn't as serious as it is now.

“don't say that,” you mutter, harshly wiping away at the incessant tears pouring from your eyes more than you'd ever allow them to. some make their way into your mouth, they taste just as bitter as your current frustration. does he truly value his life so little? you can't fathom it, you can't fathom him at all.

but there is one thing you were certain of, at the very least: “you hired me to protect you,” you shake your head unrelentingly, “so i'll do it. until you throw me away, i won't let you die.”

you've stopped crying then. aventurine feels remorse; the tears that you shed because of him are starting to dry. the selfish part of him wants to reach out and brush them away with his thumb – but would you let him? would this lead you further down the rabbit hole that is him? in the end, he decides against it.

“. . .i'm sorry,” he sighs instead, raking a hand through his messy blond hair. whatever it is he is apologizing for, he doesn't have a clue either. he lets his eyes slip shut. he can't bear to look at you, can't bear to look at his pitiful reflection in your eyes.

(he's not worth caring about, can't you see? he dances hand in hand with death – there is no need to subject yourself to being a spectator.)

the two of you then part ways that night with shallow pleasantries on your tongues. no inside jokes, no evident yearning for the other to stay, no more than an awkward exchange of “i'll see you tomorrow.”

on his way 'home', regret and relief clash to form something inexplicably hollow inside kakavasha's chest. he wanted to wipe away your tears—what a regret—but if he did, they would've burned on his skin and became another mark to haunt him—what a relief he didn't. and frankly, if destiny is about to reap his debt, he'd rather go with no regrets at all.

whether those regrets include you? he doesn't have an answer just yet.

(the name at the bottom of his contract with fate is signed as kakavasha. but you wouldn't recognize that name. not as him, at least.)

aventurine whose eyes can't flutter close at night ever since thoughts of you fill his mind more than they already do before. you care for him, you want him to live—all his fault, he allowed himself to get too close—but these realizations are rooted in too deep and refuse to leave. what to do, what to do, what to do?

it isn't supposed to turn out like this.

what he and you have is meant to be transactional; he'd be spared from unnecessary scuffles and you'd be compensated with monetary payment. he means to keep it superficially fun; for him to tease you with jests—so you'd stay and save him from the deafening silence in his head—and for you to dismiss him with that adorably annoyed look on your face. just some silly banter, that's it.

so then, since when are there rounds of poker where he'd coo over your frown when you lost? or the sound of your lecturing after he secretly got you a high-end item? or meals shared together where you'd bicker over the bill? or bandages in your favorite color kept inside his bedside table? since when do you start to care? . . .since when does he start to care?

think of something else.

kakavasha tosses and turns in his bed, but the soft pillows and blanket do nothing to quell these bothers of his. are feelings always this complicated? he places a hand over his eyes, tired and exhausted, and stares at the ceiling as if it could provide him with an answer.

but there's no use.

in a moment void of logical thinking, he reaches for his phone and hovers a finger over your name in his contacts. he is usually good friends with bad ideas – but not this time, he sets his phone down and lets out a frustrated sigh that only his expensive pillows are there to hear.

(for gaiathra's sake, he hasn't even told you his real name yet.)

aventurine who becomes awfully distant the next time he sees you. you accompany him to meetings with clients per usual, but it's different. . . he talks to you succinctly, not verbosely with that trademark grin of his. his face is bereft of the things you grow to like seeing on him. a sincere smile instead of one just for show, for example. but even that's difficult to ask for since he only speaks to fill the silence with empty chatter. he doesn't look you in the eyes either; you feel a pang of hurt, you've always loved his eyes.

aventurine who discards all thoughts of you as soon as he steps inside pier point to be assigned a project. a conclave between the stonehearts is a matter of top confidentiality and you, dutifully, are ordered to wait for him outside the office. though, he'll admit; your absence by his side actually does leave a gaping void—such hypocrisy, really—but at least, those pesky voices in his head know how to shut up when it comes to work.

“penacony. . . is diamond finally ready to do something about it?”

aventurine rests his left hand on the small of his back, fiddling with the clubs-shaped detailing on the fabric there. it looks like an act of idleness from afar, but anyone observant enough would know it's a way to subdue whatever nerves he wishes to hide.

he waits for the person in front of him, gazing at the purplish-red sky of pier point at sunset, to speak. for their next words shall mark the start of his next journey in fate's course.

aventurine who hesitates to let you come to penacony with him at first. but it'd be poor reasoning not to, since some might have a bone to pick with him as the corporation's representative. . . and he knows you'll protest to come with anyway. fine then, situationship discomfiture be damned – not even a second after he steps out of the meeting, his neon eyes finally meet yours. “so, how does a trip to penacony sound?” he announces with a confident smile. you blink, noticing how his lips are wobbling at the sides. you don't say no, however. (if only the two of you know what sort of ride you're getting yourselves into.)

— thanks for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. why don't we all sob over this man like it's a cryfest ♡

[nnon0]

JJH fic recs

other fic rec posts : 1.(active post) 2.

been getting a little hard trying to find long fics to read these days but here are some that i complied in the last month or so :)

(🫀) -personal faves

all these years @domjaehyun

WC: 34.1k

fluff, smut, angst; childhood friends-to-lovers!au, college!au, neighbors!au

Just friends @lonelyharmonies

WC: 22k

Strangers-to-friends- to-lovers!au , college au

what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?

(🫀) Only @ppangjae

WC: 21.6k

almost!lovers au

You like to believe crossing paths with Jaehyun after graduation is just pure coincidence. He always comes and goes. But what if he decides to stay? To stick around? To give what was an ‘almost’ a chance?

