#and i decided to use my test muses for these!

[ilstar]

between the fact that i have a nice url for him + how the psd i use on this blog hates him with a passion i've been feeling very inclined to make a solo caelus blog

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae! I hope your spring has started off well. Idk if this will make sense, but based off recent circumstances in my life I was just kind of thinking about an idea.. what about a reader with a chronic illness and no one outside in her circle of friends really “gets it” and all she goes through bc they’re not home with her and don’t see her everyday (the flares of pain and weakness and fatigue, the medications, self infections, infusions, appointments, tests, not being able to work or do things for yourself or hang out when you want or live a “normal life” and all the fomo) and they don’t see how hard it is both physically and emotionally. And it really gets to her but the guys do see that and they’re supportive and encouraging when she’s having a hard time with it all. Maybe it’s an especially bad week and things build up and they can tell she’s not doing good and how they handle it. It could be regularly poly!marauders or emt!marauders with their medical pov.

Thank you for requesting angel! Hope your spring/sprummer is going well too <33

cw: reader has unspecified chronic illness that flares painfully, discompassionate/ignorant interactions regarding this, joking about murder

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 933 words

Pain is a lonely thing. This is a truth you know so well you think its flavor is in your bone marrow. Take Remus—you know he gets terrible headaches. You can know this, you can watch his face tighten with the agony of them, you could spend an entire afternoon listening to him describe them to you, but you will still never be able to approximate what they feel like for him. He’s isolated in his experience, and so are you. On your worse days, no one can truly understand you. 

But your boyfriends come the closest. 

Your head is in Remus’ lap on your bed, while Sirius lays next to you and James runs a bath in the next room. On the bedside table is a half gone glass of water, downed with the pills you’d needed upon waking this morning. The boys aren’t making a big deal of it all; it’s as much a part of their day as it is yours. 

“What’s happening in your head?” Sirius asks, prompting you to glance up from your phone. 

“Hm?”

He pouts, drawing a short line over your eyebrow with his thumb. “You’re making this awful pouting face.” 

“Am I really?” 

“No.” He cracks a smile. “I can just tell something’s off. Penny for your thoughts?” 

Wordlessly, you pass him your phone. Remus leans over, and Sirius tilts the screen so they can both read the texts you’ve been exchanging with your coworkers. Remus finishes first. He sits back with a disapproving humming noise just before Sirius sets down your phone. 

“Right,” Sirius says, cooly, “so, shall we kill them?” 

You push air out through your nose. “No.” 

“I’d be very generous. Even let them pick between drowning and assassination.” 

“If you were drowning them,” muses Remus, “would it not still be assassination?” 

“Who are we drowning?” James asks as he comes in, wiping his wet hands on his legs. 

Sirius picks up your phone again, reading off, “Stewart and Liz.” 

“Excellent.” James gives his thighs a decisive pat as he sits by your feet on the bed. “What’d they do?” 

“They’re upset she’s not going to the cinema anymore,” Remus explains. 

James’ eyebrows flick up. “Right. I mean, yes, we’re all upset when she’s not with us.” You turn your face into Remus’ thigh bashfully. Sirius snickers, teasing you with a finger under your chin. “But surely they’ll get on just like the rest of us, won’t they?” 

“They don’t seem to grasp why she can’t go,” says Remus, his voice gentling some. He’s hit the nail on the head, and yet it’s a softening of the truth. Your coworkers—the ones around your age, who’ve decided together that you’d like to be friends and have set up a group chat in pursuit of this—have gone from teasing you about your rainchecks to growing plainly frustrated with them. They get that you have bad days with your illness, but they don’t get it. They think you’re avoiding them. When you texted a few minutes ago that you couldn’t make it to the cinema later today, Liz had asked, If you’re going to sit around at home, can’t you sit around in the cinema instead? It’s not like it takes that much more. and Stewart had said, Guess this means you’ll be wanting me to take your shift tomorrow, right? 

“I’m in favor of killing them, by the way,” Remus says offhandedly. 

That surprises a real laugh out of you. It’s short, and the way your shoulders hitch hurts, but it nevertheless makes you feel a tiny bit better. 

Sirius presses a careful kiss beside your eye. “S’exactly what I’m saying,” he mumbles happily. 

“I do wish I could go,” you sigh. 

“Angel,” says James, “you don’t have to justify it to us. We know.”

“You can’t control the narrative other people have in their heads.” Remus’ hand lands on the curve of your neck, warm and grounding. “You can try to explain it to them after you’re feeling better, if you want to, but if they decide not to believe you then that’s their problem.” 

Sirius makes a huff of agreement. “Bunch of fucking twats.” 

“Those are my friends,” you argue half-heartedly. 

“Not for long, they’re not.” 

“Hey.” A pillow sails through the air, missing you by a few inches but hitting Sirius right on the side of his head. James’ voice rings with triumph. “She gets to make the kill orders, shit-stirrer.” 

“I’ll stir your shit—” 

“Or,” Remus suggest peaceably, “the bathwater probably won’t stay warm forever.” 

“Oh, yeah.” James looks to you. “Do you still feel up to that, lovely?” 

You weigh things for a moment, but ultimately you nod. 

“That’s our girl.” Sirius presses a kiss between your brows as James stands. “Don’t give those twats another thought, sweetness. You’ll do better without the stress.” 

“Alright, let’s go.” James claps his hands. You take a breath, setting your hands on the mattress in preparation of lifting yourself up, but he stops you with a touch to your shoulder. “Not like that,” he says, reaching over Sirius to slip his arms beneath you. Without any more effort on your part you’re in the air, grounded by your boyfriend’s warm, firm chest. 

You try not to sound too relieved as you sigh, resting your head in the curve of his neck. 

Remus says, sounding amused, “Sweet how you thought he was going to let you walk to the bath by yourself.” “Sweet?” Sirius scoffs. “Insulting, more like. Babe, we’ve just finished discussing how everyone underestimates your bad days. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

[thequeenofneverland1]

Being the Granddaughter of Oh Il-nam and the wife of the Front Man Would Include

Anonymous Request: hi can you do a headcannon of Being the Granddaughter of Oh Il-nam and the Wife of the Front Man Would Include please and thank you!!

You were deeply involved in the creation of the Squid Game, working alongside your grandpa.

Some of the iconic games, especially the more psychologically challenging ones, were your ideas. “What do you think about this, Grandpa? Imagine the fear when they realize the glass could break beneath them.” Your grandpa chuckled, patting your shoulder. “You’re as sharp as I hoped you’d be. This one will keep them on their toes.”

You first noticed the man when he participated in the games.

Although you only saw him through the screens, his determination and strategic mind stood out to you. “Player 132 is different,” you mused, watching him survive yet another round. “He’s not just playing to win. he’s observing, planning.” Your grandpa nodded beside you. “Those are the qualities of a survivor. Let’s see if he has what it takes.”

When he emerged as the winner, you were impressed and curious. Your grandpa invited him for a private meeting. “You didn’t just win the game; you conquered it,” your grandpa said, offering him a drink.” He glanced at the two of you cautiously. “I survived because I had no other choice. What do you want from me now?” Your grandpa smiled. “To give you a choice. Join us, and I’ll show you a world you could never imagine.”

Your grandpa made him his right-hand man for the following game, a decision that surprised you. Why him?” you asked your grandpa. “He’s new to all of this.” That’s exactly why,” your grandpa replied. “He sees things we don’t. Watch and learn, my dear.”

During the next game, you and he spent more time together as you helped him adjust to his new role. You’re surprisingly calm for someone thrown into all this,” you said one evening, handing him a report. He smirked. “And you’re surprisingly warm for someone who helps create these games.”

After working together for months, the bond between you grew stronger, and he finally decided to confess his feelings. “Can I ask you something?” he said one evening as you walked together near the game facility.” You glanced at him. “What’s on your mind?”He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I know this world we’re in isn’t exactly normal, but… I like you. A lot. Would you be my girlfriend?”You smiled, feeling warmth in a life otherwise filled with coldness. “I thought you’d never ask. Yes, I will.”

Your grandpa’s passing was sudden, leaving both of you to navigate the aftermath. He wanted you to lead this,” you told him, holding back tears. “He believed in you.”He looked at you, his expression conflicted. “I don’t know if I can live up to that.”

When He Became the Front Man “Are you ready to take the responsibility?” You asked he donned the mask for the first time. “Of course I am and having you by my side. We will be unstoppable.” 

Despite the darkness surrounding your lives, he proposed to you in one of the rare quiet moments He reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring. “I don’t have much to offer except this life we’ve built. Will you marry me?” Tears filled your eyes as you nodded. “Yes. I’ve already chosen this life with you. might as well make it official.”

Married life in your world was unlike anything normal couples experienced. You worked side by side, overseeing the games while trying to keep some semblance of normalcy.

As your marriage went on working together to create new games, each more elaborate and psychological than the last. “What about a game that tests loyalty?” you suggested one evening. “Make them choose between saving themselves or someone else.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Cruel, but effective. That’s why I need you. always one step ahead.”

The next game began, and together you implemented new challenges, ensuring they would be more psychological and intense than ever. “This one will push them to their limits,” you said, reviewing the game plan. He nodded, looking at your mask and his. “They’ll either survive or break. That’s the point.”

[bradleysass]

Much - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 663

Regulus liked to think he was a composed person. He had survived years of pureblood politics, defected from the Dark Lord without so much as a scratch, and somehow endured James Potter’s relentless affection without combusting on the spot.

He was practically a saint.

So why, in Merlin’s name, did everyone in this godforsaken house insist on testing his patience?

It started innocently enough. He was curled up in an armchair by the fireplace, a book in hand, enjoying the rare peace that came with a Sunday morning. The house was unusually quiet—until James Potter, menace of his life, decided that was unacceptable.

"Reg," James called from the couch, sprawled out in a way that took up three seats instead of one. "Come here, love."

Regulus didn’t even look up. "No."

James turned to Sirius, who was draped dramatically over Remus. "See that? I call him ‘love,’ and he tells me no. It’s tragic, really."

Sirius, ever the performer, made a mock-sympathetic noise. "He's always been like that. Once, when we were kids, I told him I’d die for him, and you know what he said?"

Lily, who was braiding Pandora’s hair on the floor, didn’t even hesitate. "‘I don’t need you to die, I need you to shut up’?"

Sirius gasped and clutched his chest. "Exactly! I see you understand the depth of my suffering."

"Unbelievable," James sighed. "And yet, I’m still obsessed with him."

Regulus exhaled slowly, counting to ten in his head. He had one peaceful morning. One. But of course, James and Sirius, the embodiment of chaos, couldn’t allow that.

"He’s trying so hard to pretend we’re not here," Remus observed, sipping his tea with a small, amused smile.

"Should we see how long it takes to break him?" Pandora suggested, all too excited.

"I swear to Merlin—" Regulus started, but he was immediately drowned out by the chorus of agreements from the room.

"You know, it doesn’t take much to get under Reg’s skin," Lily mused.

"Not at all," Sirius agreed. "You should’ve seen him at breakfast. James stole his toast, and I thought he was going to hex him into oblivion."

"He deserved it," Regulus grumbled, finally looking up from his book. "Who does that?"

"Your husband," Pandora said, voice full of amusement.

James beamed. "Husband! Say it again!"

"I'm leaving," Regulus declared, standing up, only to be yanked back down onto the couch, straight into James' lap.

James wrapped his arms around him immediately, chin hooked over Regulus' shoulder, looking entirely too smug. "Where do you think you’re going, love?"

Regulus sighed, resigned to his fate. "Anywhere but here."

"But we’re your family," Sirius said with a wicked grin. "You love us, right, Reggie?"

Regulus glared at him. "You know I hate that name."

Sirius ignored him completely. "And you love us."

Regulus narrowed his eyes. "I tolerate you at best."

"Oh, come off it, Reg," Lily teased. "We all know you’re a big softie deep down."

"I am not."

"Are too," James hummed, pressing a kiss to his temple. "You let me keep you in my lap without hexing me. That’s love, baby."

Regulus fought the way his face warmed. "That’s exhaustion."

"Sure," Remus said, voice full of laughter. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Fine," Regulus muttered. "Unfortunately, I do have… some level of affection for you lot."

The whole room erupted in cheers.

James kissed him again, grinning against his skin. "See? Told you I’d break him."

Regulus closed his eyes, willing himself to have patience. If he murdered James now, he'd have to deal with Sirius' dramatics, Lily’s disappointed sigh, and Pandora’s very specific ‘I told you so.’

"Someone kill me," he muttered.

Sirius smirked. "Aw, Reg, don’t tempt Barty like that."

Regulus groaned as the laughter filled the room, James' arms still wrapped tightly around him, and resigned himself to his fate.

Somewhere, deep down—very deep down—he supposed he did love them.

Even if they were all insufferable.

[joyswonderland1108]

“How on earth is JK hanging up on Tae somehow Jimin's fault?”

JK hangs up on Tae → Tae looks mildly annoyed → Jimin breathes in the same time zone → suddenly it's his masterplan all along 😭 “He manipulated Jungkook with his smirk” girl be serious.

I— You know what? Nevermind. Never. Mind. I've seen the circus and I don’t need front row seats today. These people will see Jungkook unplug the sun and blame the lack of sunlight on Jimin’s aura or something. “He’s too radiant and Jungkook couldn’t take it 🥺” — girl what.

BUT ANYWAY. How are we doing today, fam? How are we feeling? Because Echo just dropped.

And if you’re not listening to it like your life depends on it… what are you doing??? Rent is due, and so is your streaming effort.

Here are two playlists I’m using to stream — because we support our kings with views AND taste. Hopefully they help you too.

Now let’s talk about Jin’s live. Or as I like to call it: The Groupchat Leak None of Us Knew We Needed. Because excuse me, what was THAT? 193 comments from the members???

I swear they either:

Accidentally dropped the groupchat into the public zone,

Are now testing a new social experiment called “Parasocial Group Messaging,”

Or they simply forgot we weren’t supposed to be there.

