#Voice Scam Awareness

[open-era]

AI Voice Scams - Don't Be Fooled, Your Trust is Their Playground!

Protect yourself from AI voice scams by staying vigilant and verifying sources. Let's fight back together! #AIVoiceScams #StaySafe

Your Voice, Their Weapon In today’s technologically advanced world, criminals are finding new ways to deceive and defraud unsuspecting individuals. One emerging threat is the rise of AI voice scams, where fraudsters employ artificial intelligence to mimic the voices of trusted individuals, aiming to trick victims into sharing personal information or parting with their hard-earned money. These…

[monstersholygrail]

The day you got a strange scholarship for Free Use City College in the mail, you honestly didn’t know what to think. You didn’t remember applying to it, you hadn’t even heard of it. The only thought that stuck out to you was giggling over the fact that the school acronym basically spelled out Fuck.

And looking into it, the school was actually real and legit. Credited everywhere in the country. You were a bit more on the cautious side so you called the school just to make sure it was actually them and not some scam. They confirmed it for you in that same call and you’d never seen a school so productive.

It was a full ride, there was no way you could pass up an offer like that. Especially not when it came with free housing too— so long as you lived on campus and very very close to the teacher’s quarters on campus. It sounded fair to you and before you knew it you were leaving your old school and saying hello to this new one.

Everything seemed perfectly normal at first. When you were moving your things in, sure the guys at the moving company and a lot of the students gave you looks. You were new, why wouldn’t they? Yet they threw a welcome party for you on the first night you arrived so you knew they liked you. And when you just so happened to stumble into bed with a hot Orc who lives just down the hall you didn’t think anything of it. Just your normal college experience.

But then… things started to get a bit strange. Your teachers began taking a specific interest in you. All of them asking about your scholarship and which one exactly it was again. You told them honestly, not understanding the gleam that would take over each and every single one of their expressions.

The first time one of your teachers came onto you was only a few weeks after you first started there. Your Fox Hybrid History Professor had asked you to stay after class, telling you he needed you to help him with his big load. You thought you had misheard him, expecting to be spending the afternoon grading papers. But when he plops you down on his desk, sliding between your thick thighs, you’re almost not fast enough to stop the sly Professor.

“Woah, what are you doing?” You ask him in alarm, despite the way your heart is nearly racing out of your chest. Your entire body very aware of the way his strong hands caress your curves.

“Just cashing in on some of the benefits we teachers get from cute students with scholarships like yourself,” he murmurs in your ear, voice as smooth as silk. Making you shiver from a mixture of anticipation and confusion.

You still don’t understand what he’s talking about at first. You read over the terms and conditions of your scholarship through and through.

But your Fox Hybrid History Professor quickly proves you wrong. Bending you over the desk with his thick cock slamming inside you, fucking into you like a beast. As if he’s been waiting for this since the day you arrived. His hand tightly wrapping around the nape of your neck as he forces you to read out of the guidelines of your scholarship.

Stopping his thrusts whenever you pause in your reading. Even if it’s just to moan or whimper. Only starting up again when you continue reading. His cock swirling around your walls and mixing up your insides. It stuffs you completely, making you feel so full that you swear he’s rearranging your guts.

“There,” he grunts out as soon as you get to the point where scholarship students must aid their teachers in any school matters that could help assist with the class or the teachers needs. “That’s, nngh, f-fucking it, sweetheart. So take it. Help a teacher out o-ah-ok?”

You’re not sure if this is what the conditions meant exactly when they added this bit in. But fuck, who were you to complain when your Professor was rutting into you so good, his girth stretching your walls perfectly to his shape. In fact, you wouldn’t complain at all as he fucks you into one orgasm after the next till he’s shooting nothing but blanks inside of you. Afterwards even granting you an extension on an essay due tomorrow.

As you walk back to your dorm on shaky legs, you think that your transfer to FUCC was absolutely, without a doubt, the right move. Best scholarship ever.

[yan-lorkai]

Kicks the door open I have come! to request a Self-aware AU with the Twst bois. When they and the Darling/MC/Player/S/O switch bodies. However, the Darling isn't inside the game. So it's like the Darling waking up in the boys' bodies inside the game, and the boys waking up in the Darling's body in the real world. Thankyou very much 🙏👍🫂✨

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ a/n: self-aware au, my beloved. It was so fun to write this and I wrote a lot too 🥺💓. It took me a while to finish, so I hope you like it, darling!

Azul could always feel your presence through the puppet you control. He felt calm when you looked at him. He felt delighted at every laugh you laughed, and he wanted nothing more than to be beside you. The real you. He wished really hard for it to be possible someday, not knowing that this was exactly what was going to happen. Although his request was successful, there was just one error in the equation: he was in your body, your holy, beautiful body. Which means... You were in his horrible body.

While others would feel happy (and he really is happy to an extent), Azul feels a sense of trepidation knowing that you were awaking in his body and there was no way for him to check on you. Or could he? He tried calling his own phone but it wasn't possible. Resigned, he then took to explore your room and home and if you have any roommates / lived with your parents, Azul would try get along with them and collect information on you. While this isn't the ideal, Azul still has to think ten times ahead so when he take you to Twisted Wonderland (not a matter of if but more of when), he could make you sign a deal.

By the way, he definitely try to unlock your phone. And since he is in your body, Azul may try to unlock your phone with your fingerprint or your face if your phone has that function. If he is successful Azul will read your messages as if it were a magazine, he would see what type of songs you listen and videos you like to watch, what's in your history. Basically he is your fbi agent seeing everything on your phone, there's not a thing he'll not see. Good luck for you, reader. That's why I always I always delete my history lol.

Meanwhile you. You wake up on Azul Ashengrotto's body, the octavinelle dorm leader. Geez, are you dreaming? But everything is so real and feels so real. Jade and Floyd seems so real. And their voices, mocking and teasing, almost condescending as you tried your best to act like Azul. They seemed to know that something was wrong but neither choose to ask, brushing off as you being busy with a new scam plan. You were overjoyed but also anxious, without knowing what to do. Could you even return to your body at all? Only time will tell.

⠀⠀

Jade always knew that something was strange with this world, it was almost too... Surreal? He can't quite put into words the things he feel but everything was so much clearer whenever he could feel your presence when he was studying or riding his broom. He could feel your presence when he was cooking, when he was talking about this terrariums, when he was beating people who broke their part of the deal. You seemed to favor him, to love him. He could feel your affection seeping through your cellphone. And he wished to see you, to know you as intimately as you knew him.

And that wish became real. One day he woke up in a different bedroom, in a different body, then, while he is a little surprised, Jade just brush this off as something you did. Perhaps you wanted to show him your world? You wanted to show him your life? Or were you trying to show him something else? Either way, Jade is having the time of his life in your body. Though, as if he was mesmerized by it, he caught himself looking himself at the mirror to see your face staring right back at him. He looks like an excited kid making silly faces in front of the mirror. Honestly he is so unserious. Making faces and silly dances, and laughing because of it.

⠀

Floyd is instantly thrilled, if somewhat bewildered. At first, he messes around with everything he can find, marveling at your surroundings and taking a deep dive into your belongings — he finds it all so fascinating. He’s absolutely entertained by exploring your room, your things, and all the little details that give him insight into your life. But once the novelty wears off, his mischievous nature kicks in. He wants to know everything about you — what you like, your habits, your friends — and he’s not afraid to dig deep. Floyd starts exploring your social media, searching for anything that brings him closer to you and your world. If he finds anyone he thinks might be close to you, he’s ready to make them uncomfortable with cryptic messages or odd behavior, wanting to make it clear that no one knows you better than him.

Meanwhile, you, trapped in Floyd’s body, have to navigate his spontaneous, unpredictable moods and intense physicality — whether in class, on the basketball court, or during his shenanigans. He's having the time of his life while you are fighting for yours, even more when Azul send you to squeeze some people. Like??? How are you supposed to do this????

⠀

Silver always dreamt of you. He knew you, the feeling of your love and affection, the tone of your voice, even if when he woke up he forget everything. A blurry line separating you two. For a while, he thought that you were some higher being that he created on his mind, a simple part of his imagination. That is until this magicless student come around and your presence was all over them, controlling them, talking through them. He wanted to get closer, he wished he could talk to you, to bask on your presence. But he couldn't. He couldn't break his code. Not yet.

But when he slept that night something was different. He couldn't jump into another dream, his voice was different, his height was different, then when he inched closer to the mirror, he saw. A different face. And he knew instantly that it was your face. It was a very beautiful face, exactly how he had imagined. Though it was not what he wanted. He wanted to talk to you, to tell what he felt whenever your gaze was upon him. He didn't want to be you. Or for you to be him.

⠀

Riddle wakes up in your body, feeling completely disoriented and frustrated with the lack of control he has over the new, unfamiliar world around him. But soon, the shock turns into curiosity and then into obsession as he realizes he now has full access to everything about you, your routines, belongings, even your weaknesses, and insecurities.

Riddle’s meticulous nature drives him to organize your life, make everything as “perfect” as he can, so when you’re back, it’ll be clear that he knows what’s best for you. He spends hours exploring your things, setting up strict plans, and making lists, even going so far as to cut out people he feels are a bad influence. All of this, in his mind, is for your “own good.”

In Twisted Wonderland, you’re now bound to the rules of Heartslabyul, balancing Riddle’s strict schedule, navigating his many routines, and dealing with his high standards as you struggle to maintain his reputation without causing a commotion.

⠀

Jamil is quick to adjust, immediately masking his initial confusion in favor of stealthily gathering information about your world. He keeps a low profile, but behind that calm facade, he’s strategically piecing together every part of your life, figuring out who’s important to you and how he can stay in your life even if he returns to his world. Jamil moves through your world with subtlety, observing your friends and family with a quiet intensity, noting who to trust — and who to remove from your life. He’s ready to make subtle changes to your social circle or behavior, aligning your life with what he thinks is “best.”

Meanwhile, back in Twisted Wonderland, you’re handling Jamil’s carefully hidden responsibilities, feeling the pressure of his dual life between serving Kalim and managing his own ambitions, all while trying not to slip up and reveal your true identity. It's difficult.

⠀

Kalim wakes up in your body with sheer joy and fascination, his excitement overriding any initial confusion. He’s absolutely delighted to be in your world, taking in every little detail with childlike wonder. Kalim sees this as an opportunity to become even closer to you, and he goes about learning everything there is to know about your life, friends, and family, brimming with excitement to be part of it all. He’s incredibly affectionate with anyone he meets, happy to share his thoughts, and may unintentionally end up sharing details about “you” that leave people puzzled. He can’t resist splurging a bit on your behalf, thinking he’s treating you.

As for you, adapting to Kalim’s responsibilities in Twisted Wonderland is overwhelming, as you’re thrown into his high-energy life and surrounded by his devoted friends and followers. His cheerful, social world is a whirlwind of activity and expectation, especially with Jamil by your side, assessing every move you make with a scrutinizing eye.

⠀

When Ruggie wakes up in your body, he’s initially thrown off but quickly realizes the opportunity in front of him. Instead of panicking, he takes a strategic approach, savoring every moment as he explores your life and digs into your personal world. His tendencies kick in subtly but intensely; he’s not one for grand, showy gestures, but every action is deliberate, aimed at securing his presence in your life as deeply as possible, as he changes your wallpaper for fanart of him and enters the game to level up all his cards for you.

He begins by poking through your belongings, finding small things that give him insight into your personality, routines, and friends. Ruggie is careful to go unnoticed, learning as much as he can about your relationships and keeping mental notes about anyone he thinks poses a “threat” to his place in your life. He’s not above making subtle changes, distancing you from people he dislikes and reshaping your social circle to align with his preferences, but he does so with skillful subtlety — most people won’t even realize he’s manipulating things from behind the scenes.

If you have a job, he’ll blend right in, charming your colleagues and subtly gaining their favor, leaving an impression that makes it hard for anyone to forget you. He’s naturally resourceful, too, so he takes a look at your finances, maybe even setting aside a bit of extra money “for emergencies” (which, of course, he intends to use for things he thinks you’ll need down the line).

Meanwhile, back in Twisted Wonderland, you’re adjusting to the gritty pace of Ruggie’s life in Savanaclaw. His resourcefulness is evident in every little aspect of his world — from balancing odd jobs to navigating the intense social structure under Leona’s rule. You feel the constant need to stay alert, manage his reputation, and keep up with his never-ending hustle. It’s a life of quick thinking, constant negotiation, and clever shortcuts that keep you on your toes, giving you a firsthand taste of Ruggie’s way of surviving in a world that doesn’t make things easy. You made a note to dote on him when you get back to your body, he deserves.

[thenatashamaximoff]

Something Wicked

Summary: After the dark entity known as the Scarlet Witch takes control of Wanda Maximoff, she unexpectedly breaks up with you as a twisted reward for saving her. The pain of the breakup lingers for six long months as you try to cope and move on, finding solace in your own pursuits. However, just as you begin to find your footing again, you are revisited by old friends as they request your aid when the Scarlet Witch resurfaces.