Romeo roulette @wincore

WC:21.1k

soulmate au, office au, fake dating

if finding your soulmate is the same as a damn game of Russian roulette, you are determined to not pull the trigger at all. except, you know who your soulmate is and he doesn’t—and given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear.

he fell first and he fell harder @taurusdaylight

WC: 18.7k

Basketball captain!jaehyun, childhood-friends-to-lovers

jeong jaehyun really loves basketball. but also, he’s terribly in love with his childhood best friend of seventeen years, you.

(🫀) all i wanted @yutaholic

WC: 17k

heartbreakers, smut

A year has passed since you last saw your best friend, Jaehyun, but the man who returns is not the boy you once knew and loved. Jaehyun will barely speak to you and you don’t know why, but you both may be exactly what the other needs to mend your broken hearts.

(🫀)The Apple of My Eye @sehunniepotwrites

WC: 17k

school! au , teacher!au , Kindergarten teacher!jaehyun

As a young and handsome kindergarten teacher of two years, Jeong Jaehyun was used to receiving presents during Teacher’s Appreciation Week. This, however, was the first year Jaehyun wanted to give a present of appreciation to someone else—his new and ever-so-lovable teacher’s assistant.

(🫀)song for a little sparrow @ppangjae

WC:13.7k

poet!jaehyun x painter!reader , strangers-to-lovers

As a burnt out painter, you packed one suitcase and flew a one-way trip to Paris in hopes of finding your passion again. In the city of love, the last thing you expected was to bump into a man who doesn’t believe in love. But you do, and you find yourself showing him the wonders of love and falling in love. Just don’t fall in love with him.

I like me better (when i’m with you) @tyonfs

WC:11.8k

friends to enemies to lovers, sports au , smut

there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts. 

Someone to Bring Home @rouiyan

WC: 10.2k

Med student!jaehyun, College au, Brothers best friend , home for thanksgiving

synopsis — “if you’ve been waiting for fallin’ in love, babe, you don’t have to wait on me.” (sanctuary - joji)

Boyfriend material @mochidoie

WC: 6.2k

fake dating au, strangers-to-lovers , slight angst

Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.

Back up Valentine @tyonfs

WC: 2.9k

Spiderman!jaehyun

you don’t have any unrealistic expectations for valentine’s day considering your love life has never flourished, but the least your best friend could’ve done was not summon an intergalactic army of an alien species during your first blind date ever.

SERIES

S.C.S; ayakashi @starlightkun

WC:66.2k

heavily based off yet another otome game, ayakashi: romance reborn ; bc of this, all the lore used in here is inspired by/based on/taken from the lore of the game, not the actual lore of traditional ayakashi/yokai stories

[pennylanewrites]

russian roulette [toji fushiguro]

cw: gun play, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink, spitting, choking, creampie, doggy, reverse cowgirl, mating press, kinda dark content, kinda dubcon at first, some soft!toji towards the end

general masterlist // jjk masterlist

“let’s play a game.” you watched intently as your boyfriend took a copper bullet out of a case. he brought it up to eye level, grinning mischievously.

you were used to seeing guns around his place. it was more often than not that you would tend to his open wounds in the early mornings, begging him to just go to a hospital instead. but this was different. he never used them, never even touched them around you.

toji placed the bullet in his polished revolver and spun the cylinder, finally meeting your curious eye.

“come here.” he patted his knee and you got up from your chair, making your way to him. you sat down on his lap and toji squeezed your waist where his hand fell. gun still in his hand, he touched it against your thigh, spreading it open. the cold metal left goosebumps on your skin as it trailed up to the inside of your thigh.

“toji…”

“i won’t hurt you.” the glimmer in his eyes said otherwise. your eyes curiously followed the gun’s muzzle that hid under your skirt, yelping when it came in contact with your pussy.

toji kissed your exposed neck with fervor as the gun trailed up your torso, over your heart, up your shoulder. finally, to your temple.

you couldn’t focus on the hungry kiss toji left against your lips, or the obvious boner hitting the back of your thigh uncomfortably. not when he had a literal gun to your head.

“stop.” you whispered.

“i fucking told you.”with one swift movement toji had you trapped under him on the couch. “i’m not going to hurt you.”

you watched in slow motion as his finger traced the trigger, your eyes closing shut when he finally pulled it. a slight push against your temple and a click was all you felt before he started laughing.

“it’s not funny.” you breathed out, trying to push him away.

“come on,” his strong arm pinned you down, the other pulling your skirt and panties down, “you’re fucking wet.” he licked his lips with satisfaction. his fingers came in contact with your clit, making your back arch off the couch. he pushed you down with the revolver’s front against your stomach, making you gasp.

with his fingers still massaging your clit, he leaned his body against yours to lock your lips together. his tongue played with yours, but it was quickly replaced with the gun. your eyes widened. he wouldn’t actually pull the trigger, would he? the odds were four to one, but still. you would be killed instantly.

“daddy’s gonna have his fun now, okay?” you tried to scream when he pulled the trigger, but nothing came out. a tear trickled down your cheek, trembling lips against his soft thumb.

“toji, please stop.”

“you know i like it when you cry.” his thumb moved from your bottom lip to your cheek, swiping the tears away. “let me have my fun now.” he whispered in your ear, kissing the lobe softly before moving down on the couch until he was looking at your pussy.

you spread one leg over the couch, the other over his thigh, and unbuttoned your shirt.

“what, did you come already?” toji scissored his fingers, showing you the juices sticking from them. “you might be even sicker than me.” he chuckled and tossed the gun on the table before turning his attention to you again.

“daddy, i need you.” you whined when his fingers teased your slit.

