#playing the 'i want to be him or i want him?' game is not so fun anymore

[greengoblinswifey]

Boss’ Obsession—Player 001/Hwang In Ho x Fem!Reader

summary— Young-il’s obsession with you reaches its peak and he takes you in the bathroom in the middle of the night. Based on this request.

warnings— praise kink, Somnophilia, Voyeurism, male masturbation?, oral(f!receiving), choking, mirror play, unprotected sex, creampie.

The poorly lit quarters was silent except for the soft snores and occasional murmurs of the others. The toll the games took was felt even in sleep, but Young-il’s mind was far from the anxiety of the competition. His dark eyes remained locked on you, his body leaning against the cold wall as you lay a few feet away, curled on your side, breathing softly.

He couldn’t stop himself, he never could. Since the moment he first saw you, you’d been a constant pull, something he couldn’t explain but didn’t bother questioning. You were his obsession. And now, in the quiet of the night, his infatuation consumed him.

A low moan rumbled in his chest as he shifted against the wall, his hand drifting lower. His palm pressed against his hard cock through his pants, seeking some relief as his eyes remained glued to you. He moved slowly, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to muffle any sound. The way your lips parted in sleep, the outline of your body under the thin blanket—it was too much.

But before he could finish, he clenched his jaw and stopped himself. Not like this. Not without you.

Getting up, he crossed the space quietly, crouching beside you. His fingers brushed your shoulder, a gentle nudge. “Wake up,” he whispered, his voice husky and low, “Come with me.”

“Young-il?” you murmured, voice heavy with sleep.

“Shh,” he said, helping you up. “We need to talk. Just come.”

Though confusion flickered across your face, you nodded, trusting him. He guided you toward the huge door, the guards barely sparing a glance as he led you out. You were so confused but your groggy state prevented you from even questioning it.

Once in the bathroom, he locked the door behind you both, the sound of the latch clicking echoing in the small space. You turned to him, still half-asleep but now more aware of something in his gaze.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice soft.

“You,” he said simply, stepping closer. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Fuck, not even for a second.”

Your breath hitched as he crowded into your space, his hands finding your waist.

“Young-il.”

“I mean it,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, “You’re all I see. All I want.”

You tilted your head, your lips brushing his, and that was all it took. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flat against him as his lips claimed yours. The kiss was fierce, needy, a testament to the obsession he had with you.

His hands roamed, finding the hem of your shirt and sliding beneath to grope your tits. You gasped against his lips, your fingers threading through his dark hair as he pressed you against the sink.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, his lips trailing down your neck. “Say it.”

“I— I’m yours,” you whispered, your nails digging into his shoulders as his kisses grew rougher, more desperate.

“Good girl,” he murmured, lifting you onto the edge of the sink as the room filled with nothing but the sound of your labored breaths.

Young-il’s hands trembled slightly as they gripped your waist. He had every intention of taking his time with you, savoring every moment, but the way you looked at him, slightly innocent, yet full of that same unrelenting desire he felt, had him weak.

His lips crashed against yours again, his control slipping. “I wanted to be patient,” he murmured between kisses, his voice rough and low. “I really did. But I can’t, not tonight.”

You barely had a moment to respond before his hands were on the waistband of your pants, tugging them down with one swift motion. The sound of fabric tearing filled the small space as he discarded your underwear with little care. Your breath hitched, both in surprise and need.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his dark eyes devouring every inch of you. He sank to his knees, his hands sliding up your thighs as he pushed them apart. His touch was firm, possessive, and it sent a shiver up your spine.

“Young-il,” you whispered, your fingers finding their way into his hair.

“I’m going to make you feel so good. You won’t think about anything else but me.” he said, looking up at you.

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you, his tongue moving with purpose and precision. The pleasure was overwhelming, his lips and tongue working as if he was starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy his primal hunger. You bit down on your lip, trying desperately to keep quiet, but it was impossible. A soft moan escaped, and his eyes flicked up to meet yours, full of satisfaction and determination.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your pussy. “Don’t hold those moans. I want to hear you.”

Your hands tightened in his hair as he ravished your wetness, his pace relentless. The heat building inside you was unbearable, your breaths coming faster and more uneven. His grip on your thighs tightened, his thumb caressing your clit as his tongue slipped inside your hole.

“You taste so good,” he said between licks, his voice laced with desire. “You’re so perfect, all mine.”

The praise sent you over the edge. With a sharp gasp, your body tensed, and then the wave of release hit you, leaving you trembling, breathless and creaming.

Young-il didn’t stop until you were shuddering against his tongue, completely worn out. When he finally stood, his lips were swollen, and his smirk was self-satisfied. “Told you,” he said, brushing a strand of your curls from your face. “You’d forget everything but me.”

“Cocky much?” you said as you let out a shaky laugh, still catching your breath.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Only when it comes to you angel.”

You were still swooning from the intensity of how he ate you out but his hands on your hips told you he wasn’t finished. “I can’t wait anymore,” he murmured. His lips crashed onto yours as his fingers worked quickly, freeing his thick cock from his pants. Your eyes widened as he positioned himself between your legs, his size making your breath hitch.

“Y-you’re—” you started, but he smirked, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“You’ll take my cock, won’t you?” he whispered, his tone teasing. “I’ll take care of you, I promise angel.”

Your nod was all the answer he needed. His hands gripped your thighs, positioning you onto the counter as he guided himself into your dripping pussy. The stretch was burning, almost overwhelming, and your fingers clawed at his shoulders.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned, pausing to let you adjust. “You feel so so good, better than I ever imagined.”

The pace he set was anything but slow. He thrusted into you with a raw, desperate need, his lips tracing your jawline before finding your neck. His praises spilled out in rough whispers, his hands keeping you steady as his cock slammed into you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re taking me so well. Just like that baby. Your pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

Your hands gripped the edge of the counter as waves of pleasure coursed through you. He tilted your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. “Cum for me,” he commanded, “I want to feel your pussy drench my cock.”

With a cry, you gave in, your pussy quivering against his cock. His name spilled from your lips as he buried his face in your neck, kissing you to ground you in the moment. Though, he wasn’t finished.

“Oh no angel,” he said with a smirk, pulling back slightly to look at you, “We’re not done yet.”

Before you could catch your breath, he turned you around, pressing your front against the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, fucked out and dazed, as he positioned himself to take you from behind.

“You look so good like this,” he whispered, his hand sliding up to rest lightly around your throat. His lips found the sensitive spot below your ear, trailing kisses down your neck as he started slamming into you.

Your fingers clutched the sink for support as his pace quickened, the roughness of it all leaving you breathless. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured. “So perfect for me. Look at yourself, see how good you’re taking my cock.”

The combination of his words, his hand around your throat, his cock slamming into you making your ass recoil, and your reflection in the mirror was too much. Your body tensed as you neared your end again, and he sensed it.

“Cum on my cock,” he urged, his hand tightening around your neck. “Come on angel, I’ve got you. Cum, now.”

And you obeyed. Your orgasm hit you harder this time, leaving you gasping as he followed right behind, moaning your name like a prayer, his cum filling you to the brim.

Young-il pressed a kiss to your shoulder before gently pulling you back against his chest. “That’s my good girl,” he whispered.

As he cleaned you up with surprising tenderness, you blinked at him, still dazed. “How—how did the guards even let us in here?” you asked, voice tired.

“Don’t worry about that angel.” His grin was smug, but his touch was soft as he helped you straighten your clothes.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the confusion and questions swirling your mind as he led you out of the bathroom, his hand warm and protective around yours, your legs wobbly.

[sevenangrybees]

I really should write a fic about it. I have so many headcanons and fan dungeons; Icelandic Atlantis dungeon, The Oubliette, Labyrinth dungeon where the demon acts like David Bowie, and (always sunny theme) "Mithrun takes the gang cave diving." which includes Otta getting cockblocked from the hot halfling scuba instructor and the consequences of everyone forgetting to keep reminding Mithrun to equalize his ears when they hurt.

I'm of the opinion that Flamela was Mithrun's second for his first dungeon back, but the party nearly wiped during the dungeon lord fight (half the party died including flamela, Mithrun collapsed from mana depletion, and the last one standing smartly gave him a rapid mana transfer before resurrecting anyone else. That was when the Canaries learned they had to make sure to check his mana reserves before a big fight), and afterwards she was made deputy with her own squad and only sent to baby dungeons and ancient magic investigations.

She has NEVER forgiven Mithrun for that, she got ONE TASTE of everything she wanted and now her job is mostly fucking paperwork!

elf drama i just made up

[bachissidehoe]

in which you're Reo's princess, and Nagi's his treasure. (w.c. 1049)

At first, you found it strange the way Nagi Seishiro would so casually throw his arm around your shoulder and hold you close to his chest. You were Reo’s girlfriend, after all. The girlfriend of his best friend.

“What are you playing?”

He sighed. “It would be a hassle to explain. You can watch though.”

And you did. You sat next to him on the couch, forcing your gaze past his toned muscles and shaggy, tangled hair to watch his little mobile game.

“Come here. It’s hard to play when you’re leaning on my arm.”

And he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side so he could access his screen better. Apparently, this position made him more mobile.

You were flushed. You didn’t think something like this would be allowed. You were nestled into the gorgeous, soft body of your boyfriend’s best friend.

“Oh cute! My princess and my treasure.”

That’s all Reo had said when he saw you. It surprised you, to say the least.

But it’s not like you were complaining. Where lying on Reo’s chest was warm, Nagi’s was cool. Where Reo was obvious with his praise, Nagi was nonchalant. You found yourself wanting the affection of both of them, in a weird way.

And it started to be less surprising when Nagi asked to hold you. In fact, you started to hope he would.

“Your thighs are soft, like pillows. I need a nap.”

And Nagi collapsed, right there on your thighs, letting his eyes flutter shut. So calm.

“Aren’t they?” Reo agreed from the opposite couch, encouraging the physicality.

What the two didn’t notice was how you shifted in your seat, affected by the warm breaths that dusted your inner thighs. It wouldn’t be comfortable for the snowy haired boy to sleep in a puddle, so you held on for dear life, your hands clenched around the fabric of the couch rather than tangled in his messy hair.

You hadn’t realized the effect Nagi Seishiro really had on you. How his subtle, casual affection had trained you to become a secret mess for him. For your boyfriend’s best friend.

But Reo- your smart, charismatic, beautiful boyfriend- he had realized. In fact, he’d been encouraging this for a reason.

“You’re bothered, aren’t you princess?”

For a moment you thought you may be in trouble. It’s wrong to get turned on by your boyfriend’s best friend. But the look on Reo’s face, the devious smirk, said otherwise.

So you nodded.

“How cute.” He moved to hover over you, Nagi still restful on your thighs. “My princess and my treasure get along so well.”

It became pretty obvious what your boyfriend wanted after that. You just didn't realize how you didn't notice it before. The way he looked at Nagi. The way he encouraged you two. He wanted Nagi just as badly as you did.

The burning growing between your thighs wasn't enough for just Reo to satisfy anymore. And he knew that.

"Princess, hm? That what you want me to call her too, Reo?" Nagi mumbled, his groggy eyes opening just enough to look up at your flushed face.

"You should." Reo pulled Nagi upward by his shirt, removing him from the comfortable spot he created on your thighs.

Nagi complained the whole way up, of course, he was never one to enjoy being forced out of a cozy position.

"You should also let her ride you." Reo smirked, bringing Nagi's face close to his, nearly touching his lips.

You gulped.

But Nagi Seishiro was less than nervous, the nonchalant type of person he was. He only glanced back at you, not struggling at all under your boyfriend's tight hold on his shirt.

"Yeah fine." Nagi agreed.

It was hard for you to tell whether Nagi really wanted to fuck you, whether he was interested in you at all or if he wanted to shut Reo up. But as it turned out, Nagi Seishiro was stubborn and ruthless. He wanted you just as badly, his cock constantly straining against his shorts whenever you were close to him, wanting any excuse to stuff his face into your pretty thighs. But he'd never admit it.

Not until you were bouncing on his thick cock, mouth hung open and hands relentlessly tugging on his hair. Right there on that couch. With your wet cunt soaking him, your movements squeezing juices into a messy coating for Nagi's bare thighs.

That's when Nagi Seishiro decided to be honest. "Fuck, I needed you. Fuck~ yes I need~ ah-"

And Reo couldn't have been happier about the beautiful scene he created. "You don't mind, hm? Can't expect me to just watch." He lined up behind you, letting his familiar, flushed tip plunge into the depths of your unused hole, forcing you to lean forward onto Nagi's chest.

"I'll get ya both off. Fuck~" Reo spat, his thrusts creating the friction both you and Nagi so desperately craved, your heavy breaths mixing into each other in the small space between you.

And you kissed him, because you couldn't help it. Your sloppy, drooly lips pressed to Nagi's in a desperate display of hunger.

As it turned out, Reo had been thinking about this for a long time. Longer than you had. Longer than the stubborn Nagi Seishiro had.