✎

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 3459

Heavy rain pummeled against the roof above you, but your attention was elsewhere. You marveled at the captivating beauty of your own veins, their emerald hue ensnaring your attention once more. The delicate skin on your forearm barely concealed the intricate network of verdant pathways pulsating just beneath the surface. It was a mesmerizing sight, an otherworldly shade of green that seemed to radiate with vitality. It was as if nature itself coursed through your very being, and you couldn’t help but be awestruck by the phenomenon as if you were seeing it for the first time again.

Your fingers wove through the thick fur of the small dog lying before you, a patient in need. Its shallow breaths and pained whimpers tugged at your heartstrings, yet the pain the animal was feeling caused a tightness to grip your muscles. As you touched the creature, you could feel its distress, intimately aware of every ounce of suffering it endured.

Drawing upon the energy within you, you channeled it toward the dog, willing healing and comfort to permeate its being. Gradually, its breathing steadied, the whimpers fading into silence. A surge of relief washed over you as the dog let out a joyous bark, springing to its feet on the metal examination table. A smile stretched across your features, mirroring the elation in the owner’s eyes as he stepped forward.

“Thank you,” he uttered, his voice laced with a mixture of gratitude and awe. His laughter mingled with relief, and he extended his hand for his furry companion to shower with affectionate licks. “That was incredible.” You drew in a low, shuddering breath, your arms trembling as you attempted to shake off the residual pain you had absorbed from the dog. As he embraced his pet, his fingers finding solace behind its ear, his gaze locked with yours, brimming with wonder. “I must admit, I was skeptical at first, thinking it was just another one of those scams. But witnessing your work… I’m glad I went with my gut.” He pressed his lips tenderly against the top of the dog’s head, a thin layer of tears glistening in his eyes as he inhaled deeply. With a determined nod, he raised his chin, composing himself. “I’ll see you around, doc.”

You chuckled softly, the sound laced with warmth and camaraderie. “Hopefully not too soon,” you replied, a gentle jest dancing in your words. A soft smile adorned your face as the owner departed, the room enveloped in a sense of profound gratitude and hope.

You lingered in the lobby, your gaze fixed on him as he hastily pushed open the glass door and scurried towards his car, seeking shelter from the relentless downpour. The heavy droplets cascaded from the sky, each one threatening to soak him to the bone. The urgency in his movements was palpable, his determination to avoid the drenching rain evident in every hurried step.

A jolt of thunder rattled the building, forcing you out of your stupor. You exhaled heavily as you approached the door. Through the rain-streaked surface, you peered out into the desolate parking lot as your last patient drove off into the night, your lips pressing together in a tight line. With a firm grip, you clasped the bottom of the OPEN sign, flipping it to CLOSE, while your other hand swiftly secured the deadbolt.

Standing there for a moment longer, you observed the heavy raindrops pummeling the pavement under the dim glow of the streetlights. A sense of foreboding weighed upon your shoulders, causing your gut to knot with unease. Determined to shake off the disquiet, you turned on your heels, ready to retreat back into the safety of your establishment.

But as you spun around, your heart leaped into your throat, freezing you in your tracks. A figure materialized in the doorway to your only examination room, shrouded in darkness. Steadying your voice, though your heart hammered against your ribs, you spoke with a measured tone, “Sorry, but we’re closed.” You moved to the side, taking refuge near the desk on your left. Your hand traced the inside of the counter, inching closer to what it sought. “You’re welcome to return tomorrow to make an appointment.”

A soft voice, laced with intrigue, cut through the tense air. “Or we can do it now.” The figure moved forward, stepping into the light, and relief washed over you as you met the familiar, piercing gaze of Natasha Romanoff. Releasing the handle of the concealed gun beneath your desk, you crossed your arms tightly over your chest. “Hey, Y/N. It’s been a while.”

“Nine months.” You shrugged nonchalantly, nodding subtly as you added, “Approaching ten soon.”

A faint smile tugged at Natasha’s lips as she gracefully approached, taking in the surroundings of your humble business. Her eyes wandered, absorbing every detail, as if memorizing the essence of your new life. “I imagined you doing a lot of things when you left,” she remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of astonishment. “Being a vet wasn’t one I anticipated.” Her gaze flickered back to you, her eyes meeting yours as you leaned against the desk. “Do you even have your license?” She arched an eyebrow teasingly, evoking a huff from you.

“What do you want, Natasha?”

Her lips curved into a more prominent yet gentle smile, but her eyes betrayed a hint of mischief. “What makes you think I want something?” she returned, feigning a wounded expression.

A trace of annoyance flickered across your face as you cleared your throat, not easily swayed by her act. “I haven’t heard from anybody on the team since I left,” you stated.

Natasha’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a more earnest expression. “I know,” she admitted, her voice carrying a touch of remorse. “We’ve all been… busy. But that doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten about you.”

A pang of vulnerability resonated within you, a mixture of yearning and the lingering sense of abandonment. You had made the difficult choice to walk away from the team, to forge a different path for yourself. Yet, a part of you had always hoped for a connection, a reassurance that your absence hadn’t rendered you completely forgotten.

“So why now?” you asked, your voice holding a hint of uncertainty. “Why reach out after all this time?”

She took a step closer, her gaze unwavering and earnest. As she poised herself to respond, a voice interjected before she could utter a word. “Because we need you, Y/N.” Startled, your eyes darted towards the source of the second voice, your attention suddenly drawn to another figure standing at the entrance of your examination room. Lost in the sight of Natasha, you had failed to notice the presence of a companion.

Your curiosity piqued, you shifted your focus towards the newly arrived figure, taking in their appearance and attempting to piece together the puzzle before you. Who was this unexpected partner accompanying Natasha, and what role did they play in this unfolding situation?

A scoff caught in your throat as Vision stepped into the room, his presence commanding and analytical. His unwavering gaze remained fixed upon you, intensifying the unease that simmered within. Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but release your disbelief. “You couldn’t have waited a few more seconds?” Natasha’s low question resonated in the room, its undercurrents of exasperation and frustration unmistakable.

“You were drawing it out,” Vision claimed, his tone devoid of emotion. “Time is of the essence, and we have little to spare.”

Your attention shifted, focusing your gaze squarely on Vision, a flicker of resentment igniting in your eyes. Your question, however, was directed towards Natasha, a mixture of confusion and disdain permeating your words. “Why is he here?”

The Russian’s response was steady, her voice tinged with a sense of understanding. “He insisted on coming,” she explained. “She’s back, Y/N.” It took a moment for the weight of her words to sink in, for the significance of their presence to fully register. Your gaze reluctantly shifted from Vision to meet hers, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach as the realization dawned upon you. “The Scarlet Witch has returned.”

A surge of sensations swirled within you, a maelstrom of recollections, regrets, and feelings. The return of the enigmatic and powerful being known as the Scarlet Witch held implications that stretched far beyond your current circumstances. It signified the revival of a chapter you had hoped to leave behind, a chapter that had left its mark upon your very soul.

As the gravity of the situation settled, a wave of emotions crashed over you, leaving you gasping for air. The resurgence of the past had brought forth a flood of unwelcomed memories and unresolved pain, and the mere thought of confronting it once again threatened to suffocate you. In that moment, you knew you couldn’t face it head-on with the Avengers.

You pushed past them, making your way to the hidden staircase around the corner. Their footsteps echoed behind you, their presence a constant reminder of the choices that lay before you. You remained silent, determined to retreat to the solace of your apartment, to gather your thoughts and find a momentary respite from the chaos unfolding.

Entering your kitchen, you could feel them looming behind you. Natasha’s voice cut through the air, her concern discernible. “Y/N, did you hear me?” Her gaze fixated on you as you retrieved a box from the freezer, allowing the door to swing shut. Her brows furrowed in confusion, Vision standing by her side. “Y/N-”

“I heard you,” you asserted, avoiding direct eye contact as your focus shifted to a frozen meal, the instructions becoming a temporary refuge. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”

Vision, his voice filled with urgency, interjected, “Wanda is in danger. How can you let her suffer-”

You cut him off, your gaze finally meeting his. Anger burned in your eyes, a testament to the pain that still lingered within. “The same way she let me suffer,” you declared, your voice laced with bitterness. The words hung heavily in the air, a raw truth that underlined the depth of your hurt. “You two wasted your precious time coming here. I’m not going back.”

A tense silence settled in the room, the weight of your decision palpable. The Avengers, once your allies, now stood before you, their expressions reflecting a mix of concern and disappointment. The path ahead seemed uncertain, and while part of you longed to join them, to embrace the cause once more, the scars of the past held you back.

With a heavy sigh, Natasha’s gaze softened, her words carrying a weight of understanding. “I know what she did to you. I know the pain she caused, but you also know how dire the situation can become. It’s going to escalate, and without your help, more lives will be at risk. More lives will be lost.” Your eyes locked onto hers, imploring you to remember the purpose that once drove you. “You were an Avenger, Y/N, because you believed in putting an end to that agony.”

Her words reverberated in the air, stirring a mix of emotions within you. Memories of your past life as an Avenger, the camaraderie, the shared purpose, surged to the surface. The weight of responsibility and the desire to protect innocents clashed with the scars of your own personal pain.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to shield yourself from further harm and the realization that your abilities could make a difference in preventing a greater catastrophe. The echoes of Natasha’s plea resonated in your mind.

Taking a deep breath, you met her gaze once more. “You don’t know anything,” you expressed flatly. “I hope you can find a way to save her without me.” With those words hanging in the air, you turned away from them, putting your focus back on the frozen meal in your hands as you stepped over to the microwave.

“She still loves you.” You felt yourself freeze at the android’s voice, your grip tightening and ultimately crumpling the box. Natasha’s voice was low when she attempted to stop him, but he continued with no regard for her. “She never stopped loving you, Y/N.”

“Don’t do that,” you claimed, your voice barely above a whisper, yet you knew he heard you. You dropped the meal onto the counter with a loud thunk as you leaned against it, bracing yourself. “Don’t manipulate my emotions so you can have your happy ending.”

The memory you had fought so hard against managed to trickle in through the cracks Vision’s words caused, and tears pricked the backs of your eyes as you looked at Wanda in your mind. Her soft features, usually filled with warmth and love, were now only filled with sorrow and agony. The pain of the past surged through your veins, threatening to consume you once again. You closed your eyes, desperately trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you, yet it only gave you a clearer view of what had happened.

“You’re wrong,” you sneered, pivoting to face the pair. “Wanda never had any true affection for me, and the Witch only aimed to exploit my vulnerability.” With your arms tightly folded across your chest, you leaned against the countertop behind you and subtly shook your head. “Picture this, Vision: rescuing the person you cherish from a… an ominous force, only to have her confess that she’s never reciprocated your love.”

The weight of those words hung heavy in the air as you paused, your gaze fixed on a distant point. The bitter taste of betrayal lingered on your lips, and a mixture of hurt and anger etched itself on your face. The truth had been unveiled, revealing a painful reality that shattered the illusion of love and trust you had held onto.

The memories flooded your mind, each one a piece of the puzzle that now formed a clear image. You recalled the moments of tenderness, the stolen glances, and the whispered promises of forever. But now they seemed like mere illusions, a cruel facade that masked the true intentions of the Scarlet Witch.

A surge of conflicting emotions coursed through your veins. On one hand, there was a sense of disbelief, a desperate desire to deny the harsh reality that had been thrust upon you. On the other hand, a wave of seething anger swelled within, fueled by the profound sense of betrayal. How could someone you loved so profoundly deceive you in such a way?

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as you continued to steady yourself against the counter. The pain in your voice was undeniable. “The two of you can relax here for the night and wait out the storm, but I expect you to be gone in the morning.” Leaving your untouched dinner behind, you moved past Natasha and Vision, disappearing into the recesses of your apartment. The heavy thud of the closing bedroom door echoed, and a deep exhale escaped your lips as your back pressed against it.

In the quiet solitude, a whispered “I’m sorry” lingered in the air. The memory of her apology played like a haunting film on the back of your eyelids. You recalled the way she looked at you, a mix of remorse and helplessness, and your naive laughter that had once dismissed her regrets. At the time, you hadn’t fully grasped what she was apologizing for… until she mustered up the confidence to continue.

Shaking your head, you pried yourself away from the door, crossing the room to the edge of the bed. As you began to untie your shoes, you grappled with memories that threatened to overwhelm you. You tried to push them back into the vault you had constructed, sealing it shut to prevent the flood of emotions. Yet, despite your efforts, the vault had opened, and you allowed yourself to remember - her smile, the depth of her eyes, the infectious laughter that once filled the room.

A vice tightened around your heart as you recalled the tender moments, like the gentle sweep of her hand through your hair, a simple touch that held profound meaning. The recollection of nights entwined together, limbs and blankets creating a comforting chaos, brought both warmth and pain.

The struggle to forget was real, but the past insisted on resurfacing. With each memory, the walls you had built threatened to crumble, exposing vulnerabilities you had meticulously hidden. 

The soft knock barely registered in your mind, lost beneath the weight of your thoughts. It wasn’t until a voice - steady, familiar - cut through the haze that you blinked back into the present. Your gaze lifted, sluggish and unfocused, until it landed on Natasha standing in front of you.