“you got me.”

his two fingers easily slipped inside you, using your wetness as lube. his other hand snaked up your body and wrapped around your throat, not applying pressure just yet. his fingers curled up, pushing deeper inside you, and you were so caught up in the feeling that you didn’t even notice him getting the gun again.

“you want me to fuck you with this?” the cold muzzle pressed against your entrance, and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t intriguing. you nodded slowly. toji pushed the muzzle inside you, making you moan out in pleasure.

it was cold and it felt weird inside you. toji relentlessly pumped it in and out of you, pushing it as deep as it would go every time you moaned his name.

“i could fucking kill you right now.” he chuckled against your thigh. he watched, mesmerised, as a ring of white bunched up around the muzzle. “and you don’t even care. you just wanna get off.”

his hand wrapped around your neck again, this time his fingers applying pressure to the sides.

“are you gonna come for me?” he picked up the pace, making the whole couch shake.

“yes, yes, fuck!” your thighs clamped together, your walls closed around the gun, your hands searching for toji. you pulled him in for a kiss, while he carefully removed the gun.

“so messy.” he palmed his erection over the gray sweatpants, watched the gun drip with your cum. he pushed it inside your mouth and you wrapped your tongue around it, licking it clean. the taste of the metal made you gag. “good girl.” he grinned and leaned over you. you opened your mouth, lolling your tongue out for him to spit on.

“toji…” you wrapped your legs around his own, locking him in, and pulled him closer. “want you.” you pushed his sweatpants down, fingers teasing the slit of his cock. toji slammed his lips against yours, picking you up with ease. he set you up over the arm of the couch, and you watched over your shoulder as he took his pants off. pre-cum was already leaking from his hard cock when he slapped it against your ass.

he used his hands to spread your cheeks open, the cold air bringing goosebumps up your spine. you felt his tip rub against your cunt, collecting your wetness. a whine escaped your lips when toji finally entered your hole.

“how are you so tight, baby?” toji’s voice strained as he held your hips back, slamming his cock inside you. your back arched and you moaned in pleasure. you could feel every ridge, every vein, every inch of him as your walls fluttered around it.

toji knew he was too big. too girthy, too long. but he’d be damned if he didn’t try to fit snug inside you every time.

and you loved every single second of it.

his hand reached for your hair, lifting your body up so your back was against his chest. his strong arm wrapped around your stomach, locking you in place as he thrusted in and out of you.

“daddy, more!” you brought your hand down to your puffy clit, trying to satisfy that hunger resting deep in your stomach. “i’m gonna come!”

“yeah? you like this?” he whispered against your shoulder, his fingers circling over yours, pressing up against your sweet spot. “you like how daddy fucks you?”

you nodded, your eyes closing as you slammed your hips down, trying to feel more of him. the second orgasm of the night washed through you and you were out of breath, but toji was insatiable.

without pulling out, toji flipped you over so he was sat on the couch and you were on top of him, facing the other way. his hands raked along your body, his need to touch every inch of you obvious.

they ended up on your hips, holding tight so he could lift you up just barely, then slam you down on his cock again. you were hot and sweaty, your back and his torso stuck together and the sounds coming from both of your mouths filled the room.

“you wanna come again?” toji bit your neck playfully, reaching the end of the couch to get the gun. his fingers wrapped around your neck, barely applying pressure. the muzzle met your temple again.

“y-yeah.” you moaned out, lifting your feet off the ground to move your hips freely.

“work for it.” you could hear his smirk as he sat back, bringing you with him.

you tried to move your hips up and down, front and back, but it wasn’t enough. it was never like the way toji did it, and your legs were getting tired. you held yourself up on his knees and turned around with a pout.

“toji, i can’t.” you muttered.

“that’s okay, baby.” his hand left your neck and he pulled you back so you were snug against him. you breathed out as he slowly lifted you both up, then down, more of his length fitting inside you at this angle. “what are the odds now?” he pushed the gun against your temple.

“two to one.” you replied and gasped when he pulled the trigger again, only for nothing to happen.

“wrong. now it’s two to one.” he laughed, voice raspy as he bucked his hips up furiously, his thighs meeting the back of yours with every thrust.

“f-fuck, toji! i’m coming!” your legs were shaking uncontrollably and you would be lying if you said the adrenaline and the danger didn’t turn you on.

“good girl. come for me so i can fill you up.” toji guided you through another orgasm, his arms keeping your thighs open so you could see just how he fucked you.

“up.” he slapped your thigh softly, pushing you off him. “come here.” he wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead and sat you on his lap, this time facing him.

“what?” you asked softly after he kept staring at you.

“you okay?” you nodded, earning a squeeze on your arm. “answer me.”

“i’m okay. you’re ruining the vibe.” you teased, looking up at him through your eyelashes. your makeup was long smudged and strands of sweaty hair stuck on your face and neck, but toji always thought you looked pretty. too pretty for him.

“oh, am i now?” he pushed you on the couch and you spread your legs, but he closed them, bringing them over your head. basically folding you in half.

“toji, it’s not gonna fit like that.” you whined when his tip teased your fluttering hole.

“oh, it’s gonna fit.” he tested the waters, pushing the tip in only to remove it completely. “i’ll make it fit.” and with one thrust, he buried his cock to the hilt, groaning in pleasure.

your body was numb. he had never fucked you like this. even though the position was uncomfortable, the look on his face and his moans of pleasure as he thrusted in you were worth it. he brought your legs over his shoulders, pressing against your stomach with his hand.

“look.” he breathed out. you could see the bulge in your belly every time he thrusted. “oh, fuck,” he strained, “get the gun.”

you went to hand it to him, but he moved your hand so you were pointing it at him. with your legs still on his shoulders, he leaned closer to you until the muzzle touched his forehead.