He rocked his hips in perfect rhythm, your cunt sliding and squeezing around Nagi's perfect cock while your ass was lubed and stuffed by your pretty boyfriend.

Reo was right about getting you both off, too. It took him practically no time, with your clit rubbing against Nagi's skin and the friction forcing Nagi's tip into your g-spot over and over again, it wasn't difficult. But that didn't matter to Reo, he never specified how many times he expected to get you two off. And it became clear very quickly that once wasn't enough for him.

He'd been holding back his desires for too long, he deserved to see you shaking, tears streaming down your face, cum dripping from all your holes. He deserved to see Nagi fucked out, hair sticking to his forehead, arms wrapped around you and lips attached to your bruised neck.

Your boyfriend deserved that much. After how long you made him wait to fuck his princess and his treasure.

[ventismacchiato]

OIKAWA AS YOUR MUTUAL THAT YOU HATE IRL

oikawa x gender neutral reader

you and toru have been mutuals on twitter for almost a year as you both run and met through twice fan accounts. you talk to him more than your irl friends atp. on the other hand you and oikawa don’t get along irl, as you’re both on opposing college teams and constantly competing for nationals. since then he’s always picked on you at games, but that all changes when you finally decide to meet your favorite oomf in person.

notes — karasuno is a mixed gender team in this to keep it gn, and instead of highschool these are college teams / the messages in the first section are like throughout the week before you two meet up

ooc idk? it’s been a while. assume everyone is 20ish, i cud make this a cute mini au one day but rn i’m lazy so this is fast paced

also here’s the soobin version i wrote a while ago

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Your stomach was swarming with nerves as you made your way inside the cafe, the scent of freshly made coffee and sweaty college students from the stadium surrounding you as you slid into line. Admittedly, you never thought you'd get the chance to meet Toru, he was just your cute internet friend and nothing would ever happen.

That was, until today.

It was a bit embarrassing that you stared at the selfie he'd sent for longer than you should've. It was difficult to comprehend the boy you'd been talking to for so long was hiding such a pretty figure. Even with the emoji hiding his face you could tell he was cute.

You eye the display of cakes and decide to pick one up for the both of you as Toru had already promised to get you guys coffee. You felt bad going empty handed after finally meeting him.

You reach down to grab onto the last chocolate slice and your hands meet another. Usually, you'd let it slide and choose something else even though you touched it first. But, when you looked to your left and locked eyes with your self-proclaimed enemy, Toru Oikawa, those thoughts washed away. You were going to fight for that slice of mediocre cake.

"Not you again," Oikawa sighed, tugging the slice towards him, "Don't be obnoxious."

"Says you," you scoff, tightly grabbing onto the plate, "Why are you always so rude towards me? Is it because we annihilated you in the game?”

"You were just lucky," He grins, his large hands tugging the cake closer towards him, "Choose something else.”

"You choose something else. Losers don’t deserve nice cake! I got to it first!”

"Ok and?" Oikawa questions, like the little shit he is.

"Fine, just take it," you sigh, not wanting to make Toru wait. Good Toru, not this evil one beside you. But as you let go of the cake and step back you notice Oikawa’s outfit. He was adorned in clothes that oddly resembled the photo Toru had sent you.

"You made me lose my appetite," Oikawa mutters, dropping the cake and shuffling past you. You shake off the familiarity and make your way towards the back. Most men wore the same clothes, it was nothing.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You eye the walls of the cafe until you come across the wooden tables from the photo.

You start scouring the seats for someone that resembled Toru but the only person in your vicinity was Oikawa.

You inch your way closer towards him with morbid curiosity, hoping that your suspicions would be proved wrong. But as you got closer the drinks on the table and location of your rival were too similar to the photo Toru had sent you.

Unfortunately, Oikawa locked eyes with you.

"What do you want? Are you here to apologize?" he questions, playing with the straw of his drink as he barely gave you a glance.

"Toru? From twitter?" you tentatively ask, your voice hoarse from the nerves. This couldn't be happening.

Oikawa pauses.

"What?" he slowly asks, turning to look at you, "What did you call me?"

"Oh my god," you gasp, "Are you ruluvyeon?"

"What..," he starts, catching on, "You're urmomoyn?"

Your username sounds foreign on his tongue but it was him. Oikawa was your Toru. Evil Toru was your sweet Toru.

Your beloved Toru was the same guy you've been on bad terms with all year. Just your luck.

Before Oikawa could comprehend anything or you could answer, you decide to do the most mature thing anyone would do in that situation.

You run.

And he doesn't follow.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

a week later

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The street was dark apart from the flickering lamps on the side of the walkway as you made your way towards Oikawa - or well Toru’s - house. It still felt odd.

Your palms felt clammy and you were clad in your pajamas, in too much of a rush to change. Which was a decision you were regretting since the flimsy fabric did nothing to protect you against the wind.

Before you knew it you spotted the complex Toru supposedly lived in, and as you walked closer you could see his tall figure waiting for you in the dark. It would've been rather creepy if not for the fact he was drowning in a large hoodie and sweats with a beanie tugged on his hair.

His arms were crossed across his chest as he rocked back and forth due to the cold.

You swallowed your nerves and made your way towards him, not quite knowing what to do with your hands other than give him an awkward wave as he spotted you.

"Hey," he breathed out, gesturing for you to follow him inside.

The warmth of his apartment was far more welcoming than the freezing night. He shut the door behind you both and tugged off his beanie as he gestured for you to sit down.

"Hi," you greeted back as you sank down on his couch. The entire place felt very lived in.

Toru’s face scrunched up into an sly smile.

"I missed you," you added, "I'm glad you reached out."

"I am too," he hummed, reaching out to take his hand into yours. His palms felt warm against your own freezing ones.

"What was your last text about?" you question as his thumb rubs circles on your palm.

"I don't know what you’re talking about?" he smiles, "What did I say?"

"You know damn well what you said," you huff.

"Okay, well I meant it," he answers, "I convinced myself to try and forget you since you were an online friend. But having you right in front of me changed things."

"Changed things how?" you say, warmth creeping up your cheeks.

"Well, for one I can actually see you," Oikawa notes, "And do things like this," he adds, his voice going quiet as he reaches over to push a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "And, instead of fantasizing about kissing you, I could actually do it."

"You fantasized about it?" you ask in disbelief, still flustered at the touch of his hand so close to your face "You didn't even know what I looked like!"

"You were kinda just a blob in my mind," he shrugs, a smile tilting his lips at your offended face.

"A cute blob though, right?”

"Of course."

“You never imagined me as my icon?”

“Only when you changed it to Gojo.”

“Oh fuck off,” you laugh.

"So, you really don't hate me?" you muse, playing with his fingers, "It's so weird seeing you be so gentle."

"Would you rather me go back to being rude?" he replies, "But I really don't. I feel a shitty at how I used to treat you. You just get me riled up.”

"It's okay, I did the same," you assure, patting his hand, "Let's start fresh."

"Okay," he agrees, clasping your hand in between his, "Let's go out."

"Straight to the point?"

"I don't think we should waste any more time," he replies, “And my entire team thinks I made you up.”

“I need to make it up to you,” you sigh.

"Kiss me and consider yourself forgiven," Oikawa easily grins, looking at you with the usual look of arrogance he sends you through the net when he wishes you a terrible game. But this time it looks different. Like he wants you to win.

“Alright,” you manage to croak out, your throat closing up at your false confidence.

Honestly, you were qute irritated with yourself on how you treated Oikawa for the past few months. You desperately wanted to move on and start fresh.

Oikawa let out a surprised laugh and you wanted to ingrain the sound into your mind. He brought up his free palm to his mouth and let out a small giggle into it.

“Go ahead then,” he smiles.

"Okay," you manage to say, taking a deep breath.

"Any day now,” Oikawa smirks.

"Shut up, I need a moment-," you started, but were interrupted as he reached over and yanked on your top to slot his lips against yours. He stumbled and you both fell backwards onto the couch as he caught himself above you, both knees outside your hips as you snaked your hands around his waist.

He stared at your for a mere moment in disbelief before leaning down to capture your lips with his. His lips felt pillowy against your own and his warm body right on top of yours made it feel just as good.

You had to remind yourself not to laugh into the kiss.

[dear-aubade]

Kisses After Midnight

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Smut

Summary: Joel gets back from a long patrol in the middle of the night. It’s clear that his baby missed him very much.

Notes: smut, sub!reader, soft!dom!joel, praise, dirty talk, unprotected piv, Joel calls reader every pet name in the book, teasing, slight orgasm denial, dd/lg vibes sorta (but no use of ‘daddy’), let’s play a game called how many times can the author use the word ‘sweet’ in one fic

For it being the end of the world, you and Joel had a pretty good life. He’d been in Jackson for about eight months—eight months in which he gave his heart to the sweetest little thing to ever walk the earth.

Your very existence seemed to be a mockery of the times you lived in. You were soft and sweet, edges not yet roughed. He didn’t know how you’d gone so long staying as doe-eyed as you did—hell, he didn’t know how you ended up with him. He felt far too…jaded. Far too rough to be with someone so beautiful and untainted.

And yet, you were drawn to him. He still remembered the first day you knocked on his door, asking in your honey-sweet voice, I told Maria I’d give you a tour of the town. Is that alright, Mr. Miller? Oh, he’d just about died then.

Things only took off from there. Something would break in your house, and he’d be called over to fix it. Then you would bring him some bread you baked as a thank you, and then he’d say, Well this is too nice, darlin.’ Why don’t you let me return the favor by putting some shelves up in your living room? He’d seen the piles of books at your bedside—your love of reading deserved to be displayed.

Somewhere along the way, you and Joel just…fit. Something clicked, and soon he was moving into your pretty little house, placing kisses to your pretty little lips, waking up pressed against pretty little you.

Yes, for the end of the world, you and Joel were doing quite nicely.

Except on long patrol days, that is. Oh, Joel knew how much you hated it. Now that you’d gotten used to sleeping in Joel’s arms you didn’t want to give it up, not even for a single night.

But Joel had a part to play in the community—he couldn’t stop working, no matter how much he wished he could spend all his time with you. He’d press kisses to your quivering bottom lip, murmuring reassurances that he would be back the very next night.

Which brought him to now. He’d spent a day and a half out in the cold with Tommy scanning for Clickers, thinking about his princess the entire time ice and wind battered his face. Finally, after a day and a half without seeing you, he was shaking the snow off his jacket and stepping inside your shared home.

Joel was quiet as he took off his shoes and shed his outer layers before heading upstairs. Once inside your room he stripped down to his cotton t-shirt and boxers, then slid under the covers beside you. He wrapped his large arm around your body, pulling you into him and was delighted to find you were wearing nothing but one of his shirts. He nuzzled the top of your head with his nose, then placed a kiss in your hair. “Hey there, sleepyhead.”

You let out a soft yawn, still groggy and half-asleep. “Hm?”

He chuckled lightly and kissed your cheek. “Wake up, pretty baby.” Normally Joel would never wake you up in the middle of the night, but you had explicitly asked him to do so every time he got back from a long patrol. He still remembered your teary eyes the morning after the one time he’d tried to let you sleep and just greet you in the morning. He’d never tried again after that.

Now you began to really stir, blinking your eyes as you looked up at him with a soft, sleepy pout that he wanted to kiss. However, it melted away when your eyes grew a little more alert. “Joel?”

He brushed the hair from your face. “Mhmm. I’m home,” he whispered before kissing you soundly on the mouth. He pulled away just slightly, eyes dancing over your face. “I missed my gorgeous girl’s eyes…and those lips, especially.”

You leaned up to plant another firm kiss to his mouth before holding to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, letting out a soft breath of something almost like relief.

He kept you pressed to the warmth of his body, “Was my little girl lonely ‘round here?” he murmured, rubbing your back gently.

You nodded into his neck. “Missed you.”

He chuckled, kissing your neck, holding you close. “I’m right here now.” His sweet thing. His nose brushed along your jaw and neck, taking in your scent. “Let me ease that pretty little mind a bit, hm?”

Your breath hitched and you nodded, eyes getting a little more glossy…

“C’mere, babygirl…” he whispered, cradling the back of your head to pull your lips to his. Joel’s hands roamed over the curves of your body, mapping out each and every familiar piece of you, his palms warm and strong against your skin. He nibbled at your bottom lip until you parted your mouth in a gasp to allow his tongue to slip inside.

Joel soon broke the kiss, panting softly before he started trailing his lips down your throat and collarbone, nibbling and sucking as he went. “Missed that pretty little voice,” he murmured in that low voice of his. “Can you use it again for me sweetheart?” Joel knew how you got when he spoke to you like this. He knew you would be putty beneath him in no time.

You nodded, letting out a strained, “Mhmm.”

Joel pressed your back to the mattress so you were looking up at him. “Use your words, babygirl,” he reminded, dipping to kiss up your throat again. “Or do I need to make you?” His teeth caught on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

You gasped. “I-I can use ‘em.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, pulling away to look at your face, studying your expression. His fingertips brushed the edge of your neckline. “Can I take all this off, baby?”

You nodded, eyes big and wide. “Yes Joel, please.”