Honestly? Not complaining. Inject every chaotic interaction directly into my bloodstream. Jin saying “get out of my comments” while simultaneously being soft with them?? Peak hyung behavior. I just know he texted the actual groupchat later like, “Next time use KakaoTalk LIKE NORMAL HUMAN BEINGS.”

Now onto the part of the regularly scheduled program where we collectively slap some sense into the jobless haters: "Jikook are never together" “Where is the proof?” “Are you delusional?”

OH I DON’T KNOW. Maybe they listened to a whole song together? Not just any song. "Don't Say You Love Me". Like… really think about the emotional damage in that title and then imagine Jikook choosing that as their bonding soundtrack. I’m not okay, thanks for asking (I'm being delulu leave me alone!!)

And what’s Jungkook doing? Oh just… talking on the phone. And laughing. Right next to Jimin. As if they share one braincell and can’t operate it when they’re apart. So sorry for having eyes and ears and a functioning memory.

Let’s talk about the inside jokes. The bane of every Jikooker's existence. “It looks good on you.” “No, no, it looks good on you.”

✨STAAAAHP✨ I’m tired of being left out like a side character in a K-drama who gets five lines and a heartbreak arc. WHAT LOOKS GOOD ON WHO? IS THIS ABOUT CLOTHES OR SOMETHING ELSE? Give us the context, I’m begging. These two act like we were THERE for the original joke. Like we weren’t just trying to eat our snacks and mind our business before they decided to gaslight us with cryptic matching dialogue.

And THEN. Jungkook just decides that Hopeminkook can carry on the convo post-live like this was a planned coffee chat. Bro straight up ghosted but gave them permission to “go on.” 😂

Meanwhile, I can feel Jin’s soul leaving his body. You just know he hit the groupchat with: “Get. Out. Of. My. Comments.” And Hobi responded with 10 emojis and Jimin sent a picture of his elbow or something equally cursed.

But now, for the highlight of today’s unhinged lesson in Jikookology: DULPO and NETPO.

For the confused among us (it’s okay, you’re loved), let me educate you real quick:

In Korean, numbers go like this:

1 = 하나 (hana)

2 = 둘 (dul)

3 = 셋 (set)

4 = 넷 (net)

Let me explain based on what i know and what i understood :

In the South Korean military artillery units, soldiers are divided into tank/artillery crews, each given a number. And because Korean is a language of poetic chaos and nicknames, this turns into:

Jungkook, an artilleryman (포수 / posu), was assigned to tank crew number 2 → hence the name DULPO (둘포): "둘 (dul)" = two + "포 (po)" = artillery/gunner

Jimin? He was assigned to tank crew number 4, and naturally, his squad is NETPO (넷포): "넷 (net)" = four + "포 (po)" = artillery/gunner

Not just that — Jimin casually decided to let us know that He is the "ACE" of Netpo, and I’m sorry but ??? We now have ranks within nicknames?? You’re telling me this man is out there acing the military?? Can you imagine Jimin just glowing under camouflage paint and being the top gunner in his squad like it's the finale of a K-drama?

Now..

🕵️‍♂️ BTS Mafia Game Chaos (aka Jikook & Hobi being extra on the timeline)

It all starts with Jimin, just casually asking:

지민: 마피아 하실? “Are you going to play the mafia game?”

Enter Jungkook, 1 minute later, saying:

JK: 눈치게임 1 “Timing game 1”

(He’s referring to a Korean timing game called 눈치게임 (Noonchi Game) where everyone tries to say a number in sequence without overlapping someone else's number — like 1, 2, 3, etc. — but if two people say the same number, they lose.)

Then Hobi shows up and drops:

hobi: 즈2 = "2" in a playful/slangy way

Then Jimin says:

지민: 이 = "2" (again)

And finally Jungkook, being over it already, says:

JK: 아 중복 너무 많다 “Ah, there are too many overlaps” 😩

So basically, this was:

Jimin starting chaos with a mafia game suggestion

Jungkook turning it into a Noonchi Game

Everyone yelling "2" like chaotic toddlers

Jungkook realizing they’ve all failed the game instantly because of too many overlaps

TL;DR:

JK hangs up on Tae and that’s somehow Jimin’s fault (???)

Jin’s live was a groupchat simulation gone rogue

Jikook listened to an emotionally devastating song together and smiled through it like psychopaths

We got soft bickering, synchronized laughter, mysterious inside jokes, and now apparently, gaming lore to study

Jimin = Netpo ACE. JK = Dulpo Support Main (probably)

I need a nap

Anyway, stream Echo!!! And don't forget our boys only have about 3 weeks and 4 days left to be with us again!!!

[swaps55]

Misread

“I’m not sure what to do with you, Garrus.”

Garrus looks up with a start from his pile of gear to find Shepard leaning casually against a row of lockers in the Normandy’s cargo bay. He’d been so engrossed in inventorying his arsenal for Williams he hadn’t even heard Shepard come out of engineering.  

“Sir?”

Shepard eyes him from crest to talons, as though he’s a requisitions manifest that doesn’t match inventory. Despite being reasonably sized for a human – in Garrus’ experience, anyway, which isn’t exactly extensive – Shepard barely comes up to his chin. And yet somehow Garrus feels a lot like a pyjack standing next to a varren that hasn’t decided just how hungry it is.

“Well, you’re part of my crew,” Shepard muses. “But you’re not Alliance. You don’t exactly fit in my watch rotation, or know anything about Alliance protocol. Technically, I don’t have any recognized authority over you at all. If you stole this ship from me and waltzed off to hand it to the Hierarchy, you’d probably get a medal.”

“Also probably start a war.”

Alenko snorts from his spot over by the weapons’ bench, where the pistol he’d been working on now lies completely disassembled.  

Shepard waves a dismissive hand. “That’s someone else’s problem.” But then he pauses, face scrunching up in ways that faces shouldn’t be able to scrunch. “You know, it probably would be my problem, actually.”

Human faces are distressingly expressive, and Garrus hasn’t been around enough of them to really grasp what it all means. “Uh, while I appreciate the…confidence in my ability to mutiny—”

This isn’t coming out right.

“—I don’t actually have any plans to steal your ship.”

“Good. Because while I may not have authority to give you orders, I’m pretty sure the Council did just give me the authority to put you out my airlock if you don’t follow them.”  

Garrus’ mandibles twitch in alarm. It’s a joke…right? Humans like to joke. Surely that’s a universal trait. “I’m very good at calibrating weapons.”

Shepard’s eyebrow raises.

Garrus’ own brow plates shift rather desperately. “You asked what to do with me.”

“Right.” His gaze shifts over to Alenko, who contentedly continues cleaning his pistol. “Any good with mass accelerator cannons?”

“Uh, sure?”

Shepard nods towards the infantry vehicle across the cargo bay. “Then familiarize yourself with the Mako over there. Pretty sure we’re gonna get a lot of use out of it.”

Alenko groans and rolls his eyes – that one Garrus gets – while muttering something about war crimes under his breath.

“Yes, sir,” Garrus says quickly.  

There’s that laser-sharp gaze again. It’s like looking a rail gun in the face. But then Shepard’s face breaks into a grin. “Glad to have you aboard, Garrus.”

“Thank you. Sir.” Should he salute? Was that…appropriate? He’s still thinking about it when Shepard calls out to another human stepping off the elevator by engineering, and jogs away.

Garrus blinks. At the weapons’ bench, Alenko shakes his head and chuckles, like he’d seen whatever just happened a thousand times.

“Can I ask…what that was about? That conversation felt like…”

“A test?”

Garrus’ mandibles flare. “Yes.”

Alenko’s smile has softer edges than Shepard’s. “He’s feeling you out.”

“…Feeling me…out?”

“It’s, ah, a figure of speech. He’s pretty good at reading people, but he likes to test out his impressions with a little verbal sparring.”

“I can’t tell if I passed.”

Alenko’s chuckle becomes a laugh. “That usually means you did. He doesn’t often misread people, but when he does, you’ll know.”

“Why? What happens?”

Alenko shrugs, with an affable smile. “Someone usually get shot.”

~

“Do we have a deal?”

A cold, perilous silence falls over the warehouse, where every one of Helena Blake’s mercs stand with the kind of staged relaxation that just so happens to put their hands right by their sidearms.

You trust her? Alenko had asked during their stomach-turning Mako drop, in which Garrus is certain that Shepard waited until death was imminent before engaging the vertical thrusters to avoid smashing against the freezing cold rocks of Amaranthine. Alenko had been right about the war crimes.

No, but I think she’s a lesser evil I can live with, Shepard had replied.

He’d been so adamant this was a friendly exchange that he’d walked brazenly into the center of her band of mercs, who hadn’t hesitated to close in around them. Garrus clocks twelve of them to Shepard’s squad of four, including a sentry on the upper level.  Alenko hangs close to Shepard’s left flank while Williams takes the right, leaving Garrus to bring up the rear.

Relax. We’re all friends, here.

Except as soon as Blake had started talking, Alenko’s stance had gotten a little more square, even though nothing about Shepard’s posture changed. When the silence hits, Alenko’s hand drifts marginally closer to his pistol.

“You know what?” Shepard asks thoughtfully. “On second thought, you can go fuck yourself.”

Before the ‘fuck’ is even out of his mouth, Alenko’ is in his hand and he’s knocking Shepard off his feet just in time to avoid the bullet coming from the sniper’s nest. Somehow, in the blur of running, shooting and cursing that ensues, Garrus and Alenko wind up crouched behind a shipping container while Williams lays down another round of cover fire and Shepard yanks the sniper out of the rafters with a skein of dark energy.

“So,” Garrus says, catching his breath. “I take it this was a misread?”

“Oh yeah.”

Alenko checks his heat sink before his corona engulfs him in a bloom of dark energy. He actually chuckles before he gets to his feet and re-enters the fray, like this is just another routine patrol through the Presidium.

“Welcome to the squad, Garrus.”

[hancyan]

World Downloads(Added information about rabbithole rug).

Hi everyone!　First of all, I must apologize. Regarding my previous post about "Victorian Sunset Valley", I deleted it because there was a problem with the save file. There is no problem with the empty world.

I'm really sorry to all the simmers who downloaded, liked, reblogged and commented.

It seems that the problem can be solved by separating the save files, so I decided to share it again. There are no changes to the empty world, so if you have it, please try again.

❖Empty World There are just a Public Lots, a Farm District, and Goth Manor.The two hilltop mansions don't exist yet. This is Sunset Valley long before Mortimer Goth was born.If there is a historic town you have in mind, you are free to build it here.

※An empty world requires the store item "Artemis Temple Frieze (Muse Luxury)".

❖Save files You can enjoy the Victorian era right away, but there are no film careers, universities, or diving spots. There are a few empty plots, so feel free to add them.

This time, I did not build any houses. I only built some public lots, but I changed the color of the buildings I shared before and placed them. The Equestrian Center of EA is very conspicuous, so I built a small racetrack. There is a fire station of EA next to it, but it does not blend in with the scenery very well, so I am thinking of rebuilding it someday.

The address of @ri-el's Sherlock Holmes residence is 221B Baker Street. I wanted to place this residence on the main street, so I set the lot size specifically. Then I placed the lot built by @nornities to match the cafe next door and the stairs leading to the harbor across the road. The harbor is a bit of a tourist area, with trade ships, sightseeing ships, and passenger ships arriving and departing. Some Sims may come to see the steamships, so I prioritized placing it here. There are also lots of great builds by other creators included. Thank you.

Every house has some sort of vehicle (either a horse-drawn carriage or a historic bicycle), and the sight of so many carriages going around town is truly impressive!

It looks heavy, but if you can play the EA Store worlds then I don't think it will be an issue.

Basically, it is a town for enjoying historical play such as the Victorian or Edwardian, but I think it can also be enjoyed in normal play.

The decoration is minimal, so feel free to edit it however you like and have fun.

Residential 38　Community 40　Empty ８

Please download the carriage from below.

@barnacleboots

Two-Horse Carriage conversion

The new carriage is here too.(I'll advertise it)

@danjaley

Schoolbus Default and Driveable Wagon

Car Default Replacements

❖World (It remains "Sunset Valley Empty" because it has not been renamed.)

❖Save files

❖CC (Please be sure to download the "patterns" in the folder via the launcher.)

❖Store Content (Many of the contents use the Blams version. If the store content you have is not reflected, please use this.)

※Sorry. To ensure a reliable download, they are separated.

Required

Every hilltop amusement park needs a boardwalk rollercoaster.

All EPs except ITF

Requires Sunlit Tides, Monte Vista, Midnight Hollow, Aurora Skies,Dragon Valley, and Roaring Heights.

You need a rabbithole rug.(Bookstore, Theater, Spa, Diner，Business ,Chemistry)If you don't have the same one, replace it with what you have.

Thanks

Thank you for your kind words and advice, and for downloading and playing the town.@samkat10423

Long test play@ayaka-nonno

@nornities was kind enough to answer my beginner's questions.

And, even though you're busy, @yorithesims checked the final folder.

@blamseastore for converting and providing us with store content

CC Credit notation

Mutske, Around the Sims3, LunaSimsLulamai, mammut, armiel, Lisen801, LilyOfTheValley, MARTA'S SIMSBOOK, omedapixel, Cyclonesue, Awesims, Mspoodle, douglasveiga Thank you for the wonderful CC.

And especially a huge thanks to Sookielee at Custom Sims 3 for making the Sunset Valley CAW files available.

Anyway, some simmers, including @enjoji101, were concerned and encouraged me. And they asked me to share this town. I originally created this world for myself, but if there is even one simmer who is interested in this town and wants to play, I would be very honored and grateful. And I would like to make that wish come true. Thank you very much. I love you all.

※If you have any questions, please send me a message. (I would appreciate it if you could speak simple English. )

Have a smashing time! 