“shoot.” he urged you, eyes wide as he fucked into you with fervour.

you finally understood how it felt. two chances it would draw a blank. one chance you would shoot his brains out. your finger fidgeted with the trigger and you tried to focus on anything other than the cock your walls tightened around.

click. blank.

you let out a sigh of relief, a small laugh escaping your lips.

“god, you’re so hot.” he praised you. “i’m gonna fill this pussy up.” he leaned down to kiss you softly.

ropes of cum filled you, making you moan in pleasure. toji slowly pulled out, his hand still around your ankles to keep your legs up. he watched with fascination as the cum oozed out of your gaping hole and he brought a finger down, pushing the liquid back inside.

“toji, it’s filthy!” you tried to protest when he brought his finger up and licked it clean. he finally let your legs go and you dropped them on either side of him.

“you did good, baby.” he praised again, leaning down to leave soft kisses on your belly, your stomach, between your breasts. “so good for daddy.”

[livelaughlovesubs]

Mind empty just Thinking about dazai with knife play or gunplay is just 😋

-🎭

ARGHHHHH

Dazai who’s super excited about it, wriggling around all the time in hopes you’d accidentally kill him. But he didn't actually want to die, it’s too painful this way. Still, just imagining it and fantasising about the possibility made his dick leak like a girl.

Dazai who audibly gasps whenever you cut him slightly, or press the muzzle against his forehead. Whimpering when he inhale, breath hitching and going up a pitch as you press the trigger. The familiar ‘bang’ of the gun reached his ears as his inevitable orgasm washes over him.

Dazai who gets so exited when seeing red, watching the blood drip down his skin as it sticks to everywhere. His blood was such a clear red, it didn’t take long until it became lumps. But until then, he had enough time to admire the fluid and groan in delight.

Dazai who squirms around when you threaten to take his life. Like an embarrassed maiden while he covers his face, grinning cheekily while shaking his hips. Feeling the cold material of the weapon sliding across his chest, stomach or thighs, rubbing against his crotch teasingly. It’ll be hard to hold back~

Dazai who loved it a bit too much when you press the muzzle of the gun against his cheeks, brushing it over his lips and force it into his mouth. Forcing him to suck and lick it. He swears he can taste the bullet within, even though it isn’t loaded. At this rate he doesn’t even know if he wants to beg you to shoot or to withdraw the gun. Dazai who begs you for more once you are done with your little session. Always seeking more adrenaline and danger. Next time, maybe you’ll load one bullet? Or maybe two even to be extra bold? Russian roulette is pretty fun after all.

[minaj-estyyy]

Bending shigaraki over with a gun against his head, Russian roulette with one bullet in the revolver. You’ve pulled the trigger 3 times already and each time he hears the {click!} he cums. Grabbing his arms and crossing them behind his back as you pull him up from the bed by his hair before pulling the trigger one more time just for the gun to jam. Idc he’d cum so hard he’d be crying n shit, ugh I need him so bad.

Idk, I must be feelin freaky

Muah 💋

[kierahn]

Yandere mafia boss x younger subordinate m Reader (Also if you like set in Omegaverse, if not just keep it simple as that :) )

RUSSIAN ROULETTE. [ y ! mafia x m ! surbodinate reader]

yandere! mafia x subordinate! male reader

[ nsfw, minors dni. ]

warnings:

noncon/dubcon

gunplay

omegaverse [ omega reader ]

spit as lube

degradation

request here.

i was going to add a reader death at the end, but i decided against it last minute lol. hope you guys enjoy either way ! :)

× omegas were a rare sight in the underground business. they were either used for trafficking business or used for pleasure among the members of the syndicate, a well-known gang in the underworld.

× you somehow managed to land a position in the syndicate with the help of someone you knew. before you entered, however, he had specifically warned you to never have anyone find out that you were an omega while on the business. you hesitated at first, knowing that trying to deceive such a dangerous group could cost you your life. but at the same time, you were desperate to pay off your family’s debt, and the opportunity was already dangling right in front of you.

× so you took it. you took your suppressants, covered your scent, and convinced yourself that you were a beta. after all, there is a saying that you need to convince yourself before convincing others. luckily enough, it worked and you ended up easily deceiving everyone around you, including your boss; Jansen Lazar, an alpha.

× however, you should’ve known that the karma from your deception would eventually catch up to you.

× you had taken your suppressants that day. you’ve been carefully monitoring your monthly heat so you knew when to take more pills than usual. you took the normal amount of dosage you usually would whenever your heat was approaching, but it seemed like it didn’t help much with the way you were now curled up, on your knees before your own boss; the cat now out of the bag.

× jansen furrows his eyebrows in conflict, torn between getting angry or feeling delighted that you were an omega. he had always harbored an interest towards you ever since you joined the syndicate. now he was presented with the opportunity to turn this interest of his into something more. though, he still made it clear that he was angered by your deception.

× “you..” jansen strode towards your hunched form, his hand shooting out to pull you up from the ground, his grip tight enough to form a bruise. he leans in to confirm his suspicions, the scent of an omega in heat hitting his nose which caused him to recoil slightly. your breathing was ragged, cheeks flushed. you looked so ready to be taken right there and then. “you’re an omega! how dare you deceive me.” he exclaimed angrily, his grip around your arm tightening. he restricted himself from pouncing on you, your scent starting to take a toll on him.

× but jansen didn’t let his libido control him just yet. he resisted the urge to fuck you pretty right then and there on top of his table. he still needed to show you that you weren’t going to be let off lightly after deceiving him.