He let out a short, breathy chuckle. “So polite.” With that he got to work, pulling the shirt over your head with one swift tug, leaving you bare beneath him. He looked you over greedily, tracing his hands over your sides, squeezing your thighs, making you squirm. “Oh, sweetheart,” he groaned, eyes falling over your body. “Look at my sweet baby.”

You let out a soft whine of impatience, but Joel cut you off. “Ah—you gonna be a good girl?” He knew you would be. You always were. He just liked hearing it from your strawberry lips.

You nodded, eyes doe-like. “Yes, promise!”

He smiled. “Always listen so well for me.” He sat up a little to remove his own shirt and throw it to the floor, but swiftly leaned back down to kiss you deeply. You tasted like honey on his tongue and his hands slipped along your sides to rest on your hips, locking you in place.

You uselessly tried to buck against his strong hold, trying to press the apex of your thighs closer to his, but he was having none of it. He chuckled. “Needy girl…always gotta have me ‘s close as possible, hm? So greedy, baby.” His sentence was punctuated by a nip to your neck.

“Jus’ missed you.”

“I know darlin’, I know.” Such a soft, sweet voice you had. He met your big, glassy eyes as his fingertips dragged along your neck….your collarbone…until he grasped one of your breasts with his large hand.

He silenced your gasp with his kisses. His sweet girl—so sensitive, you were. You whimpered into his mouth as he brushed his thumb over the peak of your breast.

How had he been apart from you so long?

You were aching. Joel always likes taking his time with you, you knew that, but sometimes all you wanted him to do was pin you down and ravish you instead of playing you like his favorite instrument, stringing his fingers along each little spot that would make you sing….

Joel’s warm mouth closed around your breast and you let out another soft whimper as he flicked his tongue over the peak. Your hands were in his hair, threading through the salt-and-pepper curls while his tongue and teeth were at work.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Joel,” you whined, voice quivering.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’m gonna give you what you need.” His fingertips dragged down the center of your tummy, drifting farther and farther below…

“Oh,” Joel cooed, and you moaned softly as his fingers dipped into your wetness. “You’re so ready for me, sweetheart.”

You felt like you could cry from the need, the white hot flames that needed to be fanned and then extinguished. “Joel—”

“I’ll take care of you, darlin’. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

His thumb found purchase on your bundle of nerves and you keened, arching your back, trying to get closer closer closer while he stoked the fire between your legs. He held you the whole time, murmuring how beautiful you were, how pretty your little voice was, how good you were being for him.

You could feel yourself slowly unraveling; the thread of your very being was fraying, coming apart as you climbed higher, higher—

He removed his hand.

Oh, you whined at that, your climax being ripped away so cruelly and carelessly. “No, no, Joel I—”

“Shh, shh baby.” He quieted your protests with a kiss. “I just had to get you ready for me—want you to finish around my cock.”

His bluntness made you squirm, and you’d been so lost in your pleasure that you hadn’t realized you could feel his hardness against your hip, thick and heavy.

Joel shucked down his boxers and tossed them to the side while you lay there waiting, aching for that fullness you knew so well—

You squealed as he tapped the wet tip of his length against the bud atop your slit.

He chuckled and silenced your high-pitched noises with gentle shushing. “I gotcha, honey,” he murmured.

Then he slid inside.

Joel let out a soft groan next to your ear as he fully sheathed himself within your wetness. “So tight for me baby—“ He cut off with another grunt, sliding out before pushing right back in.

He was so big, his strong arms holding you as he rocked his hips, filling you up, up, up until you swear you could feel him in your tummy. Your walls clenched against him, breath hitching with every thrust.

“My baby,” he crooned, ducking his head to kiss along your neck and shower you with praises as he held you to him. “My sweet babygirl. Missed you so much out on the trail, thought about your pretty little pussy the whole time—”

Your head fell back with a gasp as the tip of Joel’s hardness tickled that spot deep inside that had your toes curling.

He chuckled. “Is that the spot, baby?” He pointedly thrust again, making you moan, and grinned knowingly. “Oh, I think it is, hm?” He picked up his pace again, hitting that spot over and over and over.

You felt something start to coil in your lower belly, something familiar and white-hot. Joel reached down to rub circles into your clit, which made you let out a high-pitched whimper and clench around his length.

You were babbling mindlessly, thoughts empty save for him and how good he was making you feel. “Joel, Joel, I—oh please—I need—”

“I know what you need babygirl.” His teeth caught on your earlobe as he kept his pace. “Can feel—fuck—can feel you clamping down on me. You gonna finish for me already?”

You nodded, your lips parted in a silent gasp of need, eyes big and wide as you whined out a desperate, “Mhmm!”

You bucked your hips into his, and this time when you felt your legs tighten, your breath fail, your tummy coil, Joel murmured hushed affirmatives you your jaw and neck and ear—

You cried out as you fell over the edge. Your back arched, your muscles seized, and your vision blurred with overwhelmed tears as you felt the warmth of Joel finishing inside you soon after.

“That’s it sweetie—fuck, so good for me, such a good girl falling apart on my cock, taking me so well—”

You were letting out desperate needy noises, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as the crackling heat lingered.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, claiming your lips, swallowing your whines with his mouth. “You did so good baby, so good….look at you, my pretty girl, my baby….”

Your body went lax, melting against him, each coo and murmur bringing you deeper under.

“That’s it…I’ve gotcha…” Joel maneuvered you as if you were light as a feather so that you were laying side by side, still connected, him still thick and warm inside of you.

Completely blissed out, you nuzzled into his chest, relishing in the feeling of his strong arms around you. Your eyes drooped.

“Tired already, babygirl?”

“Mmm.”

Joel hummed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s okay, darlin’. Just fall back to sleep. I’ll be holdin’ you the whole night through.”

Soon the fog overtook your mind completely and you drifted off, comforted by the knowledge that your Joel was home again.

[pacofprunes]

cotton candy grapes

thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)

warnings — very short drabble, reader has pink hair, noncon kissing, biting that draws blood, choking, subtle threatening, drug use

by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+

somehow, he hadn’t noticed you in the first game. you’d think the only other person there with dyed hair, that was pink, would immediately get his attention. but he didn’t notice until after the games when it was time to vote, you smacking that red X. he only saw your hair though, he wanted to see your face. he knew you had to be stunning.

the voting ends and he sees you on the other side sitting on your bed with your face in your hands. he gets up to go over to you.

“where are you going?”

nam-gyu his lap dog. he sits up out of his bed to see what his owners doing.

“none of your business.”

he walks away towards you, nam-gyu watching the whole time. on the way there he pops a pill in his mouth.

“hello señorita.”

you look up and he’s stunned. god you were beautiful. he whistles at you.

“what’dya say you join me and my team over there beautiful?”

he points to the other side where you see a group of people.

“uh, no thank you.”

“come on babe don’t be so difficult. you’re over here all alone, you need alliances. and i, thanos, the greatest rapper there has ever been, is a great ally.”

you pause and think. it would be nice to have allies in a shit hole like this. but then you think back to the first game. right in front of you, a whole row of people fall forward and get shot. it wasn’t from somebody tripping. no. it’s because this guy who says his name is thanos pushed them. you’re pulled out of your thoughts and look him in the eyes.

“you killed all those people.“

he looks at you with a shocked sarcastic smile.

“did i?”

“yes. yes you did. the first game, you pushed them all. no i don’t wanna fucking be on your team are you crazy?”

he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes it back slightly before you slap his hand away.

“come on señorita, money is money! you didn’t know those people and neither did i!”

he laughs, sick. he leans forward closer to your face and then moves over to your ear.

“plus, you don’t wanna know what’ll happen if you don’t join my team and switch that X.”

he leans back and points to the red X on your chest. flicking it. you stand up and ignore him before walking away from him, going to the bathroom to avoid him. he just stares your way.

“girls who play hard to get are so fucking hot.”

he runs a hand through his hair before going back to his degenerate friend nam-gyu. telling him all about you. granted he twisted a lot of shit. claiming you wanted him so bad, but was just so intimidated by how famous he is that you didn’t want part of that spotlight, and that’s why you said no. definitely was not what you said at all though.

you come back in the room, your pink hair bouncing behind you. god it looked so soft. he should’ve ran his hand through your hair while he had the chance. lights out comes about and he just sits up on his bed, taking another pill. thinking to himself what his next action should be. what if you died tomorrow and he didn’t even get the chance to kiss you? he gets up and walks back over to your side. you were trying to go to sleep, but weren’t asleep yet. he simply just grabs your elbow and pulls you behind the bed, pressing you against the wall.

“what the hell is wrong with you?”

he looks you dead in the eye with a crazed look. and rubs his hands through your hair. so fucking soft.

“babe, you’re just so fucking beautiful, what if you die tomorrow? and i don’t get the chance to smoke with you, kiss you, fuck you…”

you give him a disgusted look before he grabs your face in both hands giving you a tight kiss. forcing his tongue in your mouth. you push at his chest with your hands before stomping on his foot and he jumps back.

“you fucking bitch.”

he goes back up to you before you get the chance to get away from him and he grips your hair between all his fingers. you wanted to scream but didn’t wanna make things worse. plus, nobody would help you in a place like this. constant killing and fighting. nobody gave a fuck about you. he takes a deep breath before he breaths it all out into your neck. he wraps his hands around your neck as a warning, rubbing his fingers in circles around it.

“you’re so beautiful, one of the prettiest women i’ve ever seen. just give a handsome guy like me a chance.”

he kisses you again, hands still around your neck, doing light little pulse squeezes every few seconds as a warning. he bites your lip this time drawing a little bit of blood, causing you to go to scream. but as soon as you do, he’s squeezing your throat as tight as he can, you can’t get any air, not even a single noise out. he continues to kiss you before pulling away and looking you in the eyes as you struggle to breathe. finally he lets go and pushes your hair behind your ear.

“i expect you change your mind tomorrow, kay babe? wouldn’t wanna hurt you even more, i really do like you.”

he takes a step back and you guys just hold eye contact and he swings his cross necklace, playing with it in his fingers before opening it.

“if you ever want some, just come to me. the pink one suits you perfectly.”

[creamecafe]

May you do yandere platonic season 2 squid game with 13-15 year old reader who wants to stay?

Season 2 Squid Game Characters with Teen!Reader who wants to stay

Pairing: Platonic!Squid Game Characters x Teen! Reader

Warnings: none just the characters almost acting like parents

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting I hope you enjoy this!

Seong Gi-Hun

Due to his trauma of losing Kang Sae-Byeok the first time he played the Squid Games, he's not letting you out of sight

He'll make sure you'll on his team always or least close by.

You sleep and eat close by him along with his team, Jun-Hee, Young-il, Kang-Dae Ho and Jung-Bae

Would never forgive himself if you died on his watch

Young-il

When joining the games he didn't expect to have such a change of heart

He was already soft for Jun-Hee because she's pregnant and now you, a teenager joining the games

He wonders what possible debt you could be in, at such a young age

Considers sparing you

Thanos

Wants on you his team immediately

Kinda influences you to follow what he says

Wouldn't threaten you or anything

But would still try to intimidate you to stay

Kang Dae-Ho

Wonders why a teen would ever join this game?

Vows and promises to protect you at all costs

Would talk to you and ask you about your life

He most likely wouldn't think twice giving his life for you

Lee Myung Gi

When he notices how young you are, he's a bit concerned

Whatever reason you're in debt for, he tries to look after you

Tries to tell you to stay away from Thanos and stay close

Cho Hyun Ju

Wants to protect you also

After losing Young-Mi, her emotions and senses are now heightened up

She's terrified to lose you, especially so young

Joins the idea to fight against the guards in hopes to get you out of here safely

Se-Mi

Like Min-su, she also wants to protect you

She'll be like an older sister, teasing you but also cares about you deeply

Tells you to not always be around Thanos as he's not a good influence

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Join my taglist!

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ when you declined to play Ddakji with a man, the least you expected was him stalking you, even less expected when you oblige him to lick your bleeding wound after seeing him kill a man and escaping him.

warnings_ MDNI, age gap (not specified but legal) reader is a foreigner (implied American but not specified again), stalking, blood play, dom!salesman, switch!reader, toxic till the end, sexual innuendos, manipulation, questionable morals, do not romanticize this irl pls, NO PROOFREAD YET

notes_ I’ll just drop this fic and leave it there bc why am i feeling so horny for an Asian sociopath? me la estoy pasando bien raro (i like it)

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 this man

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everything was irritating. The class you had was canceled last minute, the crowd at the train station was loud, the tapping of a kid in a window was constant, and the message you received asking for your campus ID to keep using your student account was sudden and required immediate action. Your cramps and migraine only aggravate everything.

You were steps away from the stairs when you stopped to take the damn picture of your ID and be done with that. But of course, you couldn’t find your wallet at first glance, so you moved aside to take a better look.

You worried about kneeling and ruining your black coat with the dirtiness of the floor at the station, but at the same time, you thought it was just stupid.

A trail of curses flooded your mind as you tried to find your wallet, making you oblivious to a random man walking in your direction.

