#yes i know that is not quite what he meant but also it was what he meant

[n0vazsq]

Love shot | MV1 x Reader

pairing . . . hitman!max verstappen x mega!rich!reader

summary . . . You never suspected to fall in love with your assistant, but when he tells you something groundbreaking, you don't know what to believe

request . . . no!!

word count . . . 1.4k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . i feel so bad for reader omg like girl you dont deserve that?? also yes i am acting like i didnt write this shit

. . . You had never been one for grand parties or society's shallow circles. You were the heiress to a vast fortune that seemed to grow larger every day, yet it never seemed to fill the emptiness inside you.

After your father’s passing, the inheritance came with a weight you never asked for, pushing you into a world of power and danger you barely understood.

The mansion where you lived, nestled away from the prying eyes of the city, was meant to be your sanctuary, but it often felt like an extravagant cage.

You preferred the solitude of your home, away from the pressures of high society and endless obligations. That’s when you had started to notice him, the quiet figure in the background.

He wasn’t like the others. While your estate was filled with a rotating cast of servants and security, there was something different about Max, or as you had come to know him, Marcus.

He introduced himself as a personal assistant, a new hire who would help with the day to day operations of the house. His professional demeanor and neatly pressed uniform made him seem like just another cog in the machine.

But Max, Marcus, wasn't like the others. He moved with a practiced ease, slipping between tasks without drawing attention to himself, yet somehow, you found yourself drawn to him.

At first, you thought it was just the feeling of having someone new in your otherwise quiet world. But the more you saw of him, the more you began to notice things that intrigued you.

There was a quiet strength about him, an air of mystery that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He never stayed long in any one place, his presence often fleeting, but you caught glimpses of something deeper when his eyes met yours, something more than just professionalism.

It was on a chilly evening, weeks after Max had started working for you, that the first real conversation between you two happened.

You had been sitting by the fire, absently flipping through a book when you heard footsteps approaching. Without looking up, you assumed it was just another of your staff, but the voice that interrupted the silence made you glance up.

"Is it too late to bring you something warm, Miss? Tea, perhaps?" Max’s voice was soft, almost hesitant.

You smiled, gesturing to the seat across from you. "Tea sounds perfect."

As he moved to prepare the tea, you watched him carefully. The way his hands worked with precision, the way his body language was always so controlled; it fascinated you.

He wasn't like any of the other assistants or servants you had encountered. Most of them treated you with a kind of cautious respect, but Max seemed different. His eyes, though polite, didn’t shy away from meeting yours.

They weren’t filled with the usual fear that people often had when they dealt with someone of your status. There was something in his gaze, something that made you wonder if he saw you as more than just the heiress of a fortune.

After a moment, he placed the tea down in front of you with a small, respectful nod. "I didn’t mean to intrude, Miss. But I thought you might enjoy some company."

You looked up at him, surprised by his words. He had always been so reserved, never seeking attention or conversation. It was strange, and yet it made you feel a little less alone.

"You don’t have to be formal with me, you know," you said, offering him a soft smile. "I know you're just doing your job, but I appreciate the company."

Max paused, his eyes flickering toward the fire before looking back at you. There was something about his gaze that was softer now, less guarded. "It’s… not a bother. I find it nice, talking to you."

The words hung in the air between you two, and you both fell into an easy silence, the crackle of the fire filling the space where words would’ve been.

Over the next few weeks, your interactions with Max grew more frequent, and you found yourself looking forward to his presence.

It was subtle at first; a quiet conversation over dinner, a brief exchange in the hallway, the occasional shared look across the room when you were in the same place. But it wasn’t long before you began to feel a connection with him, one that went beyond just the formality of employer and assistant.

One evening, as you both worked late into the night, you looked up from the papers spread across the table to see Max standing by the door, watching you. His gaze was focused, his expression unreadable. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, what he saw when he looked at you.

"Max," you said softly, your voice breaking the silence. "You don’t have to stay this late. I can finish up myself."

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I don’t mind. You’ve been working hard. Besides, I… enjoy being here."

The words left you with a flutter in your chest. There was something so genuine in his voice that it made you rethink your previous assumptions. He wasn’t just a hired hand, he was different, and you felt it.

Days turned into weeks, and with every passing day, the space between you two seemed to shrink. He would find ways to help you with little things; bringing you coffee in the morning, offering quiet advice when you were stressed, and sometimes even staying to talk about things that weren’t about work at all.

You learned small details about him; how he liked to keep to himself, how he didn’t share much about his past, and how his eyes seemed to soften whenever you spoke to him.

In return, you found yourself opening up to him more than you had to anyone else. You shared your fears about the empire your father left behind, your loneliness, your struggles to fit into a world you never chose.

In those moments, you didn’t feel like the heiress; you felt like just a woman, speaking to someone who didn’t look at you with judgment or expectation.

And then, one day, it happened. You were sitting together, talking about your father, when he asked, almost out of nowhere, "Do you ever wish things were different? That your life wasn’t so… tangled up in all this?"

You stared at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. You had never expected Max, of all people, to ask such a question. But in that moment, you saw something in him, a depth that you hadn’t noticed before.

"I wish things were different every day," you said softly, meeting his eyes. "But I don’t know how to make it stop. How to be free of all of this."

Max’s gaze lingered on you, and you could feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts. He opened his mouth to say something but then hesitated, his expression clouded with something you couldn’t quite read.

"Max, what’s going on with you?" you asked, your voice soft but firm. "You’ve been acting different lately. What’s on your mind?"

For a long moment, he said nothing, and then, almost reluctantly, he spoke. "I… I never meant to get close to you. That wasn’t part of the plan."

Your heart stopped. The words hung in the air, and you could feel a lump form in your throat. You didn’t know what to say. Was this the moment you had been dreading, the moment he would reveal the truth about why he was really there?

"I was hired to watch you," he continued, his voice barely a whisper. "To make sure you didn’t become a problem. I was supposed to kill you."

The world seemed to freeze in that moment. All the warmth, the connections, the late night talks, the quiet laughter; it all felt like a cruel lie.

"You…" you whispered, trying to process his words. "You were hired to kill me?"

Max’s eyes were filled with regret, but there was no way to undo the truth. "I didn’t expect any of this," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "I didn’t expect to care about you."

Silence settled between you two like a heavy fog. The world around you seemed to collapse, leaving you with only the bitter reality of his confession. You had trusted him, you had opened up to him, and now you didn’t know who he was anymore.

"I don’t know if I can trust you," you said, your voice shaking. "How do I know that you really care about me? Or if this is all just part of your plan?"

Max stepped closer, his expression softening. "I never meant for it to happen like this, but I do care. I swear to you, I do."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your emotions a tangled mess. You wanted to believe him, but could you? How could you be sure he wasn’t lying?

But before you could ask another question, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps; heavy, purposeful, coming down the hallway.

Max’s face hardened. "We don’t have time for this."

He turned to face the door, and you realized that whatever came next would change everything.

And as the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, you knew that your life, your future, was no longer in your hands.

 taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[evelynvipah]

I’ve been wanting to talk about how even Jinx is very ignorant, or just comes off as uncaring, to the extent of Vi’s trauma in regard to before her prison time and after. I’ve also always found it quite weird and unfunny how quick people were to make jokes and say that Jinx “clocked” Vi in the tunnels when they were searching for Vander and fought about what they were doing after all the time had passed.

Jinx has actively watched her sister lose herself for months without interference—with knowledge that she was thrown into Stillwater, facing things that Vi obviously isn’t going to be that vulnerable abt—knowing that they both share the intense childhood trauma of losing an entire family in one night, and still finding it within herself to make fun of Vi being passively suicidal is honestly horrible to me. Especially considering the position Jinx has nonstop been putting Vi in since they reunited. Yes, Jinx has been going through some traumatic things, but not once has she even stopped to think (that we’ve seen) of what her sister has been through for the past seven years. The guilt she must be harboring for things she should not have had anything to do with, or responsibility over.

There have been plenty scenes where Vi recounts bits and pieces of her experiences in Still and most times she not only downplays it for the sake of trying to help other people understand where her position on a situation is from, but goes unacknowledged. With Jayce, when she asks him if he knows what being trapped for days, months, or years in a stone box is like he changes the subject to talk about their plans to go against what the council thinks and be more active against Silco. And with Jinx, her own sister, it doesn’t go any further than Vi wanting to reassure her that she’s always been there thinking about her and hoping to someday find her way back. No one, even Ekko, truly tries to reach out to her in a way that validates her own trauma and how the many changes she’s been through so far is affecting her. It’s all about what she can do for them or what position she holds in their lives. And I don’t say that in a way of meaning that everyone should drop everything they’re doing to focus on her, but a little goes a long way. Vi speaking out about her own prison trauma in multiple conversations could be her subconsciously asking for someone to show her some support or care that she hasn’t been on the receiving end of in years. She’s Jinx’s family—her only family left really—and all Jinx does is constantly disrespect her and what she’s willing to do or put aside for her.

This is me ranting at 2am so it might not make much sense (needed to get this out here), but I really hate that Jinx says to her “I busted half of Zaun out of Stillwater while you were passed out in the bottom of a mug,” as if that makes her such a good and heroic person. Yes, Jinx doesn’t really feel like that, but for her to throw it in Vi’s face like the girl hasn’t been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders since she was a child is sickening.

Some may hate me for saying this but I really feel like so far the only person that has put more thought into Vi and what she’s ever gone through is Caitlyn. Caitlyn is the one who got Vi out of Stillwater and saw first hand her conditions. Caitlyn is the one that got to witness Vi’s world be turned upside down when she came back to Zaun and saw it’s all gone to shit. Caitlyn is the one that Vi told about Powder and her family and what it all meant to her. The amount of guilt and responsibility weighing on her shoulders over something she had no control over whatsoever. Being parentified by her own father figure and community, leaving her with no space to be a child. Caitlyn has stuck by her side when her sister was harming them directly too, seeing Vi as her own individual and not an extension of Jinx. Even when they separated, Caitlyn still managed to do some good thinking about Vi by forbidding the use of the cells on the lower levels of the prison because of how inhumane they were. To say that Vi had only known Caitlyn for such a short time, Vi had become Caitlyn’s everything real quick and I feel like it says something when compared to Vi’s strained relationship with Jinx. Or even Ekko, the only other person who would truly understand what Vi had been through and is still going through. Being the protector, being the savior, being someone that people feel can solve every last one of their problems. Jinx had a chance to really connect with Vi outside of saving Vander, and she chose to hurt Vi because she knew she could. She knew she wasn’t the only one with open wounds not even close to healing, and she couldn’t help but rub salt in the ones of her own sister to make herself feel better.

-rereading and this is all over the place but whatever loll

[pompomchihuahua]

So, I've seen a Twitter thread making the rounds about Yuichirou being in the right for not trusting Amane which you can read here. Overall, I think it nicely covered why Yuichirou was so "mean" to her: a strange woman shows up at their home trying to recruit two vulnerable 11-year-old boys who just lost their parents. She starts talking about demons and them being descended from swordsmen and being able to save people and in Muichirou's hopeful little heart it strikes a chord.

But Yuichirou says that he's certain she's just going to use them, that she's plotting something, which, from a story telling perspective, is an interesting seed to plant in the viewers mind.

What I mainly want to focus on in this thread is Kagaya Ubuyashiki, as he is the one who ultimately sends Amane to recruit the Tokitou twins (though, yes, she is complicit in the recruitment of child soldiers. The average age of soldiers in 1912 Japan was 17-20 not 11).

Putting aside that he ends up recruiting Muichirou anyway after he's made almost impossibly more vulnerable (just lost his last remaining family, critically injured, just lost his memories and also, once again, an 11 year old CHILD being coerced by an adult into fighting mythical monsters) Kagaya has a way of appearing to the Hashira at their most vulnerable moments to recruit them (aside from Rengoku who was basically born and raised into the role which is a whole other can of worms).

Another thing I'd like to point out is the cruelty and impracticality of final selection, something that is exemplified perfectly with Sabito. How many slayers with the potential to do something great's lives were wasted in final selection? Considering the sheer amount that goes in and how few come out and the lack of any kind of age limit, I'm going to guess quite a few. Why exactly is the system set up like this?

They essentially set up a demon buffet featuring children as the main course. Did they know about the demon growing out of control on the final selection grounds? Most likely, and if not that's highly irresponsible to not at least monitor your supposed testing grounds.

Why not have them fight against other, higher-level slayers? If they fail the test, they'd be sent back into training or dismissed entirely instead of just... killed. And Ubuyashiki seems fine with this! And I'm truly curious- he mentions memorizing the names of every slayer that dies in the line of duty, but does that include the dozens of people that don't even get to become official slayers because they die in the very baffling final selection meat grinder?

I'm getting off track.

What I mean is that Ubuyashiki is shown to have questionable moral decision-making when it comes to the pursuit of defeating Muzan: it seems his goal is to kill Muzan at all costs.

Later, Muzan says this: "That schemer! Like a viper, his rage and hatred toward me... was coiling inside his pitch-black heart!"

As the viewer we're, of course, meant to take this with a grain of salt. We know Ubuyashiki didn't have a "pitch-black heart," but I think there's a grain of truth to be found in Ubuyashiki harboring rage and hatred toward Muzan.

We know the reason the Ubuyashiki clan started to hunt Muzan in the first place was to save themselves from the curse (and along the way I think they genuinely believed it was for the greater good as well).

But I think it sets Ubuyashiki up as the perfect morally ambiguous foil to Muzan. Yes, he is supposed to represent humanity, but what is more human than the endless moral struggle between the greater good and what's right for the individual? Ubuyashiki points out that in the thousands of years of Muzan's existence, the corps has never been wiped out but this is because the corps inherently preys on those who are at their most vulnerable. It is built on the back of tragedy.

Everything down to even just their life span is meant to be equal but opposite from Muzan's immortality to the Ubuyashiki's ephemeral life spans. Even their clothing choice, with Muzan picking darker colors and Ubuyashiki clad in white. Muzan is beautiful and unmarred while Kagaya is consumed by the curse of their bloodline yet their appearance is described as "twin-like" in the Kimetsu extras. Yet they are also equal, once again returning to their supposedly identical features, they both have a tendency to appear to those that serve them at their most vulnerable.

This is not a "Kagaya is evil" post at the end of the day. This is a "Kagaya is not a morally pure character and that's a good thing" post. And, I think, had the author had more time, they would have explored this fully. We all know the ending was a tad bit rushed due to the author having a family emergency and I will never blame them for that, but just looking at the story they built even on that time crunch I can only imagine they narrative they could have built given unlimited time.

I feel like they could have explored Kagaya's character more which they set up as being Muzan's equal but opposite: equally scheming but thankfully on humanity's side. He had empathy for the children, yes, but he still, at the end of the day, used people at their most vulnerable to do what he couldn't on his own.

And I didn't even get to START on the implications of his magical "voice" and foresight powers, but this post is already so long that I'm gonna end it here.

TLDR: Ubuyashiki is so much more complex than your stock "Greater good" character. He's Muzan's equal but opposite force, conniving but empathetic, morally ambiguous. Had the author had more time, I feel this would have been explored in more depth.

[sysig]

Self-contradictory (Patreon)

[poppyseed799]

I have this problem that’s like the opposite of nostalgia or something where some things I remember liking a lot as a child I look back and only remember the bad times.

This is specifically about Animal Crossing, loved that game as a kid, but I have literally no idea why, cuz it was just pure hell for me from what I can remember.

[babycharmander]

(BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS)

I just finished reading The Book of Bill and I am kindof losing my mind over some of this stuff.

I had wondered if Alex Hirsch might make Bill sympathetic in some way and oh boy I was not expecting him to do it so successfully (and without cheapening Bill's character).

So, we learn that Bill was born into a 2D world... as a mutant who can see into the third dimension. He claims he was absolutely loved by all, but when talking about his powers, he mentions under Pyrokinesis:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane / Starting fires with his brain." The kids in grade school could be so cruel. But where are they now, huh? WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

So probably not quite as liked as he was letting on. To add to that, there's the silly straw page, which looks like silly nonsense until you decipher some of the codes:

"EYE DOCTOR OF A DIFFERENT KIND / WHO WANTS TO MAKE HIS PATIENTS BLIND" "THE DOCTOR SAYS / THREE SIPS A DAY / WILL MAKE THE VISIONS / GO AWAY"

I wasn't sure what this meant until I saw someone point out... he was seeing a third dimension that no one else could see. His parents probably took him to the eye doctor to try to "fix" him. Which, speaking of his eye doctor, the coded message in the section about human eyeballs says something interesting:

"MY OPTOMETRIST NEVER SAW IT COMING"

It could be a joke given beforehand he's talking about dissecting a human eye, but given the previous hints of medical abuse, I wouldn't put it past him that he tried to get revenge on his eye doctor.

Oh yeah and the whole thing about him setting his entire dimension on fire? Yeah it turns out it was entirely a mistake (he just wanted everyone to understand the third dimension he was seeing so they could be free of only two dimensions), he was so traumatized by it he blacks out when trying to recall it. He deeply, deeply regrets it, and...

"What? Your ENTIRE home dimension? destroyed? How? By what?" Bill looked distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him. "By a monster."

He sees himself as a monster.

And yet, he's not some innocent, misunderstood being. He still revels in causing pain and chaos. He's terrible in general, but becomes incredibly abusive toward Ford.

"YOU'RE MY PROPERTY. DON'T FORGET IT. The hillbilly abandoned you, your father won't want you returning without millions, you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?"

Which... speaking of him and Ford...

Yes, yes, I know people ship them. But like, whether you see their relationship as romantic or platonic (I see it as the latter), there's some interesting parallels to be made here.

Both Bill and Ford are mutants who were mocked for their being different. (Bill was not physically a mutant, as far as we know, but more in the sense of him having vision stronger than that of everyone else in his dimension, and also having special powers. And he does describe himself as a mutant.) Both became social outcasts, separated from their families but still haunted by them (Ford seeing commercials of Stan on TV and running across old photos of him and his brother, Bill being haunted by his family in some form). Neither could return home for one reason or another. Both more powerful than their peers (Ford intellectually, Bill in terms of actual powers). Both of them isolated and alone. (Yes, Bill does have the Henchmaniacs, but they seem like shallow friends, and only really seem to follow him out of a desire to have a place to party.)

Ford was not aware of most of this, aside from knowing that Bill could not go home because his dimension was destroyed. But Bill absolutely saw himself in Ford. There was no other person he tried to use whom he felt a stronger connection to.

And he actually seems to care about Ford--he actually gave him a birthday present, and when Ford didn't like it, he decided to get drunk and party with him instead to make up for it.

And then when Ford realizes what Bill's plan actually is and refuses to go along with it, and fights back no matter what Bill does, Bill completely breaks down.

After living for trillions of years, he met someone who was like him, and that person rejected him.

He goes berserk, wreaking havoc, being caught by the dimensional authority that he's been taunting for most of his life.

And then after dying and being cast out of hell for being too annoying, he winds up faced with the Axolotl, who sends him to therapy, where he continues to break down further, sending out the book in a desperate attempt to find someone, anyone who will help him break loose and wreak havoc once again.

"You have no friends, and if you died ... who would even miss you?"

I don't know, Bill. Who would even miss you?

In short,

[ID: The front and back of one of Bill's Valentines cards. On the front is a black void with Bill Cipher lying down without his hat, gazing blankly upwards, with the text "I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE" above him. On the back is a simple white "TO/FROM" in red, with a red outline illustration of Bill spontaneously growing a mouth and eating a realistic, bloody heart. /end ID]

[pavel-chekov-appreciator]

My interpretation of Unification is that when Kirk died, because he and Spock are literally one soul/Katra in two bodies, he can’t pass on without his other half.

So he’s being sent to fetch the missing piece of himself-but he doesn’t know right away that the missing piece is Spock. Just that there’s something missing he has to find first. That’s why we get that scene with the three different versions of himself. He doesn’t know quite what he’s looking for yet, so he’s first looking inward.

And yes, obviously it’s TOS Kirk and Movie Kirk because those are the Iconic Looks for the character, but also, within the story itself? I think he’s specifically seeing the two times in his life he lost Spock-right at the end of their first five year mission when Spock resigned, and then after Spock died in TWOK. Those are the two times in his life he had felt like a piece of himself went missing, and when he realizes that, Kirk immediately understands what he’s meant to do.

His missing piece is Spock.

[miharuki]

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖁𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖃 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 (𝕱𝖊𝖒) 2

You woke up with a headache, feeling your head throb painfully. For a moment, you really thought you were in your real-life home until you looked up and saw the bed canopy, adorned with fine, luxurious fabrics. A typical bed of ancient nobility, you couldn't even sit up without your head pounding from the pain. Who would have thought that crying so much could make you feel this bad?

In pain, you turned, now looking out of the bed. For a moment, you began to notice that the furnishings in the room were more refined, even though they were of a different color. You started to think that this room wasn't, in fact, yours. Looking at the door, you noticed the luxurious details that accompanied it, making you realize that you were neither in your real-life bedroom nor in your noble bedroom in this world.

You started to think a lot, which made your head hurt even more. But you finally managed to understand what happened last night and how you agreed to go with the young man. Now, finally turning to look at the ceiling, you sighed, knowing you were probably not in extreme danger and that being kidnapped was off the list since you had agreed to the situation.

Placing your hands on your face, you thought about the situation at the ball, now considering how your family in this world would probably disown you. What initially seemed like a simple matter turned out to be much worse. In this world, being disowned didn't just mean being removed from the family's inheritance; it meant being officially regarded as not part of the family at all. It was as if they erased you not only from their will but also from their lives. In more extreme cases, it could even mean being expelled from the house.

"Are you alright? You were quite warm last night; you had a fever," said a familiar voice. Turning, you confirmed it was the same young man from yesterday.

Forcing your aching body, you managed to sit up in bed, placing a hand on your forehead as the dizziness from the headache set in. "Yes, it's nothing serious. I apologize for my manners," you said. It was evident that simply lying in a bed that wasn't yours while the host stood by was considered almost impolite in this world.

"Liar… please, miss, don't push yourself too hard. You still seem unwell," the young man said, his voice calm and concerned. If you could look now, you would see the care and worry in his eyes.

"I've been sick many times before," you found yourself thinking, almost mocking your own situation. The boy seemed to sense your sadness and silence. He raised his hand and gently placed it on your shoulder.

He had already felt he was violating your space by touching you the night before, but the pain of seeing your sick body had pushed that feeling aside. Now, with you safe, he felt he needed your permission, but he couldn't help trying to comfort you, the same person who seemed broken and exhausted when he brought you here.

"Forgive me… you went to the trouble of bringing me to your home because of my actions. This is not appropriate behavior for a girl like me. I apologize profusely for invading your residence like this," you said, lowering your hands to your lap and bowing your head in a formal gesture of apology, even while lying in bed.

Nomura noticed that you referred to yourself merely as a girl, not as a lady, which would have been more appropriate. He understood that what happened yesterday had deeply wounded you, so much so that you began to see yourself as inferior, no longer worthy of being called a lady.

His free hand clenched into a fist as he thought about the castle and the ball from last night. He knew who was responsible for this, and he couldn't help but feel anger. At that moment, all he wanted was to drive a sword through the heart of the crown prince, the first prince, and especially his former best friend.

"Please do not apologize, miss. The events of last night were not your fault, and bringing you to my residence was my decision. I had every right to do so, especially when I saw you in such a vulnerable state," he said in a sweet and gentle tone. You turned your head to look at him, observing those kind eyes that looked at you as they had last night. But just making that movement caused your head to throb again, and you placed a hand on your head, wincing in pain. This made him place his hands on your back, gently guiding you to lie down on the bed.

"Please, miss, you are not in the best condition. Lie down and rest. I will accept nothing but your rest," he insisted. With your eyes squeezed shut from the pain, you allowed yourself to lie back down, sighing as you felt his touch slowly fade away.

Nomura watched as you complied, stepping back slowly. He looked at you with sadness before leaving the room. As he walked down the corridor towards his office, he couldn't help but look at the floor, feeling nothing but anger. Calmly, he entered his office and closed the door behind him. His teeth clenched in fury, and only one thought filled his mind: "I want to kill him!" Finally, he sighed, running his hands through his hair before sitting in his chair and looking up at the ceiling.

"Even after countless times, or timelines, you remain the same Prince Luka."

"Miss? Your tea." An maid entered the room with a cart carrying a teapot and a white porcelain cup. She sat down on the bed, and you were beginning to feel a bit better. Before you could say anything, the maid delicately placed a tray on your lap and set the cup on it.

You pondered for a moment. You couldn't stay here forever, even if your parents had disowned you. Eventually, you would have to return home just to gather your belongings, assuming your country in this game had indeed expelled you. If so, you needed to plan where to stay, especially since the Diamond Wars were looming.

"But what stage of the game are we in now? I mean, why should I worry? She's the protagonist and a princess, not me. She can handle things on her own," you thought to yourself as you glanced down at your lap. Your head still ached, but it was less intense compared to when you first arrived at the lord's house.

"Miss?" the maid's voice called out, and you lifted your head to look at her. She was pointing to the cup of tea. "Your tea, if you don't drink it, it will get cold." You turned your head, picked up the cup, and murmured a thank you before taking a sip. Lowering the cup, you continued to stare down, then glanced back at your lap.

"If I may ask, do you know of a good area where there might be houses? Preferably in the countryside," you asked calmly, surprising the maid with the sudden question.

"With all due respect, ma'am, why do you ask?"

"I need to find a place before I'm kicked out of home all because the protagonist is a little princess with her harem on her side, not to mention they humiliated me and literally labeled me a liar in front of high-status people and people from other regions," you thought of saying, but bit your tongue and shook your head. "Forget about what I asked," you said, looking down at the empty cup in your hands.

A few minutes of silence passed before the maid carefully took the cup and bowed respectfully before leaving with the cart.

"It's what she said," the maid recounted the situation to the man in front of her, who could only look thoughtfully out the window. "Poor Lady," Nomura thought, watching from the window as the carriage took you back to your home.

"I apologize, my lord, but do you think Lady might be considering moving away?" The thought of you being away from him was making him nervous.

"I need you to deliver a letter for me…"

pt1

"I'll possibly do Part 3."

@aiimee9 @chlov @uhkaey @notleclerc @taylorazureeee @sassykitkat22 @zuumaa @mononlogue @party-9 @endaculi @heartless-tate @mel-vaz @poptrim @kitty-chan33 @surprisemodafakas @reni502 @slowlysweetnightmare @hotnbloodied @yandereoverlord @mel-star636 @aphrodit333 @hotvinimon  @cupidsgift @bien-bonjour14 @l0v3rrl @heraxochi @yamekocatt @lovorette @acenby-weirdo @kisalovesoobin @wutap @ron000 @lazydelusionsimp @kthehoeforfictionalmen @forbidden-sunlight @bubbles2416 @rosegracewood09 @b2mmyy

@julietdelamare @snowlotr @kitkatmochi @happydeertraveler @lem-hhn @crazytacokoala @mitzukichan18 @hey-im-bored504 @resident-cryptid @thefbiiswatching @beardedblizzardexpert @mymemd @smilefortae @emperatris-rinaka

@pinkrose1422

[ellecdc]

no fondling in the dog house

Sirius Black x fem!reader who has to pick him up from the kennel [1.1k words]

CW: talk about fondling bollocks, a police station, Sirius being the least serious person, a good humoured argument between partners, threats of neutering/castration

“Now, ma’am, you are aware that under the highway code, dogs must be kept on a lead?”

“Yes sir.” You offered as earnestly as you could, though you couldn’t help the indignance that coloured your voice at the fact that you were the one being scolded for this misdemeanour right now. 

“And that they must be accompanied by their owner.” The enforcement officer continued, cocking an unimpressed eyebrow at you for your insolence. 

“Of course; I really am sorry, sir.” You offered more sincerely; you were really very sorry that you were here at all. 

“They’re also meant to be microchipped by the time they are 8-weeks old.” He continued, sifting through the numerous documents you signed after proving that the large black dog that had been picked up by muggle animal control did, indeed, belong to you. 

“Oh, he’s going to be microchipped alright.” You grumbled, adding a quiet “gonna look at having him neutered, too” under your breath. 

The officer ignored you as he called to his coworker to bring the stray out. 

“What did you say his name was again?”

But before you had a chance to answer, his coworker let out a surprised ‘oof’ when you heard the sound of paws galloping down the kennel hall before a large, long-haired black dog came barrelling through the doorway and sat excitedly at your feet.

“Padfoot.” You offered reproachfully, both in answer to the enforcement officer you just spent the past forty minutes being chastised by and in greeting to your boyfriend who was officially in the dog house. 

Padfoot offered you a bark back in response; the enforcement officer still seemed rather displeased with the both of you, but the kennel attendant let out a pleased laugh at the exchange. 

“What the fuck?” You asked the dog, to which he responded by nuzzling against your hand with his snout. You gently shoved it away from you. 

“He’s really quite a well behaved dog.” The attendant offered, either missing the disbelieving and reproving looks from both you and the enforcement officer respectively, or choosing to ignore them. “Usually strays are all stressy and anxious, but he sat patiently during intake and followed me right to the kennel without any hesitation.”

Padfoot looked between you and the attendant as if saying “did you hear that? I was good!” whilst you and the officer both stared at them a little bit longer before you ultimately broke the silence. “Yeah,” you deadpanned, “I’m sure he was a real treat.” 

“Don’t forget to invest in a tag for him.” The officer called as you slid a collar and lead onto Padfoot.

“Will do, officer. I really am sorry for all of this. I swear, it will not happen again.” 

Seemingly appeased, he waived you off, and you and Padfoot exited the police station. 

You dropped the lead and let Padfoot drag it himself as you turned down the alleyway - nearly snapping your wand with the force you used to tap the enchantment that brought you back to the magical side of London - and stepped right into Diagon Alley. 

“Baby-”

“Oh don’t you baby me, Sirius.” You hissed as you turned on your heel to glower at your boyfriend; you watched his cupid’s bow flatten as he folded his lips over his teeth in an attempt to keep from laughing, though you were pleased that the furrowing of his brows and the fact that he was wringing the collar and lead between his hands let you know he was at least somewhat contrite. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me?”

“Uhm, I think it was a little bit more embarrassing for me, doll. The intake form asked if I was altered or not, which ultimately saw that attendant fondling my bollocks.”

“Oh, and I’m sure you hated that.” You spat as you turned on your heel, fighting against the smile that threatened to take over your face at Sirius’ bark of laughter. 

“Baby, I’m sorry. You know you’re the only one I like fondling my bollocks.” He laughed as he jogged to catch up to you.

“Yeah well, it won’t be happening any time soon, I can tell you that much for free.” 

“Oh come now.” 

“What were you even doing!?” You asked then, stopping in the spot and nearly causing Sirius to collide with you. 

“I may have said something to James, Remus, and Pete about how stags love Padfoot, and they argued that Prongs didn’t exactly count as a stag, so I wanted to prove them wrong.”

“They dared you, didn’t they?” You surmised, hearing Sirius’ half truth for what it was.

“It wasn’t so much of a dare as it was a scientific experiment-”

“Sirius.”

“Okay! Okay, yes, they dared me. So, I figured I’d head over to Richmond Park and befriend myself a stag. I would have, too! If that fuckin’ auror hadn’t gone and foiled my plan.”

“They’re called officers, Sirius.” You corrected darkly. “You were caught by muggle officers.” 

“Why do you think you had to pick me up!?” Sirius exclaimed then. “I couldn’t very well turn back into myself and explain the situation away. And you know I’m pants at obliviation.” 

“Shame.” you huffed as you carried on towards Gringotts. “I was hoping you could obliviate this entire memory for me.”

“I would, too. Better than being stuck in the dog house.” Sirius muttered, though you could hear the smile in his voice. “Where are we going?”

“The bank.”

“Why?” 

You halted in your quest again, this time causing Sirius to trip in his attempt to avoid slamming into you. “You owe me - I had to bail you out, Sirius! They charged me fines; I have a record now.” 

“Completely fair, doll. I’ll be right back.” He agreed, pressing a kiss to your cheek that had you pretending to shove him away before he started towards the bank. 

“And take out enough to buy yourself a collar and a tag with my contact information on it!” You shouted, pausing before you added “And enough for ice cream!”

“Consider it done, babe. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” you called as you started walking towards Flourish and Blotts, “you’re getting microchipped.”

You didn’t need to turn around to know that Sirius was looking at you quizzically. “What’s a microchip?” He called as you kept walking. “Babe? Oi, babe! What’s a microchip!?”

[auroracalisto]

with all the power in oz

movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 2.2k words summary: the reader, rather anxious and studious, finds their self head-over-heels with none other than fiyero, supposed boyfriend to galinda upland. to placate this, they somewhat agree to meet him at the ozdust ballroom. a/n: YOU pronouns are used to address the reader, but there is no usage of y/n. just watched the movie today. tried to find a fic, couldn't. here I am writing one instead. reader worries a lot. so me. you're welcome. also, I'm going into this blind. I have unfortunately never seen the actual musical (downsides to living in the middle of nowhere) so I'm only going off based on wikis and the movie. it should be gn as I read through it like... five different times, but please let me know if I missed something!

Breathtaking. That's what he was. But could you truly refer to a man like him as breathtaking?

The very features that graced his face were absolutely mesmerizing, and you felt like a fool watching him at times. How could you not? He seemed so full of life, so full of... well, not a care in the world, really. It was as if he brushed everything off of his shoulders without hesitation.

You could only wished you were the same way.

No cares, no worries. How lovely that would have been.

No, you hold onto the things that happen to you as if you have no other way to live. You hold grudges, you think over things that happened years ago that no one could possibly remember.

For someone who wished to be a sorcerer, you had a hard time simply letting things go. Your emotions often got the better of you, even when you knew better. Even when you wished it could be the opposite. But perhaps that was the way of the world.

Not a man in Oz could tell you otherwise.

Books in hands, you crossed the path to your dormitory, brows cinched together in mild concentration.

You had a project in your history class, and an extensive paper to complete on the study of mathematics—of all the things you could have had, a paper in mathematics. You'd rather perform magic in front of the entire student body, but you couldn't.

As you walked, you heard your name come from behind you. Eyes flicker back, a soft frown on your lips. You see him—Fiyero. The one fool you meant to avoid with all the gumption within you.

You'd melt just being near him.

"Fiyero," you softly greet.

He gave you a charming smile, coming up to walk with you. "Heading back already?" he asked.

"I am."

"Working on the project, hm? We could work on it together if you'd like. I'm sure our minds could do wonders," he said, a playful wink coming from him.

"I'm fine," you simply said.

He blinked slowly, but his smile never wavered. "Come now," he said, your name leaving his lips rather sweetly. "Surely you're not going to spend the rest of your evening alone. Why don't you come to Ozdust tonight?"

You looked back at him, frowning. "Ozdust. Me. I don't think so, Fiyero."

"And why not? I'm sure you'd be as dashing as ever."

You stopped in your steps, eyes searching his for but a moment. "Dashing. Are you in earnest, Fiyero?"

"Yes," he said, smiling.

"And what of Galinda? You'll be with her. Why invite me?"

"She doesn't need to know. It's not her business," he said. "Besides, she will be busy with Elphaba. I'd much rather spend time with you."

"And I think you're just pulling my leg," you said defensively. You crossed your arms over your chest, careful to keep your books close.

"Pulling your leg? I haven't even touched you," he said, a cheeky grin on his lips. "Come now, don't play coy. You should come."

"And if I do?"

"Then I'll be quite happy."

You rolled your eyes and went to walk away.

A hand wrapped around your bicep, and you paused, glancing over your shoulder at him.

His eyes widened a bit and he dropped his hand, albeit hesitantly. Perhaps he didn't think he would actually reach out to you. He cleared his throat.

"I really would like you to be there. You'll have the time of your life."

"The time of my life," you repeated. "I don't think you realize how much I dread parties."

"Have you ever been to one?"

"No."

"Then how do you know you dread them?"

"I just know," you said. "I feel it in my bones. I know going will just get on my nerves."

He scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. "I think you're foolish for that," he said. "Come on. What are you losing? A couple hours to work on a project that you know you could finish in a morning session? You'll be fine. Come to the Ozdust tonight. I'll show you a good time."

You clenched your jaw. "I don't want—"

"—I would like you to be there. That is all. I won't ask again." He gave you another small smile before he looked away. "I'll see you around. Perhaps tonight?"

You stared him down. He would like to see you there? Was he being honest? And what of Galinda? Would he be going behind her back? Wasn't he madly in love with her, or something? Or was it the other way around?

He said your name once more, and you looked up at him, letting out a soft sigh.

"Right. Perhaps tonight," you softly said.

The smile on his lips was rather... hopeful than anything else. There wasn't anything smarmy by it. He seemed as genuine as the glint in his eye—the one he used when he spoke with anyone he trusted. At least, you hoped so.

The night came quickly as you finished up your outfit—one you would hope you didn't look completely foolish in. The color you chose seemed to fit well with almost anything, but you still worried. You always worried about something.

Time was of the essence. You weren't even supposed to leave Shiz University's campus, but here you were, sneaking like some scoundrel.

Well, perhaps you were, listening to the requests of a man who already had a girlfriend—a fantastically beautiful one at that.

But you paid no mind. You did what you could, and soon, you found yourself walking down the steps of the Ozdust Ballroom.

Never had you been in a place like this. It was almost... breathtaking, had it not been for the overpowering smells of perfume and some kind of drink wafting from the bar. Your eyes flitted from patron to patron until you finally spotted him—Fiyero.

He looked just as handsome as ever.

Good Oz, what in the world were you doing? This was foolish.

You took a step back, staring at Fiyero for a moment as he spoke with another man, drink in hand. You needed to leave. This was ridiculous. You were ridiculous! Never in a thousand years would you ever imagine yourself to do such a thing—

"You made it!"

Fiyero's voice rang out above the music.

You look to him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Because of course he saw you as soon as you had decided to leave.

Fiyero smiled and made his way to you, taking your hands in his, drink left with the confused man behind him. Surely he didn't just up and leave in the middle of his conversation.

You part your lips and go to speak, but to your dismay, Fiyero is instant.

"I was afraid you had changed your mind," he said. "You look ravishing, darling."

Your eyes widened. Ravishing? You'd been called many things in your life, but never ravishing.

"Galinda couldn't make it?" you asked.

"Wha—no, she couldn't. But what of it? I didn't ask her to the Ozdust, I asked you. I'm glad to see your face."

Warmth blossomed in your cheeks as you watched him. "Fiyero, please... I shouldn't be here."

"Oh, nonsense," he said, grinning all the while. "Come. Dance with me."

"But I don't—"

"—do not say you don't dance. I can teach you."

"Teach me?"

"It's as easy as breathing," he said.

"For you, maybe, but not for—"

"—humor me," he said, smiling.

You pursed your lips. Of course he had to give you that charming smile and the sweet bat of his eyelashes.

"I do not dance," you repeated.

"I think I will be the judge of that."

He grabbed your hands once more and pulled you out into the ballroom floor, smiling all the while.

"You'll be a natural. I can just see it."

"I feel like if I were a natural, you wouldn't have to teach me," you said, gasping as he pulled you close to his chest. His face was dangerously close to yours, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

"You know," he began, eyes flickering back to your eyes. "We all start somewhere, do we not? You should know that better than anyone."

"What? What does that—"

He interrupted you by spinning you by your arm, back into his embrace. The music was rather ambient, not quite one for dancing so enthusiastically, but Fiyero embraced it. Hand to your hand, face close to your face.

"See? A natural."

"You merely spun me around, Fiyero. Do not be foolish."

"You could have fell flat on your face," he said, a boyish grin evident on his lips.

"Stop looking at me like that," you defiantly said. "You are far too close to me for my liking."

"Oh, feisty, are we?" he asked, moving his body along to the music and forcing you to go along, too. You nearly stepped on his toes several times. "I do not think there is anything wrong with the way I'm looking at you. You're rather breathtaking, if I may."

Breathtaking. The same way you had described him only hours before. He wasn't a mind reader, was he?

No.

Of course not. That was foolish. He was merely a man. Nothing of great importance—no power within him other than the power he held in every single eyelash as they batted down at you, making you melt over and over again.

"What of Galinda?" you repeated.

"What of her?"

"You shouldn't be calling someone who isn't yours breathtaking. It's quite..."

"There is nothing wrong with admiring the beauty in front of me," he said, your name playfully leaving his tongue. "Look at me. Galinda and I are only friends."

You rolled your eyes. "Do not lie to me."

His eyes widened a bit. "Lie? I do not lie. We are friends and nothing more. Though I do believe she thinks differently..."

"She must," you said, huffing softly.

"But that does not make it true. I have eyes for someone else."

"Eyes for someone else?"

He tilted his head once more. He was rather endearing when he did that.

"Who did I ask to their very first party?" he asked, smiling. "It's quite a feat, isn't it? Afraid you wouldn't show, and then you do, questioning me and everything I stand for, hm?"

Warmth found its way to your cheeks once more. You looked away from him. With the crescendo of the music, Fiyero pulled you closer, fingers lacing with yours. His lips hover dangerously close to yours.

"You know, if you would just give it a chance, perhaps you and I could make some magic of our own."

You let out a curt laugh. "You—oh, good Oz, I hope you never use that line on anyone! Has that worked for you before?"

He gave a cheeky smile. "It seems like it's working on you."

"Absolutely not!"

"Not even a little!"

"No!"

His smile only seemed to grow. "Truly?"

You looked away, swallowing thickly. "I mean... no. Not even a little. Not at all."

"You're lying," he said.

"I am not."

"I do think I know what I'm talking about," he said, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to the soft skin of your cheek. "Come now," he said. "Stop with the lies."

You looked up at him, a soft huff escaping you.

"Fine. I lied. It may or may not be working. But it's not just because of what you said."

"Oh? Are you saying you like me for more than my suave words?"

"Suave words? Who in Oz said they were suave?"

He just smiled, his eyes flickering to your lips once more. "Do you think instead of just a dance, I could try something more?"

"Try what?"

"I think you know."

You blinked slowly at him, your fingers gently gripping onto his tunic. Your lips part in mild surprise, but you realize that you shouldn't have been. He'd been eyeing you the entire evening.

"Very well," you softly said.

"Wonderful," he replied, and in a swift motion, he pressed his lips to yours. It was short as he pulled back almost as soon as he had kissed you, but it was enough to keep you wanting more.

"Fiyero, that wasn't—"

"—come with me," he softly said, lacing his fingers with yours once more. "Somewhere without so many prying eyes, yes?"

Your answer was almost instant: "Yes."

Fiyero led you back up the staircase, and he didn't look back once at the ballroom.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"Somewhere where I can see you and only you," he said. "If that's alright."

"Oh," you softly said. "Yes. That's alright."

"Then follow me," he said. "Do you trust me?"

You smiled sincerely for one of the first times in the evening. Did you trust him? What kind of foolish question was that? If you had the chance, you'd do whatever he'd ask of you. You found your answer rather quickly, knowing within yourself that it was far truer than any other statement you had ever uttered.

"With all the power in Oz."

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ stick with me ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by anonymous ˚₊ ⊹

ft. kang sae-byeok x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ finding out you’re also participating in the games & staying by your side throughout┊1.6k words

contains: mentions of canon-typical violence, open ending, season one spoilers, headcanons mainly, established relationship, sunshine (& kinda naive) x grumpy trope, sae-byeok being protective & the best gf, all of this is a little rambly like word vomit i hope you don’t mind

➤ author's note: squid game felt so empty without her like i adore all of the new women in season two but i missed her so much T-T

╰₊✧ even if she doesn’t show it through her expressions, she’s really upset to find you in this situation— not because she’s mad at you, but because she’s mad at herself. she wonders what kind of awful girlfriend she must be not to have noticed you were struggling through debt like she was. now that she thinks about it, she realizes how painfully obvious it was with your strange behavior when it came to working any freelance job you saw a sign of (you weren’t a pickpocket like her, you would never commit any crime intentionally), and being overall stingy when it came to spending money on yourself. she might unintentionally give you the silent treatment for the first few hours simply because she feels terrible about it all but still doesn’t want you to leave her side despite that.

“are you mad at me because i didn’t tell you?” you whined, sticking by her side like a baby duckling with its mama and gently holding on to her arm because she wasn’t looking at you. “sae-byeok… i just didn’t want you to worry about me when you already had so much on your plate…”

she merely blinked in response, stone-faced like usual, making it impossible to determine what was going through her mind. there was a sinking feeling in her chest, the feeling of failing one of the few people she cared about.

“it’s okay… i get it… i’ll give you some space— just come look for me when you wanna talk, i’m going to talk with some of the other people here…” 

she suddenly grabbed you by the hand and dragged you back before you could move away, wrapping her arm around your waist in a protective manner, “no, i’m not mad at you, i promise. just stick with me, okay? i wouldn’t trust anyone here if i were you.” yes, the majority of people here seemed to be middle-aged people who were simply down on their luck. no, she didn’t believe there weren’t any bad ones who would easily take advantage of your kindness in such a large group of people.

you didn’t seem to quite understand what she meant in the last part, but you still cheerfully pulled her in for an embrace once she confirmed she wasn’t upset as you always did when a miscommunication was cleared up. (you didn’t see it, but she cracked a little smile when she hugged you back.)

╰₊✧ pushes you away the second she spots deok-su and quickly tells you to stay away while he confronts her about a past you didn’t know much about, making a scene in front of everyone and progressively getting more aggressive towards her. of course, once he makes his first swing, you immediately run in and start yelling at him to leave her alone when there were clearly more pressing issues at hand. when gi-hun interrupts because he wants to also confront her about something, you had to restrain yourself from pushing him away because you were a pacifist at heart and had been taught to respect your elders no matter what all your life. 

╰₊✧ later when you two join the little alliance gi-hun formed, she makes them keep an eye on you if she has to part from you for any reason. she knows that bastard would make a beeline for you the second he sees you alone, and that bastard isn’t above playing dirty by hurting you or holding you hostage to get leverage on her. the guys find this to be so goddamn adorable and frequently tease sae-byeok for her obvious soft spot towards her girlfriend because they can tell she’s flustered despite how indifferent she may look. listening to you talk about her reminds them that she’s just another young woman who is trying to care for her loved ones and not the shady thief who works with gangsters they once thought she was. they also defend you guys from anyone being homophobic and swear that they will attend your wedding once they get out alive, noting they likely won’t have money for gifts after all the reward money goes toward paying off debt, but you tell them you would appreciate their presence anyway!

╰₊✧ after the first game when they vote all go home, she wants to make you swear on your life that you don’t ever go back to that dangerous place, but she knows how unrealistic that is. she now knows about the crippling debt you both have and it wouldn’t be long before the loan sharks will hunt you down to force you to do terrible things to pay it back. so on the last day of staying on the korean mainland, she coughs up the money to pay for a nice last date before the two of you willingly enter what you believe to be the closest thing earth has to hell.

╰₊✧ instead of the dangerous, loner vibe she has in the original, when she has you by her side, she has the aura of a mama bear— which is fitting considering you’re like a little cub. she’s very protective of you and gives everyone a look that says “hurt her and i’ll kill you” to shut down any possible schemes before they start and helps you out during all of the games because she doesn’t want to risk anything happening to you. it might feel a bit infantilizing to you, but she’s just so terrified at the concept of you getting injured or worse.

red light, green light - keeps you behind her at all times, verbally reminding you not to panic even though she can sense you freaking out. might even hold your hand and guide you through it all, telling you to close your eyes and ignore the sound of bullets as she pulls you through the finish line. 

sugar honeycombs - tells ali to keep you company while she goes into the bathroom to sneak around the vents (he’s your best friend, by the way, the energy is immaculate) and immediately has you pick the triangle shape when lining up (there isn’t too much she needs to do because it’s one of the easier games for you to do).

special game (night of murder) - wants you to hide under the bunkbeds at first, a good idea until people started tipping them over. it’s difficult to find you with the lights flickering and with deok-su after her, so she has you met up with everyone else at gi-huns bed to protect each other. this battle is also likely the first time you cause bodily harm to someone else in self-defense, which will probably fuck you up especially if they are found dead later on. you’ll have some minor injuries, maybe a fractured rib or some cuts, but you’re still alive and that’s all that matters to sae-byeok.

tug of war - might look annoyed at your optimism to win with all the women and the old man on your team, but trust me, she really appreciates it since she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you suddenly shut down and because you seem to keep their heads ups with your infectious smile. there’s not much she could do to help you out here as it’s a team effort, but she was half-tempted to bribe you into a team with all men just in case (and also because you looked like you were about to start a fight with sang-woo over him insisting that they needed more men and wanting to kick ji-yeong off the team) yet ultimately decided against it which turned out to be the best decision. 

╰₊✧ the games strengthen your relationship through all of the blood and trauma, sticking together through it all and taking care of each other in the lowest moments. you two often share food and sometimes even sleep in the same bed if the other needs comfort, which would be very cute if your hands weren’t constantly trembling from fear and your skin didn’t have little specks of dried blood all over. sae-byeok is tough and has seen her share of violence, but it was all things she was trying to hide from you and keep you safe from ever since she entered this relationship with you. no matter how much you try to assure her that you can handle it, the sinking feeling of failure never leaves her.

“i’m… i’m really scared…” you sighed, cuddling yourself into her side. the barracks were so quiet you could hear a pin drop, yet there was the almost suffocating looming fear of death haunting the place knowing so many souls died within these walls. it always felt so cold even under the blankets with the powerful air-conditioning, but the warmth radiating off of sae-byeok’s body felt like a sanctuary. 

“i know, i know,” she assured. there was a part of her that wanted to admit that she was scared too as she rubbed circles into your back to ease you to sleep, she didn’t dare to even think of her biggest fear in case it manifested into reality. she wouldn’t know what to do with herself in case it came true, so she chose to bury the thought of it deep down where she prayed it would never show itself again.

she dreams of winning these games with you, using the money to pay off all your debts, helping her mother escape north korea, to go towards her brother’s future, to helping the both of you start new lives where you both were accepted— all things she thinks of to push back all of the dark thoughts and help her sleep in your arms, forever by your side.

request was [ Please could you do something about saebyeok x gf!reader? where they both went to the games 😪😪]

[zentraex]

Summary: You made a lot mistakes in your new job, but do you regret them? Nope, not a bit. But who can blame you for it? If you wouldn't have done them, you never would have met this pretty boy.

Remember: German Grammar is a lot different then English grammar. I apologize for any mistakes.

Pairing: Francis Mosses (doppelganger) x gn! Reader

(A/N): I usually write for mha, but this men dominates my fyp on TikTok and I can't stop grinning like an idiot about all this fanarts. My men is just too attractive for his own good. Nevertheless, Tumblr has too few fanfictions for him, so I had to do it myself. Still, I am not that proud about how it turned out. It certainly sounded better in my head, but I don't care. One shitty fanficion is better than none.

Art by @asteriscks on TikTok

This game is not mine, but Ignacio Alvarado. I also used phrases from the game.

Mistakes? Yes, but no regrets.

It's been a week since you started working for D.D.D as a doorman. 

You can remember your first day so well, it could have been yesterday. 

Well... probably because your life is constantly at stake. 

_

It started with a mistake that you ended up here. It was completely unexpected since you always made sure, that you sent your rent to the right account. 

Surely no one can blame you for a small typo, right?

Well, your landlord, who kept pounding on your door until you woke up, surely did.

"What?" you asked, annoyed, as you opened the door.

"When do you plan to finally pay your bill? The date has already been overdue for two weeks!" he complains. 

What?

"Sorry, but I've already transferred my money to you."

"Well, I didn't get anything. Do you still have the receipt for the transfer?"

"No..."

You already knew what that meant: double payment.

"Look, today, I'll transfer it to your account again, okay? If it doesn't work this time, it's not my fault."

You were about to close the door, but your landlord had other plans when he held the door open with his foot.

 "No no no. You will give me the money now. I don’t trust you. Why would you transfer it to me today, when it should have happened two weeks ago. You will give it to me now."

Your eyes widened. 

Now?

"But I don't have that much money in my hand? Who's got that?"

"Then I'll have to kick you out for now. But don't worry, no one is going to buy an apartment here anytime soon, so you can move right back in as soon as you give me the money."

Staring stunned at his smiling face you could have sworn you were about to hit him. 

"The keys?" 

With watery eyes, you grabbed your keys, placed them in his outstretched hand, and frowned.

What kind of person had such sharp fingernails as he does?  

You were sure that he could definitely have stabbed someone with them.

Thank God, I didn't hit him. 

"When do you plan to give me the money? I've heard that all banks closed today. Some kind of holiday among them, I've heard."

What!?

How were you going to get through the day today? You intentionally left everything in your apartment since you were so sure that you could have given the money to your landlord in a matter of minutes. 

"You’re telling me this now!?"

"If you had paid, you wouldn’t need to know." 

That filthy bastard.

No matter how angry you were at that moment, your panic was overweighting.  

What were you going to do now? 

Shit.

"Man, I really wouldn't want to be in your situation...", the landlord murmured.

Fuck the nails- This guy deserves a punch.

Just as you raised your fist, he speaks again.

"But maybe we can agree on something.

Then you stopped. 

"The D.D.D., which is responsible for the safety of all residents in this area, is looking for doormans. Ours has recently...quitted, which is why we are urgently looking for one. They pay three times the amount of your rent in a week. If you take the job, I can overlook your sloppiness this time."

Three times your rent? In a week? And for what? To sit there and check a few documents. You'd be crazy not to take the offer! 

"Okay. I'll do it. Where can I apply?"

"Don't worry, I'll sort it out for you. Tomorrow, you can start”

_

Looking back, it should have been clear to you that something was wrong. Starting with the sudden his sudden threat, the fingernails and this stupid story about the holiday of the banks. 

Maybe it was just because you were too panicked at that moment to think rationally.

But let’s be true here: when are you thinking rationally? If you did, you would certainly have quitted after your first day.

_

"Welcome and congratulations on your new job."

After watching the short video, a man in the yellow suit came to your window. You are so shocked that you can’t even answer.

I'm going to die today!

After all, you know it yourself: you're too gullible for the job. There's no chance you'll unmask a doppelganger who copies someone well.

“As you could see on the introductory film, your job is to verify the entry of the neighbors of your building. Each day there will be a list of individuals who will request entry to the building. It is possible that there are individuals who request entry and aren’t on the list. In which case you will mark on the checklist that they are not on the list and proceed to question the individual. Also, you must verify that the ID and the entry reqest are correct and have the respective D.D.D. logo. Don’t forget to also check the expiration on the IDs. Remember it’s Febuary 1955."

Your gaze wanders to the note that was stuck to the wall. 

Arnold Schmicht F02 – 01

Anastacha Mikaelys F02 – 04

Robertsky Peachman F01 – 02

Steven Rudboys F03 – 03 

Mia Stone F03 – 01

Rafttellyn Cappuccin F03 – 04

Admittedly, you don't know any of your neighbors, neither by character nor really by sight. You were never the type to care about your neighbors. 

"I wish you good luck."

C’mon Reader, be like Henry…

But better.

The first inhabitant was Mia Stone and you already started to sweat.

"Good evening."

Was she real? Was she a doppelganger? 

With shaky hands, you reached for her ID and entry pass, only to find that everything was fine. She was also on today's list and her appearance doesn't show any deviations either, right?

Just to be sure, you looked into the folder that described her appearance: 

Long hair

Small round nose

She has freckles

...

...

...

Freckles?

Your eyes wandered again to the woman in front of you, who was waiting patiently behind the window. 

You narrowed your eyes a little and leaned forward to get a better view of her.

No matter how long you stared at her, you didn't see them, her freckles. 

"You look different...", you murmur after a while.

"What's wrong with my appearance? I think everything is fine with my appearance."

Her photo on her ID and Entry Pass both have no freckles. 

Perhaps a mistake on the part of the D.D.D.? 

You're about to press the green button, but then you see her grinning slightly out of the corner of your eye. 

Shit. 

She almost had you. You're really not made for this job.

Your hand slammed hard against the red button, causing the siren to blare and the metal window to crash down. 

"3312," you murmur to yourself.

"You have contacted the D.D.D.. A group of agents has been sent to your building. Please wait for the cleaning protocol to run."

Cleaning protocol? 

What happens to those who were cleaned? They certainly won't be killed, will they? 

What if they will?

What if your judgment was wrong?

What if...

Your thoughts were interrupted as the siren fell silent and the metal window went up, only to reveal the yellow man.

"Cleaning protocol completed. You can continue your job."

It took a while until someone finally came again. 

This time, your heart was pounding faster. Significantly faster. And this time, you can't even say for sure that it's all out of fear. 

Milkman...

You definitely can't deny it: he's probably one of the most attractive men you've ever seen. 

You don't even have to look at today's checklist to tell he's not on it – a face like his would have caught your eye right away. 

"Francis Mosses, huh?" you murmured to yourself as you looked at his ID. "You're not on today's list."

"I’m not on today’s list because I had to leave due to an emergency."

Long nose

Thin chin

Tired eyes

Short hair

Wears a hat

It all fit. The only thing left now was a call. 

Just as you began to spin the wheel of the phone, he said, "You're new here, aren't you? I've never seen you here before."

"Yes, today is my first day."

"Must be hard, huh? I've heard that more and more doppelgangers are appearing and they are becoming more and more error-free. It would be a shame if such a pretty face as yours were to disappear forever."

Your cheeks turn red and suddenly you feel shyer than you actually are.

"B-But your job has to be hard as well. I didn't think that being a milkman would rob you so much sleep."

Francis smiles a little. So little that you almost didn't see it at all.

"It's not. I just stay up for a very long time. If you like, I can bring you some milk sometime. It's refreshing, calms the nerves."

You bite your lip slightly when you have to refrain from a question.

What milk do you mean exactly?

My God, why were you just such a sucker for handsome men?

"I'd be delighted, Francis."

You talked to him for a while and you quickly forgot that you were actually going to call someone. 

"I'd like to talk to you more, but I don't want to stop you from your work. I'll see you tomorrow, right, Reader?"

And you quickly forgot that you never told him your name. 

You pressed the green button.

_

"Shh," whispered the voice of Francis next to your ear. 

It was your third day, your third time to change shift.

Well, it usually would have been.

Your vision and mouth were blocked by the bloody hands of the doppelganger who claimed to be Francis.

He had killed the doorman, that should have taken over your shift.

You had to admit, that you were more than inconsiderate. After all, you didn't ask for his entry pass, nor the reason why he wasn't on today's list.  

"I'll let you go now, yeah? No wrong move, okay?"

He laughed softly as he released his hands from you and turned your chair, so you were facing him. 

"We don't want to hurt you, do we, Reader?"

The sentence shouldn't have given you hope, because after all, you were more than sure that you were going to die one way or another.

Maybe you should have shown a little resistance. For your honor, but....

Oh?

He is so close to you that you can practically feel his body heat. Or was it your own? Your face, despite your situation, was burning. 

Even though he said he was letting you go, his hands ran over your body and you couldn't deny that it did something to you. 

Were you so shameful?

"Actually, I wanted to wait, but I couldn't take it anymore.  I've been patient long enough, haven't I? It was so much work for me, to let you get this job."

You didn't know what to say. Honestly, you didn't know if you would even be able to answer him. 

His breath touched your throat as he spoke, "I think I deserve this, don't I? What do you say, Reader? Do I deserve my reward?”

If you were going to die anyway, why not enjoy the last few minutes?

Regardless of whether he was a doppelganger, he had lived up to his title as "Mlikman" that night.

_

"You killed the real Francis Mosses?" you asked the next day. 

Francis grins, almost so much so that his real form was threatening to show itself.

"Yes, of course. What would have happened if he had come before me? You would have sent the D.D.D. after me."

Well, he had a point, huh?

No matter how wrong it was, you were glad it didn't come to that. 

You didn't know the real Francis Mosses. That's probably why his death was so insignificant to you.

"Have you killed more people?"

"Just more doppelgangers you let through."

Your eyes widened. 

You were so sure you caught them all. The false success was the reason why you didn't quit…well, it was one of the reasons.

"How many have I let through?"

Francis just continues to wear his smirk as he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

"Don't rack your pretty head over it, okay?"

You just nod, smiling.

"Are you going to kill others...?

You don't know why you added your next question. Probably because you wanted to feel special. 

"Would you kill for me?"

"Hooooonn"

When you turn your gaze to his face, two white pupils stared at you and his grin is inhumanly wide and black. 

You don't know if it's joyful or sadistic, but it definitely made you feel special.

_

Looking back, you made more than a few mistakes. 

But honestly? 

You don't regret a single one of them. After all, all of them have led to an all-too-familiar knock on your window.

When you look up, he waves, the milkman. 

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons

I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere

You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”

Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”

He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.

The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."

Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.

"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."

As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.

"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"

He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.

The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.

He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.

"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."

He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.

He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.

Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.

The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.

He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.

After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.

His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.

[satoruhour]

HIS FAVOURITE W— STUDENT !

a/n: dilly / @crysugu i am losing the pwp war i needed the lore to be in this HELP. anyway !!! professors bc i cannot stop my mind from spiralling while starting my university classes — im not entirely proud of this but eehhh ….

wc: 4k

warnings: ultimately semi-public sex for all, unprotected sex, cumshot, standing doggy, brief oral (m receiving), brief f! masturbation, brief fingering (gojo), geto is a professor who is also a camboy, camgirl!reader, f! and m! masturbation, mentions of bad dragon’s cumtubes, brief fingering, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), pussy slapping, spitting (on yo pussy), pet names, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, tit play, fingering, implied f! masturbation (nanami), mentions of murder, stripper!reader, riding, degradation, calls you ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, calls you ‘mama’ once too, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, slight face-fucking (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

professor gojo was… an interesting teaching figure. he didn’t have a set way of doing lectures or tutorials, nor was his feedback on assignments entirely coherent, but he was fun and unorthodox. he was also hot as fuck, as you’ve heard from your friends, but you never really got the deal even after seeing his photo on the university website or from miles away entertaining some starstruck student. his classes were always left with no vacancies, too, only able to see what your friends meant after stepping foot first into the lecture.

you were a tad bit early, greeted with gojo sitting at the front with his legs propped up on the desk as he shot you a nonchalant greeting and you think maybe you should’ve signed up for another lecture group, but then he speaks and the air is knocked out of your chest. professor gojo is charismatic when he teaches about art, design and media, captivating everyone with the stark white hair and blue eyes, but he’s clever with his glances because you aren’t realising he stares at you more than anyone else.

aren’t you in your second year? how did he not see you anywhere last year? why did you just sign up? 

the smiles he gives you are sweeter than others, the words more sugar coated with lilts in his voice and you’re chastising yourself for not being any different from everyone else, soon turning into the girls who ask for extra tutoring sessions and sidling up to him on campus — at least you’d get the full experience.

“oh! sweetness, what are you doing here?” you’ve managed to get gojo just as he leaves his office, standing outside for quite some time thinking if you’d really want to do this. several lecturers and professors have already walked past asking if you needed anything, but no matter how much you wanted to say professor gojo’s name, it always turned into something like waiting for a friend.

“oh— uhm, professor gojo, just wondering if the grade for that major project is really set in stone?”

gojo makes a show of thinking, but you know you’re asking for the devil himself when he replies yes with a stifled grin and you’re asking if the two week period of appealing works for the major you’re in.

“you can submit other collaterals as an appeal but it might either boost your grade or bring it down,” the professor leans down with a sick smile on his face, because he’s had so many people outside just like this, nervous from his advances and yet not going through with what they thought they could do. but this time it’s you, the you who he imagined taking on his office desk or even in a lecture theatre for everyone to see, who wants the words to fall from your lips just so he could be your knight in shining armour.

“is there really no… other way to appeal?” you swallow when gojo switches the position and gets you in exactly where he wants you: your back facing his office, his face dangerously close to yours while his eyes slyly catching the way your thighs rub together.

gojo smirks to himself when you knock down yet another cup of stationery on his desk after “discussing” ways you could improve your grades, nails making unsatisfactory noises on the wooden desk while he can hear your cunt gush around him, made obvious from the squelch of your hole and he’s muttering praises into your neck from behind.

“this what you had in mind, baby?” just another girl in his roster, getting ruined just for a grade that wasn’t even that bad. what you didn’t know is that you were the only girl, getting professor gojo so hard in lectures and tutorial classes just from the sight of you that to finally have you — it’s a sweet reward. you shiver when his hand reaches to your front to rub at your clit and you’re grasping at nothing as moans leave your lips.

“y-yeah, professor—” gojo is filthy, lewd, lifting your leg to prop up on the desk just so he could get deeper in you, your pussy everything he imagined and more as he continues to fuck into you. you’re warmer than his hand, than some hookup’s mouth from the club, clenching around his cock so tightly his hips stutter.

“f-fuck, angel, tryna snap my dick off?” you let out an incredulous chuckle at that, hips moving back to meet his while the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fill the room. your juices are coating his length so well, too, that gojo’s eyes lock on your cunt that sucks him in over and over again, the spread of your pussy lips just amplifying his moans. the other spreads your cheeks and sighs at the translucent ring of cum at the base of his cock, hips fucking up to hit your sweet spot that you’re cumming with a shock down your spine — so hard, so deep, so intense that you’re jolting from the orgasm with whimpers of his name. gojo never truly is done with you after pulling out to cum on your ass, however, and you aren’t either.

there’s a thrill that runs through his veins when you back him up onto the sofa, a glimmer in your eyes that suggest you’re as intoxicated on him as he is on you, a sultry gaze taking over your shyness from earlier before he’s pushed onto the cushions.

“thank you for the meal, professor,” you giggle and gojo swears he’s reached his death when your mouth first closes around his still sensitive tip and he whines loudly, hearing your fingers fill your drooling cunt as your hand squeezes out leftover cum from before. a hand runs through your hair and your cockdrunk face is enough for him to see white—

professor gojo thinks you look heavenly between his legs.

✶ GETO

you sigh echoes throughout your dorm room, ending the stream and collecting your keep for the day as you grimace at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. it’s not like it wasn’t pleasurable, but on some days you’re wondering how long you truly need to serve gross men on the internet for it to be enough to pay off your university fees. sure, there were a few attractive people who commented and tipped you, but that was the extent of it. it’s not long before you can only think about cleaning up and taking a big fat nap, but a video in the sidebar catches your attention.

it seemed like a casual stream — no script or planned storyline apart from a heavily tattooed arm taking up half the screen, his pelvis just slightly off the thumbnail. he was faceless, too, filming rather from the chest down which was also inked, something that sends a chill to your core.

it’s only later when you’re slipping your dildo back into you as you watch this stranger pump his cock, guttural groans and slick noises filling your airpods that you realise the dragon wrapping around his arm looks awfully familiar. you’re so blissed out by pleasure, focusing on the needy moans that the man lets out before he cums with a grunt, so much cum leaking out from him. you’ve reached your high too, but you have no time to admire the stranger because it seemed like he was in a hurry, but not before you’ve caught a glimpse of his lip ring.

you know why he looked so familiar, now, standing in front of him in his office while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, something he doesn’t do often. geto suguru doesn’t wear his lip ring in lecturers either, and now you think you know why because they match the video you’ve seen just last night. you aren’t even entirely sure why you were called in, and you think maybe it’s because you “accidentally” sent a friend request, but you’re taken aback when he asks you if you’ve already selected a tutor to be your mentor throughout your major project.

“surprised? i sent out the email a week ago, love.” you try not to let the name get to you, and the confession lingers at the tip of your tongue.

“y-yeah! i saw it, professor geto, just—”

everyone was no stranger to professor geto’s striking looks, always turning heads with his unconventional gauges and long hair that probably should’ve landed him in a modelling agency in the first place. except, he’s opting instead to teach linguistics, a fitting major for him to talk of the history of language and its formation of it, even slipping in some latin and greek to show its origins but you can hardly listen when all you can focus on is the tight pull of his shirt around his body while his hair falls around his face and you think maybe it was a bad time to think if his hair falls out of his bun while he rails someone. you hope soon it’ll be you, just so you can confirm it for yourself with no other reason involved (you’re a fucking liar).

geto clears his throat and you swallow and the flex of his forearms only distract you further, the dragon on his arm seemingly laughing at your torment as it moves along his skin — the other doesn’t miss your dilemma, staring at you for your answer with a dark stare and enjoying the effect he had on you. your brain doesn’t respond fast enough, though, and you’re blurting out the first thing as you watch the curve of his mouth turn in either distaste or satisfaction; you weren’t sure.

“i saw you stream yesterday—” and you slap a hand over your mouth, wanting to run immediately, but you didn’t expect him to smile after a moment of recognition, making the connections to your account until his mouth falls open just a little.

“you’re the little cutie who sent me a request last night, aren’t ya?”

as he asks the question you hoped he wouldn’t ask, you find there’s nothing on your mind except maybe seeing his tattooed arms wrap around you — and you did. they looked so much better up close, leading from one thing to another in that stuffy office soon they’re looking especially good with how he’s currently dragging the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting your slick as you hold onto his biceps after confessing sin after sin about you from—

“i’ve jerked off to your videos.” a burn on your cheeks when geto sets you on his office table, palms leaving hot trails along your thighs and skin. he lets you play with his bulge, hands probably forming bruises on you from how you relieve the tension in his pants.

“the way your cunt wraps around that dildo — makes me wish i was there fuckin’ your pussy instead.” a gasp and a moan when he preps you with both fingers as he sucks hickeys into your neck and plays with your tits, pinching your nipple that has you clenching around him.

“didn’t miss how you like to be bred in your videos too. think maybe you need some real cum, princess,” geto’s button up shirt is pried open by now, trousers just barely pulled down below his hips because he has a lecture in about half n’ hour. though, he wanted your pussy all to himself and if 27 minutes was all he was granted, he was going to make full use of it. geto groans into your hair when your legs wrap around his middle and he’s reeling at how he’s been watching your videos for the longest time and yet, nothing compares to having you fall apart by his hands.

a quick glance to his watch tells him fifteen minutes, eyes flitting back to the squelch of your cunt around him and he smiles smugly at the whimpers he knows so well. he’s sure it’s imprinted on his brain by now but his dick still jumps at the many variations you’ve let out during the 27; he’d commit every single one to memory. “professor— s-shit!”

geto angles his hips up, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just right that your back arches and you let out a drawn out moan, “yes, baby?”

“w-wan’ your cum in me, suguru,” you’re pleading with a drunk little smile and your face is twisted into such pleasure he’s only seen through pixels that geto cums almost immediately with a pained laugh seeing the real thing, hips stilling as he fills you up, up, up to the brim with hot, white semen that geto feels embarrassed to climaxing so quickly. but what can he do? when his favourite camgirl and student asks to be bred, it’s only natural.

how could he possibly say no?

✶ NANAMI

“does that mean the poem is written from the cross’ perspective?” your hand shoots up in hopes of interpreting the text correctly, but also because, just maybe, that you wanted to impress a little someone at the front of the lecture theatre. beside you, you can hear the gasp of your friend along with the eyes of various other students. “sort of like— personification?”

nanami points to you with his glasses that he’s long removed, a small smile on his face. it’s not like you’re trying too hard, but of course you know your shit fairly well. you always have in every class, it was just a bonus you were so attractive that all nanami could think about was spreading your legs right on this desk. “yes, almost. anthropomorphism, something that was very common in poems or works written in old english.”

you were sceptical about professor nanami at first, especially since he was a lecturer who was transferred here from overseas only three months ago and is technically quarter of a white man, but he held command of the japanese language well enough for you to understand, both in speech and concepts. you were more interested in the lecturer himself though, piqued from the moment he explained his grandfather was danish and you turn to your friend, explains the blonde hair, doesn’t explain how he’s so insanely fine, giggling quietly to each other the first day.

as for your major, it was texts after story after poem, but you enjoyed it alongside giving your own input in class — something you knew would help your participation grades. you’ve raised your hand in more ways than one, always coming up at the end of lectures with a question, stopping him in hallways to show him the book you were currently reading. so that’s why you were confused when you were called to the front of the lecture theatre after everything’s over. it couldn’t be bad, right?

it wasn’t bad, it was much better, especially when nanami’s got your legs on either side of him on the lecture theatre desk while he takes his rightful place between your legs — somewhere he’s always longed to be. both the front and back doors are locked, with only your soft, muffled moans filling the room. but nanami has no shame, slurping up the juices that drip from your pussy loudly, possibly staining the desk below him. he’s cared before about the condensation of his drinks but when it comes to your sweet, sweet cunt? he doesn’t give one fuck.

“taste so good, sweetheart,” nanami moans wrapping a forearm around your thighs and just eats. he flicks his tongue over your clit, while the other hand goes up to squeeze at your tits, kneading and playing with them while you’re still at awe at the man on his knees, at how you’ve gotten one of the hottest professors in the university eating out of your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth.

you’re snapped out of your daze when nanami lands a few slaps onto your pussy, brown eyes boring holes into your skull. but this stare is different, as opposed to glaring down the mischievous boys who can’t stop making noise, this is…

“pay attention when i eat your little pussy, angel,” the demanding tone has you shivering, a small grin stifled when he nods in deserved approval and continues his assault. fingers slip in before you have time to react and your head is thrown back so hard it bumps against the wood but you don’t care, clamping down around his fingers. nanami’s pace is unforgiving, sucking hard on your clit while he pumps them in and out.

“feel good?” nanami asks through slurps as he catches your eye, licking one last stripe before gathering his saliva into a ball and he spits onto your clit, sight so lewd you clamp around his fingers. he admires how the way the glob of liquid runs down your cunt and mixes with your arousal that he can’t wait for it to be his cum instead.

“better than…” your voice trails off when he rubs in his spit, a thumb on your bud while he continues to move his fingers and your thighs are already trembling from how nanami knows all your sweet spots in such a short period of time. nanami simply chuckles at your sensitivity, meeting you halfway as you sit up to feel his lips against yours and he whispers against your lips—

“what were you gonna say, baby?”

you’re heaving for oxygen as he adds a third finger and you’re just hoping he’d show you his fucking dick already. hot breath fans across your lips and you smile to yourself seeing how your words affect him.

“better than fucking myself with my fingers thinkin’ it’s your cock, prof.”

✶ TOJI

it was nine in the morning, and toji could already feel a headache forming from the amount of absentees in his class, simply sighing before pulling up the details for today’s lecture, eyes unknowingly looking for you in the large lecture theatre. he finds that you’re already looking, clad in a cardigan and tired eyes — no doubt from trying to reach his deadline earlier than usual. toji found that you liked to do that, the first one to always submit your essays and assignments, so that’s why he knows what game you’re playing at when you’re asking the difference between first, second and third degree murder when you already know their definitions.

he would know — you got full marks the other time. 

“hm?” toji only hums when he sees your enthusiastic face and a quick look down to your lower half shows how your legs spread naturally for him. the professor only licks his lips before he spots your underwear, entertaining you for now as you stare on earnestly, while nothing is actually entering your brain. that’s okay, though, you’re smart.

toji can count on one hand the amount of times you manage to catch him off guard, but he didn’t expect both of those times to be on the same day. it was a busy night at the club, trailing behind professor gojo, bored, until the clock hits 11 and the shift changes, some dancers retiring for the night whilst others make their way out. they emerge with pumps and skimpy outfits, but toji still hasn’t found someone worth wasting his loaded bank account on until you’re stepping out in a corset and garters and toji whistles lowly, eyes travelling up your person unforgivingly before he hears a small gasp.

his curiosity is piqued at the small noise, only to be greeted with your widened eyes and taut muscles at having seen your professor at the strip club you work at, but with a clap from somewhere backstage your body moves naturally into a professional stance, and perhaps a little more sluttily than other days.

your professor was hot, of course you would work twice as hard, twisting your body around the pole while you show off your assets — things you were covering just this morning in professor toji’s lecture. he taught criminology, a minor that you were trying out in your second year of uni and if it didn’t work, you’d drop it, but no matter how much you complained about the class, the green eyes that bore into yours in lectures always seem to ask you to stay. you never really knew whether he was looking at you or not.

at least now, you’ll make him.

toji’s hands tightened around the wad of cash he planned to waste tonight, all put on hold just from watching the way you put your body on display. he wouldn’t have imagined seeing you tonight at the strip club he let gojo drag him to, but he’s almost glad he’s here when you seem to be only dancing for him, all focus on the other patrons lost.

your eyes are still locked with toji’s, reminding you of the times in the lecture theatre where green was all you could see, a smile creeping on your face when one of your girlfriends behind you whispers that the man with the black hair and tight shirt wants a private session with you.

that’s all it took before you feel toji’s hands on your ass later in the private room, pulling you to his front with a smirk. “what’s a sweet girl like you doin’ here?”

you roll your eyes as you feign annoyance. your heart was pounding along with the music, finally being able to feel his toned body from the front., “cut the crap, prof. you booked me for a reason. what, here to talk about my grades or something?”