@pis3update @sssvitlanz @kpccfinds

[lunaetis]

interaction call ! now that i've done a bit of a clean up, i want to launch this out to all my followers, old & new, because i want to try my best to reach out to more ppl ! before interacting with this post, however, please give this a read on what it'd entail.

the purpose of this post is for my mutuals to tell me that you're interested in forming interaction(s) & develop dynamics with our muses. i would either send something from your ( or my ) meme tags, send you some personalized asks, or write you a short starter to get something going for us. ( asks are likely to be turned into threads. ) please comment on which muse(s) you'd like from my end. for multis, please also let me know who it'd be for. if you can't choose just one, please at least give me a few names or fandoms you're familiar with. if i really cannot decide i'll message you to plot something ! you can let me know if you have preferences on asks / memes, or starters in the comment as well !

links : main muses | request only muses | test muses

a like would serve as a PLOTTING CALL. if you like this post without any comments, i will drop into your DM to talk and plot something out for us. new interactions / dynamics will be prioritized.

[russellsppttemplates]

We can all agree that our little gremlin boy Lan has a big head, don't we? Like we love him, he's cute(hot af too), but boy was blessed with a big head 😅 so I just had the funniest scene of his wife complaining to him about his big head while drowned in hormones when she's pregnant with Tilly. Like really complaining, but laughing at the same time, and maybe his sisters or max and P are cackling while he tries not to laugh too much not to hurt her feelings,but they all end up having a laughing fit together 😆

Note: when I was a baby, my head was so big that I had to get a series of tests and scans to rule out any problems! In the doctor's words, fortunately, the only problem I would have was finding a hat that fits! So I relate to this very much - also, absolutely agree with all you've said!

Cw: reader is pregnant

The annual Norris family summer vacation was well underway by the time you decided which days you wanted to spend on the boat, Oliver and Savannah staying inside with the girls along with Adam and Cisca who decided they would make lunch for everyone.

"Do you know what I have just realised?", you spoke to Flo as you both watched Lando and Cisca's boyfriend jump into the water, "your brother has a massive head - like, it's really big, specially when you compare to Max's", you pointed to your husband's best friend.

That morning, you cried about the fact that your bikini dug on your hips only for Lando to tell you that you hadn't tired the sides properly and that you had more than enough room to accommodate your growing body, so right now this was a way better way to deal with the rush of hormones you were having.

"I think we all do, to be fair - Cisca has the smalled one I guess", Flo squinted as she looked at her sister who walked closer to you.

"Why are you looking at me like that?", Cisca wondered.

"I've just realised how big your brother's head is and how I'm probably going to be split apart when this little girl - little body but surely a big head - joins us", you rubbed your bump as tears formed in your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N, my friends have had babies with big heads and they're fine", Pietra offered, "they were just fine", she said before waving at Max so him and Lando could come to the rescue.

"I don't know why I'm crying, which makes this even worse - Goodness", you wiped your eyes and chuckled, "I can feel her head, it's about here from what I remember from the scans - and it's big, like, really big! How is that going to work?", you blurted.

"What's the matter? Is everything alright? Y/N, are you good? Is it Tilly?", Lando asked worriedly as he saw you break into a fit of giggles and seeing the girls fight their laughter a bit before joining.

"The matter is that you have a big head and Tilly's will also be big", you explained, "I'm not the tiniest person ever, so there's definitely room but can you imagine? I have to ask your mother how big your head was when you were born because I feel like I need to do prep work for it", you mused, "it's all natural until you decide to have a kid with the guy who has a big head".

"Oh, Y/N has gone dark", Max muttered, earning himself a swat on his forehead from Pietra, "what? Did I lie?", he hissed, containing his laughter.

"I'm not sure what you'd like me to do here, my love", Lando admitted, sitting next to you and attempting to squeeze your thigh lovingly, knowing the affectionate gesture could go both ways.

"Our baby is making me feel like I have the emotional and cognitive skills of a toddler", you mumbled as you cuddled your husband, supporting your bump with a pillow Flo got for you as you both layed down.

"It's okay, Y/N, I don't mind having to reason with you - we'll consider this practice for when we have our little one, okay beautiful?", Lando kissed your forehead.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US #DRABBLE - YOUR FIRST TIME

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 2.2k

MAIN STORY HERE.

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 18 years old

“I’m nervous,” Jungkook says, sitting next to you in the hotel room.

You couldn't do it at your place because your father was too noisy and loved to tease Jungkook about how he wouldn't touch you until his 50s. He allows Jungkook to stay overnight occasionally, but he keeps the bedroom door open to ensure he doesn't touch you.

You couldn’t do it neither at his, his parents always opened the door without knocking. You didn't want them to catch you naked with Jungkook on top of you. So, you paid for a cheap hotel room.

“I’m nervous too,” you reply, looking at the wall in front of both of you.

“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” Jungkook suggests, his fists still on his knees. “We can just… watch TV and order something to eat.”

“I shaved myself, Jungkook. And we paid to be here. So, believe me, we’re going to pop that damn cherry today.” You almost scold him, earning a soft chuckle from your boyfriend.

“So romantic,” he comments. You push his shoulder, smiling. You take a deep breath and turn to him, wetting your lips before looking at his.

“We should… kiss. To test the water, you know?” You tilt your head as he glances at you, amused.

“We have already kissed a thousand times,” he replies, as if it was obvious. “How will it help to test the water?”

“Oh my god, Kook. You have a way to get a girl dry, I swear.” You groan, falling back in bed, your eyes still on the ceiling.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m nervous.” He sighs, lying next to you, propped on his elbow as he admires you. “You’re beautiful.”

“I know why you’re a virgin now.” You joke, making him gasp dramatically.

“Says the girl who has never kissed anyone before me.”

“Jimin doesn’t count as your first kiss.” You bite back playfully as you roll on your side to face him.

“At least he’s a better kisser than you,” he replies in the same tone as you shake your head, amused.

“Maybe you should do your first time with him, then,” you muse, leaning closer as his eyes drift from your eyes to your lips.

“Maybe…” He whispers brushing his nose to yours, “But I’m dating you.”

“You have my blessing with him.” you add, feeling his breath on your lips as your mouth ghost his.

“How thoughtful of you.” He murmurs, closing the distance between your faces to kiss you. “But you’re prettier than that smelly thing.” He jokes as he cups your face with his hand, pressing his mouth to yours. You respond eagerly, rolling on top of him.

The kiss grows hotter and sloppier. He then trails his nose along your jaw, making you gasp and gulp. As your fingers disappear in his hair, you let out a slight moan when he nips the sensitive skin of your throat. You squirm a little as his cold fingers slide under your shirt.

“Shit, sorry,” He whispers against your collarbone as you shake your head.

“I don’t care, don’t stop,” You mumble, seeking another hungry kiss from his lips. He moans against your mouth, flips your position so he’s on top, and cups your breast with his hand, his thumb rubbing your nipple. “Fuck,” You curse, helping him to get rid of his shirt while he begins to grind his hips against you.

“Can I… take your shirt off too?” He asks shyly as you chuckle and nod, sitting up to get rid of your own shirt and bra under his burning gaze.

“What?” You frown, quickly covering your breasts with your hands as he sits back on his knees.

“No, no, don’t hide them,” He reassures you, his fingers wrapping around your wrists before he pulls your palm to his lips and kisses the inside of your hand. “You’re beautiful,” He whispers, closing the distance between your lips.

“One is bigger than the other,” You comment against his lips as he rolls his eyes, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“I don’t care, Y/N,” He smiles, kissing the tip of your nose. “Do you think my balls are the same exact size?” Jungkook jokes, which he knows will help you relax.

“I guess I’ll find out today,” You reply, earning a chuckle from him as he settles back onto his knees. His fingers trace a path from your collarbone to the swell of your breast, making you shiver. Then, he leans down to brush his lips against your hard nipple.

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” He murmurs, testing the water with a gentle, kitten-like lick on your pebbled peak. When Jungkook doesn't hear a complaint from you, he wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks, causing an uncontrolled moan to escape your lips as he freezes.

“Fuck, no, don’t stop,” you quickly say before he continues his ministration, giving attention to the other bud too.

“How does it feel?” He asks, the blood rising to your cheeks as you stammer out a coherent sentence.

“Go-good.” Jungkook smirks as his nose trails on your stomach, his fingers already unzipping your jeans. Your eyes widen when you feel his breath on your panties once your pants hit the floor.

“What are you doing?” You frown, closing your legs in embarrassment, and Jungkook suddenly feels stupid.

“I-Hm… I thought you…” He starts, swallowing as he sits back, “I wanted to make you feel good?”

 “Do you know how to do it?” You ask sitting up.

“No?” He retorts, as it was obvious. He never had sex before. “But I watched a lot of porn so…I… You- Y/N, I want to eat you out. But if you’re uncomfortable, I won’t.” As you nod, biting your lower lip, he becomes more serious and says, “It’s okay,” cupping your face as he shakes his head. “We’ll walk at your pace, okay?”

“Okay,” You hum, pressing your forehead to his. He smiles, kisses your forehead, and then takes off his pants, aware that you've noticed you're the only one half-naked.

“Do you want to go slower?” He suggests, his hand gently rubbing your arm in a gentle, affectionate gesture. “I can let you choose what to do.”

“I want to touch you,” You whisper, placing both hands on his knees. Jungkook smiles, finding you adorable as he pulls you closer, your face buried in his neck. As you slowly relax in his arms, you pull back slightly, your breath grazing his skin as you trail your nose along his jaw. Your hand caresses his torso and moves down to his stomach, making his breath tremble. “Will you feel more comfortable if… we got naked at the same time?” You ask, lifting your eyes to his.

He swallows hardly and nods. You moistened your lips, then pulled your underwear down with your thumbs on either side of your waistband. The situation was awkward and weird, but you blamed it on the fact that it was your first time. He follows every one of your movements before exhaling and doing the same.

Your eyes widen slightly as his cock bounces back onto his stomach, straightening up proudly. How will that thing fit inside you? He said it was an average size, and you have no experience to compare but you know that even two fingers of yours don’t fit inside you.

“Are you… wet?” He asks, looking down at you with curiosity. It was his first time too. How can boys know when a girl is excited too?

“I am,” You nod, take a deep breath, and then, with some shyness, guide his fingers between your legs by grabbing his left wrist. The last thing you want is your boyfriend thinking that he doesn’t turn you on. When his fingers meet your wet core, his cock twitches against his stomach, and he unconsciously curls them to explore.

“I… fuck.” He gulps as you feel more relaxed and help him to get more comfortable by showing him what you like, both of you still sitting on your knees facing each other.

“Can I?” you ask, pointing to his length with your chin as your hand leaves his on your core. Jungkook nods, two of his fingers trailing down your folds as you wrap your fingers around his cock. It was… weird. It is warm. Softer than you thought. You slowly start to stroke him, unsure of the right pressure to apply.

“Let me help,” He whispers, wrapping his fingers around yours as applying a good pressure and rhythm. “Fuck, yes, like that.” He moans, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit.

“Oh fuck,” You whimper, clenching around nothing as his eyes, full of desire, find yours. You lean in to kiss him. He responds hungrily, his tongue slipping into your mouth. A soft moan escapes your lips as he pushes a finger inside of you. You never enjoyed fingering yourself, but there was something arousing about Jungkook doing it.

“You’re so warm,” He mumbles against your lips, and you chuckle, knowing that it's just the words of a horny teenager.

“It would be weird if I was cold inside,” You reply sarcastically.

“Alright, smartass,” He rolls his eyes, amused, and adds another finger, making you clench around it. “Fuck, Y/N, warn me when you do something like that. I almost cum.”

“You didn’t warn me that you’ll add another finger,” You retort as he shakes his head, pumping his fingers inside of you while pushing away your hand from his cock, pinning it next to your body when he lays you on the bed.

“You turn me on so bad,” He whispers, peppering your neck with kisses. “I want to fuck you.”

It was bold of him, but your body react positively at his dirty talk because you clench again and arch your back for his fingers to get deeper. You know that feeling in your stomach. You were close to orgasm. You exhale, push his fingers away, and instantly feel empty without his touch, which causes him to frown. Reaching for the box of condoms on the night table, you take one out and give it to him. 

“Are you sure?” He asks, once the condom is rolled onto his hard length, positioning himself between your legs. “Once I’m in… you won’t be a virgin anymore.”

“Did you think that I’m naked in that bed to play the scrabbles?” You groan, making him chuckle.

“Alright, alright,” He laughs and guides the tip of his cock against your entrance as you share a look. “I’m getting in,” He informs you, and you nod, your hand resting on his free arm beside your body.

 “I’m ready.” You bite your bottom lip, and that's all the cue he needs; he slowly sinks inside you, his eyes scrutinizing every one of your features as his tip stretches you out, causing you to grimace. He stops immediately and waits for you to get used to this foreign intrusion.

It burns, you won’t lie and all you want is to push him away from you. But at the same time, all you could think about was having him fully inside you. “More.” You could only mumble as his features contorted at the sight of you in pain. However, he listened and sank a few more inches.

“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly, but you nod, and he takes a deep breath, gesturing for him to go deeper, then pushes himself further into you. He can feel your body clenching and unclenching around him until his body is pressed against yours. He leans in to caress your face, peppering it with comforting kisses to ease the pain.

“I am,” You nod with a slight smile, guiding his lips to yours. “You can move.”

Jungkook starts to roll his hips against yours, his eyes fixed on yours. You breath the same air as he smiles at you, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours. It didn’t take long before he went faster, building your own orgasm now that the pain was gone.

“Fuck,” He groans, closing his eyes as if trying to concentrate, with one hand on your hip. You start to feel the pleasure you only read about in books, and God… it’s so much better.

Jungkook buries his face in the crook of your neck, brushing his nose against your skin. The only sounds filling the room were the slap of the skin-to-skin and the soft moans and breathing coming from both of you.

“Shit, Kook,” you say, digging your nails into the muscles of his back and clinging to him. “I-“ you start, but Jungkook freezes, his body twitching and spasming before he collapses on top of you, breathing heavily. It takes you several seconds to realize he just had an orgasm. He pants softly into your neck, as if he had just run a marathon, before kissing your neck and jaw.

“That was… wow.”  he rolls next to you. You suddenly feel empty, your body having grown accustomed to his presence, the tension dissipating from your nonexistent orgasm. You stare at the ceiling. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asks as you shake your head. “Okay… I’m sorry. I know I didn’t last thirty seconds, but - Fuck,” he grins, rolling onto his side as you do the same, smiling at him, your fingers tracing his features. “I'll do better next time. I mean- if you want a next time?”