“Excuse me, Miss… Would you like to play Ddakji?” Said the man asked you in Korean. You were occupied with a hand inside your thrifted designer tote, and your mind unconsciously prepared an answer in English.

“Sorry, I don’t have time” When you realized your mid-answer you sighed, just as you fished out your wallet. “For every win of yours, you’ll earn a great sum of cash”

Once you stood up, you met the face of the man who now answered in English as well. Very tall, handsome, innocent smile and in a suit; a businessman. You knew it was wrong to judge but there was something behind the smile he offered you that resulted eerie.

Like behind that seemingly blameless expression, the man was hiding his true intentions.

Might’ve been your eyes or hair that caught his attention. You weren’t native, and he didn’t want to think he could take advantage, yet his feet dragged him to you.

Placing your bag over your shoulder again, you grab your glasses and phone with tangled EarPods. You give the man one last look. You are not having a good day and you don’t have time to deal with this.

“What do you say?” He asks feigning kindness, eyeing you subtly without your knowledge.

“No, thank you. I don’t even know how the game works”

“You look like you are a natural. You might be surprised if you try. You just have to pick a color and try to flip the opposing tile”

The rich always trying to fuck the one who isn’t. This was just a new way. The urge to roll your eyes grew but you remained still.

“Look, I’m sorry. But I bet you do this just to see how desperate people who need money can go. I won’t be one of them. If not, sorry for misjudging you” you harshly say before putting on your EarPods and leaving the station. You leave him perplexed, huffing in disbelief and igniting a fire of curiosity inside him.

And you completely forgot about the Ddakji man as you made it to your little apartment, not knowing he would turn upside down your upcoming days.

…

Warm days in winter were exciting for you. They boosted your energy and made you want to be out all day.

You had the luck of living in a beautiful complex because it was once from a friend of your mother who married years ago and now had her single apartment for rent.

It had long warm hallways that hosted at least eight apartments by floor. With orange and pink subtle lights and uneven edges. It was truly a sight despite how little the apartments were. One bedroom with closet and bathroom, a tiny studio, small kitchen, enough space for a dining table, another small bathroom, and a half sized living room with balcony.

Your loneliness was well-balanced because you loved your home. But even on warm days, you wanted to be out.

Your red shoes contrasted with everything you stepped on. You carried a bag with a bunch of books and another one with thrifted clothes you bought.

At the park you always walked by, there was a fair amount of people as usual. You don’t care much to look around but someone makes you stare longer than needed.

The same man who asked if you wanted to play a game at the station was in the park. Another impeccable suit dressing him, looking attractive like the first time and already looking at you.

He offered you a smile, to which you didn’t reply. You looked at the ground, feeling like you had frozen.

What a weirdo, he offered bread and a random paper to a lonely man.

Simultaneously, you wondered if the man found you attractive enough to stare like that. With your mind that often became nihilistic, you thought you were delusional and that you should just keep walking.

His eyes remained glued to you. As his prey was thinking about what was better to choose, he contemplated you walking again.

The salesman realized he had made you nervous and that made him feel eager to end his job and follow you again.

Once he realized you lived in a good neighborhood, where his elegant suits matched the vibe, he got even more excited to see you again.

So now, was like it was meant to be.

How sweet, sophisticated, and innocent you looked.

Something shifted, as you passed by his side, only having a view of his back, you assumed he was worked out, his hair looked perfectly fine, and his big hands offered two things. Perhaps you had misjudged him and he really wanted to help. But your inner voice said otherwise. In a sudden change of events, you decided to look back once you were almost at the exit of the park.

With his deep gaze still set on you, your lips formed a smile.

And he took it as a first win in the games that had begun between you two.

…

Once again, you find yourself in the library. Inside one of the biggest malls you’ve been to, you are leaning at a counter, asking if they have an English translation of a book you were interested in.

Your Korean isn’t good enough yet, so as the nice librarian disappeared to find your request, you are working on your next reply, with a translation app.

“Do you recommend me this one?” your back arched as a startled reflex. You quickly stand straight and turn around to see the person you grew anxious to avoid and see again. The salesman is there, looking down at you with a perfectly orchestrated smile.

“Huh?” you ask disconcertingly, he shows you a book, his face looking like he had found a wounded little bird. But it was only you, startled and nervous by his strong presence.

The book is The Divine Comedy. Dante Alighieri.

“Certainly is a good one. A lot of heavenly justice…” you say trying to sound confident, looking at the cover of the book. Displaying the layers that separated heaven from hell. “Do you believe in heavenly justice?”

“I don’t know. We can’t call someone a sinner without a proper trial beforehand” he chuckles, which makes you frown for a second. He truly was unpredictable and you didn’t like that. “Ah, sinners. Always misjudged and harshly punished for being the ones who have the guts to make things…” his deep voice and tone made you wonder if he was self-perceived as a sinner, which made you feel worse.

“You sound like an ethnocentric…”

“I don’t think I’m far into that type of thinking, y/n” Your eyes almost popped out, leaving your hands in an anxious tremble.

“How is it possible that you know my name?” Before he can even answer, you add more. “You are stalking me”

His demonic smile makes your heart stop. The smile you once thought had innocence can’t blind you anymore. He isn’t innocent. He literally confirmed he was stalking you and you didn’t know how to feel.

“I don’t like the idea that conveys the word ‘stalking’. We can call it predestination…” you huff in disbelief. “What do you want with me?”

“I would like to get to know the woman who rejected my Ddakji offer. And ask for one more game” Your lips form a line, and quietly you are hating how much you are enjoying the conversation.

“Hmm, I’m bad at most games, so I’m afraid I will reject you once again” You turned back again to see if the librarian was coming when you felt him stepping closer, which made you feel nervous again.

“I might believe you. I always win…” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers through your spine and creating a lot of tension.

Your psycho mode almost made you lean forward again, daring to see if some friction was possible. But you didn’t, trying to be prudent and acting sane.

“I would’ve wanted a normal first interaction and this time you should’ve asked me out on a date. That’s how it works where I come from but… here, I guess not” he stepped aside as the librarian handed you the book. And as you thanked her and turned to leave and pay somewhere else, he took out a card and handed it to you.

“I’m sure we can work on some sort of arrangement. Here, you may call me…” slightly irritated that he didn’t say much about your inquiry, you snatched the card and walked away.

The cathartic feelings of wanting to keep talking to him and running away from him at the same time resulted in excruciating. It didn’t make sense, the point of him was to nowhere. Being clueless about his age, name, and everything made it feel wrong. Yet, curiosity was starting to burn you.

…

Like a miracle, the heavens moved and sprinkled some luck above you. You found some friends on campus, they spoke English like you and were foreigners as well. One of them was a friend of the owner of a club and invited you for the night.

The invitation made you forgetful about your salesman, whom you hadn’t talked with since the encounter in the library. The card he handed the last time rested between the book you bought the same day, making you unable to read more because it reminded you of the encounter with him.

It resulted unknown to you when was that your life had turned over the edge of becoming twisted. Your feelings for a mysterious man who seemed more accusable than appeared remained undecided.

He made you feel like a wildfire and a caged bird at the same time. Delicate but menacing.

He seemed older than you, professional in a field, mature and imposing. Which you didn’t mind when he appeared to ask you about The Divine Comedy. Either way, you were playing but couldn’t risk anything. Especially in a country where you didn’t know how everything worked.

After getting out of the shower, your thoughts on the salesman are completely faded. You slip on a sequin dress and paint your eyes with glitter and a smokey style.

Thereafter, at the club you let yourself go and have a wild night. Between classes, essays, and the issue with the salesman, you needed a time out.

Everything feels nice when you take a bathroom break and you smile at your reflection. You know you are close to being drunk, it’s the most enjoyable stage of ingesting alcohol.

“Hey, let’s go dancing, I couldn’t find you before!” Yells one of your friends after you reunite with the little group. You nod excitedly, taking her hand and letting her take you to the dance floor.

The music reminded you of that time when spinnin records were a trend and everyone played their mixes at parties back at home. As you move along the track, you don’t look at anything in particular, you just feel interesting and sexy. But your eyes end up giving a quick glance at one table, almost making you stop your euphoric moment.

You swore you saw your salesman.

Looking around you don’t see him, so you return dancing but the odd sensation in your chest doesn’t let you rest.

“What happens?” Asks another friend, looking worried.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone. Never mind…” you shake your head, smiling and convincing them that everything is fine.

But once they got more drunk, you walked out, despite curiosity, you wanted to confirm if the tall gorgeous man was near you.

Rarely you bring up to question your life decisions. Not because you thought you were perfect, but because you easily accepted your errors.

And it wasn’t hard to accept you completely messed up by getting out of the club. Where the night was colder, and some steps away from the main entrance, the crowd was loud. A man could be heard pleading and sobbing, which made you fearful but eager to see what was happening.

You peeked at the alley beside the club. A wave of shock flooded you once you noticed another man was punching the one who yelped and sobbed for forgiveness.

Your salesman was the attacker.

“Please! I’ll pay everything back!” Your mind raced back to the moment you spotted your salesman inside the club minutes ago.

His dark grey suit didn’t fit the aura of the place, but he seemed to be talking with the same man he was now punching.

It was obvious at that point that he wasn’t a good man. He made fun of making people play his seemingly innocent games to later laugh in the face whenever they lost. He was never flirting with you, the odd feeling of uncertainty you felt with him was right.

You had to go. You had to burn the card he gave you, avoid the station where you met him, and forget about his face.

There’s panic in your system, your heart beats fast and nausea starts coming up your throat.

You want to get immediately drunk and forget everything you saw with a hangover. You need it.

But you don’t get very far. Midway through the stairs that conduct to the club, a hand holds your forearm with extreme pressure and drags you inside a private room.

Your salesman finally found you.

…

“You just killed a man!” you almost yelled as soon as he pushed you inside and closed the door.

The room was very fancy like the club. It had a big desk near a window, flower-shaped hanging lamps, black sparkly floor tiles, and a sage velvet couch.

Your salesman slides his fingers through his hair and looks at the ceiling before turning to you. One hand still carrying the murder weapon.

“He deserved it” was all he answered and you take a breath. In need of an alibi, you opened a random fridge in the room and grabbed a beer. Your salesman watched how you sipped at the can. He knew you were feeling a mix of curiosity and disgust for him.

Once you drink at least half of the content, you sigh, brushing aside some hair and walking towards him.

“Who are you?” you ask pleadingly, desperate to know how far you’ve gone for him.

“Eventually you’ll know” he sounds cold, calculating, and menacing. “You didn’t call…”

He was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

“I met you a week ago, I don’t even know your name” you admit with shame and dissatisfaction.

For the first time, he genuinely touches you. Hands straight to your waist, making gasp in surprise.

“You’re smart and will eventually understand. You’re my good girl”

His good girl….

What was left to do when you have a sociopath holding your waist with the same hands he had used to kill a man? Play along, even if you are terrified.

What had been your horrified face, slowly ends up in a smirk, tilting your head, squandering cheekiness. “I’m not your good girl, sir”

He slowly leaned back, taking a seat on the sage couch, one of his hands going straight to rest behind his head, against the wall. He twirled the knife against his knee, making you uneasy, but confident about your upcoming words.

“If I walk away, you can’t do much with me, I’m a foreigner. Sure the authorities would dismantle whatever dirty job you’re into and that’s a big no-no” you explain, and feeling a little too bold, you step between his legs.

“Your lack of ignorance amazes me” he admits, offering you a cocky smile. “It makes me even more infatuated”

Your left knee pushed aside his hand twirling the knife. He remained still but sure seemed slightly surprised when you ended up straddling him. With your hands glued to his dark tie, putting it into place.

“Hmm, well, be careful. I am no threat, I barely have valuable skills to get rid of you but I know I could be a problem. So I guess I won, sir…” you allow yourself to smile, following a path with your fingers, from his tie to his cheeks and nose, softly tracing his pale skin.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart” You knew he was trying to be in control, and the best part was that you weren’t fighting for it.

“There’s a lot I might not understand. I’m just a girl who happened to be in this city for a temporary academic project” When your lips brushed his, you couldn’t deny he was so fucking hot, you wished he wasn’t so weird and probably part of a mafia or cult or whatever. “You are the grown-ass man who got obsessed with me”

“I just find you an odd but interesting player, sweet girl” he tried to use his innocent smile but it was useless when you grabbed him by the shoulders and finally dared to kiss him.

He controlled it the moment he touched you again. His hands had a possessive sting and firmly grabbed you by the hips. One of them still holding the knife.

Feeling bold, with adrenaline flowing freely, you softly bit his lower lip. You knew it was over when he almost let out a moan, and after checking he had his eyes closed, you literally jumped away from him.

Without looking back, you started running. Your clumsy steps turn frantic, knowing damn well he would start following you soon. As you literally start pushing people to get out, your heart beats faster than ever and you have a growing anxiety, begging you to stop and breathe.

Once the cold air hit you, as you took a cab and saw no sign of your salesman, confusion struck you and you saw the blood in your chest and arm.