Your eyes flickered, landing on the frozen meal - now fully cooked - resting in her hands. The same one you’d abandoned in the kitchen. The same one you had no energy to make for yourself.

You hesitated. Accepting it meant letting her stay, meant listening to whatever argument she’d prepared to drag you back into the fight. But when your stomach let out a low, insistent growl, the choice was made for you.

Wordlessly, you took the meal.

She sat beside you without invitation.

“You’re right,” she murmured as you shoveled a forkful of food into your mouth. “I don’t know anything.”

You chewed slowly, your eyes fixed on the meal rather than the woman beside you. But she wasn’t finished.

“I don’t know what happened between you and Wanda after everything,” she continued. “I just know that whatever it was, it was bad enough to make you leave. To move across the country. To try to disappear.”

You swallowed, the food suddenly feeling heavy in your throat. “How’d you even find me?”

A low chuckle slipped from her lips, quiet and knowing. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you.”

You huffed, shaking your head as you lifted another bite to your mouth. “Too busy to stop by, but not too busy to spy.”

She exhaled through her nose, but there was no denial. Only quiet acknowledgment.

“You know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important,” she said, her voice steady, unwavering.

And the worst part?

You knew she was right.

You let Natasha’s words settle in the space between you - heavy, unshakable. She never wasted time on trivial things. If she was here, it meant things were worse than she was letting on.

Your grip tightened around the fork as you forced another bite past the growing lump in your throat. “I already told you - I’m not going back,” you muttered, barely above a whisper.

Natasha didn’t argue. She didn’t scoff or roll her eyes. She just sat there, hands resting on her thighs, watching you with that quiet patience you hated. She knew you too well. Knew you’d be the first to break…

And you did.

“Is she really that far gone?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, quieter this time.

She inhaled, slow and measured. “She’s unraveling.”

A shiver crawled down your spine.

You remembered it too clearly - the way Wanda’s power frayed at the edges when the Witch began to take control, the way she trembled beneath its weight, fighting a battle no one else could see. You had been there, helpless as the Scarlet Witch whispered promises and lies in equal measure, clawing her way to the surface mercilessly.

And you remembered the way Wanda looked at you before she lost the fight - eyes wild with desperation, fingers twitching as if reaching for something… for you…

And then—

She let go.

But you held on.

The memory burned through you, a sharp ache settling deep in your chest. You swallowed hard, blinking against the image, forcing yourself back to the present.

“She’s looking for something,” Natasha said, her voice quieter now, almost secretive. “Or someone.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “And let me guess - you think it’s me.”

She didn’t answer right away. Just held your gaze, steady and unflinching.

You scoffed, setting your meal aside. “I left for a reason.”

“I know.”

“She made her choice.”

“I know.”

Jaw clenched, you exhaled sharply through your nose and pushed off the bed. Sitting felt suffocating. Pacing was better—movement was better than feeling.

Natasha stayed silent, watching as you wore a path into the floor. Then, finally, she spoke, “She’s not just looking for you, Y/N.” A pause, weighted and deliberate. “She’s calling for you.”

Your stomach twisted. Whether you wanted to believe it or not, she was right. And you both knew it.

“You might be the only one who can reach her before it’s too late.”

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Ghost Whisperer || CL16

AN: another one from the archives of forgotten fics.

Summary: gifted with the ability to talk with the dead, you meet a man who wants you to take him to Monaco to check on his godson.

Warnings: mentions of death

Your family holiday had taken a turn when you reached Nice, France, and found the apartment that they had rented was already occupied. They were oblivious to the man who had lived there a decade earlier but your sixth sense had spotted him the moment you walked in the door.

“You’re going to love him,” Jules repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning.

“This isn’t Tinder,” you said to the apparition sitting in the passenger seat of your rental car. “I’m just going to find your friend so you can finally rest.”

“What’s Tinder?”

“Nevermind.”

“And he’s not just my friend,” he corrected. “He’s my godson, he’s family.”

You sighed as you imagined how the conversation would go with a child. It was hard enough trying to explain your gifts to adults who understood what you were saying, they just didn’t believe you. Everyone thought you were just trying to scam them when you said you had a message from a loved one.

“He’s the kindest kid you’ll ever meet. You’ll see.” Jules smiled as you followed his directions and crested over the mountain range to see Monaco in all its summer glory. “Beautiful, right?”

You were awestruck by the sight of the sun on the sea and his smile grew at your loss for words. It was a shame you had to drive when all you wanted to do was sit and watch the city grow before your eyes. Unfortunately it took a huge amount of energy for a ghost to even move a feather so there was no hope of Jules taking over the steering wheel for you.

Once inside the city he directed you to a home that the family had lived in and hopefully still did. The white door had a large brass door knocker in the shape of a lion and it was cold to the touch when you grabbed it.

“Bonjour,” a friendly middle aged woman answered and Jules breathed her name like prayer. “Puis-je vous aider?”

“Do you speak English?”

“Yes, is there something I can help you with?”

You looked to your left and Jules gave you an encouraging smile. “I was hoping to speak to Charles. Is he here?”

You were aware it was a weekday and he was likely at school but it was still disappointing to see Pascale shake her head. “He hasn’t lived here for some time, are you a friend of his?”

She was already growing defensive, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for your answer. “No, we don’t know each other but a mutual friend asked me to pass a message to him.”

“Aw, we are friends,” Jules chuckled and you had to fight to resist rolling your eyes.

“Perhaps I should call my son,” she murmured as she held a hand up. “Just wait here a moment.”

She closed the door behind her and you waited impatiently as you shifted on your feet. “What happens if she doesn’t give up his address?”

“The city isn’t that big, I’m sure we can find him.” His attention turned to the door and he went to nudge you but his elbow went straight through, causing goosebumps to travel across your skin.

“Stop doing that,” you growled as the door opened. Pascale gave you an odd look as she found you alone waiting, but she didn’t ask who you were talking to as she held a phone out.

“He wants to know who this mutual friend is.”

You took the phone and raised it to your ear. “Hello, is this Charles?”

“Yes, now give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the police and have you trespassed?”

You reeled back at the animosity, but also the depth of his voice. He was not the child you had envisioned. “I have done nothing wrong.”

“I understand you are a fan and I appreciate that, but you cannot just keep showing up at my mother’s house and expect to find me. There is a boundary and this is crossing it.”

You pulled back the phone to look at it in disgust before you turned and took a step away from his mother. “I don’t know who you think you are, hot shot, but I was only doing this because your friend asked me to. For some reason he thinks highly of you, but I can’t say the same.”

The seconds dragged on and if it wasn’t for his soft breathing you would have thought the call disconnected. “Who?” he finally asked.

You took a steadying breath knowing this was almost always the point that you lost their interest. “Jules.”

“Goodbye.”

“Charles!” Your ears rang with Jules’ outburst and the screen pixelated before returning to normal to show the call was still connected. Charles’ breathing turned ragged as he choked on his tongue knowing the voice he had heard. Doubt and other emotions roiled his insides but he couldn’t hang up no matter how much he wanted to.

An address rattled off his heavy tongue and Jules recognised the street name, giving you a nod. “I’ll see you soon,” you said as you handed the phone back to his mother.

“Please don’t hurt him,” she asked as she pocketed the device.

“I just want to pass on a message and go back to my holiday,” you promised, though she frowned at the evasive words that created more questions she held back.

By force of habit, her frown deepened when you nodded your head to the empty space beside you and muttered, “Come on then.”

Jules lingered another moment, his hand reaching for Pascale’s only for her to shiver and wrap her arms around herself. With a sigh, he turned away and heard the door click shut behind him.

“She was like a second mother to me,” he said quietly as he caught up. “The kindest woman I knew.”

“You also said Charles would be great but so far that is not how I am feeling.”

Jules had nothing to say to that, but it had been 10 years since his death. Perhaps a decade had changed Charles while Jules remained the same.

–

The apartment building was as pretty as the rest that you had passed but the afternoon sun left a shadow climbing its walls and you couldn’t help feeling like it was an omen as you buzzed his apartment number. Instead of answering, the front door unlocked and you stepped inside apprehensively. Each step on the tiled floor echoed and you followed the apartment numbers as you climbed the stairs to Charles’.

His door was already opened, a handsome man leaning against the doorway, and his eyes narrowed as they scanned you with each step closer. You wanted to elbow Jules for not telling you his godson was Adonis reincarnated but Jules was in his own state of shock seeing Charles grown into adulthood. The boy he knew was long gone, this was a man.

“My mother said to listen to you, that is the only reason you are here.” He stood up straighter, blocking you from seeing the inside of his home. “Say what you need to then go.”

You looked at Jules but he wasn’t any help as his jaw still hung open. You decided to go with honesty but really you were just taking a shot in the dark, he didn’t seem like the type to believe anything that was going to come out of your mouth. “My AirBnB in Nice came with a ghost named Jules and he wanted me to find you.”

Charles' hands dropped limp at his sides before a sharp laugh erupted and he stepped back into this apartment. He reached for his door, ready to slam it closed when Jules emerged from his stupor and whispered a few words for you to repeat.

“Bring it home, underdog.”

Charles froze at the words and nearly stumbled as he spun around. Anger painted his face and he closed the distance in a few strides as he shoved a shaking finger in your face. “What did you say?”

You swallowed at the animosity in his tone before straightening your spine and looking him in the eye. “The only way you show these guys you’re not a charity case is to prove them wrong and win, kid.”

His nose twitched as he struggled to understand the words he had heard once before. “Who told you to say that?”

You jutted your thumb at Jules. “You know who, the same man that told me.”

An array of emotions flitted across his face before settling on disbelief. “That’s not possible.”

“I wish,” you murmured before looking at Jules, and you felt bad. “Sorry.”

“I wouldn’t want that gift either,” he admitted. “Can you tell him he looks strong? And he finally grew into his big head.”

“Jules says you look good.”

“I said strong.”

“Strong, whatever,” you corrected. “He thinks you look strong. And you had a big head. Are you still racing?”

Charles followed your eyes to the space beside you but no matter how hard he tried to focus he couldn’t see anything. “I must be crazy.”

You snorted a laugh at what Jules said before repeating it. “No, you were crazy when you drove for years without knowing how to use the brakes.”

“I was eight,” Charles defended himself before realising that was not something widely known and something akin to wonder brightened his face. “Jules?”

“Yeah, kid, I’m here.”

Charles stepped aside and waved a hand in, urging you to follow him to the dining room table. He grabbed three bottles of water without thinking and then frowned as he put one back, a look of sadness washing over him.

“Don’t feel sad,” you said as you accepted the water. “Good things came about because of his death.”

Charles scoffed and untwisted the bottle cap with more force than necessary, spilling water over his hands. “Not for me.”

“You’re alive because of him, and that makes him happy,” you said, taking his hand across the table and squeezing it. “Because of Jules they made the halo and that saved your life, and others too. He would take the sacrifice any day.”

“Always,” Jules echoed. He placed his hand on top of yours and it drifted through, sending goosebumps up yours and Charles’ arms.

“Jules,” you growled as you shook your hand out, but Charles stared at his in wonder.

“I felt him,” he whispered in amazement. “Mon Dieu!”

—

The next few hours passed by with an onslaught of questions, mostly ‘how’. How do you do it? How long have you seen them? How did you find out?

Slowly the questions became more personal.

“Do you do this for work?”

“No way, well kind of, maybe…I’m studying history. It does help when the old professor still hangs out in the library. He’s happy to help whenever I have questions.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“It’s no different to a tall person playing basketball. Success is just playing to your strengths.”

“Is talking to the dead really a strength?” Jules asked as he crossed his legs and drummed his fingers on his lips, pondering. “Surely you are just missing out on life.”

“I don’t think you’re one to talk, you’re still here when you could be enjoying whatever afterlife awaits.”

“I wish I could hear him,” Charles sighed. “Why hasn’t he moved on?”

You shrugged and looked at Jules for an answer.

“I promised Hervé I would watch over him.”

Charles’ eyes misted and his head bowed as he tried to hide how he wiped the tears away. “I’m an adult now, Jules, you don’t have to stick around for me.”

“I see that now,” he said with a sad smile as he stood up and ruffled Charles' hair. “I love you, kid.”

Charles’ breath shuddered from his lungs as he felt the large hand on his head for a second before it disappeared. “Is he…is he gone?”

You watched Jules step out onto the balcony and warmth flooded the room as he faded into the shimmering light.

“Now he is,” you swallowed the lump in your throat that always came with the final goodbye. Standing up, you looked to the door and wondered if you should quietly leave but when you looked back at Charles, his eyes red and cheeks wet, you knew you couldn’t leave him that way.

Walking around the table, you took a seat next to Charles and took his hand. He broke away from staring silently at the wood grain and knots in the table and sniffled. “Thank you.”

“I would say anytime but…”

You smiled as Charles managed a small chuckle. “I think once is enough, but I wonder…” he looked around the room. “You haven’t seen my father have you?”

You shook your head. “There wasn’t anyone at your mother’s house either. It’s likely if he was at peace then he’s already moved on.”

“Good, that’s good.” He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes, wincing at the dampness on his hands. “Sorry.”