× the next thing you knew, papers were scattered all around you two when jansen chose to throw you over his table. a revolver was then pointed close to your forehead, a sharp glare directed towards your half-lidded eyes.

× “there are 5 empty slots and a bullet in this revolver,” jansen lowers himself to whisper lowly against your ear in an attempt to intimidate you. his voice was hoarse as he tries to hold himself back from acting out of rationality. “you’re going to answer my questions, and each time i hear an answer i don’t like, i’m going to pull the trigger. got it ?”

× you could barely understand anything your boss was saying, but you nodded your head nonetheless. “good. good boy.” jansen hums in satisfaction, readjusting the gun on his grip. he started with his little interrogation session, but seeing as you didn’t seem to be in the proper state of mind to give him proper answers, he grew frustrated.

× “look at you, you can barely form any words.” jansen scoffed. you looked so vulnerable under him. a contrast to the stoic facade you would put up under your guise of being a beta.

× then an idea forms inside jansen’s head, a mischievous smirk slowly making its way onto his lips. he asks another question, knowing that you would likely answer. “do you want me to help you, little omega ? want me to take you and fuck you dumb ?” he drew his finger close to the trigger, looking down at you with an expectant gaze, daring you to say no.

× not that you would. no omega would reject an alpha during his heat. jansen's pheromones enveloped the room, mixing with your own which helped ease your heat minimally. desperate to find relief, you weakly nod your head, wrapping your arms around jansen’s neck to pull him closer to you which caught the man off guard.

× ‘click.’ the gun in his hand clicked. jansen had pressed the trigger. “i didn’t say you could touch me, y/n.” he says lowly, a warning in his voice. “i’ll do all the touching, behave yourself. do you understand ?” you nod, slowly removing your arms around his neck. jansen, in return, grabbed your wrists with one hand and pinned them above your head to make sure that you wouldn’t touch yourself any time soon.

× he couldn’t hold himself back any further. his lips moved to bite down on your earlobe, eliciting a small gasp from you. jansen’s hot breath trailed down to hover just above your scent gland, the tip of his nose barely brushing against your bare skin as he takes a quick whiff of your scent. you smelled so fucking good, makes hin wonder how you managed to slip under his nose all this time.

× momentarily releasing your wrists, he threw your shirt over your head and threw it aside for you to find another time. he then worked on unbuckling your belt, leaving you bare and ready for him.

× he forcefully stuck two fingers into your mouth. “suck,” he ordered, which you pleasantly obeyed, your tongue wrapping around his fingers and coating it with your own saliva.

× he soon pulled out, a trail of saliva connecting from your lips to his fingertip. jansen, despite feeling his cock grow painfully hard, was generous enough to prepare you beforehand. he prods at your leaking entrance, slowly and carefully pushing his fingers in, using the moisture from your own saliva as lube. though, it seems like he didn’t need to do much with the amount of slick you were producing.

× “your hole is so fucking tight. i’m guessing you’ve never been fucked by an alpha before.” he growled lowly, pulling his fingers out after deciding that you were ready to take on his size. “i’ll happily be your first.” your hole was practically begging to be filled with something bigger than his fingers.

× jansen turned you on your stomach, arching your back so that your ass would be on full display for him. the sound of belt unbuckling reached your ears, and before you could take a deep breath to prepare yourself, he drives himself all the way inside which elicited a loud moan from you.

× ‘click.’ another click from the gun. you were lucky enough to avoid a bullet to your head. “lower your voice. do you want the others to hear you getting fucked by your boss ?” he questions, still thrusting into you at a constant pace that gradually increased over time.

× your hands instinctively shot up to cover your mouth to prevent any moan from slipping out, tears forming at the brim of your eyes.

× jansen stopped thrusting for a quick second to adjust himself before diving back in, hitting all the right spots that you were practically twitching and moaning like a mess under him.

× you wanted to cum, you couldn’t handle it anymore. your hand shoots out to wrap itself around your own cock and stroke it, hoping for some relief. a click makes you freeze, however. “what did i tell you ?” jansen hissed. he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulled, his hot breath right against the back of your neck.

× “hng.. ~ mh ah ..m sor..ry !” you slur out, groaning in both pleasure and pain at the hand that tugged at your hair. a harsh bite to the neck your neck snaps you out of your trance. you felt a wave of relief wash over you as you came, painting the scattered papers on the desk white.

× ‘click.’ ‘bang !’ the revolver went off with a bang causing you to flinch and close your eyes tightly, a painful ringing sound in your ear. you anxiously open your eyes and look to your side, wondering why you were still alive and breathing. the bullet had lodged itself a few meters away from your head.

× “i didn’t give you the permission to cum yet,” jansen points out, a smug smirk on his lips as soon as he notices your fear-struck face. “but you’re lucky that we came at the same time.” jansen pulls out from your hole, leaving it to leak with his seed oozing out of you and trickling down your thigh. you felt your whole body go limp against the table, your whole body shaking uncontrollably after realizing that you had almost faced death. your knees buckled under you, your vision swaying into a blur until you eventually blacked out.

[megalomaniacz]

Toxic!jinx nsfw hcs?