“Are you alright, girl?” The driver asked, also watching your bleeding state.

“Yes, just an accident, I’m okay” he nods unsure, but starts driving after you give him your destination.

His knife must’ve sliced your skin when you stood up from his lap. When he moved one of his big hands to caress your chin.

It wasn’t that you were scared of him, of your salesman. Although you should be; but you weren’t. Could it be that the worst part was that you were attracted to him? Even after watching him kill a man? You were screwed.

You realize the reason why you always ran away from him is because you don’t know how to face his unpredictable demeanor.

At that point, you didn’t know what he wanted. Only that he was obsessed with you. But his intentions remained a mystery unsolved.

Before getting out of the cab, you pay and send your friends a message that you left early because you got a headache after vomiting. This didn’t happen, but would’ve been better to experience it as a young woman in her twenties.

…

When you opened the door, he was already inside. The worst part is that you weren’t surprised anymore. You only stood at the feet of the door, looking at him with uneasiness.

“You got me worried,” he says, stopping his movements around your table. “You left some blood stains and I thought it was serious”

“You accidentally showed me your true nature. A little bit of blood shouldn’t scare you” his shirt indeed had some bloody spots, his blazer was gone, and the sleeves of his messy shirt were rolled up. You hated that your first thought was that he looked very hot.

He moved and took a seat at one of your tables. He sighed and you realized that perhaps he was also screwed up. For letting himself go too far for you.

“I don’t regret any encounter we’ve had,” he says. “Me neither”

He can’t stop staring at your bloodstained dress and you notice.

Fuck everything, you thought.

I’m attracted to him, he’s attracted to me, What’s the worst thing that could happen? (I don’t want to know).

“Silly boy, look what you did to me,” you say looking at the soaked fabric.

Something possessed you at that moment. Your hands went straight to lift your dress. His eyes trailed your sparkly underwear, your lower belly, and your ribs that rose and fell as you breathed.

Your hands twirl behind your back to unhook your bra; also soaked, throwing it to the floor.

Your salesman is quiet, his innocent smile about to fall because you know you have taken him by surprise.

Likely you’ll get a scar. The would-be slightly deep, an uneven line that passed from your neck to your shoulder.

You step forward, confidently eyeing him.

“Clean it” he tried to stand up, probably to grab a med kit but you stopped him with your heel. “With your mouth. Lick it clean…”

He gulped.

His manspread became the only thing you could care about. How he eyed you with lust and possession for some seconds, and then to lean forwards.

Once again his hands landed on the curves of your hips and he made you step up, leaving him inches away from you.

Your sudden surgation grew and his hot tongue finally made contact with your skin.

You savored the feeling of his tongue, knowing he wouldn’t clean anything but the semi-dry blood over your breast. He was only making a mess.

Then, he lifts his head and catches your lips in a sullied kiss. The way he held you, made you understand how he always wanted control. Above anything.

“I will be gone within time. You can ruin me while it lasts…” you blurt out, panting for air.

“I’ll ruin you. But I don’t want to rip you apart. That’s pointless…” he admits in your lips, blood near your chin that he wipes out. “You’re the most fun I’ve had in years. My little toy…”

“Alright, I’ll be your toy” he nods, kissing you again. “Know that my lips are sealed when it comes to you”

“And you won’t have to worry about anything again…” you moan on his lips when he pulls your hair and finally makes you lay on your once new carpet, now displaying some splotches of blood.

“I don’t need your money”

“Don’t you want to make your mother proud and relieved from student debts? From rent?” You can’t think straight. “It’s not correct…”

“None of this is, y/n. Now shut your mouth and spread your legs, toy”

It’s wrong, immoral, a complete madness. You know everything will change once the night dies and the morning comes. But as much as you tried to communicate to him that you weren’t scared, you knew it was over, you’ve gotten too deep into his shit.

“Farewell to my purity” you whisper in his ear and it’s enough to make his eyes turn darker, full of lust.

Everything that consoles purity would be gone from you. And the fact that you were ready scared you. But once his hands started meeting places across your body, you welcomed the sin.

As well as your mind seized thinking. Not caring about the consequences.

_______________________________________________

If you ask for more I will provide

Quién me manda a escribir estas mamadas? I’m just ovulating.

[gothicfied]

more for 124 :(((((((

Hand in Hand - Nam-gyu / Player 124

Pairing: Nam-gyu / Player 124 x Reader

Summary: The fight in the men's bathroom and the rising tension between players gave you much to worry about, but Nam-gyu gave you to comfort you needed

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, blood, killing (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word count: 721 words

A/N: Tihihihi, I love this man fr. I hope this isn't too cringe🧍‍♀️

You couldn't sleep, actually, no one was able to sleep. Sitting on the bed under you was Nam-gyu, who didn't want to talk to you - talk to anybody - after the fight was broken up. You immediately understood what was up when he yelled out that the men who voted 'X' had attacked them, killing some of the players. Thanos didn't return. Yeah, it was pretty obvious why he seemed so pissed off, so shell-shocked. Quietly, you sat up, carefully leaning down to see what he was doing. Nam-gyu was biting his fingernails, eyeing Thanos' cross necklace that he was holding in his slightly shaky hands. Seeing you leaning down from the corner of his eye, he frowned.

"What?"

"I can't sleep."

"Why?"

"I'm scared.."

Nam-gyu's face immediately softened upon hearing your words. He swallowed hard and hastily tucked the necklace into his pocket, gesturing for you to come down and sit next to him. As gently as possible to not catch anyone elses attention, you dropped down from your bed and leaned against the headboard of Nam-gyu's bed, your shoulder pressed against his. "Are you sad?" you asked quietly, just looking down at your lap as you spoke. You heard his breath hitching for a moment, but he still asked you what you meant by that. "Sad about- well you know." Silence.

Nam-gyu wasn't quite sure how to answer that question. He has witnessed so many deaths in this place by now and none of them have affected him in the slightest. He didn't know them well, so why should he care about a random player? "Because, I'm not sure if I should be." your voice interrupted his thoughts. Slowly, he turned his head your way, taking in your side profile in the dim light. "Nah," Nam-gyu chuckled, "he was an asshole. Had it coming, in my opinion." Despite his words, he sounded bitter. It's not like he didn't mean them, because that's exactly how Thanos was, but they still had some kind of.. friendship.

You met his gaze, your eyes wandering over his face covered in splatters of blood. That was worrying by itself, but you didn't have any interest in asking about what role he played in that fight. "And why are you scared?" You looked at him like he asked you the most stupid question in the world.

"Come on, you know everyone will try to kill each other now."

"And you know that I won't let anything happen to you."

Ever since he defended you from a group of men, who were making more than weird comments about you, immediately on the first day you woke up in this hellhole, you've just stuck with him. On multiple occasions now, Nam-gyu has proven that he actually won't let anything or anyone harm you. Why? He doesn't know it, either. He just likes you and you didn't take that for granted. Nam-gyu made you feel safe, you trusted him, even if that's hard to believe. Usually, he'd be compliant with what Thanos would say or tell him to do, just not when he was giving you a hard time — That's partially why he just couldn't feel sorry for that man.

Slowly, Nam-gyu wrapped his arm around your neck, making you lean your head against his. The silence between you two was never awkward and more comforting than anything. You were able to hear faint whispers of other players, feet tapping the ground and the occasional cough from that old guy, Player 100. Nam-gyu's hair tickled the side of your face as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Whatever happens tonight, I promise I'll keep you safe."

[pisoprano]

Somehow the Jubilation dream gets leaked to the public, specifically a still of Ladybug and Chat Noir kissing at their wedding. A Ladynoir stan becomes so wracked by all the emotions that they end up akumatized as Honeymooner.

Before either Ladybug or Chat Noir can do a thing to combat the akuma, they’re transported to a game show dimension...

--

Honeymooner: Welcome Ladybug and Chat Noir! I am your host, Honeymooner! And I can’t believe you two went and got married and didn’t tell anyone! For shame!

Ladybug: We didn’t actually—

Honeymooner: I have the picture of you both dressed in white right here!

Chat Noir: Really, that was a side effect of the akuma—

Honeymooner: Puh-lease! You two weren’t Couple of the Year for nothing! And I’m going to prove that you two are perfectly perfect for each other by having you play The Newlywed Game! I’ll ask a question and you’ll tell us who you think it applies to more. If you’re right, the wedding bells will ‘ding!’ If you’re wrong, the wedding bells will ‘dong!’ If you’re both right oh, let's say five times, I’ll let you both get back to your honeymoon *wink*!

Monarch: And I’ll know what Ladybug and Chat Noir’s real names are, muahahaha!

Honeymooner: Oh, and I suppose Monarch's giving me the first question: Do you know your partner’s real name?

Ladybug: No.

Chat Noir: No.

Wedding bells: *dong! dong!*

Honeymooner: Incorrect! Both of you are incorrect!

Chat Noir: I’m not lying! *realizes that Ladybug (along with the rest of Paris) has definitely heard the name ‘Adrien Agreste’* But maybe Ladybug has heard my name before? It’s really common!

Ladybug: *remembers Chat calling her ‘Marinette Dupain Cheng’ multiple times* Mine too! So so common!

Honeymooner: I guess that tracks. Moving on, it’s my turn for questions!

Monarch: Hey! I didn’t get to—

Honeymooner: Question 2! When did your partner fall in love with you?

Chat Noir: She didn't fall in love with me.

Ladybug: Exactly! I’m not in love with him!

Honeymooner: Remember, for this question you are answering for your partner, not yourself!

Ladybug: Uh… maybe around our first battle with Glaciator?

Wedding bells: *dong! dong!*

Honeymooner: Both of you are incorrect! Tell us, when did you really fall in love?

Chat Noir: When we first defeated Stoneheart… I told myself I didn't care who was behind that mask, I loved that girl...

Honeymooner: Since the beginning! We all swoon! Now Ladybug, tell us! When did your feelings start?

Ladybug: I… well… maybe I just had some feelings I never noticed…? Not that I can get into an actual relationship right now!

Honeymooner: *points at the wedding kiss picture* I think you’re a little late for that! Question 3! Let’s get into your preferences! What is your partner’s favorite color!

Ladybug: Black.

Chat Noir: Uh… re— *sees Ladybug glaring at him and changes his answer at the last second by imagining what her civilian self would pick, then basing his guess on his 'Everyday Ladybug'*—pink?

Wedding bells: *dong! ding!*

Honeymooner: Chat Noir is correct!

Monarch: What kind of a question was that? I need to know more about what’s behind their masks!

Honeymooner: It seems our butterflyness has something else he wants to know, so: Question 4! What color is your partner’s eyes?

Monarch: That’s not what I asked!

Chat Noir: Blue!

Ladybug: Green!

Wedding bells: *ding! ding!*

Honeymooner: Correct! Hey, you both got one right! I knew you knew each other so well! Only four more times with both of you getting it right to go!

Ladybug: Just for the record, I might have different color eyes when I’m not wearing the mask. And Chat’s got the eyes of a cat, so his eyes could be any color in real life!

Chat Noir: R-right! What my lady said!

Honeymooner: But clearly the fact that you knew means you spend a lot of time looking, tee-hee! Oh, I know what I want to ask! Question 5! Who has spent more time looking at pictures of their partner on their phone!

Ladybug: Chat.

Chat Noir: Me.

Wedding bells: *dong! dong!*

Honeymooner: Incorrect! Ooh, Ladybug, you’re such a voyeur and no one has any idea! So scandalous!

Chat Noir: *remembers he’s Adrien Agreste* Oh, I probably skewed those results since my photos are on my computer instead of my phone!

Ladybug: Y-yeah, and I’m constantly checking the Ladyblog so I keep seeing Chat Noir on the site’s icons!

Honeymooner: Ohoho! So you are someone who's taken steps to be actively engaged with society, hm....? Well, we thought it was such a travesty when you didn’t inform us of your engagement!

Monarch: Ask what echelons of society they run in!

Honeymooner: Question 6! If you were both attending a fancy party with the snobbiest elites in Paris, who would end up making a social faux paus first?

Monarch: NOT! WHAT! I! ASKED!

Ladybug: Chat, definitely. His posture alone would keep this stray from getting through the front doors!

Chat Noir: Meow-ch, I am offended! I’m a purebred feline, thank you very much! I would never make a breach of etiquette, so be default you’d be the first to make faux paws, my lady.

Wedding bells: *dong! ding!*

Honeymooner: Chat Noir is correct! Ladybug, this man is literally the prince of your dreams, you need to take him to a masquerade ball, he will sweep you off your feet and it’ll be so magical…

Ladybug: This is all just hypothetical! And who knows, I can be a bit clumsy sometimes—

Chat Noir: Madly clumsy.

Ladybug: Shut up.

Chat Noir: I will once you start getting more questions about me right!

Ladybug: I've gotten some things right!

Chat Noir: You've gotten one thing right. Which you literally knew since the moment we met. Come on, you know me, Bugaboo. And we'll prove it to the Honeymooner just how much.

--

They do manage to prove they both know each other. After 913 questions, anyway.

concept: an akuma that forces Ladybug and Chat Noir to play some version of the Newlywed Game. in order to beat the akuma they have to get enough questions about the other correct, but the questions often will be random obscure facts about their civilian lives. akuma magically knows the correct answers to all questions asked but still only asks completely useless questions that does nothing to help the butterfly figure out their identities, just enough to have ladybug baffled by how bad she is at guessing about what chat noir's personal life is like

[moonlightwritingf1]

Lando's Obsession | LN4

⊹₊ ˚‧₊୨୧₊‧ ˚ ₊⊹ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando has an obsession for Y/N's boobs

⊹₊ ˚‧₊୨୧₊‧ ˚ ₊⊹ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⊹₊ ˚‧₊୨୧₊‧ ˚ ₊⊹ word count ━━━━━━━ 3k

⊹₊ ˚‧₊୨୧₊‧ ˚ ₊⊹ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

Lando froze for a moment, his cheeks flushing a deep red. He hadn’t expected that. She had always been so reserved, so careful with her words. But tonight? Tonight, she was different. Bolder. And it was driving him wild.

“I wasn’t—” he started, trying to play it cool, but the grin tugging at the corners of his lips gave him away. “Okay, fine. Maybe I was. But can you blame me? That dress is… distracting.”

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, exaggerating the way the fabric clung to her curves. “Distracting, huh? You’re lucky I didn’t call you out earlier. Every time you thought I wasn’t looking, there you were, sneaking glances like some lovestruck teenager.”

Lando took a step closer, his confidence returning in full force. “If I remember correctly, you were the one smirking every time you caught me. Almost like you wanted me to look.”

Her breath hitched as he closed the distance between them. The air between them crackled with tension, the kind that made her skin tingle and her heart race. She could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the night air.

“Maybe I did,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes flicked down to his lips, then back up to meet his gaze. “Or maybe I just wanted to see how far you’d go.”

Lando’s gaze darkened, and he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His touch was feather-light, but it sent shivers down her spine. “Careful, love. You might regret teasing me like that.”

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Or maybe I won’t.”

---

The night had started like any other date they’d been on—except it wasn’t like any other date. This was their fourth date, and the tension between them had been building steadily since the first. What had begun as shy smiles and casual conversations had morphed into something far more intense. Something neither of them could ignore anymore.

When Lando had texted her earlier that day—“Be ready by 7. Wear something stunning”—Y/N had felt a thrill run through her. She knew exactly what she was going to wear. A black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, with a neckline low enough to make Lando’s jaw drop. She hadn’t planned to be this bold, but the sexual tension between them had become too much to resist.

As soon as he’d picked her up, Lando’s eyes had lingered on her chest a fraction too long. She’d noticed—of course she had—but she’d said nothing, only enjoyed the way his gaze kept drifting back to her throughout the evening.

They’d gone to a small, intimate restaurant in Soho, the kind of place where the lighting was dim and the music was soft enough to encourage whispered conversations. Lando had been charming as ever, making her laugh and hanging on her every word. But every so often, his eyes would drop to her cleavage, and she’d catch him mid-glance, her smirk growing wider each time.

After dinner, they’d walked along the Thames, the city lights reflecting on the water. The conversation had flowed easily, but beneath the surface, there was an undercurrent of something else. Something electric. Every brush of his hand against hers, every lingering glance, fueled the fire burning between them.

Now, standing outside her apartment, that fire was threatening to consume them both.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” Lando murmured, his voice low and rough. His hand slid down to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “And if I’m being honest, I don’t think I want to stop.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “What if I don’t want you to stop?”

His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from hers. “Then tell me to leave,” he whispered. “Because if I stay, I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself.”

Y/N’s hands found their way to his chest, her fingers gripping the front of his shirt. “Who says I want you to control yourself?”

That was all the encouragement he needed.

In one swift motion, Lando pressed her against the door, his lips crashing onto hers with a hunger that startled them both. The kiss was messy, desperate, filled with all the pent-up longing they’d been holding back for weeks. Y/N gasped into his mouth, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor.

He groaned, his body pinning hers against the door as his hands explored every inch of her he could reach. One hand slid down to grip her thigh, hiking her leg up around his hip. The other found the zipper of her dress, pulling it down slowly, teasingly, as if giving her one last chance to change her mind.

But Y/N didn’t want to change her mind. She wanted this. She wanted him.

She broke the kiss long enough to whisper, “Inside. Now.”

Lando didn’t need to be told twice.

Lando’s lips crashed back onto Y/N’s as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The hallway of her apartment blurred as he carried her toward the bedroom, their kisses hot and desperate, each one deeper than the last. She could feel the hardness of his body pressed against hers, the way his hands gripped her thighs possessively, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go even for a second.

Her dress had already been halfway unzipped, and as they crossed the threshold of her bedroom, Lando slid it off her shoulders in one smooth motion. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her standing in nothing but her lace bra and matching panties. His breath hitched as he took her in, his eyes darkening with desire.

“Christ, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down her spine. He stepped closer, his fingers trailing up her sides, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she tilted her head back, meeting his gaze. There was something electric in the air between them, a tension that had been building since their first date—no, since the moment they met. It was finally unraveling, and she felt both exhilarated and terrified by how much she wanted him.

“Prove it,” she challenged, her voice trembling slightly despite her bold words. Her chest rose and fell with her quickened breaths, her skin already tingling with anticipation.

Lando’s lips curved into that cheeky grin she loved so much, the one that always made her weak in the knees. “Oh, I plan to,” he said, his tone dripping with promise. Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, his mouth claiming hers in a searing kiss that left no room for doubt.

His hands moved to her bra, deftly unhooking it and letting it fall to the floor. Y/N gasped as cool air brushed against her bare skin, but the sensation was quickly replaced by the warmth of Lando’s hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples until they hardened under his touch.

“Fuck,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to look at her. His eyes were practically black with need as he leaned down, capturing one nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, and Y/N moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair to hold him closer.

He alternated between her breasts, teasing and tasting, each lick and suck sending waves of pleasure through her. His free hand roamed lower, sliding over her hip and down to the curve of her thigh before slipping beneath the edge of her panties.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice ragged as his fingers found her core, already slick with desire. “Please…”

“Tell me what you want,” he urged, his lips still pressed against her skin, his breath hot against her collarbone.

She hesitated for only a moment before whispering, “You. All of you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. In one swift motion, he lifted her again, carrying her to the bed and laying her down gently. He stood at the edge of the mattress, his eyes raking over her body as he began to undress. His shirt came off first, revealing the defined muscles of his chest and abs, and Y/N couldn’t help but reach out to trace the lines of his torso with her fingers.

“So bloody impatient,” he teased, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm before releasing it. The rest of his clothes followed, and then he was climbing onto the bed, settling himself between her legs.

The weight of him above her, the heat of his body against hers, made her head spin. She reached up to cup his face, pulling him into another kiss as his hips pressed against hers. The feel of him, hard and ready, made her whimper into his mouth, and she arched her back, craving more.

Lando broke the kiss, his lips moving down her neck to her chest once more. “Still think I wasn’t trying hard enough?” he asked, his voice thick with amusement and desire as his tongue circled her nipple.

She laughed breathlessly, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Maybe you’re just getting better at hiding it.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin, and then he was kissing his way down her body, his hands pushing her thighs apart as he settled between them. His eyes locked with hers as he hooked his fingers into her panties, dragging them down her legs and tossing them aside.

“Let’s see how smug you are after this,” he said, his tone playful but laced with an intensity that left her breathless. And then his mouth was on her, his tongue exploring every inch of her with a skill that had her crying out his name within seconds.

Her hands fisted in the sheets as he worked her with relentless precision, his movements slow and deliberate at first, then faster, harder, until she was writhing beneath him, her hips bucking against his face. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, his fingers joined the rhythm, curling inside her and hitting that spot that made her vision blur.

“Lando, I—” she started, but the words disintegrated into a moan as her climax hit, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her. He didn’t stop, not until she was gasping for air, her body trembling with the aftershocks.

When he finally pulled away, he looked up at her with a satisfied smirk, his lips glistening. “Still think I’m not trying hard enough?”

She shook her head, too overwhelmed to form a coherent response. Instead, she reached for him, pulling him up to kiss him deeply, tasting herself on his lips. When they parted, she whispered, “Get up here. Now.”

With a groan, Lando obliged, positioning himself at her entrance. He paused, his eyes searching hers. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she breathed, lifting her hips to meet him. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

And then he was inside her, filling her completely, and all she could do was cling to him as they moved together, their bodies perfectly in sync. Every thrust, every moan, every whispered word of encouragement drove her closer to the edge again, until she was certain she couldn’t possibly feel any more pleasure.

But then Lando shifted his angle, his pace increasing, and suddenly she was falling, tumbling over that edge with him right behind her, his name spilling from her lips like a prayer.

Lando collapsed onto the bed beside her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Y/n lay there, her body still trembling from the intensity of their shared climax. The room was filled with the sound of their ragged breathing, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.

Lando turned his head to look at her, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but filled with admiration.

Y/n blushed, her heart still racing. She could feel the warmth of his body next to hers, and it made her feel safe, cherished. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, though her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against him. Y/n nestled into his side, her head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

For a moment, they just lay there, basking in the afterglow of their passion. The silence between them was comfortable, easy, like they had known each other for years instead of just a few months. Lando’s fingers traced idle patterns on her back, sending little shivers down her spine.

“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice soft but filled with curiosity. “Can I… play with your tits?”

Y/n looked up at him, surprised by the question but also intrigued. There was something about the way he asked it—so casually, yet with a hint of mischief—that made her stomach flutter. She smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You can.”

His eyes lit up, and he shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at her. His free hand moved to her chest, his fingers lightly brushing over her skin. He traced the curve of her breast, his touch gentle but deliberate.

She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his hands on her. Every touch sent a wave of pleasure through her body, making her skin tingle with anticipation. His fingers circled her nipple, teasing it until it hardened under his touch.

”God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with awe. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her breast before taking her nipple into his mouth.

Y/n gasped, her back arching involuntarily as his tongue flicked over her sensitive flesh. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to her core. She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him close as he continued to tease her.

Lando alternated between soft kisses and gentle sucks, his hands roaming over her body, exploring every inch of her. He seemed determined to memorize her, to learn what made her tick, what made her moan.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “That feels… amazing.”

He pulled away slightly, looking up at her with a smirk. “Good,” he said, his voice teasing. “Because I’m not done yet.”

He moved to her other breast, repeating the same slow, sensual torture. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle nip of his teeth, sent her spiraling further into a haze of pleasure. She could feel herself growing wet again, her body responding to his touch like it was second nature.

As he continued to play with her breasts, his other hand drifted lower, sliding between her thighs. She gasped as his fingers found her slick folds, his touch light but insistent. He teased her clit, circling it slowly, drawing out every bit of pleasure he could.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “I love how much you enjoy this.”

She moaned, her hips bucking against his hand. “Lando, please,” she begged, her voice shaky. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. His fingers continued to move, his pace increasing as he felt her body tighten around him. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, her entire being focused on the sensations he was creating within her.

And then, just as she thought she couldn’t take anymore, she felt it—the sudden tightening in her abdomen, the rush of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her. She cried out, her body convulsing as she came hard, her nails digging into his shoulders.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed, his voice rough with desire. “Let go.”

When the waves of pleasure finally subsided, she collapsed back onto the bed, completely spent. Lando pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she caught her breath. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his fingers still lightly stroking her skin.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his concern evident.

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “More than okay,” she replied, her voice still shaky. “That was… incredible.”

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Good. Because I plan on doing that a lot more often.”

She laughed, the sound light and carefree. “I think I can handle that.”

They lay there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other’s arms, content to just be together. The world outside their bubble seemed far away, irrelevant. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, lost in each other.

Eventually, Lando broke the silence, his voice soft but curious. “Do you ever think about… what this could be? Us, I mean.”

Y/n looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat at the seriousness in his tone. “Sometimes,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “But it scares me. I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You won’t ruin anything,” he said firmly. “If anything, I think we’re just getting started.”

She searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity there. It was overwhelming, the depth of emotion she saw in him. But it also gave her hope, a tiny spark of belief that maybe, just maybe, she could let herself fall for him.

“Maybe you’re right,” she whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Maybe we are.”

[bunnigumi]

─ SLUT ME OUT

HE'LL LAUGH at how dumb you always get. It's amusing to see how he can turn you to putty in his hands.

cw. megumi x reader , praise , degradation , dumbification

Megumi talks to you so nicely during sex. Your sweet little cunt has him saying all sorts of things like, "You're taking me like such a good girl," and, "You like it that much, baby? Clenching around me so fuckin' tight."

Sometimes he fucks you so dumb that your brain just can't register what he's saying; it's the honeyed tone of his voice that makes you melt. You dont even realize it when he starts calling you slut and whore, and stops calling you sweetheart or good girl as he continues to sing his praises.