“I’m used to it, you cry as much as you want. There isn’t exactly a right way to feel when it comes to this,” you admitted as you looked out of the balcony to see the marina looking even more beautiful.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” He caught your lingering gaze and cleared his throat. “Maybe I could show you the city?”

“You’re probably in shock. You should rest,” you said with a shake of your head. “But I’m pretty sure I saw Monaco on my mum’s itinerary for next week. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. “Or maybe you could call me?”

[dollettiee]

⊹ 𝓢𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝓥𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦 〟

            ꒰ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ𐭩 yandere husband! gong—yoo/salesman wanted to celebrate valentine‘s day with you, but two men seems to almost ruined your day. 

            ꒰ 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒��(𝑠) .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ𐭩 yandere! gong—yoo x fem! chubby! blind! reader, the two men from sg2

            ꒰ 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡(𝑠) .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ𐭩 mdni. yandere, soft yandere, mentioned of slapping, reference to the bread and lottery episode, reader is blind, not much dialogue cus i was a bit lazy in this one, reader is written as chubby, man is so lovestruck, petnames (honey, darling)

            ꒰ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ𐭩 yes, i am aware that valentine had ended a week or two ago, i had planned to write this the day before my exam 💔 (i als forgor this was in my draft lol)

𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐆—𝐘𝐎𝐎 is a man who thrives on control, his every move calculated, his emotions tightly held under wraps. yet, when it comes to you, his sweet, chubby wife, he‘s a man lost in love. he‘s a master of many things—ruthless in his business, terrifying to his enemies—but with you? he‘s soft. completely and utterly soft.

the world knows him as the man in a perfectly tailored black suit, his hair slicked back, his smile charming yet dangerous. his days are filled with playing ddakji with people who are either in debt, scammed or poor for 100,000 won and slapping his challengers when they inevitably fail. money is never an issue, a suitcase filled with cash a constant reminder of his success.

but when he comes home, everything changes. there, he‘s greeted by his beautiful wife—you—preparing him dinner like a good housewife, despite your blindness. his love for you is immeasurable, and he‘d never dream of raising his voice to you. he wants to protect you, keep you happy, safe from the cruel world outside.

your home is neat, clean, everything in its place, just the way he likes it. he made sure of it, arranging everything to make it easier for you to navigate, even with your limited sight. it‘s a silent expression of his love—his desire to make you feel as comfortable and secure as possible.

but today… today was special.

gong—yoo wanted to make valentine‘s day unforgettable for you. he spent the entire day spoiling you, lavishing you with gifts and his affection. the entire day was filled with laughter, his hands holding yours, kissing each of your fingers as if you were the most precious thing in his world. you were his soft spot, his obsession. the bags in his hands were filled with everything you desired, yet despite your insistence to carry them yourself, he refused. he‘d already done so much for you, but no. he had to do more. always more.

what you didn‘t know was that there were two men following you both. gong—yoo, ever the protector, told you to go inside first. without question, you obeyed.

the men, unaware of the danger they were walking into, followed gong—yoo inside. they were quickly knocked unconscious by a can of food, tied up to chairs, their mouths gagged with cloth. they were now in a room that you were forbidden to enter. gong—yoo had always been clear about it—his office room was not a place for you. he told you it was unkempt and dirty, and you believed him.

but what you didn‘t realize was that the “office” wasn‘t the only thing in that room. it was filled with weapons. guns. the kind of things gong—yoo used when his temper flared.

he stood over the two men, the gun resting in his hand, his demeanor cold and calculating. the rules of the game were simple; play rock-paper-scissors, and the loser gets shot. but it was a cruel twist—only one bullet in the gun. a game of russian roulette disguised as a game of chance.

as the game went on, a knock interrupted the tension. gong—yoo‘s dark, dangerous demeanor melted away the moment your voice reached his ears. the smile that followed was soft, lovestruck, utterly devoted.

“honey? are you okay in there?”

his eyes softened as he motioned for silence, his finger against his lips. “of course, darling. do you need anything?”

the sudden change in tone caught the men off guard. how could someone so ruthless, so frightening, sound so gentle with you? they couldn’t understand it.

you casually asked if he wanted to watch a movie after dinner. gong—yoo‘s heart skipped a beat. his entire body ached with desire to rush to you, but he held himself back. he couldn‘t ruin everything now. he wanted to keep you safe, happy, and blissfully unaware of the darker side of his world. but every word from your lips drove him closer to madness.

“i‘ll be done soon, darling. don‘t worry.” his voice was as soft as velvet, his hand reaching out to hold yours, gently caressing your knuckles as he kissed your palm.

you kissed his cheek, and the simple affection almost made him lose control. “okay, i love you,” you whispered.

��i love you too,” he responded, his voice thick with affection, his hand brushing against your hair as you left.

once the door clicked shut behind you, gong—yoo locked it again, his expression darkening. the gun was back in his hand, his smile turning into something darker, but it was still laced with that love for you—obsessive, possessive love.

“so… where were we?” he asked, eyes gleaming as he turned back to the two men, his love for you making him both gentle and terrifying. his heart beat for you, but his actions? those were still cold, calculated… and deadly.

© all rights reserved ! headers/layouts does not belongs to me ! don‘t copy, plagiarize or modify my works. all works are taken in a form of fiction, do not condone any problematic behavior.

[swizzlemynizzle]

Underneath the Noise - George Clarke

———————————————————————————

Masterlist

Chapter three: Laugh Track

———————————————————————————

By the fifth pub, Y/N’s voice is starting to slur at the edges.

Not dramatically—just enough to notice it herself. Her cheeks are warm, her thoughts a little looser than they were two hours ago. She's riding that golden middle ground between anxiety and abandon, the space where self-consciousness starts to soften around the edges.

She doesn’t quite trust it, but she’s letting herself sit in it for now.

ArthurTV is waving a receipt like a victory flag. “Ten pubs is a scam,” he announces to no one. “It’s just capitalism in a different hat.”

“Mate,” Bach replies, gesturing at him with a chip, “you just spent thirty quid on nachos and a single pint.”

“It came with extra guac,” Arthur says, affronted.

Y/N snorts into her drink.

She doesn’t remember the last time she laughed this much with people she barely knows. Her default setting has always been cautious—a little held back, always scanning the room, looking for cues on when to speak and when to disappear. But today, dressed like a walking punchline and surrounded by people who don’t seem to care about how they’re perceived, it almost feels... safe.

“Okay,” Bach says, peering at the bingo list again. “We still need to: swap shoes, skull a pint on the street, and get a stranger to sing to us. Oh and swim? Even though we did but it was for a bonus point?”

“Who made this list?” Y/N asks, squinting at the chaotic scrawl. “Are they okay? Mentally?”

“Chris,” ArthurTV answers, deadpan. “So, no.”

“Explains a lot,” she mutters. “It’s giving energy drink and repressed trauma.”

Bach grins. “It’s giving ‘second breakfast is the only joy I have left.’”

“Yeah,” Arthur adds. “It’s very ‘Frodo, but with a YouTube channel.’”

Y/N laughs, sharp and surprised. “Are we just bullying Chris for being short now?”

“Not short,” Bach says solemnly. “Hobbit-sized.”

They dissolve into laughter again, loud enough that a guy at a nearby table gives them a look.

By the time they reach the sixth pub of the afternoon, they’re starting to feel the buzz settling deep into their bones. The city around them seems blurrier, friendlier. A drunker London, Y/N thinks, is a slightly more magical one.

They’re halfway through convincing a guy in a Tottenham jersey to sing Bohemian Rhapsody when her phone buzzes again.

Chris

> Tell Bach his big nose is getting in the way of our win

> Also we’re at pub 6. Suck it.

Y/N shows the message to Bach without saying a word.

“Tell Chris I said I hope Sauron wins,” Bach says immediately.

Arthur nods. “Tell him to enjoy his pints in the Shire.”

She grins as she types. Being the group’s designated roaster-by-proxy wasn’t on her bingo list for today, but she’s not mad about it.

Then she sees him again.

George.

Across the street this time, stepping out of a corner shop with Arthur Hill. They’ve got plastic bags in hand and smiles that look way too relaxed for a competition. George spots her first, raising a hand in casual greeting.

She returns it—awkwardly. Her stomach does a weird little somersault.

She hates how aware she is of him. Like her body’s antennae pick up on him before her brain does. It’s not helpful. He hasn’t even done anything new. Just exists nearby, and her pulse decides to act out.

“Earth to Y/N,” ArthurTV says, waving a hand. “You good?”

“Yeah,” she says quickly. “Zoned out for a sec.”

She doesn’t explain what she was zoning out about. No one needs to know she’s mentally editing the way George said Nice shirt earlier like it’s an embarrassing voice note she can’t delete.

Eventually, they do manage to get a stranger to sing for them—badly, loudly, and completely off-key. Bach gives him a standing ovation like he’s just watched Les Mis.

Challenge complete.

By the time they reach pub seven, Y/N’s voice is scratchier and her legs are sore, but the warmth hasn’t left her chest. She feels... light. Like she’s slowly unhooking from the weight she didn’t realize she walked in with.

They wedge themselves into a booth again, chips in the center, drinks in hand. ArthurTV offers her a sip of something that tastes like battery acid. She politely declines.

Then George shows up again.

Of course he does.

He wanders in like he’s not part of a competing team but just happened to find them. Pint in one hand, smirk in place, like the universe told him she was finally starting to relax and he took it personally.

“Thought you guys might be in here,” he says casually.

“Or you were stalking us,” Bach offers.

George ignores him and looks straight at Y/N. “You surviving?”

“Just about,” she says, shrugging. “Haven’t been hit by a car yet, so I’m counting it as a win.”

He chuckles. “Low bar. I respect it.”

He leans against the edge of the booth, not sitting—just hovering in her space enough to make it feel deliberate.

“You’ve got something on your shirt,” he says, motioning vaguely toward her chest.

She instinctively glances down.

“Just kidding,” he says, already grinning. “Wanted to see if you’d fall for it.”

She groans. “You are the worst”

“Pretty sure you love it.”

She rolls her eyes but her mouth betrays her, lips tugging up into an involuntary smile.

ArthurTV watches the exchange like he’s clocking something but wisely doesn’t say a word.

George lingers for another minute, then disappears again. Back into the noise. The pub feels a little louder once he’s gone. Y/N exhales, not realizing she was holding her breath.

Bach eyes her. “You’ve got a little George crush, don’t you?”

Y/N nearly chokes on her drink. “Absolutely not.”

“Uh-huh,” Bach says knowingly.

Arthur raises a hand. “As a neutral third party, I can confirm: you definitely do.”

She buries her face in her hands. “I hate all of you.”

But she’s smiling. And somewhere under the teasing, the embarrassment, and the buzz of too many half-pints and inside jokes, there’s something else.

Something settling.

Something starting.

———————

I’ve already written 14 parts for this story… it goes into normal life streaming together, etc after this. Let me know if you guys like it!!! It’s very slow burn soz 💛💛

Masterlist

[deerlysacred]

❦ one pot ⧼ soldier boy x witch fem!reader ⧽ | playing house

⟆ the first chapter of the ‘playing house’ series.

𐂂 𝄢 friday 04 : 32 p.m. { butcher left you to take care of this famous supe soldier boy for the weekend. }

𖣂 𝄢 fluff.

‼️ 𝄢 i do not own the boys or any of its characters; all rights belong to their respective creators. this is purely a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only, with no intention of profit.

The safe house wasn't much to look at. A shitty little apartment in the middle of nowhere, with peeling wallpaper and a draft that whistled through the cracks in the windows. Butcher and the others had left hours ago, and now it was just you and Soldier Boy.

While they were out playing detective, you were tasked with making sure Soldier Boy —Ben— didn't do something stupid, like get himself killed before the job was done or accidentally vaporize an entire city block in a fit of PTSD. Babysitting duty, basically. Butcher had even been patronizing enough to say, "Keep 'im happy. Maybe cook 'im a meal or somethin'." As if you weren't already the unofficial den mother of this ragtag mess of a team.

So. Cooking it was.

You figured stew would be easy enough. One pot. Minimal effort. Warm, fulling, impossible to fuck up. All you had to do was get through the next weekend without pissing off the most volatile superhuman in history or dying from secondhand smoke inhalation.

Simple.

Except Ben was watching you. Very closely.

Not in the way most men did— sly glances, stolen looks when they thought you wouldn't notice. No, his stare was direct and sharp. It was the kind of look that made you hyper-aware of every movement, of the slow stir of the spoon in your hand, of the subtle hitch in your breath.

Ignore him. He's like an old cat— if you acknowledge him, he'll just do it more.

He was sprawled on the couch, beer dangling lazily between his fingers, the flickering TV screen casting sharp shadows over his face. Even like this —half-drunk and half-bored— he had a presence that was impossible to ignore. Broad shoulders slouched, thick arms corded with muscle resting over the couch. His long legs were spread wide, the denim of his jeans stretching over thick thighs. "What the hell are you even makin' over there?" His gruff voice cut through the quiet, laced with skepticism. "Smells weird."

You glanced over your shoulder for a second, catching him scrunching his nose like a spoiled golden retriever. "It's stew." you said, giving the pot another slow stir.