“I do.”

“Cool, cool.” He chuckles nervously before pecking your lips. “I love you. That was amazing.”

You nod, smiling, as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his chest.

“Did you come?” He questions you with his biggest doe-eyes, and you didn't have the heart to break his current mood; you know how Jungkook is - instead of enjoying this moment, he'll try to fix what went wrong. So, you lie.

“Yes.”

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3

[logoleptic-since-06]

Love Thorns All Over This Rose

✮ Pairing: Satoru x Fem!Reader

✮ Content: Fem!Reader, Non-Sorcerer AU, College Setting, Mentions of Family and Financial Issues, Mentions of Other JJK Characters, Language, Smut (Fingering, Cunillingus), Slight Angst, Fluff, Dislike to Love, Mentions of Smoking, Slowburn, Not Proofread

Based On This Concept I Made

✮ A/N: I know I said I will not be writing fics for the concepts I made, but I love this trope too much to not have written it.

★ ♫ ★ ♫ ★ ♫ ★ ♫ -> Some songs this was inspired by (I know I listen to white girl music, what about it?) ✮ Also heavily inspired by the book The Deal by Elle Kennedy.

✮ Word Count: 4.6k

MDNI

“This was your last chance, Gojo, I’m gonna have to revoke your captaincy.”

“Please, coach,” Satoru’s usual cocky tone was replaced with desperation, “One more chance, please. My econ test scores came out today, and I’m confident I did well. Just consider this for once.”

Coach Yaga pauses for a second, “Listen, kid, I will consider it for now, but it’s really not on me. College rules say athletes can’t have more than three F’s. And according to that, I should bench you till you get your grades up.”

His eyes widen. “What? No, you can’t bench me, I’m your best player!”

“You know it doesn’t matter.”

“Fuck…” he murmurs in frustration. His econ test, that he has already given, is his last straw. If he fucks this one up, he will be benched until he gets his grades up. Basketball tournament season is right around the corner, and being in his senior year of college means his professional recruitments will start this season. Being benched is far from an option he wants to go for.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

He fails.

He fucking fails the test that he was so sure he’d pass.

“And then he benched me,” he groans as he finishes telling the story to his friend group/housemates/teammates. He looks at Suguru, his oldest and closest friend, “Oh, and he made you the captain for the time being, by the way.”

Suguru simply shrugs. “Then get your grades up and re-secure your spot. I won’t even be going pro, you need this.”

"We are all rooting for you, Gojo," Haibara's over-enthusiastic voice speaks. Haibara and Nanami are in their junior year, and Haibara is probably Satoru and Suguru's biggest hype-man, despite playing in the same team.

“I’ve tried, you know I have. I don’t know what else to-”  Satoru stops as an idea strikes his head. He tilts his head towards Nanami, “Hey, Nanami.” “No,” he says simply.

“I didn’t even-”

“Whatever you ask, no.” “Tutor me, you’re like the only smart person I know.” “I’m your junior.”

“We have the same course, we study the same thing in the same class.”

“Fuck, you’re such a manchild,” Shoko’s bored voice speaks as she takes a puff from her cigarette.

“Don’t smoke in our house,” Satoru scolds her, causing her to flip him off.

“Although,” Shoko sits up from laying against the couch, “I might have someone that can help you. My roommate.”

Shoko doesn’t live with the others, but Satoru has never heard of her roommate before. “Your roommate, huh?” he repeats lazily.

Nanami snorts, “Y/N? She’s in my year and I doubt she’ll ever help him.”

Shoko nods, “You can try if you’re desperate enough.” She takes another puff of her cigarette. “Offer her tons of money.”

Satoru thinks for a second, “She can be convinced using money? That’s perfect, I have money.” 

Everyone except Haibara rolls their eyes.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Having finished your last assignment of the day, you relax back against your chair, taking in the hushed ambience of the library. It was a stressful, but productive day. You only relax for a split second before a wave of anxiety gushes over you– you’ve recently lost your job at the local barista due to it being shut down. It was the only place close to the campus you can get a job at, and there is no way you could afford a living on campus without a job.

You decide to get up and head to your dorm room instead of musing upon your issues. As you begin to pack your things into your tote bag, you see a tall, white-haired figure sit across from you at the table with a bright smile on his face that shows off his dimples. 

Satoru Gojo?

The star athlete is Shoko’s childhood best friend. Ever since she became your roommate in your freshman year as a sophomore, you’ve only heard tales of him and Suguru Geto. You’ve seen them around the campus, of course, but you’ve always chosen peace over any interaction with them. People flock around them like a group of fans rushing over to buy tickets for a sold-out concert. Arrogance seeps out of him every time he walks through a door, making every head turn towards him.

“Hi,” he says, looking straight into you. You look behind you, trying to see if he is talking to someone else. “No, I’m talking to you. Y/N, right?”

The sound of your name in his voice sounds weird. How did he know who you were? 

He continues, “I am–”

“I know who you are.” You cut him off for a reason that is unknown to even yourself. He tilts his head in confusion, but you can tell it's not from the knowledge of you knowing his name but rather from the fact that you are wearing an annoyed expression on your face right now. You almost feel bad but it's not like you can help it, you just lost your job and it is not easy for a girl from a middle class family to survive in this environment filled with some of the richest brats in the city, Satoru Gojo included.

“I need your help.” Every word that comes out of his mouth sounds so foreign, you wouldn’t have imagined them in your wildest dreams.

“My help?” Why is he talking to you?

“I need you to tutor me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We are in the same classes together. I need someone to tutor me because I’m failing my classes and if I’m benched and won’t be able to play until I pass them. And if I don’t play this season, I won’t be recruited to go pro, so basically my entire future is in your hands.”

Your disturbed grimace is probably a little too noticeable, because the next words that come out of his mouth are, “Why are you making that face?” He says it with such innocent confusion, you almost give in.

“I don’t even know you,” you finally say, your voice sounds bored.

“But you are the best I can find.”

“Why can’t you hire a professional tutor?”

“Because then my parents will know, and they can’t know.”

“That’s not my problem.” “God, you’re insufferable,” he exasperates, “I’ll pay. A lot.”

That gets your attention. You raise an eyebrow. “How much?”

He sits up and excitedly takes a piece of paper and pen, writes down an amount, and slides the paper towards you.

One look at the paper and your eyes go wide. He wrote an hourly rate and as you do the quick math in your head, you realize this would pay twice the amount you got as a barista.

You clear your throat before speaking. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he says firmly.

“And you will cooperate?”

“Of course, I need this, Y/N.” Will you ever get used to your name on his tongue?

“When and where?”

“Five days a week, so all working days. My house? It’s off campus. Give me your number, I’ll send you the location.” “I know where you live, I’ve dropped Shoko off to yours before. And yeah it works.”

“Great! Thanks so much, Y/N; you’re a lifesaver.” In the blink of an eye, he gets up and leaves you stranded at the library table.

Lifesaver… The word echoes through your head. You’ve been called that so many times, it doesn’t even mean anything anymore. You’ve been a lifesaver to your classmates for sharing your homework with them, or giving them answers during a test; you’ve been a lifesaver to your parents when you volunteered to look after your younger siblings, or when took care of dinner; you’ve been a lifesaver to your siblings for helping them study, or for solving any problem they’ve had. 

Even now, as you study in an elite university where the annual tuition is more than what your family earns in a year, you push yourself to work hard and maintain a scholarship, and work two jobs while simultaneously being a full-time student– just so you don’t have rely on someone else for anything, even if they’re your parents.

At least Satoru Gojo is willing to pay you a good amount for being a so-called ‘lifesaver’. Sure, there was a time when you thought money couldn’t buy you happiness, but spending so much time amongst your classmates made you realize it’s quite the opposite. Money brings you respect and recognition, and one day, you will have both of them, you are sure of it. For now, you are at peace with the fact that you are nothing but a phantom made up of invisible smoke, haunting the hallways until someone needs her.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

The next day, you find yourself on the doorstep of your new student’s house. You shake off your unwanted anxiety and ring the doorbell. A few moments later, the door opens, revealing a tall figure with long luscious dark hair.

Suguru Geto, certified asshole number two (one is Gojo, of course). He looks down at you with a slight smirk. Seriously, what’s so funny? He motions you to come in.

“Satoru’s upstairs in his bedroom,” he drawls.

“Can you call him?”

He pauses for a second before answering, “Sure thing.” His gaze doesn’t avert from you as he calls out his name. Why is he so ominous? Why is Shoko friends with them?

Gojo comes out of his bedroom and stands by the stairway as he calls you up enthusiastically. You head upstairs and he leads you to his lavish bedroom and closes the door behind the two of you.

“So,” he says as he plops down on his bed, “Where do we start?”

“Let’s go through your assignments first.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

After an hour of tutoring, Satoru is officially done with his first tutoring session. He thinks you are a little odd with your bored yet annoyed expressions, yet he can’t stop but think you’re cute. He clearly gets the vibe that you aren’t the biggest fan of his as whenever he asked you a question about anything other than studies in the past hour, you had simply glared at him. It is also clear that you have no interest in his basketball games whatsoever.

It is also clear that you have no interest in his basketball games whatsoever. Since every question that he asks you about basketball is also either met with a glare or a “Finish this first, then we’ll talk.”

Your annoyance doesn’t matter to Satoru– if anything, he’s loving the fact that he’s getting on your nerves. It isn’t just you– annoying people has always been his specialty. Despite being the captain and the strongest player, his cheery demeanor is always met with eye rolls or groans of displeasure. 

Sure, girls around him would die to be with him– even for a moment– but if it’s not for sleeping around, he isn’t quite ever wanted. He tells himself he is okay with it, that if they don’t want him, he will turn himself into someone they need. Which is exactly what he did; and now, without him, the team will fall apart.

Once the tutoring session is over, he hits you with a similar question, a cheeky grin plastered on his beautiful face. “So, you ever been to any of our games?”

“No,” you answer simply.

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested in sports.”

“None at all?”

“None at all.”

“What ECAs did you have in highschool?” You look up at him. “I had plenty. Why do you wanna know?”

He shrugs. “Curiosity.” You sigh. “I was in the debate club, I worked for the school magazine, hosted multiple events, wrote articles, did internships, signed up for a bunch of award programs.”

Satoru’s eyes go wide. “And your SATs?”

“1560.”

Fuck. Satoru back in highschool was even bigger of a menace than he is now. With an SAT score of 1230 and basketball as the only ECA, it almost seems unfair to him now that both you and him are in the same university– one earned while the other given. Satoru never feels bad for exploiting his family’s money, after all, that’s the only thing they are willing to give him. But seeing someone work this hard– even harder than Nanami– to get to where they are is something Satoru can’t help but be impressed by.

And Satoru isn’t one to be impressed easily.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

A few weeks pass in a breeze and the air now carries the hint of winter, the first fall of snow just around the corner. Students are locked inside their rooms, their heads buried in textbooks trying to prepare for the upcoming exams.

“You better pass this one, Gojo,” you tell him one day as you both are sitting in his room.

“Yes, ma’am.” He makes a salute gesture, causing you to stifle a small smile.

“I don’t wanna be that person, but why don’t you smile much?” His question takes you aback. “I’m not saying you should smile more; do whatever you want. I’m just asking why.”

You shrug simply, the guards you have around you have weakened a little in the past few weeks, but they’re not completely shattered. “I don’t smile without a reason.”

“I crack jokes.”

“You’re not funny.”

He rolls his eyes with a slight smirk tugging up his mouth.

You check the time and your eyes widen. “How long have I been here for?”

He leans back against his chair, “Almost three hours.”

“Shit, I was gonna call Shoko to come pick me up.”

He laughs when he hears that. “Yeah, good luck with that. It’s exam season, she definitely has her phone turned off right now.” Catching the worried expression on your face, he adds, “Do you want me to drop you off?”

You think for a while, trying to figure out other possibilities. Once you fail to do so, you feel your guards cracking a little more as you answer, “Okay.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

The drive from his house to your campus dorm is a short one. Yet, something in you makes you want to stir up a conversation.

“So what made you start playing basketball?”

His eyes don’t drift from the road when he answers. “You know my dad, right? He was a professional basketball player. It’s all I’ve known ever since I can remember.”

You won’t admit it out loud, but you are impressed to see him be so passionate about something. “So, you’re close to your dad?”

The chuckle he lets out sounds almost bitter. “No, no, I’m not. I was sent to a boarding school when I was very young. Grew up there. Met Suguru and Shoko. Been home very less. My school’s coach was more of a father figure than my own dad ever was.”

Something pangs in your chest as you let his words sink in. “I’m sorry…”

“Nah, don’t be. It’s cool, you know? My parents were too busy with their own lives, I was busy with mine– it’s just what I’m used to.”

“So you don’t contact them?”

“When I need something, sure.” He pauses for a second. “I know what you think of me, okay?” His voice has a hint of sincerity now. “You think of me as some spoiled brat who loves to spend daddy’s money. And you know what? You’re absolutely right. I am that, shamelessly. But this is only because I realized at a very early age that money was the only way they would be present in my life, so I decided to exploit the shit out of it.”

You don’t have an answer to what he said. His experience of family is unique and unrelatable to you in every way. “I would’ve done the same if I were in your shoes,” you say, not quite believing your words. “You shouldn’t feel bad. You’re doing a great job.”

He looks at you like you hung the moon. “You think so?”

You try to hide your surprise at his reaction. “Yeah, I mean, you’re the captain of the team and the strongest player. You’ve been working so hard to get your grades up this semester, I’ve seen your dedication.” 

He smiles at you– not his usual cheeky smirk, but a genuine, heartfelt smile. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Don’t thank me, Gojo, I’m just stating an observation.”

“Satoru.”

“What?”

“Call me Satoru. It’s what my friends call me.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Are we friends?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You were nice to me just now. I doubt you’re nice to a lot of people.”

“Well…” you trail off.

“Well…?” he echoes as he stops his car in front of my dorm building. 

You unbuckle my seatbelt. “Maybe a conversation for another day. Thanks for the ride, Go– Satoru.”