TOXIC JINX NSFW HEADCANONS !

this makes me miss my situationship i kinda #needthat real bad 😔 guys manifest with me! bunny will find a hot butch to fuck soon yasss 🕯️

always wearing super cute lingerie for you !

loves fucking you slow and steady. hips rhythmically slapping against your thighs, cock bottoming out into your cunt, bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she watches you come undone.

loves to overstimulate you. will spend an hour teasing you by rubbing agonizingly slow circles on your clit, periodically stopping so she can hear you whine about needing her again.

she’s into some heavy rough shit. ties you to the bed and leaves you there with a vibrator against your clothed heat for however long her heart desires. loves waxplay, incredibly fascinated with the way your body jolts when the wax hits your skin. in the most extreme case, she’s played russian roulette with you and an empty gun. you weren’t aware that it was empty though. she had you sucking on the tip of it while she fucked into you, pulling the trigger after each of you orgasms.

she has the sweetest moans when she’s being ate out. her breath gets heavy and she wraps her legs around your shoulder, slightly bucking up into your mouth. head layed back while she sings your name.

very very clingy. incredibly touchy feely. she’s got a hand on your ass while you’re cooking whispering about how you’re her favorite meal with a smirk on her face. loves to rub and grip at your sides, leaning in to give you a passionately sloppy kiss. seriously can’t get enough of touching you.

COVERS you in hickies because she’ll be damned if someone doesn’t know that you’re hers.

lovesss high sex ohh my goddd, the way you’re literally so fucked out you can’t even make noise. high out of your mind and getting fucked into oblivion. you get soo wet and she makes fun of how loud your pussy is while she’s fucking into you. “do you hear yourself? you sound so fucking pathetic, fuck.”

[mysticheathenn]

Messages From Your Mental Prison

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is about your mental health and the state of how you view the world and everything that is going on in your life. This could be about your depression, Anxiety, or even suicidal thoughts. Read with caution as this reading may have triggers.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

Patreon Link

TW Ahead Read With Caution

Pile l:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: 8 of Pentacles (Reversed), 9 of Swords, 4 of Swords (reversed), 10 of Cups (reversed), Justice

This reminds me of the TikTok clip of the voice screaming "It's not fair. It's not fair." reminding me of how many people have probably told you that you handle stress and everyday life so well but little do they know your mental state is literally one inconvenience away from having a mental breakdown. Stress and anxiety practically camp out in your mind on a daily basis pile l. You can't seem to escape it, it's all you have known for quite a while and you're tired. There is a saying that "There is no sleep for the wicked" Well in your case "There is no sleep for the poor or those who lack the resources to pull themselves up in their life." All you want in life is enough to pay your bills and a little extra for savings and be able to do something with your life like try a new hobby without feeling guilty for spending money that isn't on "important" things like survival. You probably have been in survival mode for quite some time now and wondering when will you see a breakthrough. You're tired of being tired. You're tired of practically playing Russian roulette with your bills of which one can you not pay for this month. One thing I will say pile l is even though things may seem bleak please don't give up, I sense things will get better financially for you. Sometimes in life you just need to find your footing for things to take off.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Seek out information that will help you out, A Journey either physical or mental, unsettled times. Need to plan ahead, Announcement, Get back to the basics.

Pile l your extra message oracles make me believe that you feel lost, maybe even stuck for some of you with no clue in the world of how to better your situation or go about life. You have the get back to the basics card which sticks out to me like a sore thumb letting the game know that I sense you may be the type who always tries to do those get-rich-and-quick schemes like drop shipping or anything else you see that pops up on your social media feed and it never works out for whatever reason. You want to know why....it's because you aren't supposed to be doing that. That's not your path to riches. You have the 8 of Pentacles and 10 of Cups card but it's reversed meaning you are meant to have emotional and financial fulfillment you just need to stop and get back to the basics. What basics mystic? What is it that has been drawing or calling you in? What is something you keep putting off or not doing because you believe based on society and family it won't make you any money? For most of you, this is what you need to be doing. For others of you, you will be going on a journey where you need to find this out. Figure out what feeds your soul that you would do for free and do that but add tax. You are meant to freelance and be your own boss, not working for other people. Overall this is a journey process for you pile l. You will deal with more hard times as you figure this out but remember this journey is temporary to where you want to be, so keep pushing. An answer if it hasn't already will come to you.

Pile ll:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Hermit, Page of Swords (reversed), Queen of Cups, 10 of Wands, 10 of Swords (reversed)

When was the last time you nurtured yourself or spent time alone and really tried to heal and nurture yourself with positive thoughts pile ll. It's a never-ending cycle of you constantly bombarding yourself with cruel words that aren't true. This reminds me slightly of the reading I posted titled Mystery pt. ll. But overall this feeling of yours feels more so as if the world has its weight on your shoulders and you feel as if you are a burden to those around you. You may live at home, with roommates, or feel that you constantly are asking anyone and everyone around you for help as if you can't do anything for yourself and you're tired. You're ready to be able to be independent without having to rely on others. Maybe others have made you feel bad as well for asking for help when you are down on your luck to where you just feel crushed, stuck, unable to move in a direction because one way people will make you feel bad for your predicament and the other hand you will make yourself feel bad because you feel whatever this is you should be able to do by yourself but can't because life is tough right now. As I mentioned in pile l you need to get back to the basics. Get back to the basics of life and take things one step at a time. You are doing the best you can with what you have and don't let anyone make you feel bad about that.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Position of authority, August, Someone you know is undependable and insincere, Slowly but surely getting ahead. Pay attention to your work, Good Fortune.

As mentioned your life while it maybe chaotic at the moment everything is a journey and slowly but surely things will get better and you will get ahead eventually. With the Position of authority I am seeing this in two ways some of you should pay attention to your work as there may be a position available for you in management where you can make more money this may happen around or sometime in August. If not within the company you work maybe this is an invitation to be your own boss or look elsewhere for higher positions especially if you have more than enough qualifications. For others of you, this position of authority is letting you know that you are the boss of your own life and have complete control of what goes on and who is in it. Never let people who claim to be friends or family make you feel bad for being on hard times. They aren't who they say they are and you should move accordingly with that information. Overall Good Fortune is in your cards by the end of this rough patch. You just need to focus and hone in on ways you can do more within your life with the resources of which you have. Again this could be moving up in the company or going elsewhere, where advancement is an option.