Ben snorted, bringing the beer to his lips, his throat bobbing with each slow swallow. "Christ. What, Butcher put you up to this? Thought you were my fuckin' babysitter, not my goddamn housewife."

Heat crept up your neck at that, but you ignored it, choosing instead to focus on chopping up some carrots. "Yeah, well, I figured if I let you fend for yourself, you'd either burn this place down trying to use the microwave or get scammed into buying twenty-dollar fast food. So here we are."

"Dont need a goddamn caretaker too. I'm a grown man." he muttered into his beer, but there was something almost amused in his tone. Maybe even… appreciative? You weren't sure. His default setting was 'grumpy' so it was hard to tell.

You scrapped the chopped vegetables into the pot, watching as they disappear beneath the simmering broth. The aroma was actually kind of nice, despite what Ben said.

For a while, there was only the sound of bubbling stew and whatever car chase was happening on TV. Then, Ben spoke up again.

"Didn't know witches cooked." His voice was a low drawl, rough around the edges like he smoked a thousand cigarettes (which, let's be real, he probably had).

"What, you think I survive on eye of newt and bat wings?"

He shrugged, took another swig of his beer, and gestured vaguely at you with the bottle. "Dunno. Figured you just… I dunno, chant some shit and make food appear. Like poof— supper's on the table."

You rolled your eyes. "That's not how magic works."

"Then what's the point?"

Your grip tightened slightly on the spoon. "Oh, I don't know, maybe I like doing things with my hands."

You realized your mistake the second his lips quirked up into a shameless grin.

"Yeah? Bet you do."

You groaned, immediately regretting everything. Maybe if I just jumped out the window— no, bad plan, third floor. Maybe—

Ben chuckled, low and satisfied with himself, as he settled deeper into the couch. "What's in it anyway? Gotta admit it's starting to smell… decent."

You grinned, dropping some salt in with a flick of your fingers. "Beef, potatoes, carrots, some herbs— basic stuff."

He raised an eyebrow. "You do all this by yourself?"

You blinked, a little thrown by the question. "Uh… yeah?"

"Huh." He took another sip of his beer, gaze sliding over you in a way that feels almost calculating. "You'd make a good housewife."

You froze mid-stir, processing that absolute relic of a statement. Then, slowly, you turned to him, wooden spoon still in hand. "Excuse me?"

He smirked, completely unrepentant. "You heard me."

Your fingers tightened around the spoon. "I'll have you know I am not housewife material."

Ben scoffed. "Bullshit. You cook, you clean—"

"I don't clean for you—"

"—you do all that magic hocus-pocus shit, probably got some potion that makes a man sleep like a baby. Bet you'd keep a husband real happy." He leaned forward, propping an elbow on the coffee table, the grin on his face wicked. "Ever think about settling down, sweetheart?"

Your eye twitched. "Yeah. Every day. With arsenic."

Ben barked out a laugh, a real one, amused. "Shit, you got some bite to you, huh?"

You sighed, turning back to the stew before you say something that gets you vaporized. "I don't know what kind of women you were around back in the day, but I'm not some 1950s housewife."

"No shit, women these days got more bark than they used to."

You tossed a disbelieving glance his way. "Gee, I wonder why."

Ben shrugged like it was all the same to him. "Not complaining. I like a girl with some fight in her."

For some reason, that made your stomach do something weird. Not good weird, but… weird. You busied yourself with the stew. "You're impossible."

"I'm a fucking delight."

"Sure."

Silence settled between you, broken only by the occasional pop of the stew as it simmers. Ben watched you for a while, his expression shifting into something more thoughtful. Then, surprisingly, he asked: "How'd you learn?"

You blinked. "Learn what?"

"This." He gestured vaguely to the stove, to you, to the whole cooking situation. "Somebody teach you?"

You hesitated, caught off guard by the genuine curiosity. "Yeah… my mom."

Ben hummed, gaze drifting slightly. "That right?"

"Yeah." You stirred absently, the memory coming back to you. "She used to say that food is one of the simplest ways to care for someone. That a good meal can fix a lot of things."

Ben took that in, quiet for a beat. Then—

"That's some sappy shit."

You sighed. "Of course that's what you take from it."

He smirked. "Hey, you wanna cook for me, I'm not gonna complain. Just sayin' —a blowjob does the same thing and takes half the effort."

WHAT THE—

Your hand twitched violently, almost sending the spoon flying. Ben just laughed at your shock. You didn't throw the spoon at Ben's stupid face, but God, the temptation was there. Instead, you took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand. The stew was done. It smelled rich and hearty, the kind of meal that sticks to your ribs. You grabbed two bowls, ladled some in, and set them on the table, sliding one towards Ben with a little more force than necessary.

"There. Eat."

Ben eyed the bowl, then you, smirking like he could hear every profanity currently screaming in your brain. "Didn't even spit in it. How sweet."

"Yet." you muttered under your breath as you sat across from him.

Ben picked up the spoon, scooping up a chunk of beef and potato. He gave it a cautious sniff —because apparently, despite surviving years of eating God-knows-what, he suddenly didn't trust food— before taking a bite.

His chewing slowed.

You watched him carefully. "Well?"

He didn't answer right away, just chewed, swallowed, and went in for another bite. Then another. His brow furrowed slightly, like was confused. "…Huh."

You raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

Ben pointed his spoon at you. "This is actually pretty fuckin' good."

You snorted. "Wow, thanks. High praise from a guy who probably ate paint as a child."

Ben grinned. "And look how I turned out."

"Oh yeah. Perfect specimen." You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help feeling a little pleased as he kept eating. Soldier Boy, the walking nuclear warhead, was sitting in front of you, wolfing down your cooking like it was the best thing he had in decades.

He gestured at the bowl. "So, this, uh… this is normal now?"

You tilted your head. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Like… people don't eat TV dinners and spam anymore?"

"Okay, first of all, people still eat that stuff. But yeah, home-cooked meals are still a thing. Not everyone survives on frozen shit."

Ben grunted. "Didn't have time to cook back in the day. Always off doin' supe shit. When I was home, I had a hire girl do it."

You gave him a dry look. "Of course you did."

He smirked. "What? S'how it was. You'd have fit right in back then."

You scoffed. "Yeah, except I wouldn't have been cooking for you."

Ben chuckled, shaking his head as he dug back into the stew. For a while, there was just the sound of eating— the quiet clink of spoons against bowls. It was oddly… peaceful.

Then, naturally, Ben ruined it.

"So, what's the deal with you and Butcher?"

You paused mid-bite, blinking at him. "What?"

Ben gestured vaguely. "You two got a thing or somethin'?"

You nearly choked on your food. "What—God, no!"

Ben smirked, clearly entertained by your horror. "That a little too much mustache for ya?" Caressing his beard.

You shuddered dramatically. "Ew. Please. I don't need that image in my head while I'm eating."

"Figured. Butcher doesn't seem like the type to go for weird little witch girls."

You narrowed your eyes. "Weird little witch girls? I'm gonna hex you."

Ben laughed, deep and throaty, one hand drumming against the coffee table. "So if it ain't Butcher, you got someone else?"

You frowned. "Why do you care?"

He shrugged, popping another bite into his mouth. "Just makin' conversation."

You studied him for a moment, then sighed, stabbing at your stew. "No. No one."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "What, a cute thing like you, no boyfriend?"

Your face heated slightly, but you rolled your eyes. "Oh, please. I don't have time for that. I've got more important things to worry about than—" You waved your spoon vaguely. "—dating."

Ben hummed, considering you. "That's a damn shame."

You cleared your throat. "Why? You wanna sign up?"

"Depends. Do I get more stew out of it?"

You scoffed. "Oh, that's what you're after. The food."

"Hey, I ain't gonna lie to you, sweetheart. You cook like this, a man starts thinkin' long term."

You rolled your eyes so hard you nearly sprained something. When you were done, you stood up. "I'm gonna go wash my hands." Ben just grunted in acknowledgment.

You headed to the dingy little bathroom, shaking your head as the faucet rattled before spitting out a weak stream of warm water. Just as you were drying your hands with a towel, you heard it—

Ben's voice, raised and pissed.

Your stomach dropped.

Oh, God. Nononononononono…

You barely dried your hands before rushing out of the bathroom, half-expecting to find him punching holes in the walls or squaring up against some poor delivery guy. Instead, you skidded to a stop in the middle of the living room and found him standing there, broad-shouldered and brimming with barely restrained fury, gripping your phone in one massive hand like he was debating whether to crush it.

"You answered my phone?!" you yelled.

Ben turned his head, green eyes blazing, irritation sharp in the hard set of his jaw. "You didn't answer it," he shot back. "Thought it was somethin' important! Instead, some dickhead named Greg starts yappin' in my ear about 'overdue payments' and 'interest rates'— what the hell kinda scam you wrapped up in?"

Your eyes widened. "Wait— you talked to the bank man?"

Ben crossed his arms, his expression pure fury. "Damn right I did."

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "Oh my god. What did you say?"

"I told 'im to go fuck himself, that's what I said! Told 'im he's a snake oil peddler and if he wants his money so bad, he can come down here and fight me for it like a man."

Your jaw dropped. "BEN."

"What?"

"That was my credit card company! I owe them money!"

Ben blinked, his green eyes zoning out for a second. "…So?"

"So, now they probably think I'm trying to threaten them instead of paying them!"

Ben scoffed, waving a hand. "Good. Maybe they'll stop calling, then. Bunch of bloodsuckers, the lot of 'em."

You groaned again, stomping over and snatching your phone from his grip. "Unbelievable. You threatened my bank!"

Ben smirked, utterly unrepentant, his lips quirking like this was the most fun he had in weeks. "Ain't my fault they folded like wet paper. Bunch of pussies."

"You told Greg to fight you over my credit card bill!"

His smirk widened, slow and wolfish, dimples cutting deep into his bearded cheeks. "Hell yeah, I did. Told 'im I'd meet him anywhere, anytime. Guy backed off real quick."

You stared at him, equal parts exasperated and horrified.

"Y'know what?" You inhaled sharply, shaking your head as you turned away. "I'm just gonna pretend this didn't happen." With that, you flopped onto the couch, grabbing a pillow and covering your face with it, muffling a scream.

You were never letting him near your phone again.

Later that evening, after the dishes had been washed (mostly by you, with Ben half-assedly drying them and complaining the whole time), you made coffee. Because let's be honest, after that absolute disaster Ben caused, you needed caffeine. Badly. You brewed it. Strong, dark, and just slightly sweet.

Ben eyed the two steaming mugs as you set them on the table. "You drink coffee at night?"

You shrugged. "Why not?"

He scoffed, grabbing his. "No wonder you're so high-strung."

You shot him a flat look. You wanted to say 'Says the guy who's been vibrating with unresolved rage since 1984.' but you bit your tongue. Knowing which lines to not cross.

Ben took a sip, his expression barely changed, but the way his shoulders loosened just slightly told you that he approved the taste.

You curled up on the couch, hands wrapped around your mug. "So… now that we're stuck together for the weekend, what do you usually do to pass the time? Besides smoking, drinking, and picking fights with my credit card company?"

Ben smirked over the rim of his mug. "That about covers it, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes. "Figures."

For a while, silence settled. Not awkward, not tense. Just… quiet. The only sounds were the occasional clink of a mug against the table, the low hum of the fridge, and the faint noise of a distant car passing outside.

Then Ben spoke.

"You really think a meal can fix shit?"

You blinked, turning to him. "Huh?"

"That thing you said earlier. About food fixin' things." He didn't look at you, just stared at his coffee. "That just some witchy sentimental crap or do you actually believe it?"

You hesitated, then answered honestly. "I think… it's not about the food itself. It's about what it represents. Taking care of someone. Letting them know they're not alone." You traced the rim of your mug. "Even if it's just for one meal. It's a moment outside of everything else— outside of all the chaos. A moment where you sit down, you eat, and you know, for just a little while, that you're okay. That someone thought enough of you to keep you warm, to make sure you had something real in front of you. Then adding another meal, another evening onto it. Then another, then another… Building something safe and sound with a person."

Ben was quiet. His fingers tapped against his mug in a slow, thoughtful rhythm. Then—

"…No one ever did that for me."

Your chest tightened. You turned to him fully, but his expression was unreadable, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with something distant.

"…Not even your team?" you asked softly.

Ben huffed a bitter laugh. "Yeah, right. Those assholes? They couldn't wait to get rid of me."

You frowned. "Payback."

Ben's grip tightened around his mug. "Yeah. Bunch of goddamn backstabbers. Lied to my fuckin' face. My own team— people I trusted."

The weight in his voice made something twist in your gut. Crimson Countess was already dead. You didn't ask for details— if Ben had killed her, you doubted there was much left to find. But the others… they were still out there. Still breathing. They lived freely while Soldier Boy was trapped in there for years. You did know his reasons to want revenge. Or at least, you had an idea. The experiments, the isolation, the years of being kept in a frozen hellhole with nothing but agony and rage to keep him company.

"…That's why you want revenge."

His eyes flicked to you.

You didn't look away. "I understand that. I may not be in your shoes but I can't even guess how much I would want to get revenge if I was."