He smiles for a split second before it is wiped away and replaced with a pondering expression. “Wait–”

You stop before you can open the car door. “Yeah?”

“Let me walk you to your room.”

It’s your turn to smile now. “I can walk myself to the dorm, Satoru.”

“It’s late.”

“I’m a big girl.”

“Come on.”

He’s so cute– wait what? Why would your mind go there? That’s Satoru Gojo, a certified college whore.

“Fine, walk me to my dorm room,” you hear yourself say. What is wrong with you?

The two of you get out of the car and begin to walk towards the building gate. The midnight air sways against your face while your cardigan protects the rest of your body. The place is quiet, only crickets heard amongst the trees. The moonlight reflects on the cars parked in the parking lot as you and Satoru walk through it.

“So you were saying?” He breaks the silence.

“What?”

“You said ‘Well…’,” he points out.

You chuckle softly as you look away to the ground. “Nothing really… you said you doubt I’m nice to a lot of people; I was gonna say I don’t talk to a lot of people to begin with.”

He looks at you with his head tilted in confusion. “Why’s that?”

You shrug. “Not a lot of people approach me here, you know? I just… exist, I guess. I mean, I’ve got Shoko. I talk to Nanami and Utahime sometimes. I’m not completely friendless, so that’s nice.”

“Three people in a college with around 20,000 students isn’t really… you know…” He trails off.

You feel the walls around you crumble a little as you speak. “I know, I know. But like I said, no one approaches me, which makes sense. And I’m not one to randomly approach people. Not great with social cues.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Why would you say it makes sense for no one to approach you?”

Why was he asking you so many questions? You can’t remember the last time someone had been interested in getting to know you in this way.

“I’m a scholarship student, I’m not exactly…” You try to think of a word, “relevant in your social hierarchy.”

He is quiet after you say that, probably trying to figure out how to respond to that. So instead, you continue, “It doesn’t matter to me. I always think that if they don’t want me, I’ll make myself needed. I’ll become an important person. My parents may not be rich, but who says I can’t be?”

“So you’re really ambitious,” he says. “I mean, I kind of got that from er– your constant hustle.”

You laugh at his remark, appreciating his humor instead of showing you pity like most would. 

The two of you begin to walk up the stairs to your floor when he asks, “Which floor is it again?”

“Second.”

“Right… I’ve never been here. Shoko’s always coming over to ours to hang out.”

“The three of you must be really close.” He nods. “Yeah, well, five now actually. Nanami and Haibara came along during our sophomore year when we moved in together. They are good athletes, so I thought keeping them close would be good for the team.”

You nod as you reach your dorm room and ring the doorbell. When Shoko doesn’t answer, Satoru says, “She’s probably at the library. Or with Suguru.”

You nod at the possibility as you take out your copy of the keys. The jingling echoes through the empty hallway. You unlock the door to reveal your room filled with darkness. Turning on the lights, you politely invite Satoru in, to which he happily obliges.

He casually plops down on your bed, his legs swinging down.

“Make yourself at home, don’t be shy,” you say sarcastically. His phone rings. When he picks it up, you watch his demeanor change as the person on the other side of the phone speaks.

“No, I told you guys to not attend any parties for a month,” he says in a serious tone that’s very unlike him. “We have practice first thing in the morning every day before the season starts, and I will not stand any mishaps.”

Listening to him scold his teammates and watching him be a good captain stirs something unknown in you. It’s so attractive for one to be this responsible and laidback at the same time. Your eyes roam around his big biceps, stopping at the hand that holds the phone against his ear. He has nice hands, you think, wondering how it might feel inside you. 

Snap out of it.

You will not throw yourself to him only to be tossed aside. You remind yourself why you’re with him– for a job. A deal that benefits the both of you equally. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then why did you tell him things you’ve never admitted to anyone?

What bothers you more is the fact that he was so interested in getting to know you. The way he is always so grounded around you makes you wonder if your previous perception of him being an arrogant asshole was just a misconception.

He hangs up the phone and smiles sheepishly at you, his dimples denting his cheeks. “Sorry,” he says. “It was Haibara.”

“It’s fine,” you say as you subconsciously move forward and sit beside him on your bed.

“Hi,” he says as his blue eyes pierce through you.

“Hi,” you smile back at him, unable to stop yourself from wondering what the hell he was doing in your dorm room of all places he could be right now. “Did you have to be somewhere?”

He scrunches his brows. “No, why?”

“No, I thought Haibara needed you or something.”

“Oh no, that’s been dealt with, don’t worry.”

When did you both sit so close together? You can almost feel his breath against your skin. “You have practice early in the morning.”

“I can function with less sleep.” He is almost too quick to answer.

Your faces are only inches away when his eyes fall to your lips. You close your eyes and feel his lips brush against yours. You kiss him back immediately. 

Once you give him the green light, he deepens the kiss and you let out a low moan. His tongue enters your mouth as he hovers over you on the bed with you lying on your back. He trails his kisses down your jaw while pressing down to your tit with one hand.

His other hand trails to your inner thighs and you feel the heat pool between your legs. You let out a needy gasp, causing him to contact his lips against yours again while his hand unbuttons your jeans and slides inside them. He rubs your clothed pussy and intoxicated bliss spreads over you.

“Ahh, fuck, Satoru,” you whine. He takes that as a sign and slips his fingers inside your panties. Your eyes roll back when you feel two fingers thrust inside you while his thumb works on your clit.

“Nghh, Satoru, fuck, hahh don’t stop,” you don’t even know how loud you’re being, neither do you care right now.

As you say that, he takes his hand out of your pants, which makes you squirm needily. He positions himself such that he is facing between your legs. He reaches for the hem of your jeans as you lift your hips up and he pulls them down, followed by your panties, leaving your bottom bare in front of him. 

He finally brings his face closer to your heat and licks a long stripe along the slit your pussy. You moan out in utter pleasure, spreading your legs further for better access. He begins to nibble at your clit, making you see splashes of euphoria in front your eyes. The pleasure is too all-consuming for you to even think of what’s right or wrong, of what you should or should not be doing. And you couldn’t be bothered to care about any of it right now. 

He adds two fingers deep in your cunt, hitting the g-spot repeatedly as his mouth sucks on your clit. You feel the pressure build up like waves. “So close, Satoru, don’t stop,” you cry out. The waves crash over the shore with a loud moan escaping your lips. 

You lay there panting, recovering from what you would call the best orgasm you’ve had in your life, as he sits up and looks down at you, a proud expression masking that pretty face of his, now all glistening in your juices.

The realization of what you just did hits you the moment the high dies down. You quickly close your legs and sit up, trying to find your panties. 

“What happened?” Satoru asks in a concerned tone. You ignore him and put your underwear on. 

Once you are done, you finally look at him. “Get out,” you state simply.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get out.”

“Did you not like it?”

“Gojo, leave.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

“What’s wrong?” you echo his words. “Everything about this is wrong. I’m your tutor. I work for you.”

“So?”

“So, we shouldn’t be doing this. It’s inappropriate.”

“Are you serious? I thought we–”

“No, I don’t know why I told you so much about myself. Starting tomorrow, everything is strictly professional, or I’m gonna have to quit.”

“Y/N, you can’t just say that, you know that, right?” Satoru sounds determined.

“Yes, I very much can. I’m sorry but I simply won’t let you think you can have me like that just because you’re you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“What I mean is that I know you hook up with like hundreds of girls, and I just don’t want to be another name you tick off on your list.”

He looks exasperated. “You think that’s what you are? A name on a list? First of all, I don’t have a fucking list. Secondly, I don’t hook up with hundreds of girls. I haven’t done that since freshman year.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t have the time to hook up with anyone.”

“You haven’t had sex since your freshman year?” Your voice is softer now.

“Not once.”

“Then why did you…” You don’t have to finish the sentence for him to understand it.

“Because I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, really. It felt right.”

You would be lying if you say it didn’t feel right for you. But you don’t tell him that. Instead you ask, “Since when have you wanted to?”

He reveals his dimples at that question, “Since you asked me if I would cooperate with you if you tutored me.”

This brings a chuckle to your voice. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, something about you bossing me around was… you know.”

You laugh at his words. “You’re a dumbass,” you say as you lean forward and take his lips to yours.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Revolving Around You

Beefy!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your ex, Wanda Maximoff, invites you to her wedding. You have no reason to go, but find a reason to stay.

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, alcohol consumption, and smoking weed

A/N: I really just wanted to write some Natasha fluff and I used the prompt [ wedding ] our muses are sat at the same table at a wedding for a mutual friend

You stared down at the invitation you had received from your long since ex, Wanda Maximoff, she'd be getting married soon. You really didn't talk much with Wanda anymore not since she got together with Vision, but when you did meet up and talk everything was fine.

You weren't expecting this though. Not this soon anyways as you stared down in shock at the lovely scarlet invite to their Spring wedding two months from now. Should you go? She sent the invite so obviously she wants you there, right? You grabbed your phone, scanning the QR code on the invite. It brought you to a page themed in such a way you could only assume it was their wedding theme. You checked off the box to RSVP. You held your breath after hitting send and even once the confirmation came through. Now you had to go through with it.

The ceremony was beautiful. Outside in the blossoming flower fields and apple trees of a rented out pasture. It honestly was a beautiful sight to behold. You'd gone wearing a light blue dress that fell at your mid thigh and a matching pair of open toed heels. Your hair in a half updo of a bun, the rest falling gracefully over your shoulders.

The reception itself was held in a renovated barn on the property. The table you were sitting at you knew no one. Well you didn't know anyone really at the wedding. You knew Wanda, Pietro, Vision, and the parents.

As everyone found their seats a raspy voice called out, “Looks like you're my seat mate for the next however many hours Wanda decides this reception should last.” Your head turned to see a red head, her hair in various braids. She wore a fitting suit that did absolutely nothing to hide all the muscles beneath the fabric. You could see her ear was covered in piercings along with her eyebrow and septum from the profile view you were currently getting. You couldn't help, but stare at the beauty sitting next to you. As you went to respond to the red head, she was shrugging off the suit jacket. The button up and tie she wore were almost the same as your dress. In fact if anyone were to give a quick glance they probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference. She hung the jacket on the chair. Turning towards you and as she rolled up her sleeves, revealing the double sleeves of tattoos on her arms.

“Wow…they're beautiful…” you meant to keep that thought in your head, but it slipped past your lips. A blush adorning your face as you turned away to hide.

“Well thank you pretty girl.” She leaned onto the table, all her attention on you as you downed your drink, suddenly feeling like you couldn't swallow. A chuckle falling past the redhead's lips. “I'm Natasha by the way, what's your name? Though I'll probably stick to calling you pretty girl with a reaction like that.” You looked over to see her smirking, another blush coming to your cheeks.

“Y/N…” you spoke quietly, but Natasha heard and tested it on her tongue,

“Y/N…hmmm I think that's a beautiful name that suits a pretty girl like you.”

A few hours into the reception you and Natasha are talking as if you've known each other your whole lives. Once the dance floor opens up after the first dance, Natasha holds out her hand. “Care to dance, pretty girl?” Her sultry voice finds your ears, sending a shiver through you. You don't speak a word, instead opting to just set your hand in hers. The way her hand held yours felt perfect, it felt right.

Her hand in yours, the other holding your waist as yours sat on her shoulder. She led the dance of you two and everything around you faded away. It was only Natasha. All you wanted to do was lean in and kiss the redhead, but you controlled yourself even though your head was swimming from the alcohol you've been consuming.

“You're, like, really handsome and beautiful.” You blurt out making her chuckle.

“Well pretty girl now that we've both said what we think about each other's appearance maybe we could go on a date outside of this wedding?” She offers cocking the pierced brow at you.

“Where do you live?” you slurred, looking up at her.

“New York.” Your eyes lit up, getting up closer to her face.

“Me too!” She smiled, leading you two outside the reception hall. Grabbing her jacket on the way out, setting it on your shoulders. The air had gotten cold now that the sun was down, but a bonfire was being lit by Vision's brother Tony and Wanda's brother Pietro.

You wanted to go over and get a seat, but Natasha had you against the wall. She wasn't holding you there, but she towered over you as she pulled you closer.

“Are you cold?” She asked in a low voice.

“Only a little. Your jacket is helping and your body heat...” Your voice trails off as you wrap your arms around her waist. You looked up at the redhead who took a hand to your cheek. Her thumb brushing gently over your skin.

“I could warm you up a bit more if you’d like?” You bit the inside of your lip, nodding your head as she pulled you against her, lifting you onto your tip toes as your lips brushed together. “Is this okay?” You didn’t answer verbally as you leaned up further to press your lips into hers. Your hands fisting her shirt and you were sure you wrinkled the fabric, but neither of you could bring yourself to care as you went from a simple kiss to her tongue swiping across your lip asking for entrance. When you opened your mouth for her and her tongue made its way into your mouth you realized she had a tongue piercing too, making you moan into her. She pulled you closer and didn’t pull away until you both were desperate for air.

She looked down at you with a satisfied smile. You knew you probably looked a bit hazy, the alcohol still swimming in your brain. You were normally much more reserved than this, but with everything that was happening you would have let Natasha take you right here in front of everyone and not cared one bit. Instead the two of you shared a handful of slow soft kisses as little whimpers and moans escaped you. It had been too long and you wanted her so badly, but one of your major rules was no sex on the first date and this wasn’t even a first date. This is a first meeting.

After Natasha had her fill with kissing you she pulled out a joint, flicking a lighter to it until you saw the paper start to burn, red glowing as she inhaled. As she exhaled she looked up towards the sky. You watched the cloud of smoke leave her lips, your jaw slack as you watched feeling a dampness pool between your thighs.

When Pietro came over he handed you a drink and asked if he could take a hit from Natasha who didn't mind as the two caught up. You stood there in awe, downing your drink, as the two went back and forth with the joint and with conversation.

Eventually the three of you made your way over to the bonfire. Wanda sat on Vision's lap as stories were told amongst friends and family. Natasha had sat down and practically mirrored Wanda when she pulled you to sit on her lap. You bit the inside of your lip as she held you against her, carrying on in her conversations. Your eye caught Wanda's, a knowing smirk on her face making you huff and look down.