Pile lll:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Star, The Sun, Ace of Pentacles (reversed), The Fool (reversed), Awakening

Pile lll, my babies, it's time to allow yourself to be seen by the world. It's time to stop hiding in the shadows allowing life to pass you by. You can't keep yourself in the mental prison of feelings of imposter syndrome, fear of judgment, etc. Life wants to give you financial blessings, especially with the Ace of Pentacles in Reversed but you are blocking them because you aren't doing what needs to be done. This could be you starting a YouTube channel, being a content creator on social media, writing a book or screenplay/ maybe even fanfiction for some of you, others this might just be you hiding from a promotion that you deeply desire but feel you lack experience, knowledge, etc. Whatever this is for you, you have to release the thoughts that plague your mind and go for the thing that puts you in front of everyone. Yes at first you may make mistakes or look cringe or whatever the issue may be but that's how everything is when you first jump deep into something. You make mistakes and people will talk...but you want to know something life moves on and the world doesn't end. Seriously do the thing, it's time. You will beat yourself up if others take the things that you want for yourself and you want to know something you have no one to blame but yourself because you decided to not do what needs to be done. Write the book. Film yourself. Apply for better jobs even if you think you are not qualified. Have you heard of the girl who applied to jobs she had no business doing and ended up getting hired making $100k a year...that could be you right now but you are stuck listening to self-doubt and the thoughts of what others will say. Storytime: I knew that I didn't want to continue working at whatever job I was working at back in 2015 so when my friend and I figured out that employers don't check a lot of your information we applied for positions that would pay us well and you want to know something the resume I lied on got me so far in life to where I was Assistant GM of hotels at one point. All because I believed I could do what others were doing in the hotel industry even without a lick of experience. Did I mess up in the beginning, yes. Did I care...no because I was doing more good than harm so no one really questioned if I lied or not. You have to take the jump. Do the thing.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Short Journey, Back to Basics, Work achievement & success, TIME TO ACT, Someone is extremely stubborn and unwilling to change, Protected from negative forces beyond your control, Solid foundation success with effort, waiting for news package or letter, A meeting with a strange could be important.

Pile lll do you see the amount of synchronicities in your oracle reading. Spirit is coming through loud and clear that you need to get out of your stubbornness and began acting on your dreams, goals, and desires. You are protected from anything that could try and take what this is away from you. Even with a solid foundation success with effort is telling you "Hey if you do the thing you will not fail because you are protected." Now this goes without saying that you won't deal with some challenges because that's life what it is saying is you will come out on top and the journey for you won't be a long one if you just do the effort that it takes. Spirit will do the rest if you just do what needs to be done.

Pile lV:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Empress, Queen of Pentacles, 5 of Swords (reversed), 8 of Swords (reversed), 6 of Wands

You are victorious pile lV your only problem is that you don't believe you are worth a pot to piss in a lot of the time. Even with the Empress and Queen of Pentacles card here letting me know how nurturing, giving, empathetic, and even resourceful you are you don't see any good things about yourself. You remind me of people who speak negatively about themselves not knowing that their actions speak the opposite. You can't say you don't care but your actions speak another language. You can't put yourself down but then be upset when life mirrors your thoughts. Deep down you know how amazing you are and the many great things that you can do, but for some strange reason you recently for some of you while others of you this has been going on for a while where you constantly hold yourself to such a low standard and critic everything that you do. Why is that? Where did it begin? How can you remove this person or thing that made you feel this way? For some of you, this may have been a relationship (platonic, romantic, or familial) that made you feel self-critical of yourself because they felt something about themselves. You must remember that when people speak unkind things to you that it's a reflection of themselves and not you. You don't have to take what others think of you and run with it as if they are true because they are not. A scene that comes to mind is when the mom in Black Swan says "What happened to my little girl?" What happened to you that made you feel and think these thoughts to yourself and how can you get back to the Empress and Queen of Pentacle energy.

Extra Messages: Manifestation Oracle Cards: Wellbeing, Empowerment, Strength

How can you today give yourself the love that you deserve? Is it a DIY spa day? A trip to a therapist or talk with a trusted friend? How can you show up for yourself in ways that you haven't before that will make you see the person you are? Have the strength and courage to stand up to anyone who makes you feel any less than what and who you are. For a few of you, you may be a part of the LBGTQ+ community and others around you have made you feel different, a "freak" or whatever insecurity that you question your existence. There is a quote by Elenor Roosevelt that says "No one can make you feel inferior without your permission." Please don't let assholes who were raised by baboons let you lower yourself or feel anything less than amazing, beautiful, and authentically you. Regardless of how you feel about yourself find something in your life, day, or something as small as a freckle on your face that you love and keep bringing more of that energy in for you and keep your head up. This feeling is only temporary, things will get better.

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

[mmhm-vids]

AO3 link

Russian Roulette Music: Rihanna Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairing: Steve x Bucky

I technically posted this four days ago, but since I am populating my Tumblr, it seemed appropriate to post it here, too: I swear I am more than just endless Stucky reblogs.

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

But her like having a gun on your head while you suck her strap✨✨✨✨✨✨

FEAR KINK YES

Making you take her deeper, threatening to shoot if you gag.

Russian Roulette omg, pulling the trigger and loving the way your pussy clamps down in fear around her strap every time you hear that hollow click. (She would never actually load the gun with bullets, but you don't need to know that.