Ben exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening as he shook his head. "They don't get to walk free after what they did." His jaw clenched. "They don't get to live their goddamn lives while I spent forty years rotting in a cage."

You swallowed. You could hear it in his voice, that deep, burning rage. But beneath it, buried under layers of anger and bravado— you could hear the hurt.

You hesitated, then you decided to say it anyway.

"…What if it doesn't make you feel better?"

Ben's brows furrowed. "What?"

You held your coffee a little tighter. "What if you get your revenge, but it doesn't change anything? What if it doesn't make the pain go away?"

Ben stared at you.

The question hung in the air, heavy and unspoken.

Then, he scoffed, shaking his head. "Christ. You always this fuckin' sentimental?"

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Just something to think about."

Ben didn't respond right away. He just took another slow sip of his coffee, his gaze distant, like he was turning your words over in his head.

For once, he had nothing smart-assed to say. And for some reason, that unsettled you more than anything else.

You pushed yourself up with a yawn, your eyelids getting heavier. "Alright. I'm calling it. I need sleep."

"Tch. Lightweights, all of you."

You ignored that. "There's a room for you down the hall. I set up the bed earlier."

That got his attention. He turned, giving you a slow once-over before he smirked. "That right? Real cozy set-up we got here. What, you tucking me in too, sweetheart?"

Your eye twitched. "No. But I will hex you into insomnia if you keep pushing it."

Ben chuckled, low and amused, but thankfully he didn't tease further. He stretched— an obnoxiously big stretch, broad chest rising, arms flexing, before he finally stood with a groan. "Fine, fine. Since you're gettin' all cranky."

You rolled your eyes, already padding toward the bedrooms. The safe house was small, so it wasn't much of a walk. Just two rooms, side by side, with a narrow hallway between them. You stopped in front of your door, reaching for the knob, when you heard Ben behind you.

"This one mine?" He nudged the door beside yours with his boot.

"Yeah." You stifled another yawn. "There should be clean blankets in there."

Ben huffed. "You really went all out, huh?"

You glanced over your shoulder. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with a tired yet amused look.

You shrugged. "Just figured you'd rather not sleep on a couch that smells like stale beer and mix of suspicious liquids."

Ben snorted. "Sweetheart, I spent years sleeping in a fuckin' icebox. I ain't picky."

There was something about the way he said it— too casual, too offhand— that made your chest tighten a little.

You hesitated. There was a beat of quiet, only the faint hum of the old heater filling the space between you. You shifted on your feet. "…Well. If you need anything, just—" You gestured vaguely towards the wall between your rooms. "Bang or… whatever."

Ben's lips quirked. "That an invitation?"

Your fingers tightened around the doorknob, nails pressing into the cool metal. The way he looked at you now —hooded gaze, mouth curled just enough to be tempting— it sent something warm curling in your gut, heat prickling at your neck.

You exhaled sharply through your nose, gripping the door handle. "Goodnight, Ben."

"Night, witchy."

You groaned, stepping into your room and shutting the door with a click. But as you laid back down, the sounds of the apartment settling around you, the knowledge that he was right there, just on the other side of the wall, was… strangely comforting. You didn't want to think further why you felt that…

[gam3r-girli3]

❛ lust at first bite ❜

PART ONE | you can find part two here

From a distance, one might mistake them for an intoxicated couple being a little too intimate in public, making onlookers blush and quickly look away. But the sinking feeling in Arthur's gut said otherwise.

The first thing he noticed when she lifted her head - aside from the blood dripping down the corners of her full lips - was her eyes. The way that even in the darkness they shone like two brilliant rubies, almost as red as the blood that dripped down her chin and onto the ground.

Arthur had never seen anything so lethal and otherworldly yet so dangerously beautiful at the same time. She looked like a goddess, an avenging angel. The phrase 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned' sprung to mind, because the way she was glaring at him was nothing short of furious.

"Can't a lady enjoy her meal in peace?" she hissed, voice venomous.

Arthur's fingers twitched on his holster, wrapped securely around the handle of his revolver.

The woman (creature? she-devil?) noticed. Her lips curled up into a mocking smile, almost bordering pitying.

"Do you really think bullets will hurt me?" she purred, stepping away from the body and paying it no notice as it slumped down on the ground, devoid of life.

"What were you doin' to that man?"

She tilts her head, coy and mischievous. "What do you think?"

Arthur's eyes narrow in suspicion. "I ain't quite sure what to think."

Her head falls back and a melodious laugh bounces from her open mouth. It sends shivers down his spine, filling him with a sense of primal dread, like a prey caught in the snare of a predator.

Run, his gut screams. Shoot, his instincts roar after years of being a gunslinging outlaw.

With her head tipped back and her mouth open, Arthur thought he saw a glimpse of - could that be? It was. Fangs. Elongated fangs, the tips coated in fresh blood.

"I think you stumbled upon the wrong alley in Saint Denis, cowboy."

Arthur couldn't agree more.

Once her laughter - haunting, frightening, alluring - dies down, she takes a moment to observe him in silence that causes goosebumps to prick on his skin, his hair standing on edge. His entire body was on alert, aware that he was in the presence of something truly dark and malevolent and wrong.

He breaks the silence first, unable to stop the question from spilling out. "What the hell are you?"

She merely blinks, lips still curled upwards. "Guess."

Irritation bleeds into his voice, his frustration building. "You ever give a straight answer?"

"I find plain answers boring. I prefer riddles." She takes a step forward, testing. "Why else would you be here? You followed all my clues."

Arthur swallowed thickly. He'd almost forgotten about the strange writings he'd found on the walls in alleyways and on the corners of buildings he'd discovered around the city. At first, he'd thought it a little curious and amusing, but as he'd stumbled upon a few more, he'd began to actively try and track down the rest, his curiosity growing into something more insatiable.

The writings had formed a map - a map that led him here, to her.

She'd led him here from the very beginning.

And the look gleaming in her eyes said that she enjoyed every second of his confusion and fear.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

His eyes fall to the corpse slumped motionless on the ground. She notices where his eyes drift to and her lips curl even more, flashing a sliver of those sharp fangs at him.

"You're afraid."

Arthur wants to protest. It's a natural instinct to deny his fear, but the words die on the tip of his tongue.

He's been running from the law for years, pulling off train and stage coach robberies, even running scams with Hosea. He's killed a lot of people, mostly ones who deserved it. Rival gangs often targeted him on the road, ambushed him when he came to a bridge or a slope. He'd dodged countless bullets, even survived a few that he couldn't move out of the way of quick enough. His body - old and ugly as it was, made even uglier by the innumerous scars he had to prove it all.

But something about this encounter made all of that feel like nothing but child's play. He'd gladly take a bullet than be where he was, trapped in the hungry gaze of a deadly predator, a creature he didn't quite understand.

"It's alright to be afraid. It's only natural," she says, cool as the breeze, as if she wasn't still wearing her 'meal' on her chin, dripping down from the corners of her upturned lips.

"Nothin' about this seems natural to me."

A hum reverbetes from her throat. "I suppose you're wondering if you're going to be my dessert."

There it was.

Arthur's hand tightens around his revolver and he rips it out of the holster, lightening quick, like he'd done many times before in a draw - only, unlike any draw he'd been in, he was far too slow.

In the blink of an eye, within the time it'd taken him to draw his gun, she was mere inches in front of him.

His heart leaapt up into his throat. No human could have moved that fast. It wasn't possible.

She wraps her hand - slender, pale, soft looking - around the barrel of the revolver, gently tilting it up to her head. Her ruby eyes lock with his, unafraid, unblinking.

"You can shoot if you want," she drawls gently. "But it won't kill me - not for long, anyway."

The outlaw is frozen, taken by surprise. Usually when he'd aimed a gun at someone, they'd cower or shoot back. Never had anyone stared back at him so calmly. Death usually invoked a reaction of fear or anger, but never acceptance.

Her relaxed composure never faltered. There was no flicker of alarm or panic in her eyes, nothing to suggest she was staring down the barrel of a gun - literally.

"Or, you can receive your reward for finding me."

Those words jarred him out of his confusing maelstrom of thoughts.

"Reward?" He echoes uncertainly.

"Did you think I just led you here to feed from you? You tracked down all my clues and then found me. You've earned a reward."

A shiver of uneasiness and something else - something hungrier, almost anticipatory - shot down his spine.

Those words had no business sounding so damn alluring coming from the mouth of such a bloodthirsty monster. But she wasn't just a monster - or rather, she was, but in the body of a beguiling, ethereal woman.

Like a pretty flower one might stumble upon in the wilderness and decide to pick it - only to realise soon after touching it that it was indeed poisonous. But something about this particular deadly flower standing before him made that poison seem almost worth dying for a taste of.

yes i played the vampire mystery in saint denis the other day and yes i couldn't stop picturing arthur with a fem!vampire reader where he isn't sure if he's more scared or turned on oop-

lmk if you want a part 2 where arthur gets his 'reward' 😉

PART TWO

[ pics in collage do not belong to me - all were found on pinterest ]

[hqbaby]

three — have to be

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2.5k content. profanity, college kids being stupid, some angsty feels

Contrary to popular belief, college isn’t that different from high school. No one magically matures overnight and goes from being a snot-nosed brat to a sophisticated adult. Try as you might, it just isn’t the way things go.

College is essentially just high school on steroids. The cliques are more exclusive, padded with unwritten rules and covert acts of initiation. Bullies are more subtle, if not more vicious. And the gossip? Well, the gossip is just as venomous, and news spreads just as fast.

Today’s item of interest is one for the books: The big breakup between the campus crush and the golden boy who bagged her. How they ended things rather abruptly. And how they’re both already dating different people only three weeks later.

“Apparently, you cheated on him,” Nobara tells you, pulling out the lollipop she has in her mouth. “Or you cheated on him. It depends on who you ask.”

“I heard that you were sleeping with a professor,” Maki says.

You frown at her, adjusting your bag on your shoulders. “Yaga?”

“No.” She grins. “Gakuganji.”

You gag at the thought. Which sicko came up with that? Probably Kento, you think. The prick.

The three of you are on your way to a meeting for a pre-law society you joined back in your first year. You’re not quite sure you want to be a lawyer and Maki’s made it clear that she’s just in it for the parties, but as Nobara says, it’s for the connections.

A lot of college has felt like a complete scam to you, if you’re being honest. The classes are fine enough and you occasionally meet interesting people, but for the most part, you’re well-aware that everyone here’s either just coasting or trying to one-up one another. You can’t complain though. In the end, you’re a part of it all.

“I heard something interesting though,” Nobara says, and there’s a dangerous tone in her voice that has you crawling out of your skin. “More than a few people are saying that you’re dating someone new.”

Maki nods, looking at you with a raised brow. “I heard that too.”

“Someone from the business department apparently,” Nobara adds. “Someone you’re incredibly close with.”

You swallow as your two friends turn to you for an answer to their accusations. You and Sukuna made your sham relationship “official” just a few days ago and you haven’t had the time to tell either of them about it. If you’re being honest, you’ve been avoiding the topic for as long as humanly possible because you already know what they’re going to say about the whole thing.

It’s one thing for you to be friends with him despite their clear dislike of him, it’s an entirely different thing to be dating him. To the public’s knowledge at least.

“I was going to tell you guys about that,” you say quietly.

Nobara gapes, dropping her lollipop on the ground. “You’re fucking with us.”

“Before you say anything—”

“Holy shit!” Maki exclaims. She stops in her tracks and grabs your shoulders, shaking you as if to shock some sense into your system. “No. You’re not doing this.”

“I know Satoru fucked you up, but this is not the way to deal,” Nobara tells you. Her arms are flailing around as she tries to get her point across. She probably thinks you’re in too deep, madly in love with the asshole she’s done nothing but warn you about. “Where’s your phone? You’re breaking up with him right now.”

You can’t help but laugh at your friends’ hysterics. Much to their horror.

Maki’s grip on your tightens. “This is serious, babe. It’s not happening.”

“Will you just let me speak?” you say, the laughter shaking your voice. “I’m not dating Sukuna.”

They both let out a sigh of relief.

“But I am pretending to.”

“What kind of fucked up game are you playing?” Maki demands. She’s let go of you now at least. That’s something. “Explain, bitch.”

You roll your eyes and continue walking straight ahead, forcing the two of them to hurry along after you. “It’s just a thing we’re doing,” you say. “It’s basically a joke.”

Nobara groans. “Well, it’s not funny,” she says. “Why are you doing this?”

“I dunno,” you tell her. “I’m petty, I guess.”

They’re clearly displeased with your non-answer. You realize that it was more than ridiculous trying to hide it from them in the first place. There’s really nothing to hide.

“We went to a party over the weekend,” you say. “And Satoru was there… with Kimi.”

Maki purses her lips, but you can tell that she understands. She understands you more than she wants to. She was there with you before the breakup, she saw how much the whole thing had been weighing on you, and she was there immediately after it happened. She saw just how badly the whole thing wrecked you. She knows that you’re being stupid, but she also knows you.

It’s Nobara who scowls and shakes her head. It’ll take more than that to convince her.

“So?” she says. “Then date one of the many guys who throw themselves at your feet. Or get a girl! You’re due for a girl. Pick literally anyone else but him.”