“What's wrong pretty girl?” You felt Natasha's cheek press against your arm.

“Nothing…” you tried to lie, but she gripped your hip tight. A moan wanting to rip through you. “W-Wanda was looking…” you quietly admitted.

“Didn't the two of you date for a bit?” You nodded in response. “I'm surprised she let you go for someone like him.” Your head turned to face her. “Wanda's my best friend, but I think she's stupid for letting you go.” You felt your whole body go hot and a puddle between your thighs.

“T-thanks Natasha.” You spoke shyly, turning yourself more into her, burying your face against her. The alcohol was wearing off and you were getting tired without more being added into your system.

“Get comfy sweetie. I'm gonna keep talking with my friends.” Natasha's hand found your back, pulling you close. Her other arm hooking around your thighs to hold you there. You smiled against her. You thought this whole thing would be disastrous seeing your ex getting married, but meeting Natasha and getting to spend the whole evening together. Getting to kiss her and her just holding you in her arms. You hadn’t felt this happy or this secure in...you couldn’t even remember how long. You slowly fell asleep against her chest, listening to her heart beat, the sounds of people talking and the bonfire crackling.

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Thinking about: Hairdresser X.MH

💭Who: Xu Minghao (Seventeen) x reader 💭What: Fluff. Friends to lovers. Co-workers. Hairdresser Minghao. Hairdresser reader. 💭Word count: 2.4k 💭Warnings: None! 💭Summary:“For months now, you’ve pined after your co-worker and friend, Xu Minghao. You haven’t let yourself even entertain the possibility of your feelings being reciprocated in fear of getting your heart broken.

But, in the midst of bleaching your hair for you one evening, Minghao shows you that your heart will always be safe in his gentle hands.”

Masterlist

A/N – Thank you to my beabie @ourdawnishotterthanourday for helping me with the summary! 💗

“What are you doing?” The amused tone of your co-worker and friend makes you look over at him where he’s sweeping up from his last client, and away from the mirror you’d been staring into while holding various shades of blonde extensions up against your face.

“I think I want to go blonde,” you inform.

“Oh, really?” He looks at your natural hair in surprise. “I always assumed you don’t like to colour your own hair, you’re the only one of us who has their natural colour,” he muses, prompting you to look over the other hairdressers and stylists around the salon.

Although you logically know they all have dyed hair, even in natural colours, because you’ve probably dyed and bleached all of their hair at least once over the past few years, it hasn’t really clicked until Minghao points it out that you are genuinely the only one without coloured hair. Even Minghao as the newest member of the team, has streaks of various colours mixed in with his otherwise dark and shaggy hair, some of which you had put in only days ago with left over dye from a client, turning the last of his blond streaks a royal purple.

“I used to when I was a teen, but it got messed up so much that I don’t trust people to touch it anymore,” you explain with a shrug and turn back to the mirror to try and decide which shade you like best. “I know everyone here is incredible at their jobs and I’d highly recommend them all, but I just can’t bring myself to let them near my hair with scissors, let alone dye.”

“Ah, so offering to stay behind with you today to bleach it for you is pointless,” he realises with a chuckle and moves to empty the dustpan and wash his hands.

When he returns, you’re looking between two different extensions in your hands. He plucks them both up and turns you to him so that he can hold them either side of your face consideringly. You can only stare at his focused features and hope that your awe for this beautiful, kind hearted and endlessly talented man isn’t obvious on your expression.

From the very first moment Minghao was introduced to you as the newest member of the team months back, you were taken. At first it was his natural beauty and uniquely elegant, yet artistic style, paired with his shy smiles that pulled you in. But as you got to know him and became friends, you realised that everything about this man is utterly endearing, and you would love to have the chance to know him romantically too. Yet, you don’t want to risk ruining your working and platonic relationship with him that you do your best to keep your feelings to yourself.

“This one,” he decides, lifting the blonde hairs in his right hand higher, making you look at it instead of him. Silently, you take the extension and turn back to the mirror to hold it up. “I think you’ll look stunning in that shade.”

“Yeah?” He hums in confirmation. “This one it is,”  you agree and notice the way he smiles because you approve his choice. “So uh, you don’t have anything to do after work?” You wonder.

“Hm?”

“You said you’ll stay to do it for me?” You turn just enough to peer at him and notice his expression turn mildly surprised. “I’d like that; I think I’d really fuck up if I tried to do the back myself.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I’d love to have the honour,” he smiles softly. “We’ll do the patch and strand test now and bleach after work?”

“Sounds good, thanks, Hao.”

“Of course, any time.”

Which leads to a few hours later when everyone has gone home and the salon is closed for customers, the keys left with the pair of you today, Minghao pats the chair at his station invitingly, prompting you to sit and allow him to put the cape in his hands around your shoulders securely to protect your clothes.

He had finished with his last client with enough time to clean up his station and prepare everything needed to bleach your hair, including all of the foils and the bleach itself so it’s all set up neatly in wait for this moment.

“Sure about this?” He checks for the last time when he’s finished sectioning your hair and pulled on his gloves to get started.

“I trust you,” you assure, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror in front of you. Minghao’s expression softens slightly, and his eyes do that tender thing they do sometimes, which never fails to make your heart race.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and brushes his hand over your shoulder before he grabs the bleach and gets started diligently painting it onto your hair.

As Minghao works, the two of you talk about everything and anything that comes to mind; art, movies, music, family, friends, work, food, nothing is out of bounds for you two but curiously, one thing Minghao never asks about, nor mentions, is romance.

You know he’s single thanks to co-workers having been excited to learn as much when he started, and they still regularly seem to be updated on his lack of love life, but he hasn’t once mentioned it to you or asked about your own. You can’t tell if he’s purposely not talking about it or if he’s just following your lead and not bringing it up.

Honestly, you’re kind of glad either way because you dread to think of the day he is no longer single, and you have to learn that someone else has his attention.

Sometimes, you think about just biting the bullet and asking him to get dinner with you after work as a date, not just as co-workers and friends. But every time you approach him to ask, you lose all your nerve and fail to make the distinction, so you end up sitting with him in the same restaurant as usual with your heart aching. Though his sole attention and bright smiles on you always picks you back up before dessert is over, so it’s not a complete loss. At least you still have him by your side as a dear friend, something you hope will remain for a long time.

By the time Minghao is putting the last foil in and moving around to stand in front of you with his careful gaze glued to the crazy silver mess atop your head, the conversation has only just ceased, to be replaced with a comfortable quiet.

It always amazes you that Minghao is a man of few words with his clients, he’ll respond to them politely and give smiles, but his clients know he’s not the one to go to if they want someone to listen to then blather away the whole time or gain a reciprocated line of conversation with.

Minghao is quiet and efficient, professional yet still friendly.

Yet he has barely stopped talking since he first started on your hair and not even just to respond. He’s started new topics, made jokes, and even walked away at one point from laughing so hard that he had to lean against the chair of the next station until he gained his composure, only to return with sweet giggles spilling from his lips.

It makes you feel beyond privileged to see the man like this; so open and bright when he’s always careful with his reactions and sparse words with all of your shared colleagues. Even outside of work when you go for staff meals and drinks out, Minghao tends to remain content in his calm bubble while watching everyone else act like fools with a little smile on his face. You would assume he’s just naturally a listener in all regards, but with you he instigates and talks, laughs, and playfully nudges you when you make jokes or tease him.

If you weren’t already so infatuated with the man, you’d think he likes you, but you refuse to entertain that thought and get your hopes up. You think it would crush you too much to have your heart broken by Minghao, even if you know he would be nothing but gentle with it all the same. He’d hand your shattered heart back in delicate, tender hands, and that would hurt even more than the rejection.

Sometimes you wish Minghao isn’t such a kind person, sometimes you wish he’d tell you to stop talking or turn down dinner invites, but he never does. He always turns to you to listen patiently and accepts with a smile on his pretty face. It both lifts you up into the clouds and drags you deeper into the aching abyss of your own feelings for him.

“There,” he declares once he leans back, eyes still darting over your head to check everything is correct even as he removes his gloves to toss onto the station behind him. “Now, we wait.”

“Now we wait,” you agree with a nod, causing the foils to bob above you, making Minghao giggle. “Don’t laugh,” you complain, gently nudging his leg with your foot in something so weak it can’t even be considered a scolding kick. He smiles at you brighter. “You should count yourself lucky to be here with me like this, I wouldn’t let just anyone make me look this insane.”

“I always count myself lucky when I’m with you,” he retorts simply and turns to tidy up as if he hasn’t just caused your heart to body-slam against your ribs erratically.

You can only watch, struck silent by his words, as he moves around to clean up, disappearing into the backroom to wash everything he needs to and put away items.

When he returns he starts to talk, though about what you’re not really sure, at least not actively because a part of you is always tuned in to Minghao enough to understand the topic and carry on the conversation naturally, as if a part of you isn’t still having a breakdown over his blasé words.

Minghao perches on the table of his station in front of you as you talk despite there being a chair a few metres on your left at the next station. His feet are on the floor pretty much underneath where your own are propped on the bar of the chair.

There’s not that much space between you right now so you’re glad he didn’t sit in the next chair, while also wishing he had so that your heart would stop racing with nervous hope.

As the topic ends, Minghao doesn’t start another one and you don’t have the brain capacity to even attempt to either. He hasn’t looked away from you once and there’s something contemplative in his eyes that doesn’t match his relaxed expression.

Then, only seconds after quiet envelops you both, Minghao leans forward, one hand lifting from where it’s holding the edge of the desk beside him so that he can gently cup your cheek a second before his lips touch yours.

You’re too shocked to respond, mind whirling and screaming as your heart tries to break free of the confinements of your chest to jump into his elegant hands to make a home there in his peaceful touch.

When Minghao pulls back after only a few seconds of soft pressure, he gives you small, apologetic smile and settles back against the table while both hands grip the edge. “Sorry, I just…I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time and couldn’t stop myself anymore.”

“Y-you have?” He nods and then yelps when you reach out to hit his arm.

“Ow! I said sorry!” He defends and flails to grab your hands before you can whack him again, even if you are barely adding any sting to your touch, not wanting to hurt him and he knows that, he has to know that.

“Why did you have to pick now when I look like this?!” You exclaim and free one hand from his hold to motion to your hair.

He glances up at the foils then looks at you. “I don’t understand.”

“I look crazy, Minghao! Of all the times you could kiss me, you chose this to be the first? Now this is what we’re both going to think of every time our first kiss comes up! Couldn’t you have chosen a time when I look decent?”

“You’re ridiculous,” he declares flatly then leans over to press a quick peck to your lips again. “You’re always beautiful to me,” his lips brush against yours as he speaks.

“Hao…” You reach up to touch your fingers to his jaw gently. “Do you mean that?”

“When have I ever said something I don’t mean?”

“I…Good point,” you concede then tilt your chin up the miniscule distance needed to kiss him. You feel his lips turn up into a smile before he kisses you back.

“I want to clarify,” he says when he’s leaning against the table again, but he’s slouched more now so that he can comfortably hold your hand with your fingers laced together. “I really like you and I would like to date you, not just kiss. But I’d of course like to do that too, a lot, if possible.”

“Very possible,” you confirm with an emphatic nod that makes him giggle as the foils flop around your head comically. “I’ve been trying to ask this for so long now but tonight, please get dinner with me, as a date, not just friends.”

Minghao doesn’t answer at first, but he does light up with joy before he sweeps back in to kiss you happily, hands cupping your cheeks to brush his thumbs over your skin adoringly.

After many kisses, Minghao finally agrees to get dinner as your first date before you kiss, and kiss until he has to wash the bleach from your hair.

Then you kiss some more and barely make it to the restaurant in time to eat. You don’t mind not being able to order dessert when Minghao pulls you in close once outside of the restaurant and out of the way, to slot his lips adoringly against yours.

You’d pick kissing this beautiful man over dessert any day and you’re finally understanding that the feeling, your feelings, are entirely mutual.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @tusswrites, @svtiddiess

[fridgrave2-0]

I'm tired of pretending that I'm okay with ford being an absolute asshole towards fiddleford and basically abusing him.