She fucks your pussy with the barrel of the gun while you eat her out, your sobs muffled as you feverishly move your tongue over her pulsing clit. Her arousal soaks your chin, her hips rutting against your mouth as your cries turn into fear-filled whines. You cum harder than you ever have from the barrel of her gun.

[miss-multi45]

Blackmail

Hoodie x FEM!Reader

cw: no smut, mentions of a gun (revolver), reader has an extremely shitty boyfriend, nicknames said: 'babe', 'babygirl', 'gorgeous girl', 'pretty thing', 'good girl', dead dove do not eat, I based this off the scene in euphoria season 2 episode 6 (the scene where nate puts a gun to maddy's head), mentions of stalking, ghostface quote, mentions of infidelity, gaslighting, swearing, hoodie is a murderous gentleman. come get your food (dddne pun)

It had been six hours since you last saw him.

Now don't take this the wrong way. You weren't the kind of girl to get sad when your boyfriend wasn't by your side again after being gone for five seconds. Quite the opposite.

Liam was a piece of shit, but somehow you loved him. So the reason you had been counting the hours until he got back home was that you had a sneaking suspicion that he had been sleeping with other girls, but god you had hoped and prayed that it wasn't true.

After a while of sitting on the corner of your bed with your head in your hands and planning out what you were going to say to him, the front door finally opened and Liam walked in and right up to where you were.

"I'm home, babe." He said as soon as he entered the room, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you looked up. He sat on his side of the bed and began to undress for bed.

"Where have you been?" You stood up, crossing you arms, finally confronting him despite your fear of him.

He chuckled, both nervously and darkly, "Babygirl, what do you mean?" Liam turned to look at you.

"You've been out all day, you haven't answered my calls or replied to my texts, and you didn't leave any notes or messages." You listed them off, making sure to stare directly into his stupid pretty brown eyes.

"Wha - babygirl, I have a job?" He backed himself up, but you had already prepared for this conversation.

"It's Sunday. Your job is out on Sundays." You walked backwards, sitting on your desk chair to keep the distance, because something didn't feel safe about this.

And almost on cue, you heard a metallic click. "What was that?" Your heart dropped, you recognised that click. It may seem stupid, but you had watched enough action movies to know that click belonged to a gun being loaded.

"Liam. What was that?" You pushed your chair back, even though the bullet could reach you in any corner of the room.

A terrifying emptiness took over his features, a hauntingly calm expression. He pulled the gun out of his jacket pocket, standing up and slowly coming towards you while the deadly cold expression stayed on his face.

The space between you and him was big enough for you to stand up from your chair and jump onto the bed. You threw a pillow at him as hard as you could, scared tears starting to develop and fall down your cheeks.

Liam laughed at that, it appeared he found your fear a laughing matter. "Aw, why you crying?" He creeped onto the bed, climbing on top of you and gently pressing the gun to your temple.

The cold metal that was suddenly against your head clicked, and that's when it hit you. He was playing a twisted game of Russian Roulette.

He switched to pressing the gun to his head, and pulled the trigger a few times to no avail. So, he got up and left the room to load the gun with more than one bullet.

But that didn't involve the bang of a gun, and it didn't involve a body thudding to the floor. But it definitely didn't involve a voice saying: "Smallest gun I've ever used."

Several seconds after the voice spoke, you quietly got up and closed the door, crawling back onto your bed and burying your head into a pillow to silently sob into it.

However, your crying session was interrupted by the door opening again. Heavy footsteps walking towards you, the bed sunk from someone's weight behind you.

"Now what happened here?" It was the same voice as before, commenting on the size of the gun. The voice clearly had a filter over it, but it sounded like a male. Stuffing your face further into the cushion, you tensed up when you felt a leather gloved hand gently stroke and pet your side as if the person knew what had just happened and wanted to comfort you.

"Sorry about your boyfriend," Oh, God. "All those muscles didn't help much." Liam was dead, shot and killed.

Whoever it was didn't seem to like the fact that your face was shoved into a pillow, so they grabbed your face by the chin and turned you over to look at them. "Oh, what a pretty thing." Your cheeks had tears marks, and you were still crying.

"Scared, huh?" Now that you were looking at them, it was obvious they were a man. A very broad and tall man, also quite dominant by the looks of it. He had a turmeric yellow hoodie and a black and red ski mask

You sniffled, and the hooded man chuckled and cocked his head before speaking again. "Stop crying." He wiped a tear with his thumb, moving his arm under your back while snaking the other under your waist.

He lifted you in a bridal carry, but you squirmed in his grasp. "That's enough. A gorgeous girl like you shouldn't be in the same house as the dead body of a shit muppet. Is that clear?"

Almost frantically, you used your sweater paws to wipe the tears away. "I want an answer. Preferably a verbal one." the man demanded, and you answered. "Yes." your voice quivered while you spoke.

"There we go." He started walking out of your room and out of the house, into the vast woodland expanse behind your house. "Now, I'm gonna tell you why I did what I did. And you're going to listen." Not once did he put you down.

"I've been stalking your dead boyfriend for three months now, and I only got the order to kill him two days ago." Wait, 'got the order'? What did that mean?

"I didn't need to kill him for another week, but I did it early because of what I saw him do to you, pretty thing." He continued. Oh, he saw everything. "Pointing a gun to your head, laughing at your fear. You don't do that to a woman, especially not your own fucking girlfriend."

You began to stop crying, instead just looking up at him with glassy eyes and rosy cheeks. But after a while you felt a headache build up, and your vision grew blurry and you saw black dots.

"That's it, good girl." That was the last thing you heard.