You chuckle at her insistence, draping your arm over her shoulder and squeezing her against you. “I don’t want anything real right now,” you tell her. “All those people want a real relationship that I’m just not ready for, and they don’t deserve to be led on. Besides, Sukuna’s the only one I trust to do something this stupid with.”

“See, that’s how I know you’re fucked in the head,” she says. “You cannot trust a guy like Sukuna. He’s an ass.”

“He’s also my best friend.”

Nobara hangs her head at that. “You know, I wish I’d met you sooner,” she tells you. “Then, I would’ve gotten you away from that asshole before he got his fangs in.”

“I know him,” you say, leaning your head against her. “You gotta trust me on this.”

She wraps her arm around your waist and holds you tight for a moment, then sighs. “If he tries anything stupid though, I will kill him.”

���I’ll help,” Maki says. She goes in front of you, walking backwards so she can keep her eyes on yours. “You’re sure about this?”

You nod, reaching your hand out to grab hers. “I’m sure,” you say. “And it’s only for a month. I’ll probably be ready to move onto something real by then.”

The meeting has been going on for hours. They’re not usually this bad when all you have to talk about is a fundraiser or a seminar or a statement against the school administration or something menial like that. But the agenda today is loaded.

The trip.

The big trip that everyone in the society always gets worked up over. It’s the big event of the year, a weekend where the whole group goes somewhere new and gets completely wasted. 

It isn’t enough that you do charity work or contribute to the campus life like any other club would. It isn’t enough that you all see each other on a weekly basis to party at someone’s house or head to a bar together. To truly make the “connections” that Nobara speaks of, you have to relocate everyone to a beach or camp in the mountains or get locked together in a cabin in the woods.

It’s for bonding, they say. But with how everyone’s arguing right now, you’re almost worried that the whole group is just going to end up hating each other. Just another part of the college experience as they say.

“We are not going to an active volcano for our trip,” Utahime says. “It’s stupid and, honestly, not fun at all.”

Mahito huffs at that. “What’s more fun than knowing that we could die at any moment?” he asks like it’s a completely normal thing to say. “You guys just want to go to the beach again and that’s boring.”

“Where would we even sleep?” Aoi points out.

Utahime nods and looks at Mahito with venom in her eyes. “Exactly.”

“As if anyone sleeps on these trips anyway.”

You raise your hand. “I vote against the volcano.”

“So where would you have us go?” Mahito asks. “Kento’s house?”

The man in question scoffs. “As if I would ever let you in my house.”

“I think the beach is fine,” Nobara says. “We always have fun there anyway.”

“We went there last year though,” you say against your better judgment. When Nobara looks at you like, How are you not siding with me on this? You mouth a quick “sorry.” Then, “Camping’s fun.”

“Bugs,” Mahito.

“Oh, and you think there isn’t anything gross on a volcano?” Utahime.

“What about Aoi’s cabin?” Kento.

“My dad just sold it.” Aoi.

“I vote beach.” Maki.

“Thank you!” Nobara.

The conversation goes round and round. Everyone has an opinion, everyone has something to say, everyone has something they don’t like or don’t want to do. It seems like the whole thing will never end.

“Ski trip,” you say suddenly. The room goes silent. “We’ve never been before, and it’s doable. The budget’s pretty good this year. I think we could swing it.”

Everyone looks at Kento, the keeper of the books, as he turns to his laptop to crunch the numbers. After a moment of typing, he looks up and nods.

“It’ll have to be after the children’s rights fundraiser though,” he says. “We have to make sure we can make the downpayment on the hall for the kids, but after that…”

Everyone looks at Utahime now, the club president who has the final word on everything. “Fine,” she says eventually. “Ski trip it is.”

There’s a round of “finally”s and “fuck yeah”s and patting each other on the back for a job well-done.

“Now, about the children’s rights fundraiser,” Utahime says. “We should really start planning that.”

Everyone groans and there’s eventually a call for a five-minute break.

“We should really kick Mahito out at this point,” Nobara whispers to you as she rests her head on the table. “He doesn’t even do his job half of the time.”

You pat her head and laugh. “He’s harmless,” you tell her, getting up from your seat. “I’m gonna go pee.”

“I’ll come,” Maki says, following you out the door.

The two of you link your hands together and swing them wildly as you make your way to the restroom, a habit you two formed in freshman year when you refused to be suffocated by the crowds of people going from classroom to classroom. Despite seeming like two completely different kinds of people on the surface, the two of you are just menaces at heart. It’s why you’re such good friends.

As you approach the restroom, you can hear a group of girls talking loudly inside.

“Locker room talk,” Maki says, wiggling her eyebrows at you with a smirk on her lips.

You snort, the voices becoming clearer now.

“You’re so lucky.”

“Is he good in bed?”

“He’s lucky to have you.”

“You guys are so embarrassing.”

You stop in your tracks. The last voice is so familiar, terrifyingly so. It’s a voice you’ve heard from a few feet away. In front of you in a line. In the back of a classroom. On the court, counting out the timing for the next steps of the cheerdance.

“He’s really sweet though,” the voice says. “Just this morning, he showed up at my dorm with a bunch of flowers. He said he got them ‘just because.’”

Maki is watching you with concern, confused by why you’ve suddenly stopped moving, why your breath has seemed to hitch in your throat.

Just because.

A bouquet of now-wilted flowers on your kitchen counter. A teddy bear from a carnival tucked beneath your bed. A tennis racket you made him swear not to buy that showed up in your locker one morning before practice. Just because.

The restroom door swings open and four girls walk out. One of them—

“Kimi.”

The name slips from your mouth before you even realize it. You want the earth to swallow you whole at this moment. For the current to drag you under. For the heavens to crack open.

The girl looks at you with wide eyes. Guilt, you can tell. Pity.

She says your name this time. “Hi,” she says a little nervously. “How are you?”

Just like Maki, her friends watch the situation unfold from a careful distance. Will one of you lunge at the other? Will you pretend to be the best of friends? Should they come closer? Should they stay back?

“I’m doing well,” you tell her. The voice that comes out of you doesn’t feel like your own. You only realize now that you’re smiling. There’s a hint of smugness to it, a hint of callousness, cruelty. “I take it you and Satoru are going strong.”

She seems to catch your tone. Unintentional of course, but she doesn’t know that. All trepidation seems to leave her body, replaced by a similar coldness. “Yeah, we are,” she says. “I hear you and Sukuna are an item now.”

You try not to cringe at the implication. You’ve traded Satoru, the golden boy, for Sukuna, the bad idea. No point regretting it now.

“Yeah,” you say. End this now, you think. “Well, Maki and I have a meeting to get back to.”

“Oh, sure,” she says sweetly, stepping out of your way. Her friends follow suit. “See you around.”

You take Maki’s hand and wave at the girl as she passes by. “See you.”

The two of you walk into the restroom and let the door close behind you. You’re looking at each other now, breathing deeply as you hear the girls outside walk away.

“That was fucking insane,” Maki finally says.

“Tell me about it.”

You both burst out laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation. It’s not a big deal, if you’re thinking logically, seeing your ex’s new girlfriend in a restroom. You all go to the same school, it’s not like you can avoid each other. Still, the whole thing brings out a viciousness in you that you can’t quite control, one that’s always ridiculous in hindsight.

You go into the bathroom stalls, still laughing.

“You were so cold,” Maki tells you from the stall beside you. “I was so proud, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“I was mean!” you exclaim. You groan as you reach for the toilet paper. “She’s so telling him about that.”

“No way. It’d be embarrassing.”

You pull your pants up and head out to wash your hands in the sink, waiting for Maki to finish. “She knows about Sukuna.”

“Yeah,” she says. “How do you feel about that?”

“Humiliated.”

She steps out of the stall and washes her hands in the sink beside yours. “You still think the whole pretend-dating thing is worth it?”

You shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s done is done,” you tell her. “Sunk cost, baby.”

Maki dries her hand and looks at you seriously now. “Are you okay?”

Just because.

The words echo in your head. Words that have only ever been spoken to you now tainted by her voice.

“No,” you tell her. When she looks at you with furrowed brows, all you can do is shrug. “But I’ll have to be.”

notes. a little insight into reader's student life and bit of her bitchy side 👀 these chapters are getting longer than i'm used to lmao i fear the plot is getting away from me and just dragging me along for the ride at this point

[madtzie]

Top moments that prove the Iliad is a comedy

- ‘Ares slapped both his sturdy thighs in grief’. This is an actual quote in the book. I am not making this up. I now cannot get this mental image out of my mind. Ares does this when he finds out his son died. Why. Why.

- Everyone except for Diomedes consistently, constantly, and mercilessly hating on Thersites. Fair enough, I hate him too. (Who doesn’t?)

-Menelaus gets slightly grazed in the leg by a Trojan soldier. Agamemnon freaks out and prematurely prepares a dramatic eulogy for his brother, who is alive and literally standing next to him

(Agamemnon: I can’t believe my brother is dead.

Menelaus: Dude, I’m fine. I’m right here.

Agamemnon: Sometimes it’s like I can still hear his voice)

- Odysseus telling Achilles to shut the hell up and sit his ass down because Odysseus is older and smarter and Achilles is being a little bitch.

- This works

- Athena rigging the funeral games to make Odysseus win

- Greater Ajax gets salty that Odysseus is winning and says that Athena is hovering over him like his mother (Great Ajax pulls the ‘ur mom’ card)

- Agamemnon getting a dream telling him he should attack Troy and waking up every Greek general at 3 am because he had a dream. The other generals are, naturally, pissed at Agamemnon for waking them.

- Nestor. Everything about this guy. His sass, his stupid long rants, everything. Why is he even here? The dude’s like 80 years old. And he has like 300 sons. AND he’s still alive in the odyssey, is this guy indestructible ? Nestor deserves to retire.

- Odysseus and Diomedes going on a completely random and unnecessary metal gear solid mission in the middle of the night. Did nothing to advance the plot, but it was fun so I’m here for it.

- Odysseus (on said mission) promises Dolon that they’re not going to kill him if Dolon gives him information about the Trojan camp. Diomedes then immediately decapitates Dolon.

- Achilles mourning for Patroclus by covering himself in dust. I appreciate the homoeroticism, but can we be a little more aware of our personal hygiene?

- Incredibly long, convoluted, unnecessary descriptions of background ncps - their heritage, their armour, what their father did ten years before they were born - only for them to die in on the second page.

- Helen being incredibly passive aggressive the entire book

- Diomedes being an absolute UNIT on the battlefield. This man is cooking the Trojans harder than Gordon Ramsey cooks people who mess up a crème brûlée.

- Diomedes meeting a Trojan man in the middle of his rampage and realizing that their grandfathers met each other once. They immediately become best buddies and trade armour, except the Trojan man gets totally scammed.

- Goddam bucket lists

- Hera seducing Zeus into sleeping with her so that the Greeks will start winning

- Athena giving Diomedes a power-up during battle and telling him not to mess with any gods, except Aphrodite, because she’s a wimp.

There’s more, trust, one day I’ll make a part two

[theladybrownstarot]

VAMPTAROT SCAM

Well , I would first thank @vamptarotscam to bring this matter in the light of other audience here , making them aware about the money scam that has been acted upon by @vamptarot through guilttraps . I remember the reader as someone I found genuine through the reading . I was skeptical about saying anything on this after I saw her suicide post but as reader who has voiced a few times for others I didn't feel this as a right thing to not share my views or voice for it ..

I'm sorry for those who invested their money to get a reading from them but never got them back , I pray that they get the justice they deserve .

Personally, I have few people I already know are scammers as readers but I didn't exposed them just because few people told me that there's no point since this is gonna happen many times well hilariously or sadly whatever , the scammer themselves said this , "what will you do ? It's gonna happen anyways so better be shut than seeking attention" and I fell for it but I won't now at all after introspecting again deeply.

To @vamptarot : I have no intention to be rude to you , comment you down or Say anything because I don't know what's going with you personally but at same I cannot ignore what people are going through . It's matter of fact that my saying won't change anything till the person changes themselves so please change yourself and work for it . If you are so supporting yourself with reasons than why not actually show us the evidence than arguing back ? But at Same time it won't change the money scam that you did intentionally or unintentionally depending personally on you.

I'm keeping my perception balanced here , mediocrity but more towards in support of those who you have scammed up . You have broken the trust of many people here so you have bit of conscience left than please act upon it than saying anything..

To @vamptarotscam : I have seen your posts but I stumbled upon one of them where you mentioned that those who were just silent and watched are just after money. Personally this is quite biased and wrong . We have our own share of experiences and opinions that we keep to ourselves or interact only within the blog ..we have priorities no doubt but we have also our personal reasons that we do not reveal because people finger out saying, "you are seeking attention" at same time humble and genuine readers like me open our arms to those who suffered or are seeking help . If someone is not comfortable than they are not and if someone is than they are - it depends personally on them and we cannot force them because it won't make anything different , it's comes from inside .You have your views and we have ours so solely based on your side you cannot judge us on that we are potentional scammers or only after money.

Many of us don't directly interact on posts but go there talking it out personally. Some of us just reblog / like and some of us actually make post or comment down or vis-a-vis. Everyone has their own way to be accountable exception to other cases which varies personally to everyone.

So, please I respect your role in exposing and voicing up but I do not support this belief fully on the whole point .

Simply here I'm not supporting any particular person , I'm supporting to those who have suffered or are suffering from any side in general or personally.

[livelaughlovesubs]

guess who's back, back again, it's 🃏 anon back at it again!

so. Sampo Koski (i'm fully inclined to say his full ass name because why not, it's hilarious) recently i had a big craving for his bratty little ass, so i was thinking, maybe reader (gn or otherwise) getting way too tired of his quips and just... fucking him roughly, rough sex, bondage (or any form of BDSM), some (or a lot of) manhandling and a teensy bit of a blood (either from clawing or biting can work!) can work really well!

but honestly, go wild i don’t really mind whatsoever, i’m swamped with work right now and i just need to satisfy my needs from them lolol.

so, again, have fun with this request!

from, le 🃏 anon!

Hello hello~! Great to see you again. After two whole months, I hope you aren’t that swamped with work anymore? Haha

Dom!reader x sub!sampo - reader is gn

Warning: bondage, pegging (I use dick), rough sex, slapping, manhandling, chocking, scratching, mention of death, hair pulling, edging

It was a mistake to trust him.

Seriously, this man is wanted by the guards and owns the infamous image of a liar, how could you believe in his words? Maybe they were just too sweet, too tempting and irresistible. Even so, it doesn’t justify how stupid you were to trust him. That sweet yet two faced smile, it made you blind. I mean- how dared he scam you with low quality ropes?!

All you wanted was to buy some nice, pretty ropes, and he even gave you a discount. Then he talked big about how well he threats his customers, and that he’d personally bring it to your house. Though the moment you glanced at the item, seeing the rough texture and poor handicraft, your jaw dropped. No wonder the price was so damn cheap, this guy tried to rip you off! Who did he take you for? This won’t do, you wasn’t someone easy who’d let it slide after him apologising. You’ve been so excited to receive it after all, that’s why you had to teach him a lesson.

You grabbed him by his arm and dragged him inside, throwing him onto the ground. The rope slipped from his hands, landing next to him. A cold look in your eyes and you kicked his sides, telling him to get onto the bed. He eventually obliged, then you began stripping his clothes. Sampo let you do it with a sheepish smile and dropping eyes, chuckling satisfied. That lewd little fox just loved it when you are rough with him, when you push him around and put him in his place. Now his face was being pushed into a fluffy pillow while his ass was high in the air, kneeling basically. Wrists near his ankle as you brought the red rope closer to him, straightening it out then whispering, “hold still.”

With a swift move, you tightened the knot around his wrist, pulling with all your strength. He groaned a little and bawled his hands into fists, fully aware that there will be bruises on the next day. “Most esteemed customer~ why… are you testing your product on me?” His voice got higher towards the end, a sense of excitement hidden under the surface. “Hah, come on, we are more than just merchant and buyer.” You reminded him while giving his bare butt a harsh slap, leaving behind a red mark. “Nghh~! Ahaha! Oh y/n, you are as fascinating as ever.”

That’s right, you two have shared some intimacy before and despite the relationship you both had he still tried to scam you. “Save your flattery for later. Now, tell me, does this feel like quality ropes?” You asked him with a scorn, in the meantime opening the lit of a bottle. The tall male had a rather sarcastic expression, acting like he didn’t know. Though the answer was as clear as day. He could feel it rub against his flesh, irritating and burning his skin. It had an itchy feeling to it, yet it also hurt, causing the area around it to turn red.

A faint blush covered the cheeks of the boy. His breathing was heavy and ragged, sweat forming on his forehead. Then you grabbed his roots and yanked on his hair, making him arch his back into a crescent shape, mumbling, “answer me.” The rather rough treatment was immediately met with a loud moan, “uhhH-nNNGhhh~! Ah, be gentle, y/n..” finally he looked at you, mouth parted and tongue hanging out a little. His face also reddened by a few shades, the corners of his lips were curled into a grin.

“I take it you know what this means for you?” You sighed and asked him, squeezing a large amount of lube onto your inner palm. He acted like he didn’t know, staying quiet and making a -hmm?- sound. So you continued with, “your punishment, for deceiving me.” Then you stuck two fingers inside his hole, fingering him sloppily. “Punish.. ment? Ah-ngHhhh..! To-too rough~♡” Sampo threw his head back, his blue-white hair bouncing around. “Yes, punishment for bad boys.”

Seeing how he shuddered and shook, you deemed him prepared enough and pulled your fingers out. Afterwards you lined the tip of your length to his hole, followed by you dropping the bottle onto the ground and grabbing his waist with both hands. Holding him, making him stick his ass out some more. “Mhmm~ ha, haah… don’t hold back now, dear customer.” His breathing became even more ragged, he was obviously enjoying this. “What a fucking whore.” You chuckled, giving his bottom another squeeze, spreading his hole with two fingers before penetrating him.

You slowly pushed the tip in, noticing how his shoulders jerked upwards, the oh so familiar grin returned to his wet lips. Since he was taking this so well, you might as well speeding up the process. With one snap of your hip, you pushed the rest of it inside him, your pelvis hitting his ass. “NgGGHhh~!! Ah- f-fuck, so good, more, ha- mHm, do me harder ♡♥︎!” Sampo cried out, hands wrapped around his own ankle, grip tightening with all his might. He wanted to trash around so bad, though the restrains weren’t bulging in the slightest. Keeping him in check, unmoving and restricted.

Without wasting much time, you began moving, thrusting your dick in and out of him at a fast pace. “AhHh!” He moaned at the sensation, at you rubbing against his walls and hitting places so deep inside him that it made him see stars. Then you leaned closer to him, grabbing his hair again as you whispered into his ear, “You said harder? Let’s see if you can take it then.” After that you licked his earlobe, running your tongue all over the shell while moving your hips ruthlessly. “NGhhh! Y/nnn~! Ah, t-touch me more!” He whimpered, wanting you to show some attention to his leaking member, but you ignored him.

Instead, you opened your mouth and bit his shoulder, trying to raise the speed even more. The hand on his hip gripped him harsh enough to leave bruises, the other one accidentally ripped off some strains of hair from his scalp. You bit down even more when his voice hitched, enough to draw out some fresh drops of blood. At this point he was a withering mess, crying with such a dumb yet blissful expression on his face, his blush spread to his shoulders as well. “OoOhhhH, AHHnnHgg fuuuck!! There, r-right there, so good, fuck me more, more!!” A series of unintelligible words left him, echoing through the lust-ridden room.

The pain he felt from your rough treatment, from the newly gotten bruises and wounds all faded away the moment you found his sweet spot. Not only that, you’ve been abusing that poor area with such brutality he felt like he was gonna die. Each time the tip pressed and hammered against that spot, his head would empty themselves and more tears would fell from his eyes. Drool was hanging out of his mouth as you relentlessly pounded into him, panting and doing your best to keep the tempo up.

“Hah… this is hardly a punishment for you, isn’t it?” You scoffed under your breath, feeling a little bothered by it. That’s why you slapped and scratched his butt again, cursing out, “look at what a fucking pervert you are, Sampo koski.” After drawing some blood with your nails, you insulted him, smirking sadistic. His face was quite a sight to behold, so chaotic and blushy, so damn adorable. “UhHHmm!~♡♥︎ GuUughhh!!” All he did was whimpering and moaning like some dog in heat, struggling against his restrains while his cock leaked his filthy pre onto the bed. With all the remaining strength he had, he meekly trust his hips back against you, trying to get you to go even further.

Then you stopped, very abruptly. “Ah-ahhh..?” A confused squeak escaped him. Hands still holding his hips while he sobbed into the pillow, but you didn’t move at all. “Shall I just leave you like this? Considering you aren’t seeing this as a punishment.” You asked yourself, though talked loud enough for him to hear, you wanted him to know. “uhhh- huuu~?? N-no! Don’t stop y-yet!” His voice was rough and hoarse from his screaming his lungs out. That man really has no shame considering how loud his volume was the entire time.

He turned his head back, trying to look at you. And when he did, a shiver ran down his spine, almost enough to push him over the edge. You were smiling with your eyes, a dangerous look, one that told him to run away r he’d regret it. But, to him, he was already too deep in this mess to escape. This was going to be a long night for him, and he knew since the beginning. “You wanna cum, Sampo?” You began, leaning down to his level again. By doing so you pushed your dick a little deeper in and he whined at the friction. The male didn’t respond with words, he only nodded his head hesitantly, meekly. A sense of fear and pleasure bubbling inside him. How he loved to feel like nothing next to you.

Next thing he knew you clasped one hand over his eyes and wrapped the other one around his throat, squeezing him, about it choke him. “Be a good boy and endure it. If I’m satisfied, I’ll let you cum.”

His heart pounded against his chest, he felt lightheaded. All the ecstasy and anticipation was making him dizzy with lust. He didn’t even have to think twice before groaning with a low voice, “yes, please, toy with me. Kill me with your love♡”

[woman-respecter]

Hello, wonderful souls! 🤍🌍

I hope you're doing well. 🌿

Could you help me amplify my family's story and bring awareness to our struggle? 🙏🏻

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or consider donating just $5—your support could truly make a difference in saving lives amidst war and hardship.

Your kindness and voice matter more than you know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍🌿

🕊️ @mosabsdr | Every share counts. 💫

i normally just block and delete spam asks and don’t make a whole Thing about them but this one confirms something i have suspected and i want to talk about it.

for over a year the m.o. of a spam blogs has been sending an ask off anon, that way it would link directly to their blog with the fundraisers. however, over the past couple of months they have switched to anon, leaving the blog they want to direct to at the end of the ask. why is this? well i suspect it is because they are making “burner” accounts to send asks from.

my theory is confirmed here bc this is the third time i have gotten an ask with this username, and already blocked the second time (was too lazy the first time i guess.) and you can’t send an ask to a blog you are blocked by.

so obviously, one of the benefits of sending asks from a burner is block evasion, as seen here. but i don’t think it’s the main reason they are doing this. see, shortly before the anon spam began, tumblr made a change to limit the number of asks one can send from a blog. the limit is 10 per hour so most legitimate tumblr users will never notice it as they wouldn’t have a need to send an ask once every 6 minutes. hell i doubt i have ever sent 10 asks in a WEEK. however i did see the scammer community melting down about this change. so i guess their solution was to create multiple accounts and just send anons directing to the main blog so they could keep up their volume of spam. very much the expected behavior of a suffering gazan and not a scam farm 🤨

idk what the point of this whole thing is, just thought it was interesting how they are changing tactics. and maybe to let @staff know that ask limits are a great step in the right direction but they would be more effective of they could be by ip or smth.

[tophersupportsshitting]

Hello, wonderful souls! 🤍🌍

I hope you're doing well. 🌿

Could you help me amplify my family's story and bring awareness to our struggle? 🙏🏻

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or consider donating just $5—your support could truly make a difference in saving lives amidst war and hardship.

Your kindness and voice matter more than you know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍🌿

🕊️ @mosabsdr | Every share counts. 💫

The amount of asks I've been getting that are direct copy pastes of this with just *slight* changes is disturbing and disgusting.

Using the struggle of real people for your scam is horrendous.

When you get asks like these, PLEASE double check their legitimacy before promoting them. On the pinned post of the profile tagged, they say they are #309 on Gazavetters.

Well, would you look at that.

Gross, truly.

Do not give ANY money to this person. Always double check. Every single ask I've gotten like this has been a spam bot.

[justdrawlynn11]

Hey so I'm angry at YouTube now over what I learned they did yesterday, from what I learned apparently the reasons the Lunar and Earth Show got deleted. So one of the reasons YouTube deleted the channel was cuz they accused the voice actors of partaking in scams relating to Lunar Plush bootleg merchandise of one of their characters being sold on TEMU. But Davis made it clear on his Twitch Stream that him and his colleagues were not taking part in that and they were accused of this. And the second reason which Davis pointed out was because of one of their characters called "Dazzle the Deer" and over the fact that they revealed their backstory about what happened to Dazzle when she was alive and called "Evelyn" which which involves Sun getting possessed by BloodMoon and murdering her, and YouTube deemed it to violent resulting in what is happening now. Davis also said they had three requests sent to YouTube already to try and get the show back up and running but they were all denied, he made it aware to us that he only had one request left and if it gets denied then the Lunar and Earth Show will be gone for good. So he asked us his viewers to get the word out to try and make everyone aware of the situation any way possible on all platforms we have. And since Davis doesn't have an account here on Tumblr and there's a lot of people I saw here who are fans of the show i wanted to help by starting here so I wanted to make awareness of this to try and get people to make noise and get YouTube to reinstall the Lunar and Earth Show so it's not gone forever.

Davis Explaining the LAES situation:

- https://youtu.be/VWFG0LO9oU0?si=-NY8vzCip0QzKLeh

Thank you for sending me the link, I will probably start posting with a hashtag I’ve heard about. I’m aware of the situation right now regarding current news.

It is upsetting to hear the news, and any time I reference the topic of trying to bring back laes, I will try to be respectful as possible as per Davis’s wishes.