first of all, yes, it's not ford's fault that he was manipulated (doubtful tbh) and abused by bill, but that doesn't give him the right to be a jerk who closes his eyes on his friend's deepest traumas. the traumas fiddleford got only because stanford completely ignored his warning and got fidds involved into bunch of shit. like his monster hunting which wasn't even the reason fiddleford went to gravity falls in the first place. he was there to help ford build the portal, not to be a part of ford's anomaly quest. and when fiddleford spoke out against it he was ignored because ford doesn't give a shit about anyone else but himself or his muse. fiddleford got traumatized physically and mentally so deeply that in the need to be able to sleep at night peacefully he completely destroyed his mind to the state that even bill was scared to be in there. and what stanford did? he (the one who couldn't care less about fidds warning him about gremoblin) critiqued fiddleford for using the memory gun and didn't even bother to apologize or say that he's sorry in the journal. god, what am I saying, he didn't even took fiddleford to the hospital after fiddleford feel from the sky through the roof of a fucking barn with a dozen of poisonous quills in his body AND A BROKEN ARM. ford described what happened to fidds in the journal, said he "took him home for a treatment" and the next two paragraphs on the other page is "good news the hyperdrive works" LIKE IS THAT THE ONLY THING YOU CARE ABOUT WHAT THE HELL??? "despite our fortune, I have become worried about my assistant... I myself have survived many monster attacks without trauma, but perhaps F is more sensitive that I realized". no shit sherlock, who would've imagine that seeing your worst nightmares and being poisoned can leave a mark on your mental state. sure it's just fiddleford, he's just overreacting because he's "sensitive"))) /src

ford was ignoring fiddleford's concerns all the fucking time that mcgucket was there with him, he took a superstitious and religious guy with anxiety into the forest with real ass monsters who's no one but ford is used to see. fiddleford was warning stanford about shifty and got kidnapped with his identity stolen by the shapeshifter because ford didn't listen. well, at least this time stanford had bothered to apologize for another traumatic event- ah no, next thing ford said is that when the portal is finished all the traumas fiddleford had been through were "worth it". ford just finds ways to make everything worse

we all know that fiddleford has an addictive personality and that the memory gun is the biggest example of that. what we don't talk enough about is that ford at some point decided that sleeping is for losers, but didn't stop at himself and made fiddleford drink 13 fucking cups of coffee, not allowing him to sleep, what in the future made fiddleford a caffeine addict. ford is not only an overworking idiot who gladly damages his own health, no! he wants fiddleford to be the same and quote "gets frustrated" when fiddleford cares not only about his own, but their both basic needs. fiddleford had to work on the portal, get in the trouble with monsters because of ford, but also babysit this manchild to prevent him collapsing from exhaustion (which is more impossible than building a giant portal into the multiverse)

and here we are, the portal testing. once again (and as always) fiddleford did warned ford about everything. fiddleford was working without breaks for days to make sure if the portal will work, and when he found the flaws, he wrote a whole fucking thesis paper, putting all ford's research into a solid work (not taking even smallest credit even tho he was the one to build the portal. when fiddleford had his own theory in the university, ford helped him to only proof that fidds wasn't going crazy by checking the calculations and ford bothered to take the credit for the whole theory, but fiddleford who was a part and a victim of this monumental theory of weirdness didn't took it because he unlike ford doesn't care only about fame). but what did stanford do? he assumed that fiddleford wanted to steal his fucking fame and backstab him. ford didn't even bother to look at something fiddleford was making for three days without resting to make sure that portal won't hurt anyone in the town and that ford won't end up with empty hand if the portal was indeed a lost cause. stanford coldly dismissed fiddleford like they weren't friends, said that he doesn't really waiting fiddleford for the test of the device that fiddleford did built, and even knowing that the portal was dangerous fiddleford chose to come for the test

and then fiddleford got in the portal and it was the biggest traumatic event for him. it was the breaking point for him from which he couldn't stop using the memory gun. it damaged him so much, that he turned from that bright 30-y.o. man into the familiar to us old man mcgucket in the span of two years. his life was ruined for another 30 years, a half of his life he was a mad lonely guy who lived in the junkyard. the man who could've become someone like steve jobs but much better if only he didn't go to help stanford. his family could've been full, tate could have his father. the incident with the portal was the moment of no return for fiddleford, and what did stanford do?

when fiddleford got sucked in the portal, he thought only about the success of his work, that for fidds it was "a remarkable opportunity to confirm or deny the theory" (which he already did with his pre-test research). he didn't think that it was dangerous on the other side, that the portal wouldn't just disintegrate fidds on atoms. and when stanford saw him speaking in a non-human way, shaking and twitching in shock like fiddleford did after the gremoblin incident, ford decided it was nothing. when fiddleford warned him about the apocalypse because he was in the portal and saw it with his own eyes, ford, as always, didn't listen. he didn't just not care about fidds' condition — he diminished everything fiddleford was feeling and everything he witnessed only because it didn't fit in ford's believes which were based just on bill's words (and for stanford it's not something new to belittle things related to fiddleford. he wasn't taking fidds' dream of creating a portable computer seriously, believing that his weirdness theory was much more important)

and after this, stanford insults fiddleford and his family in the journal. he says that he doesn't regret their partnership (it's not really a partnership if stanford didn't count fiddleford as an equal) and friendship breaking up. "to think I considered him a friend!" I doubt he ever did. stanford doesn't know shit about being a good friend (or even a decent person) to someone who sacrificed everything for him. who did put his life aside to be with ford, who cared enough to stay despite stanford again and again putting him in danger, constantly waving him away and feeling no remorse for that. fiddleford was breaking himself for this guy, he canonically was going through "I am nobody to ford if I don't build stuff for him" (and in the end this is exactly what happened). fiddleford didn't tell ford most of his fears and concerns because he didn't want to bother him. fidds was constantly scared and kept in inside because he wanted to be a "better partner". "if I have an anxiety, I will pop anxiety pills", "I'm gonna get through this". and then he didn't

fiddleford was abused by stanford. he was to stanford that ford was to bill, in some ways even worse. it's fucking wild that fiddleford did forgive ford after 30 years of a neverending madness nightmare with his mind being destroyed so much as like it was the earth in the times of the dinosaurs after being hit by the meteorite. fiddleford had lost literally everything, he wasn't even himself for a half of his life and still fidds found the strength to forgive someone who is responsible for it and who used him with regular emotional neglect. and you know what? fuck this. ford would never forgive bill and fiddleford had every right to stay mad at stanford. ford needed to be stuck in the portal to get his head out of the ass and by that time there were only crumbs of someone who fiddleford once was

fiddauthor and billford both are about abuse and toxic relationships. it's up to you what you like to ship, but we need to acknowledge the fact that fiddauthor isn't some fluffy healthy thing where both are happy. fiddleford was never happy and stanford didn't care about fiddleford and his feelings. they made each other worse and ford ruined fidds' life. THIS is the real fiddauthor

[tune-on-in-folks]

This is a rewrite of an earlier draft, just in time before midnight lmao. Enjoy day 5, where Vox hypnotizes you.

Tags/Warnings: Hypnosis, questionable consent, dub-con sorta, fem!reader, p in v, masturbation, multiple orgasms for both parties, photo taking Word Count: 2,095

Vox had discovered early into knowing you that he couldn't hypnotize you. At first it had frustrated him to no end. How was it that there was someone else who could resist his hypnosis? You weren't even an Overlord! He could at least hypnotize Valentino... So what made you different?

It was a question that faded away as he got to know you. You were intelligent, not as weak-willed as most of the Sinners in Pentagram City. It was only natural that you could resist his hypnosis. Still, a deep part of him was completely miffed at it. He prided himself in his powers, after all.

He was watching some mindless show with you beside him on the couch when you spoke up.

“How would you feel about hypnotizing me?” Your voice was soft, curiosity clear in your voice.

Vox paused his show, turning to look at you, his eyes searching your face. “My hypnosis doesn't work on you.”

He didn't know why you were asking him how he felt about it when you both knew you weren’t susceptible.

You roll your eyes, “Just answer the question.”

He raised an eyebrow but thought about it. “I don’t really have a need to hypnotize you, babydoll. So I don’t know how I’d feel about it. Why?”

You shift onto your knees, shuffling over to settle onto his lap. “You could hypnotize me. It hasn’t worked before because I’ve never given you my consent to do so before.”

You press a soft kiss against his lips, “There’s always a level of consent to it, you can’t make me do something I don’t want to do.”

He returns your kiss, his hands moving to your waist, holding you against him. “What I’m hearing is that I can actually hypnotize you?”

You nod, kissing down his neck. “Correcto! I give you my consent and you can hypnotize me. So…what do you think about hypnotizing me?”

He thinks for a second, his fingers idly playing with the hem of your shirt. You press kisses against his neck, nibbling here and there.

Vox groans, “In what context are you asking me, doll?”

You pull back, meeting his gaze. “Well you see…I kind of have a hypnosis kink. So in the context of us… having sex.”

He blinks in surprise, a shocked chuckle escaping him. “You have a hypnosis kink and you’re only telling me this now?”

You nod, “I am. I trust you, Vox. Enough to surrender my mind to you and let you do whatever the fuck you want…well to an extent. You can’t do anything to me that I don’t want on some subconscious level.”

A soft blush covers his screen and you can feel his cock twitching to life beneath you at the thought. “Shit, baby. I wasn’t expecting this from you.”

You giggle, pressing another soft kiss against his lips. “Well? Do you want to?”

“Uh, fuck yes?” He responds, his smile widening. “Come on babydoll, surrender your mind to me.”

You roll your eyes at his words but meet his gaze. His left eye starts to swirl with his hypnotic powers. You take a deep breath, relaxing in his arms. You trusted Vox not to abuse what you were offering and with that, you gave your consent. His powers seeped into your mind, blanketing it with a hazy fog. Your body relaxed against him, slumping slightly. Vox watched you carefully, taking note of how your eyes were taken over with the red and black spirals of his powers. How your body relaxed against him. The sight was alluring. He could almost get drunk on the sight of you, knowing you were compliant to him.

“What to do, what to do…” he muses, rubbing at the bottom of his screen, as though rubbing his chin.

Deciding to test the waters he suggests, “Stand up.”

You do so immediately, climbing off his lap to stand before him. Vox looked up at you, letting his hands fall from your hips. He could make you do a lot. Not everything, and certainly nothing against your subconscious boundaries. But a lot.

Still he asks, “You said there's a level of consent…that means I can't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with, correct?”

You nod, your voice low, “correct.”

“And if I suggest something that you don’t like?”

“I’ll wake up.” Came your reply.

He nods, “Okay.. then how about you strip for me, doll?”

Vox watches, entranced, as you began to strip. Your shirt dropped to the floor, your pants following. He bit his bottom lip, watching you shimmy out your panties and pull off your bra. His eyes raked down your body slowly, taking in your curves. The way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He reached for his belt, freeing himself from the confines of his pants. He was hard to an almost painful extent, precum leaking down his cock.

“How long have you wanted me to hypnotize you and fuck you?” He asked, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock.

“Months.” You murmur, your eyes locking in on his cock.

He smirks, “Did you touch yourself thinking about me using you?”

You nod, your legs pressing together as your arousal builds. “Yes.”

“Shit.” He says, beginning to pump his cock slowly. “Show me how you touched yourself.”

You moved immediately, your hand sliding down in between your legs. You gathered up the slick from your cunt, dragging it up to swirl around your clit. Your other hand circled your nipples, pinching the hardening buds. You slipped your fingers lower, slipping them inside you.

Vox felt himself getting harder, his hand moving a little faster on his cock.

“Bring yourself to orgasm, babydoll.”

He watched as your efforts doubled, loud moans spilling from your lips. You stood in the middle of the living room, pleasuring yourself for him. It was almost too much. You cried out, your body jerking as you came around your own fingers.

“Stop.” He requested, watching you pull your fingers from your dripping hole.

He sat back, his hand stalling around his cock. “Come here and staddle me.”

You followed his command, climbing back onto his lap, his cock brushing against your entrance. Vox grasped your hips again, lining you up before pulling you down onto his cock. He groaned, clenching his teeth as your tight pussy enveloped him.

He was ready to up the ante, “You want me to keep fucking you, no matter how sensitive you are. You feel empty without my cock inside you. You will do anything to get me to keep fucking you. Understand?”

You bite back a whimper, nodding desperately. “Yes.”

He pulled you down into a kiss, rolling his hips into you slowly, “fuck, doll, you’re so wet for me.”

He moved you up and down his cock, slowly fucking into you. His pace picked up, his thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit. Your head fell back, your body taking over his movements to bounce on his cock.

“That’s it.” He mutters, kissing down your neck.

He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking softly. Vox moves from nipple to nipple, relishing in your moans. The sound of him fucking into you filled the air obscenely. He pulled back, watching as you fucked yourself on his cock.

“You look so beautiful. So dumb and compliant on my cock. Not a thought in that smart head of yours right now, is there?”

You shake your head no, your body tensing as you grow closer to another release.

Vox stopped his thrusts, his hands tightening around you, stopping you from moving. You cried out, confusion and frustration filling you.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“No!” You respond quickly, your mind wanting him to continue fucking you. “Please!”

He chuckled, realizing his suggestion was working. Vox resumed his thrusts, rolling up against you.

“Go on, doll. You can fuck yourself on my cock.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, your hands tightening against his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. Your movements begin again, your pace in time with his. It wasn’t long before your orgasm was rising up again. Your walls fluttered around him, drawing a guttural groan from Vox.

“Cum for me.” He mutters, his hips snapping up into you sharply, his thumb pressing a little harder against your clit.

Your body quakes as your release hits you hard. Your head falls forward against his chest, your body still moving automatically.

“Vox!” You whine, your walls squeezing his cock tightly.

“Fucccck.” He groans, his breathing ragged as his own release hits him unexpectedly.

He drags you down onto him, thrusting up into you as deep as he can go as he cums. He stills after a moment, catching his breath. It takes him a moment to calm down when he sees you wiggling desperately.

He chuckles, “You want me to keep fucking you, babydoll?”

You nod, “Yes, please. Please keep fucking me, Vox.”

He rolls his hips against you once more, his cock hardening again. He lifts you off his lap, a whine escaping your lips at the loss of his cock.

“Lay down on the couch and hold your knees to your chest.” He demands.

He watches as you move. You lay down, bringing your knees to your chest and holding them there. Vox settles in between your legs, sliding back inside you. The position let him slide deeper inside you, his cock-head kissing against your cervix.

“You look so beautiful like this…Can I take a photo?”

You bite your lip but nod. Vox’s eyes widened, not having expected you to say yes. He pulls his phone from his pants, still hanging loosely around his waist. He snaps a picture of you. He was cock balls deep inside you, pressing you down in a mating press.

He fumbles slightly, sending you the photo. Your phone dings on the coffee table as he tosses his aside. Vox rolls his hips down against you, slowly picking up speed with every pass.

His voice glitches, “Fuccck.”

Vox leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his body pressing even deeper inside of you. A mewl tears from your lips at the sensation, your walls fluttering around his cock once again. Another orgasm was building in your gut, swirling tighter and tighter.

“Going to cum inside you, doll.” Vox gasps, his pace bruising. “Can you give me one more release?”

You nod, “y-yes.”

He chuckles, seeing that, despite your hypnosis, you had learned your lesson in not responding to his questions. His hips slapped into you harshly with every rough thrust of his, sending you closer and closer to your inevitable release. Your arms reached around his back, pulling him tighter against you.

“Please.” You whimper, “Please.”

“Please, what?” He prompts.

“Cum inside me.” You whine, “I need to feel you, Vox. Please, please, please.”

He smiles, his hips stuttering at your begging. “Cum for me one more time, babydoll and then I’ll give you what you want.”

His hand slipped in between your bodies, finding your clit again. Vox had barely touched you when you cried out, your release crashing down over you.

“That’s it.” He praises, “So good, so good for me.”

His pace never slows down despite how tightly your walls clenched around his cock.

“Just like that….oh fuUUCCK!” His voice glitched out, a party noisemaker sound emitting from his speakers as he came.