“what? can’t see my favourite student?” you scoff with a small smile.

“and how did you know i work here?”

“i didn’t, but seeing you work that pole,” toji grins, landing a smack on your butt before grinding his very obvious, large bulge on you and he’s loving the way it seemed to stimulate your clit, “i need ya to show me what i’ve been missing, mama.”

toji groans later while you’ve got his cock in his mouth, on your knees in front of him while you’re fisting the places you can’t reach. you take most of him easily, feeling the tip of his length reach the back of your throat. there, your eyes flick up to him, doe eyed and pleading. it isn’t long before you feel his hips bucking into your mouth and the cute twitch of his cock in your mouth, moaning around him as you knead his thighs, dragging him closer with what little strength you had.

“dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?” toji mumbles out breathlessly, tightening his grip around your hair before you start bobbing your head again, a plethora of lewd noises alongside the slurp of your saliva and his pre-cum mixing only makes your panties wetter and sends your cunt clenching around nothing. “who knew my cutest student was such a whore?” your head reels at the degradation, sucking in your cheeks even more while you slobber over him. toji swears under his breath when your tongue sweeps over his tip, collecting his pre-cum.

“it’s s’big in my mouth, professor,” giggling, you bob your head faster as the other’s noises increase in volume, and he’s left to tap the side of your skull, causing you to tilt your head in question. the vibrations of your moans has him grinding into your mouth, shutting you up until he’s cumming down your throat with a loud groan. toji spills so much into your mouth that you have to swallow twice, pulling on your jaw as you show him the remnants of the cum still on your tongue.

“’m sure they have it somewhere in the conduct about professors not having sexual relations with a student,” toji chuckles when he sees you peel off your underwear, eagerly wrapping his arms around your waist. “or even something about cutting corners to get your grades up…” it’s a little soft, trailing off when he feels you drag his tip along your pussy and he’s mesmerised with how your dripping folds accommodate him easily.

you pout in dramatics, thighs tightening around his when you take inch after inch of him before you’re bottoming out. there’s a deep sigh coming from you before you’re moving your hips lazily, a certain slur to your words that already show you’re drunk on your professor’s cock and toji only smiles.

“yeah, but my grades are perfectly fine,” you whisper with a small whine when toji squeezes your ass, something he never thought he’d get a taste of.

“plus, we’re not in the classroom now, are we, professor?”

[fictionalmenmistress]

I haven't seen anyone else talk about it, so I wanted to share that Logan's rant monologue insulting Wade in the Honda Odyssey, before Wade decides to beat him up and they ~fight~ all night... that so clearly to me, was Logan projecting. It started as a tempered rant to cope with how annoyed and pent up he was, with the heat of everything and with Wade's muchness that makes him, him, but the longer he went on, the more he started ranting and exposing himself in the process.

"THE XMEN REJECTED YOU, AND THEY'LL TAKE FUCKING ANYONE!!!" That was my first hit, that he was referring to himself. He sees himself so lowly, so failed, that's canonical to the film. And canonically, he didn't even quite originally feel worthy or want to be with the XMEN. Didn't feel like there was a place for him there, a place for him anywhere. One of his biggest healings was Professor X not giving up on helping him believe that he deserved to be there, was wanted, was worthy, was a good guy. That's canon to his character. So we know he was speaking about himself. He was chewing Wade out, but he was also talking and focusing moreso on what upset him about himself. (He sees himself as just any jo shmo, when he IS literally THE X MAN ㅠㅠ)

He was seeing himself in Wade, how he "can't even save a relationship with a gd stripper", (he sees himself as not able to save anything either, and he's angry for that more than anything else he's angry or annoyed at) projecting SO HARD as he pieced together saying it out loud, that Wade was exactly like him. Logan hated himself for not saving anything. For being a "loser", a "failure", for all of the same reasons he was lashing out at Wade for. He was so angry and annoyed by Wade reminding him of himself, because he related to him. Wade was his reflection, in his eyes, calling him out so loudly with his own behaviors. And he hated himself. He deeply was suffering with that hatred for himself, and as a result, he lashed out on Wade when really he was chewing out himself, inside, admitting it.

"God's CRUELEST JOKE, IS THAT YOU *WONT* DIE ALONE. BECAUSE YOU! CANT! DIE! SO THE REST OF US HAVE TO SUFFER YOU THE REST OF OUR EXISTENCE!" (something along that.)

He didn't know for sure that Wade can't die. He picked up on that Wade can't be killed. Logan is the one who can't die. They are two flipped sides of the same immortal power coin. When he finished his screaming at him, and everyone was silent at how cruel and shocking the confrontation and his words were, I was sinking with a very empathetically whispered "oh, Logan..." Because I felt his misery. I immediately picked up on him really talking about himself, and I think that was genius and layered. I was upset for how awful that was to say to Wade, heartbroken for Wade taking that to heart, and I was heartbroken that Logan was saying that because he believes that about himself. Because they are, oddly, a lot alike. Very compatible.

This scene here:

I read that Hugh said that Ryan wrote that. He's brilliant with these films. It was so genius. I really needed to share this and bring this thought, meta, analysis to light. For all of us to have.

Is Logan mad at God's "cruel joke" of his immortality, yet ability to feel so much pain through it still? Yes. He punched the roof in rage, because it's not fair. Venting his own pain. He sees his powers, his own and Wade's too, empathetically, as their curse. The curse of being the one who lives, and the guilt with that. The one who can't die. The one who lives, who is forced to live, while everyone who "deserves to live" dies. And WILL die, around them.

"And You can't die. That's on all of US!" Logan says, clearly referring to himself living forever... And "us" being the people HE loved. He saw himself as a burden for existing with them, for them. He deflected that onto Wade, as if the people in Wade's life must feel that way too, but didn't really mean that. He meant it about himself. Logan believes he was a burden on the people he loves, the people he lost. That's probably why he left too, and didn't come back when they called out for him to. He distanced himself to protect them, and protect himself from that fear of rejection that he feels is so imminent, and them not having him, is the one element that led to none of them surviving without him. He was always the key. He was always wanted, and he was always important and needed. He just couldn't ever believe that.

Man, that's why it became so personal for Logan too, when he was shown Wade's photograph of his family. Because HE had a family, and he would do anything now to save them. Just like Wade. He held that photograph all night, he went and got it when it fell out of the car, he kept looking at it. It became personal for him, when he identified with it. That Honda scene really was their turning point of everything. That's when Logan cared with everything. He got it. Wade is the him he couldn't be. But now he can.

I dropped some heat with this one.

Extra little personal context/thought notes: Maybe I just spotted it because I have a natural knack for psychology, I'm hyperobservant, highly empathetic and deeply feeling, and I'm also years experienced of my parents and whole family treating me the same exact toxic lashout way almost every other day. That's a workweek for me to see through toxic lashout anger BS. These are not my gifs!!! They were created by another amazing account. I will refind their @ and tag them!! >>> It's @landoslastnerve ! Thank you friend! 🤍

Also wanted to include someone's tags from those gifs:

.

[princessbellecerise]

You Kiss Their Scars

Summary ✩ How your lover reacts to you kissing their scars

Warnings ✩ Mentions of violence and blood

Jacaerys Velaryon

You were amused as your lips pressed against the teeth shaped scars, in the shape of tiny little bite marks that Jace explained were from Vermax

“He used to bite me plenty when we shared a crib,” Your husband told you. “He was a nasty little thing. Mother was afraid he’d take a chunk out of my arm—but he never did. He stopped doing it when I bit him back,” He revealed

You giggled as you imagined baby Jace and baby Vermax—both the same size at one point—going at it while Rhaenyra tried to separate them. ���So I suppose you’ve both always been temperamental then,” You said

It was no surprise that your husband, who also had quite the temper, related so much to his dragon. The two were one of the same, and you guessed that’s why they got along so well

“Yes,” Jacaerys agreed, a fond smile on his face as he recalled the memories. “We were quite a menacing pair indeed.”

Aegon Targaryen

“She did it again,” Is the only thing Aegon had to tell you in order for you to pull him into your arms, kissing the spot where a nasty red bruise was forming

It was no secret that your husband and his mother did not get along, but never did you think that she would have the audacity to strike him after an argument

It was appalling to you every time it happened, and you wanted nothing more than to march towards her and give the same treatment, Queen be damned

It wasn’t fair that she took out her anger out on Aegon but he begged you, no pleaded with you to not do anything

“It won’t do any good,” He’d tell you sadly, and your heart would ache as you saw the brokenness, the sadness on his face. “She’ll just hate me even more if you act.”

Aemond Targaryen

“Hold still.”

You jutted your tounge out in concentration as you cleaned Aemond’s scar, making sure that it was sanitized properly for the day

Your husband trusting you with such a thing was an act of love itself. The fact that he trusted you to see his deepest insecurity meant alot to you, and all you could do to repay him and hopefully bring up his spirits was pepper light kisses on the skin surrounding it

“There, all done.”

“Thank you, my love,” Aemond smiled slightly as he touched the spots were your lips touched, still wondering how he got so lucky as to find someone like you

Cregan Stark

“Ow! Be gentle, woman,” Cregan said playfully, wincing as you brushed over his ‘scar’ with a wet cloth

Somehow, for some reason, your dear husband thought it would be funny to wrestle with his dire wolf and then he had the nerve to come crawling to you, asking you to patch up his wounds after the beast had bitten him

Of course, it wasn’t really that big of a deal and Cregan wasn’t really hurt, but you still smirked as you pressed a kiss to it like it was a real wound

“There. That should ease some of the pain, you big baby,” You teased, rolling your eyes

Cregan chuckled as he checked your work, looking at the bandage you had placed over some ointment

“What do you suppose it’ll look like when it heals?” He asked you seriously

“It’ll look like you simply have a freckle, Creagn,” You responded sarcastically, and then you giggled as he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap

“Don’t make fun me, wife. You should be proud,” He said, flexing the arm where the bite was. “How many men do you know have taken on such a beast and lived to tell the tale?”

“Only you, husband. Only you.” You snorted at his dramatics, wondering just what you were going to do with your silly, drama queen of a husband

Benjicot Blackwood

There was reason they called your husband ‘Bloody Ben’

You found this out when one day, he came limping home after solving a conflict in the Riverlands, covered in wounds and blood—so much blood

Thankfully, most of it wasn’t his but Benji still did have a few wounds that needed looking after

The Maester was busy, having been sent by your husband to tend to the other men, so you got the pleasure of dragging him to your chambers, making sure that he was clean before you began to stitch him up

The entire time you worked, Benji barely even flinched which amazed you

By the time that you were done with his top half, he’d barely said a word or complained which led to you kissing over a few of his stitches as a reward

“What was that for?” He asked in wonder, a small blush on his cheeks while you grinned

“That, my love, is for being such a good patient,” You told him cheekily, and you did not expect what Benji did next

Standing up, he loosened his trousers and then he grinned as he pointed at the area beneath his small clothes

“Well in that case, I’ll need plenty of kisses here, too. No promises that I won’t move if you touch me there though.”

“Benji!”