You stare up at him with your eyes glossed over, the only thing your body can comprehend is him pounding into you so well... It's absolutely adorable—the way he sees how your pupils are blown wide with lust as he leans closer to you, "Gonna take my cum, right, slut? Gonna take it all like a good fuckin' whore?"

Mindlessly you nod your head, smiling. Hands holding onto his tighter, undeniably cockdrunk, you do your best to slur out an answer, "Want it, 'gumi, I wan' it all..."

He'll laugh at how dumb you always get. It's amusing to see how he can turn you to putty in his hands. "Better keep it all in there then." He dives his nose into the crook of your neck, trailing up kisses and leaving a mark or two for all your friends to see. Whispering in your ear when he's done with his ministrations, "Cumsluts like you never let a single drop go to waste, isn't that right?"

He really loves to play this game with you, seeing how much he can break you to where you can't even differentiate the names he calls you. Maybe one day you'll get it. Just not today.

[maruflix]

CAVE CANEM #oneshot #squidgame #thefrontman

Cave canem. Beware of dogs. In the ruthless games, there are countless hounds looking for prey. Oh Young-Il promises to be your shield, your shepherd, your guardian angel— but you soon find out that it’s often the unassuming ones who are the most dangerous.

feat. the frontman / hwang in-ho / oh young-il　　⎯⎯　wc. 2.5k

cw: female reader, yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, manipulation, squid game spoilers, i’ll use all of his names & nicknames here so don’t get confused, i do not condone yanderes irl, no beta we die like all 455 players in season 1

I.

It’s funny how tragedy brings people together.

It has only been twenty two hours since you entered the twisted battle royale with 45.6 billion won dangled on top of you, but you’ve found companionship in fellow participants: Player 456 Seong Gi-hun, Player 388 Kang Dae-ho, Player 390 Park Jung-bae, and Player 001.

Oh, Player 001.

“How are your wounds?”

You look up to see Player 001 — or, as he introduced himself to you, Oh Young-il. His eyes gleam in worry as he takes in your appearance: hair disheveled, knee bruised, sleeves rolled up to reveal the scratches littering your hands.

You’re just glad you didn’t get killed during the Red Light, Green Light stampede.

“This is nothing,” you assured him with a genuine smile, “thank you for helping me.”

Young-il pauses. Then, as if remembering something, he reaches into his pockets and hands you a small carton of milk. “Here. You must be dehydrated.” He watches as you gratefully take it, instantly drinking the contents, “Don’t worry about the next game. We’ll get through it together.”

Tears are brimming in your eyes at the kind man’s encouragement. You let him take your hand and nod at him, smiling. “Thank you, Young-il-ssi.”

Young-il gives you one last smile before climbing back down to rejoin the rest of the group. His movements alerts Jung-bae, who mindlessly throws a glance his way.

Jung-bae instantly pauses. He knew from the start that Player 001 is not a simple man, but the expression on Young-il’s face is nothing short of terrifying, like a tiger eyeing its’ prey. He follows Young-il’s line of sight and finds you, curled on one of the beds.

A chill runs down his spine.

II.

You don’t know how you got through the Six-Legged Pentathlon, but you did.

Chosen as the one to play ddakji — it’s not like you sucked at it, but you were scared you would be a burden to your teammates — your hands couldn’t stop trembling.

The squares of ddakji felt like rocks in your hand, your shoulders heavy by the fear of dragging everyone down. Their encouragement and cheers merely heightened your anxiety.

That was, until a hand gently clasps your own. “Don’t think too much about it. You said you won more times than the ddakji guy, didn’t you?” Young-il’s eyes twinkle, his shoulders lax, as if he’s not currently playing for his life, “Well, you won’t receive slaps if you fail, so go wild.” It’s amazing how he manages to silence all your fears.

You flipped the ddakji on your first try.

III.

In-ho knew it from the start, but the reality of it still disgusts him. Humans are selfish creatures, blinded by greed, driven by instincts.

He sighs, looking at the results of the vote— 139 for ‘O’ and 116 for ‘X’. One hundred and thirty nine people marching to their own deaths like brainless maggots.

He sneaks a glance your way and sees that you’re shuddering. His heart drops to the pits of his stomach. Slipping away from Gi-hun, he makes his way to you. He keeps on surprising himself: joining Player 456 in the games, cheering with the others during the pentathlon, and now comforting you?

But In-ho is not one to ruminate over his actions too much. He knows what he wants, he gets what he wants, and right now all he wants is to hold you in his arms.

“Young-il,” your eyes instantly land on his and he wonders how it will feel to hear you call him by his real name, “I’m scared. I’m so scared, I don’t want to die!”

He’s beside you the next second, catching you before you can fall to the ground, strong arms wrapped securely on your waist. In-ho falters for a fraction of a second, but his hand quickly shoots up to caress your hair.

Receiving the kindest act for the first time in many years, you can’t help but to cry in his warm embrace, letting out all your frustration and fear. His touches are so tender, so serene, and being enveloped in his tall figure makes you feel protected.

In-ho calms your sobs with gentle shushes, rubbing circles on your back. He was unsure then, but his heart is determined now— he wants you, he’s got to have you, and there’s nothing under the seven heavens that will stop him.

He shudders at the thought of having you all to himself. In-ho can barely control himself right now, when you fit so good in his arms, your skin brushing against his. What would it feel like? To have you next to him every second of every day? He’d shower you with all of him— all his riches, all his affection, all his time.

First, the two of you will have to exit the game safely.

His grip on you tightens as he lifts his gaze from your trembling figure to the several pink guards stationed near the door. In the distance, they straighten their posture in alarm.

Even among the many faces of the players, they can locate their boss in a heartbeat — the Front Man is still the Front Man, even if he’s amusing himself by playing dress up. The way he carries himself is so telling, they have no idea how the players are none the wiser to the wolf hiding amongst the sheep.

... And right now, their superior’s glare speaks volumes about what he’s conveying.

A warning.

IV.

‘One more game,’ they said, ‘it’ll be fun,’ they said.

The rotating stage under your feet is spinning at a controlled pace, yet you feel like you’re going to throw up. The light feels blinding, the gasps from the participants making your head spin even more.

Amidst all the chaos, Young-il’s hand clasping yours serves as an anchor.

“You okay?” His voice is as gentle as ever, unworried.

Even Gi-hun, the former winner of the games, is not exempt to the anxiety and apprehension that shadows the rest of them, but Young-il has never showed any signs of stress— like he has a safety net... or like he’s very sure of his own abilities.

You nod, grateful that he’s allowed you to stick by him like glue all this time. He squeezes your hand in encouragement, smiling.

“Two.” The woman’s voice announces cheerily. In an instant, the crowd erupts in disarray.

Young-il looks around. “Stick close to me,” he murmurs before pulling you with him towards one of the rooms. Not wanting to be a burden to him, you quickly fall in line, matching his steps. His back is very comforting as he cleverly navigates the chaotic hall, avoiding the other players.

Just when the two of you reached the door, a player appears, crashing into the two of you and sending you tumbling away from Young-il. Your world spins as you struggle to pick yourself up, searching for him.

Thankfully, you locate him almost immediately. A few steps away from the door, Young-il is strangling your attacker. “Get in! I’ll be right behind you!”

Fueled by adrenaline, you nod frantically, moving to enter the room. But there’s already another person inside.

True to his word, Young-il quickly scrambles to the room, slamming the door behind him. He immediately takes note of the anomaly, his expression dark.

“I-I was here first!” The stranger sputtered, shuffling away from Young-il.

There are loud bangs coming from the other side of the door and you quickly hold onto the lock, tears now falling from your eyes. “Sorry!” You yell, ”Sorry!”

“Five. Four. Three.” The countdown continues mercilessly.

You look back, “The other guy—!” but your words are caught in your throat.

Young-il has the man in a chokehold. For a moment you had no idea why he’s handling the guy so aggressively when it’s obvious that he’s more scared of the two of you than the two of you are of him.

“Two.”

“Young-il!”

“One.”

CRACK!

You scream. The man slips from Young-il’s hold, limp.

Lifeless.

Young-il’s gaze meets yours. There’s an emotion you can’t quite place on them, but it’s quickly replaced by that of horror. “I-I had to do it.” Tears start to brim on the corner of his eyes, his hands visibly shaking, “I had to-” he desperately crawls away from the dead man as he covers his face in terror, “I’m a monster, I-”

Crying, you kneel next to him, pulling him into an embrace, “No, you’re not,” assuring him in between sobs, “it’s this game, it’s the game’s doing, it’s not your fault!”

Breath haggard, In-ho rubs your head comfortingly. You didn’t even realize that he has long since stopped crying. He covers your ears, knowing by now that the sound of gunshots horrifies you, and glances at the body of the man he just killed.

You watched him kill one guy and you get this rattled? He sighs quietly.

For you, he would kill a thousand more.

V, PART ONE.

“Hey girl,” a voice booms from behind you, catching you by surprise.

You let go of your hand that’s holding Young-il’s, turning your head to address the stranger.

“Saw you from afar and I can’t believe I didn’t talk to you sooner.” The purple haired man wastes no time getting into your space, running a hand through his hair. “D’ya know who I am? Because I wanna know who you are.”

You stiffen up. Of course you know him. Who didn’t? The number one ambassador of the ‘O’ team, aka the people who wish to continue the games, the outspoken menace, Thanos.

Thanos catches sight of something behind you and wavers before looking back at you. “A-anyway. I’ll see you around. Team’s always open, baby!” He exclaims, but it’s obvious that he’s trying to hide his nervousness.

You look back to see Young-il smiling at you. “Wonder what that’s about.”

The people here freaks you out. You sigh. “I know, right?”

In-ho hums, his finger treading along the sharp edges of the fork.

V, PART TWO.

The bathroom is a mess— team ‘O’ and team ‘X’, warring against each other, fueled by the actions of a junkie who’s high out of his mind.

In the middle of it all, Hwang In-ho calmly makes his way to a purple haired man who is slumped on the ground, yelling at his friend.

“Get him, get that sucker! He tried to kill me, man!”

A dark shadow looms over Thanos, and he looks up in terror, recognizing In-ho immediately. “W-what are you-?”

In-ho eyes him coldly before swinging down.

The cold gleam of a fork is the last thing Thanos sees before it penetrates his neck.

VI.

The fire of revolution burns bright behind all of you. Your hands may tremble, but your rifle is secure in your arms. All those first person shooter games are finally coming in handy as you manage to actually shoot down several guards.

“You okay?!” Young-il questions in panic, “You’re doing a good job! It’s gonna get more dangerous afterwards, but I can’t leave you behind!”

You nod, reassuring him, following him up the stairs with two other men in tow. Right now, you are brother-in-arms, comrades, fighting for your freedom.

Young-il halts, sensing the presence of a guard, before speaking into the comm, “Gi-hun-ssi, we found it.” he holds out an arm in front of you like a shield, “Start attacking and draw their attention. Then we’ll hit them from behind.”

Your knees tremble in fear and anticipation. Somehow, with Young-il on your side, you feel like this ragtag team of freedom fighters can actually succeed.

“Okay, got it!” Gi-hun’s invigorated reply came from the other side.

Young-il pockets the comm, nodding to the two men, who nod back and move forward. He quickly moves in front of you, signaling you to stay behind him.

Just when you thought about how reliable he is, two sharp gunshots resonates in the air.

Is it over?

You peek from behind Young-il’s back only to be met by the horrific sight of Player 015 and Player 047 sprawled on the ground, choking on their own blood.

Young-il’s rifle is still pointed at the two of them, his eyes cold.

Who is this person? You scramble to get away from him, alarm bells ringing in your head. Did he miss his shot? Did I see wrong? Is there a guard in front of him?

“Young-il-ssi, what’s going on?” came Gi-hun’s distressed voice from the comm, “Are you shooting?”

You watch in horror as Young-il calmly reloads his rifle and squat down, glancing your way. “Gi-hun-ssi, I’m sorry.” Like a seasoned actor, the unscathed Young-il puts on a strained voice, “It’s all over. They got us too.”

Gi-hun’s voice is blurred as you fall to your knees, finally coming into terms with the betrayal of the person you’ve come to trust the most.

Young-il momentarily looks away from you to shoot the two men one more time. Cold, unfeeling, his fingers steady like he’s done this countless time before.

This is not the Young-il you know.

When it’s all over, several pink guards march to him, a coat and a black mask in tow. Young-il (?) lifts a hand up to stop them, turning to finally address you.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, your fingers desperately trying to locate the trigger on your rifle, but the man in front of you is much quicker. He yanks the rifle from your trembling hands, unloading the bullets and kicking the weapon away as you back away to the wall, shivering in fear.

He sighs, taking the coat from one of the guards before kneeling down to your height. “I won’t hurt you. You know that, right?”

Confused, you can only gape at him. “W-who are you..?”

“Hwang In-ho. My real name.” he offers, tenderly wiping a tear from your cheek, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lie to you. I’ll explain everything, if you’ll just give me a chance..?”

In one swift motion, he wraps his coat around your shoulders. You look at his eyes, as tender and unchanging as ever— then it dawns on you: he has always been this way.

“Mr. Front Man, sir, everything is ready.”

You let In-ho pull you to your feet, his touch as comforting as ever as the two of you pass by countless guards. They make way for the two of you, the hierarchy crystal clear when not one of them dare to step out of line.

You’ve been such a fool. All the signs were there, the reason why Player 001 carries himself with such grace as if he’s untouchable. How the guards say things about ‘not tolerating actions that will disrupt the votes’ and yet kept quiet when it’s Player 001’s turn to speak his mind. The way they would shuffle away from him slightly whenever he walks—

In-ho turns to look at you, his eyes kind, “Do you trust me?”

And you can’t bring yourself to say no.

note: i know i appeared on the dash absolutely losing it over the recruiter/the salesman/ddakji guy (he’ll get his own fic after this don’t worry) but i took one look at this man with his hair down and i fell into a SPIRAL. this is totally a passion project. front man ftw 🙆‍♀️

[slurmpinheimer]

from @cyber-harpie !! spit that shit homie!! I thought this deserved to be seen because it brings up a lot interesting points—and I do agree with this, though it got me thinking again. I would like to add a few things to my initial statement because analysis and talking about Kim is fun;

(WARNING: MAJOR KIM-RELATED YAPPAGE BELOW)

I’ve watched several play throughs where (especially at the beginning of the game/if they have low psyche) people aren’t sure of Kim, or even go so far as to call him annoying, a buzzkill, or an asshole. At first I found myself getting really defensive about this. Obviously not to the point that I made any hate comments or anything, that would be silly— But just in my head, automatically dismissing it because I love him and didn’t want to hear it. I couldn’t imagine anyone disliking him, instead of thinking deeper and considering *why* people might come to these conclusions.

I believe the bits we get from Esprit and Empathy support my initial point that Harry is the perfect narrative device to meet Kim through. If I remember correctly, Kim was written specifically to find Harry funny, and Harry’s skills let us see that. and that’s IF you succeed the checks, or if you’re dedicated enough to save scum to see other possibilities/go through Fayde to see what other options might have held.

Like, before I learned about the end of the Homosexual Underground thought line, I certainly had my suspicions. I definitely thought Kim was at least queer-coded and headcanoned him as gay, but that thought trail is behind a legendary Composure check that I spent like 10 full minutes save-scumming. I had low motorics on my first run, and I only tried so hard because I had been spoiled and knew that it gave a thought called “Homosexual Underground” and needed to see where that led with my own eyes.

That’s just one example too—There’s several times that Kim Lore is behind hard checks (Ace’s High/Low, that tidbit about him smoking weed lol) or things he just refuses to elaborate on without specific circumstances. Plus there’s all the stuff that you can learn when you play a different quest line. I’ve had several people tell me that going through a fascist ends up with Kim actually being pretty open about things you don’t learn about in other questlines. I don’t even know all the details of that yet because I’ve been so busy doing the other quests and achievements that I haven’t finished a fascist run yet.

My thought process with all this is that without seeing Kim through the lens Harry, who works with him almost constantly for a week straight in a situation where deep and meaningful conversation is not just encouraged but *needed* to build a repertoire and ultimately solve the case—Not to mention the patience and care Kim treats Harry’s situation with—I can see how someone would look at Kim from the outside and find him to be… (anguish at typing out this word) …mid.

So yeah. On the surface level; Kim is a cop. He can be condescending and uptight, sometimes leading into lecturing people (something he himself admits). He plays his cards close to his chest, with both his moralist beliefs and even more so his sympathies for the rebellion—Which can make him look a bit like a fence sitter. He can be emotionally unavailable towards himself and others, making him hard to read and sometimes appear cold.

But past that, he is a beautifully crafted, deep character, and the perfect foil to the chaos that is Harry. He is the man that reaches out to shake your hand even though you ghosted him two days prior. He will pat you and give you a handkerchief when you throw up. He can be the man that sticks up for you time and time again, not just because he needs to in order to solve the case, but because if you really try, he believes you’re a good detective at heart. Past suicidal rants and nervous breakdowns, he encourages you to keep going.

He has been beaten down, ground and polished to a smooth finish by mutiple facets of oppression—from his glasses, to his race, his sexuality, all fundamental parts of himself that he cannot change. From years of working in a high-pressure, volatile work environment with low pay and little benefits other than the small satisfaction of completing a case, only to dive headfirst into the next one.

He pushed aside his lofty dreams of the skies to be down with the rest of us in the dirt and mud, trudging, struggling through life until we all inevitably burn away the fuel reserves and are nothing but smoke, a memory in the mind of fire.

Beyond that carefully constructed exterior, past his wall of professionalism (and habit of using his notebook as a shield) hides a goofy nerd, a lover of crosswords and cars, of silly radio stations, and a deep appreciation for beautifully bearded muscular men. He is an expert user of sarcasm and master of cryptic jokes, some even philosophical or political in nature. At his core, he wants to make things better for the people around him. He wants to believe he can make a difference, no matter how long it takes or how small the change is. Even if working for the RCM destroys him before he can see it come to fruition.

He is wonderful. He is amazing. He’s probably my favorite character all of fiction, and I don’t think there will ever be a day in my life that I stop loving him. That’s pookie you’re talking about. I’ll always have space in my heart for him.

He will live on as long as we do, as real as The Man From Hjemdall is to Roy because Disco Elysium *made* him real, handcrafting him, giving him life between margins and pixels. And that is worth everything.

Kim Kitsuragi is a fascinating character because there's not that much fun or interesting or compelling about him. And yet somehow over the course of playing Disco Elysium the game rewires your fucking brain around him. He's the middest man you've ever seen in both appearance and personality but at some point he says something kind to you or something critical of you and you feel like you just got hit by a truck and you need his approval like you need oxygen and like how tf did this happen. what are you

[souljahwwitch]

PINK HAIRED SWEETHEART! pt.2

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 some hc’s about thanos x fem reader! after the squid game <3

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ; since everyone wanted part two with thanos and pink haired reader, here you go!

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 what you didn’t expect was, during the squid game, thanos went in length to take a pen from those pink soldiers, just so he can write your number on his hand, he promised you two will go to a pretty cafe—didn’t he?

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 but when you, him and like—four more people finally got out, with shit tons of money, your paths were separated—afterall they left every single one in different places. and you didn’t even know where he lives, you thought it was just his little joke.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 you were chilling in your room, two days later-figuring out your plan, and then you got a call from an unknown number, you thought nothing of it—just picking up mindlessly

“hello?” you mumbled softly

“missed that annoying voice of yours, not gonna lie.” your eyes widened—it really was him, he wasn’t playing around.

“you jerk! you weren’t joking” you said with a giggle—and you couldn’t help but notice the way your heart did a flip at his laugh.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 you two soon made plans that consisted of just chilling, you two found a cute cat cafe and he said he’d be waiting for you there tomorrow at 8 pm

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 you actually put some effort in looking pretty (you always are pretty!) but it was kind of strange when he saw you bloodied and messy.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 when you entered the said cafe, you saw him there—cigarette in his mouth, your eyes got glassy for whatever reason as you sat across from him, his eys widening and his grin to his eyes.

“your hair is hard to miss, angel” he said, smirking and you rolled your eyes—mumbling a little ‘says you.’

“soo how you doing after all of..this.” you contemplated his question.

“i still don’t feel anything, it’ll take a few days for me to realize what the fuck happened.” you said, honestly.

“i mean…for a pretty little thing like you—you were fucking ruthless.”

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 you two talked and talked, and you couldn’t help but notice there was something different in his eyes rather than annoyance

“y’know, you should wear your hair in two braids more often, suits the pretty pink that’s going on.” he said, his eyes ranking over you shamelessly

“you think so?” you mumbled softly, looking up at him all shy and pretty

“yeah—yeah i think so, angel.” he mumbles, his tattoed hand softly tilting your chin up at him, his face getting dangerously close.

[windixie]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ out of touch ♱ soccer player! gojo x alt! reader pt.1

summary : gojo is the university's most popular boy and soccer player. he can get any girl he wanted to warm up his bed, so why did he catch feelings for the girl who looks like she just woke up out of a coffin?

warnings ☠︎︎ this will contain smut throughout the story. reader is implied to have a smaller chest! gojo is an asshole :( so angst, profanity, insecurities, p in v, creampie, comfort, fluff, slight breeding kink, light choking, jealousy, ill prob add to the list as the story progresses!

word count : 1.03k

let me know if you want to be added to the tag list !!

you knew gojo. hell, everyone knew gojo. annoying, loud, obnoxious, ah should I go on? that's how you described the so called star player on the soccer team. his ego reached all the way towards the clouds by how much he was admired in the community. you on the other hand, not so much. sure you were known by many but not in such a positive way. you were intelligent sure, but the way you dressed wasn't entirely accepted. you were always getting bothered by other students, one of them being no other than satoru gojo. although, it seems that you two have grown into a friendship lately.

"hey pretty" you heard an awfully familiar voice come up behind you. the white haired boy was still in his blue and white soccer jersey covered in grass stains and some of his sweat from his practice that he just came from. you gave him one of your small sweet smiles."hi gojo" you mumbled back.

he looked down at your figure. the pretty black blouse fit you so perfect as well as those mini grey jean shorts that cupped your ass so deliciously. gojo took notice of you wearing your earbuds which he took one of them and placed it in his ear. "whatcha listening to?" you faced him slightly annoyed as you looked at how his face scrunched up in disgust.

"seriously? how can your ears support all that screaming?" he grimaced as he heard the loud singing.

he let out a chuckle at that before his eyes lit up as he realized something. reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper handing it to you. you blamed the shot of arousal that traveled towards you as you took notice of how veiny his arms were. you glanced down to see it was a ticket. a ticket to his upcoming soccer game, to be exact.

your eyebrows picked up as you turned to him. "you want me to go to your game?" the question made the blue eyed boy nod. "want you there on the stands baby, if you can, then I promise to play even better than I usually do." you were shocked to say the least. the satoru gojo inviting you to his game personally even after countless months of relentless bullying was not something you could see coming.

but you couldn't help yourself from nodding. "yeah sure ill be there!" the feeling of your heart beating against your chest brought a scary but not unwelcome feeling. You stared at him for a moment, unsure if you were hearing things correctly. The blue-eyed boy, a walking angel blessed by God himself, smirked down at you with a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. It wasn't the usual cocky smirk. It was different—something warmer, maybe? Or maybe you were just imagining it.

"I'd like that."

"great, ill see you tomorrow after school then?" he asked in which you let out an mhm in return. "okay pretty, try and get some sleep. you need some just by judging off your eye bags" he teased. "shut up!"

you watched the taller boy walk off. his use of the sweet and loving names made you feel a little awkward, but you shoved it down. You had a feeling that this was just another one of his ways of throwing you off. It wasn’t like he was being sweet. Not Gojo. He never was.

As you walked off to the other side of where the dormitories where taking note on how the night was now awakening due to time change. as you reached for your AirPods case to put back your earbuds your fingers stopped on your left ear. your earbud was missing.

gojo didn't take notice of the music cutting off. he was in a completely different world thinking about none other than you. he didn't understand how he caught feelings. no matter how many times he reminded himself it was you and how he could do some much better that that. he only gave you to ticket to his game only to be nice, is what he told himself. a friendly gesture friends do all the time!

"yo Satoru!" one of his friends called out to him. gojo turned to look at the boy with long black hair and big ass gauges walking up to him along with some other boys from the team. a smile crept up on his face dabbing them all up. "hey you all did well at practice today"

"yeah man that's what we came to say as well but we saw you talking to that emo freak uh whats her name, y/n?" this made gojo slightly embarrassed on how they caught him. "don't tell me you hitting on that emo pussy, it can't be that good" one of the other teammates chuckled making the white haired boy slightly uncomfortable.

"nah man, too busy with uraume" Geto patted his back "good good, lets keep it that way. she's got a better body anyways. let me burrow her sometime yeah?" the blacked hair boy received a nudge at that making him chuckle.

you looked around you trying to find the taller boy to retrieve your airpod. sighing in relief as you saw him. "gojo!" you called out making the boys turn around.

"ah she came back for round two?"

you walked up to him. "hey uhm you still have my AirPods." you said pointing to his ear. "give back your friend her AirPods satoru" his friend teased.

"we're barely friends. acquaintance is a better term" he mumbled out. as you received back your airpod, you stopped. eyes widening as you heard what he said. "acquaintance? thought we were-"

"friends?" he cut you off. "cmon I pay attention to you two or three times and now suddenly we're friends?" he scoffed. why was he acting like this? that's right, because he's satoru gojo. you were nowhere as close as him. you never will be. your face turned serious before you reached into you pocket handing him the ticket he gave you. "here, you dropped this" you mumbled.

gojos eyes fell down to the ticket in his hands. his heart broke a bit. "wait.. y/n-"

"forget it" with that you retrieved back to the direction to your dorm fighting back tears as you left the boy stunned.

"looks like you hurt her feelings, gonna go apologize?"

"nah."

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