His hot cum splashed against your cervix, filling you up. Vox slowed down his thrusts, idly fucking his cum deeper into you. You mewled at the sensation, your body overly sensitive. He came to a stop, his eyes meeting yours.

“Wake for me, doll.” He whispers, watching the swirls fade from your eyes.

You blinked up at Vox, the haze falling away from your mind. You both were panting from the exertion. Vox slowly pulled out of you, the sensation causing you to mewl. He helped you sit up.

“You did so good for me, baby. Do you…remember any of that?”

You take a moment to catch your breath before confirming, “I do.”

Vox stands offering you his hand, “Let’s go clean up, hmm?”

You smile, taking his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “Thank you, for not abusing the trust I gave you.”

Vox’s expression softens, “I’d never. Now let’s get you cleaned up and then maybe I’ll take you out to dinner. Sound good?”

Your smile widens, your eyes shining with adoration for the Overlord. “Yeah, that sounds good, my love.”

[lousypotatoes]

Falling In Love With You

"Heaven knows your name, I've been prayin'

To have you come here by my side

Without you a part of me is missing

Just to make my whole I will fight~"

I Love You Too Much - Diego Luna, Gustavo Santolalla

--

Previous

Next

The next day few days were a bit strange to everyone in the Hazbin Hotel.

As if nothing ever happened between the two angels, Lucifer and Y/N were hanging out, whether they were sitting on the couch talking, or just staring at the night sky together.

The uneasy suspicion surrounding Lucifer and Y/N's newfound friendship hadn't completely disappeared, but the residents of the Hazbin Hotel had, at the very least, accepted it. Mostly.

Sure, Angel Dust still shot them side-eyes every time they so much as stood near each other. Husk grumbled about "unholy alliances" under his breath, and Cherri Bomb had taken it upon herself to test just how close they'd gotten by dropping suggestive comments whenever possible.

But, for the most part, life at the hotel moved on.

That didn't stop everyone from subtly (or not-so-subtly) keeping an eye on the duo whenever they were in the same room. And today? Today was no different.

The scene: the hotel's lounge.

Right now, they were seated in the lounge, an ornate chessboard between them, a faint glow of hellfire from the chandelier above casting long shadows on the walls. Y/N, ever composed, moved her knight with a practiced hand, her expression unreadable.

Lucifer, lounging in his chair with a smirk, lazily twirled a glass of wine between his fingers. "You always did favor knight strategies," he mused. "Still predictable, Y/N."

"I favor effective strategies," she corrected, giving him a pointed glance. "Perhaps if you spent less time posturing and more time thinking, you would be winning."

Lucifer let out a low chuckle. "Oh, how cruel. Wounding me so deeply, right here in my own home." He moved his queen with a flourish. "Check."

Y/N hummed, studying the board. "Mm. Clever. But not clever enough." She moved her rook. "Checkmate."

Lucifer blinked, then let out a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart. "Oh, the betrayal. The shame."

She arched a brow. "You knew it was coming."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I can't be dramatic about it."

It was a bizarre sight, indeed.

The contrast was downright comical.

And the rest of the hotel was watching.

Angel Dust peeked over the edge of the couch. "What the hell do they even talk about?" he whispered.

Cherri Bomb, sitting next to him, shrugged. "Dunno. But I bet ten bucks it's weirdly polite."

"I bet fifty it's secretly flirty," Angel countered.

Vaggie, who was nearby, groaned. "Will you two stop? They're just sitting there."

Angel huffed. "Yeah, but it's suspicious."

Husk, who was nursing a whiskey at the bar, rolled his eyes. "Or maybe they just got over their shit and decided not to make things harder than they already are."

Angel narrowed his eyes. "Or maybe they're secretly plottin' some kind of scheme."

Cherri gasped. "Ohhh, you think they're gonna, like, take over Hell together?"

Angel snapped his fingers. "Exactly! Or, I dunno, maybe Y/N's planning a sneaky angel redemption scheme on Luci-boy. Either way, something's up."

Vaggie, who had been listening from the armchair, groaned. "Or maybe, just maybe, they're two people who had a fight, talked it out, and now they're tolerating each other like normal beings?"

Angel scoffed. "In this hotel? Fat chance."

Meanwhile, across the room, Lucifer poured himself another glass of wine, not even bothering to hide his amusement. "You do realize they're talking about us, don't you?"

Y/N didn't even glance up as she started resetting the chessboard. "I do. They are not subtle."

Lucifer chuckled, glancing lazily toward the peanut gallery. “My dear residents, must you stare so openly? At least pretend to be inconspicuous.”

Angel, instead of being embarrassed, doubled down. He crossed his arms. “Listen, boss man, you can’t just go from ‘tense celestial ex-rivals’ to ‘afternoon chess buddies’ overnight and expect us to be chill about it.”

Lucifer grinned. “Oh, but where would the fun be if I made things easy to understand?”

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temple. “You enjoy the theatrics.”

“Of course I do.”

Charlie poked her head in, looking hopeful. “So… you two really are just getting along now?”

Y/N gave her a small, reassuring nod. “It is as I have said before, our past conflicts have been resolved. That is all.”

Charlie’s smile brightened. “That’s great!”

Angel Dust leaned toward Husk. “Bet ya five bucks this ‘friendship’ ends in some messy drama.”

Husk smirked. “Nah. I bet ten it lasts just to piss you off.”

Lucifer raised his glass in a mock toast. “Well, gentlemen, may the odds be ever in your favor.”

Y/N sighed again, but there was the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips.

The Hazbin Hotel’s library was surprisingly grand, though it had an air of neglect, as if its existence was more of an aesthetic choice rather than a place frequently visited. Dust motes floated lazily in the dim lighting, shelves stretched high toward the ceiling, packed with books in various states of wear. Some volumes radiated a strange energy, remnants of magic or curses lingering in the bindings. Others were more mundane, well-worn classics, history books, poetry collections.

Y/N sat at a small table near one of the towering shelves, a book spread open before her. Her posture was poised, her expression serene as her eyes traced over the aged pages.

She had needed a moment of quiet, away from the noise of the lobby, away from the ever-curious eyes watching her interactions with Lucifer. Even with the so-called acceptance of their newfound friendship, there was an undeniable air of skepticism in the hotel. She could sense it. Feel it in the way conversations would hush when she entered a room.

Not that she blamed them.

Still, here, at least, she could breathe.

Or so she thought.

A voice, rich with amusement and something far more unsettling, slid through the air like a melody out of tune.

“Well, well, what have we here?”

Y/N didn’t startle, though she did pause briefly before looking up.

Alastor stood a few feet away, his ever-present grin stretched wide across his face. His red eyes gleamed, unreadable yet sharp, always watching, always calculating. He twirled his fingers idly, as if toying with the air itself, before stepping closer.

Y/N regarded him calmly. “Good evening, Alastor.”

The Radio Demon’s grin twitched, just a fraction wider. “Ah, so polite! How delightful.” His voice crackled faintly, like an old radio tuning between frequencies. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to find you here.”

She tilted her head slightly. “Why is that?”

His crimson gaze flicked toward the bookshelves. “Oh, just a hunch,” he mused, placing a hand over his chest in mock innocence. “You don’t strike me as the type to… linger.”

Y/N held his stare. “I enjoy literature.”

“Oh, don’t we all?” Alastor chuckled. He stepped closer, tilting his head at the book she was reading. “Paradise Lost. Ah, how fitting.”

Her fingers stilled on the edge of the page.

He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a smooth hum. “A story of fallen angels and regret… of defiance and consequence. Tell me, my dear, which part resonates with you the most?”

Y/N met his gaze without hesitation. “All literature is meant to be studied, not projected onto oneself.”

“Ohh, how very proper,” he drawled, straightening up. “But, if I may be so bold, it’s quite curious that you of all beings have taken residence in this charming little establishment. A rare sight, indeed.”

She closed the book gently. “I am here to observe. Heaven seems to now believe that redemption is possible.”

“Mm, so I’ve heard.” Alastor’s grin never wavered, but his eyes glowed just a little brighter. “And yet, some might wonder if there’s more to your little visit than simple observation.”

She remained composed. “Are you one of those people, Alastor?”

His laughter was sudden, abrupt, and almost musical, the static of his voice flickering through the air. “Oh, darling, I do love a good mystery! But far be it from me to pry where I am not wanted.”

She said nothing.

He tapped his cane against the floor lightly. “Still, you must admit, it’s quite entertaining. One day, you and our dear majesty are at each other’s throats, and now…” He leaned in slightly, voice playful but edged. “Tea and chess? Oh, how the tides turn.”

Y/N did not react beyond a slow blink. “I fail to see how that is of any concern to you.”

Alastor chuckled. “Oh, it isn’t! Not at all!” He straightened, flashing a wide grin. “But you know how it is in this hotel, people talk. And I do so love a good story.”

She regarded him for a long moment before simply replying, “Stories are only as valuable as the truth within them.”

His grin twitched, but his amusement remained. “Oh, my dear, what a delicious sentiment.”

For a moment, silence settled between them, stretching thin but unbroken.

Then, Alastor let out a hum, stepping back. “Well, I shan’t keep you from your book,” he mused, voice dripping with faux innocence. “Do enjoy your reading, won’t you?”

Y/N gave him a small nod. “I intend to.”

With that, Alastor turned on his heel, his humming fading into static as he disappeared into the depths of the library.

Y/N watched until he was gone, then exhaled quietly.

She reopened Paradise Lost and resumed reading.

Alastor’s words lingered.

The Hazbin Hotel was silent.

For once, the halls weren’t filled with raucous laughter, distant explosions, or Angel Dust’s theatrical complaints. The residents had all retired for the night, leaving the building in an eerie calm that was rare in Hell.

On the rooftop, the world felt even quieter. The sky stretched endlessly above, an inky abyss speckled with crimson stars that pulsed faintly, a twisted mockery of the heavens Angeline once called home. The air was cool, not quite the divine crispness of Heaven, nor the suffocating heat of the deeper pits of Hell. It was… still.

Angeline stood near the edge, arms resting lightly on the railing as she gazed at the sky.

Behind her, the door creaked open.

Lucifer stepped onto the rooftop, his usual swagger subdued. He wasn’t in his full regalia tonight, no grand suit, no extravagant accessories. Just a loose button-down, sleeves rolled up, collar undone. He looked less like the King of Hell and more like… someone who had once been something else.

He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he walked beside her, mirroring her stance, leaning against the railing. A gentle breeze brushed past them, ruffling his hair slightly.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

Y/N exhaled slowly. “No.”

Lucifer nodded, watching the flickering stars. “This place has a way of making the night feel heavier, doesn’t it?”

She glanced at him. “Does it weigh on you?”

His lips quirked in a small, humorless smile. “Only when I let it.”

A quiet moment passed.

Then, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been meaning to ask… Why did you come up here? To Hell.”

Y/N didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she looked down at the city below, the red glow of the streets casting long shadows. “You already know the answer,” she said finally.

“To observe the hotel,” he mused. “Because Heaven now believes redemption is possible for sinners.” he said it with a hint of doubt in his voice.

She nodded. “That was the purpose I was given.”

Lucifer was silent for a moment before he let out a soft chuckle. “And yet, here you are, playing chess with me and reading Paradise Lost in my library.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly. “Are you suggesting I have been… distracted?”

He smirked, but there was no malice in it. “Perhaps.”

She considered that for a moment. Then, after a pause, she admitted, “Perhaps I am also here to understand.”

Lucifer turned his head slightly, looking at her in quiet curiosity.

She continued, “There is much that is… simplified in Heaven. What is good, what is evil. What is just, what is wicked. And yet…” Her fingers curled slightly against the railing. “The world is not so simple, is it?”

His smirk faded, replaced by something more thoughtful. “No. It never has been.”

She glanced at him again. “You were once the highest among us. The brightest.”

Lucifer let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “Flattery, Y/N? How unlike you.”

She didn’t react to the teasing. “I knew you. Before.”

His red eyes met hers, something flickering within them, something old. Something worn.

“…And now?” he asked.

Y/N studied him for a long moment. “And now, you are still Lucifer.”

He let out a soft, dry laugh. “How diplomatic.”

A pause.

Then, more quietly, he added, “I sometimes wonder how you saw me back then.”

Y/N hesitated, then spoke honestly. “I saw you as you were. The Morningstar. Resplendent. Fearless. Stubborn.” She exhaled, voice softer. “You were our leader. You were my friend. And then, you were gone.”

Lucifer didn’t respond right away. He simply stared at the horizon, eyes lost in some distant memory.

“…Would you have followed me?” he asked at last, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s fingers tightened against the railing.

“…I don’t know.”

It was the truth. And the weight of it hung between them, fragile but real.

Lucifer chuckled again, but it was hollow. “A fair answer.”

Another pause.

Then, Y/N asked, “Do you regret it?”

Lucifer closed his eyes for a brief moment. Then, he smiled, small, tired.

“No,” he said. Then, after a beat, “But I do wonder.”

Y/N nodded, as if she understood.

The wind picked up slightly, rustling the fabric of her robes, tousling Lucifer’s hair.

After a long moment, he spoke again. “Are you still going to judge this place?”

She exhaled. “I am still meant to observe.”

Lucifer smirked. “And yet, you’re already forming your own conclusions, aren’t you?”

Y/N gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Perhaps.”

Lucifer chuckled, shaking his head. “Careful, Y/N. If you stay here too long, you might start seeing things the way I do.”

She turned her gaze back to the sky, her voice calm. “Or perhaps you are simply afraid I will see things as they are.”

Lucifer blinked, then let out a low laugh. “Touché.”

They fell into silence again, but this time, it wasn’t heavy. It was… peaceful.

Eventually, Y/N straightened. “I should return inside.”

Lucifer smirked, but there was a softness to it. “Don’t let me keep you.”

She nodded, turning toward the door. But before she left, she hesitated for just a moment.

Then, without looking back, she said, “Goodnight, Lucifer.”

Lucifer’s gaze lingered on her as she walked away. Then, he turned back to the sky.

“…Goodnight, Y/N.”

don't worry, im gonna be writing about how much these two want each real soon

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy