#u are growing and about to be growing SO MUCH

[screampied]

pls pls pls can we get some overstimulating toji, Hes whimpering so much, maybe tie his hands up 👀🙏 love u twin

❤︎ ໋𓈒 toji letting you "top" him

warnings. fem! reader, overstim, whiney toji, riding him after he cūms, dirty talk, mdni.

“hmph. you’re gettin’ too fuckin’ cocky,” toji gruffs lowly, leaning back against the padded comforter. dark eyes stare right back into you as you straddle his lap. he’s buried into you, and he was just about to finish. his breaths were quick paced, huffing and puffing. white clouds of air escape his lips as he keeps dark irises on each of your fidgety movements. “wipe that smile of y’er face. don’t like when ya give me that look.”

you hum, leaning in to toss your arms over his wide shoulders. whilst he’s stretching your gummy walls out to the very fullest— you lean in to plant a kiss near the right side of his lip, soft contact right against his infamous slanted scar. a soft moan always withdraws from his lips whenever you did that. the toughness that scraps against your mouth as you plant your lips down on that specific spot. “or …what?” you tease, grinding your hips just a bit more brisker at a fleeting tempo. “aw, someone’s getting close?”

“fuuuck,” he growls out, pearly white canines sticking out near the very corners of his mouth. toji’s head throws back in rapture and he feels your hand glide down the middle part of his chest. his shaggy, unkempt bare chest—all types of scars from his work that you love to feel all over. he’s about to pump you full, the blissful agitation that pokes against his nerves makes him feral. “sensitive still,” and with a low exhale, he glares at your stretching sly smile. “don’t give me that look. don’t …. even—f-fuck..”

and at that exact moment, toji fushiguro whined.

you grow quiet. he grows so quiet, it’s so silent that you could hear a pen drop.

toji swallows, even a simple action as that was just so loud. he groans, leaning back against the fat silk pillows before he stares at you with low hooded eyes.

“s-shit,” and his voice continues to grow more . . . shaky.

it’s so unlike him, the way his words quaver from each word was so cute to hear. you even had his hands tied up, pinned amongst the edges of the bed. he was sprawled all out for you while you were grinding against his lap.

“i spoil you too much, f-fuckin’ little girl,” and he’s clearly trying to keep up his rough facade— but alas, it’s really no use.

“you’re cute when you whine, baby,” you smooch against the scar near the right side of his lip.

his mouth twitches in vexation and you watch as his eyes roll further back.

his abdomen— oh, it burns into a mild volume of arousal, he’s profusely sweating before he feels himself about to break. each time you sneak a kiss against his scar, he groans. “mwah,” you tease, treating the lower part of his face with such delicacy. toji was shooting you a look of grimace. briefly—he tried to keep up his stubborn antics, but his glare only turned into lewd eye rolls from how good you clamp against his cock. it’s so good, the saturation of your sopping wet pussy squeezing down on him tight, he’s going dumb by the minute. “it’s okay, toji. you can cum.”

“don’t tell me what to d—” and he gets cut off before he quite literally does cum, it’s abrupt. toji’s quavering underneath you as he dumps a thickset load of seed into you. “shit, fuckin’ damn,” he heaves. his breath was heavy as he’s leaning all the way back now. with a hand still gripped onto your left hip, he sinks into the weightlessness nirvana that awaited him. “fuuck,” he pants, a rough hand grasping your ass— for a solid moment, toji grows quiet and the only sounds that’s could have been made were the sloshes of your cunt accepting his seed. somehow he managed to rip off the restraints on his wrists—wasting no time to finally touch you. in the midst of still rocking your hips in a circular rotation again toji—it consists of such satiny ropes, you’ve never felt more stuffed. “ugh, fuckin’ slut. got me moanin’ for you like this-”

you giggle, gifting him with a chaste kiss. “i’m not done, baby. keep up with me, okay?”

toji’s caught by surprise once you start to move your hips again, accelerating them against him and he whines. “f-fuck, the fuck? girl, ‘jus fuckin’ came . . sensitive, goddamnnn.”

it was cute, the way his low raspy voice pitches up an octave— he’s whimpering, the rapid movements of your pussy having him practically speechless. with his twitching dick now flaccid, he’s still got a firm grip on your waist. a raw groan only then wrenches from the back of his throat.

“can’t cum anymore, f-fuck, ‘m still sensitive,” he babbles, softly pulling you by the neck to give him a kiss.

and by kiss, it was more sloppy than anything. with wet tongues moving against each other in tavern, he feels you grinding again and again.

toji’s so warm. he can feel his heartbeat coercively pulsating through his ears. your tender touch against him had him so needy. even while having him like this— he was still attractive, yet that’s when you grab his wrists, making him pin them back again. “fuck are ya d-doing.”

“no touching me, baby,” you hum, and his glare returns. with pinkish crimson lips squeezing into a scowl, his darkened eyebrows curl into a furrow. “touch me after you give me another one, yeah?”

he swallows, toji couldn’t believe how dominant you were being. it was rare to get him like this, even rare to be on top of him.

“fuckin’ brat,” he grouses, his muscles near his forearms tensing. your cunt’s involuntarily constricting around his massive length. your walls hug him tightly before he starts to pant more and more. “fine. f-fine, just kiss me again…… please.”

you lean in, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders before pulling him into a deep kiss.

he’s so sensitive—heavy, hot huffs of breaths gnashing together, he whines again in your mouth. toji shivers, feeling the print of your thumb brush down against his undercut. he groans, feeling your hips start to pick up pace again and he pulls away to breathe. “phew,” he puffs out, seeing nothing but pure stars. you rode him so good that he didn’t even have a witty comeback.

toji’s entire face was all flustered, he glowers once he sees your smug grin tug against your lips. “what.”

“you should whine more,” you pause your hips, leaning in to pepper a few kisses against his cheek. he’s so fluttered—still heaving through his full lungs, eyelids halfway open as a big arm wraps around your waist. toji pulls you close, despite how embarrassed he was—he took it as a opportunity to pull you closer towards him. “you sound so cute when you’re whiney.”

“shut up,” he pouts, avoiding eye contact. toji’s still stuffed inside of you before he grunts once he feels you starting to move then stop. “m-mhm. don’t stop though. keep going.”

you giggle, bringing a single finger to stroke his cheek. “say please, toji.”

“fuckin—” he starts, sending you straight daggers. he’d argue further but he was still deeply buried into you. just a quick move with your hips and he’d start whining again from the euphoric friction. “fine. fine, just finish fucking me, please.”

“good boy,” you kiss the top of his head, starting up your hips again and he brings you into his chest, wrapping his beefy arms around you before whimpering into your neck.

he swallows, seeping his teeth into the crevice of your neck. “shut u-mhm,” and he slumps back with a pussydrunk smile on his face. “actually….praise me more. call me that again, ‘n look at me when you do.”

“good boy, toji,” you repeat in a sweet voice, picking up his head to make him stare into your eyes—he’s still panting before he leans back, groaning, shuddering from your touch. “such a good boy.”

[its-avalon-08]

Hi! i love daniel riccardo and lando norris, can you maybe do one where you are daniel's best friend and end up falling for lando? you grew up in an abusive childhood so daniel is fiercly protective of u, and he doesn't like that lando is flirting with u (daniel and y/n is purely platonic pls),

i'll always be your home (dr3 platonic + ln4)

tw- abusive household

the monaco grand prix was always a chaotic spectacle, but this year, the real drama was brewing off the track. you, ever the loyal friend, sat with daniel in the mclaren hospitality area, dodging champagne showers and lando's relentless teasing.

"hey bubs," lando sidled up, a mischievous glint in his eye, "think you can handle a real yacht party later? not like those snooze-fests danny drags you to."

daniel, already bristling at lando's nickname for you, snorted. "actually, y/n loves classic rock marathons. much better than your dubstep-infused ear torture."

you squeezed daniel's arm, stifling a laugh. "don't worry, honey badger, i can handle both." you'd picked up his playful nickname for himself, a constant reminder of his unwavering support.

growing up in an abusive environment had left scars, but daniel had become your anchor. he saw past your nervous flinches and forced smiles, his protectiveness a constant comfort.

later that night, under the twinkling lights of monte carlo, you found yourself drawn to lando's easy charm. you dueled with him on jet skis, his laughter echoing across the water, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. he felt like home, like a sense of comfort and safety.

noticing your growing closeness, daniel pulled you aside. his smile was strained. "y/n, are you ok?"

"yeah, why wouldn't i be?"

"lando," he said, his voice low. "he can be… a lot."

you sighed. "daniel, i can handle lando. i want to handle him."

silence stretched between you. daniel's gaze softened, a hint of pain flashing through his blue eyes. "i just want to make sure you're happy, safe. you deserve the best, y/n."

tears welled up in your eyes. you squeezed his hand. "i am happy, thanks to you. you're like a brother to me and i love you for it, but… lando makes me feel…" you trailed off, unable to articulate the unfamiliar butterflies in your stomach.

daniel chuckled, the sound laced with relief. "like you're on a rollercoaster? lando can be a bit of a daredevil." he paused, then added, "but if he ever hurts you…"

you finished his sentence with a mock glare. "honey badger unleashed, right?"

he grinned, the familiar twinkle back in his eyes. "exactly. now, go have fun. just… promise me you'll be careful, alright?"

you threw your arms around him in a hug. "always."

the next few weeks were a whirlwind. you and lando went on secret dates, stolen kisses under the guise of "team strategy meetings." daniel, ever the detective, noticed your flushed cheeks and lingering smiles, but a relieved smile played on his lips whenever he saw you genuinely happy.

the sun beat down on the budapest paddock, reflecting off lando's helmet as he peeled it off. daniel, ever the opportunist, snagged him before he could disappear.

"lando, a word?" daniel's voice was quiet, a stark contrast to his usual boisterousness.

lando followed him into a shaded corner, a playful grin fading as he saw the seriousness etched on daniel's face. "alright, mate, what's up?"

daniel hesitated, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. "look, lando, i know you and y/n have been… hitting it off lately."

lando's grin returned, a touch sheepish. "yeah, she's pretty awesome, isn't she?"

"she is," daniel agreed, his voice heavy. "but there's something you need to know about her."

lando's smile faltered completely. he'd noticed the flinch y/n sometimes had, the way she seemed to shut down in certain situations. he hadn't pushed, but it had gnawed at him.

daniel took a deep breath. "y/n… she's been through a lot. more than you know." he hesitated again, then continued, his voice low. "she doesn't deserve to be hurt, lando. not again."

lando felt a pang in his chest. the playful teasing suddenly felt cruel in light of what daniel was implying. "hurt her? mate, i would never—"

daniel cut him off, his voice thick with emotion. "you wouldn't believe the things she's had to deal with. the strength it takes her just to get through the day…" he trailed off, wiping a hand across his eyes. "i just… i promised myself i'd protect her."

lando stared at him, his heart clenching. he'd never seen daniel like this, so vulnerable. a new respect bloomed for the man who was more than just a teammate, but a fierce protector.

"daniel," lando said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands. "listen to me. y/n is incredible. kind, funny, strong as hell. and the way she lights up when you talk to her… it's something special."

daniel looked up, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "you… you care about her?"

"care about her?" lando scoffed, a genuine smile breaking through. "mate, i'm smitten. i haven't been able to stop thinking about her since that night in monaco. but trust me, hurting her is the last thing i'd ever do. i want to make her happy, to be there for her the way you have been."

daniel's shoulders slumped in relief. a watery smile played on his lips. "just… don't mess up, alright? she deserves the world."

"i know," lando promised, a newfound determination burning in his eyes. "i'll take care of her, mate. you can count on me."

from then on, things shifted. lando toned down the teasing, replaced by genuine care. he made an effort to understand your past, offering a supportive ear and a shoulder to lean on.

the hungarian twilight cast long shadows across the budapest track, the last embers of the setting sun painting the sky in fiery hues. you leaned against the railing, the city lights twinkling below, a bittersweet ache settling in your chest.

the race had been exhilarating, a nail-biting finish that left you breathless. lando and daniel did amazingly.

suddenly, a familiar voice broke the silence. "lost in thought, shoey queen?" lando stood beside you, his blue eyes holding a hesitant warmth.

you offered a small smile. "just reflecting on the race. it was incredible."

he nodded, then cleared his throat nervously. "listen, y/n, there's something i… something i've been wanting to say."

his vulnerability sent a jolt through you. you'd seen lando's playful facade, the charming daredevil who thrived on competition. but this lando, standing before you with a tremor in his voice, was captivating.

"alright," you encouraged, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

he took a deep breath. "these past few weeks… they've been incredible. getting to know you, not just as daniel's best friend, but as y/n. you're strong, funny, and you have this incredible spark in your eyes that makes me want to be a better person."

his words washed over you, each one a brushstroke painting a picture of affection you hadn't dared to imagine. tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of joy and a fear of vulnerability you hadn't fully conquered.

"y/n," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "i know you've been through a lot. and i want you to know, whatever it is, i'm here for you. to listen, to support you, to be your shoulder to cry on."

he reached out, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that trailed down your cheek. the simple touch ignited a thousand unspoken emotions within you.

"so," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "would you like to… maybe go out sometime? just you and me. no strategy meetings or champagne showers, just a chance to get to know each other better."

the weight of his sincerity settled upon you, a comforting blanket against your past hurts. you met his gaze, a newfound determination sparkling in your own eyes.

"i'd like that very much, lando," you whispered, a single tear slipping down your cheek, this time a tear of pure hope.

he smiled, a radiant beam that chased away the twilight shadows. in that moment, under the budapest sky, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, you knew this was just the beginning of something special.

later that night, you found daniel by the pool, a beer in his hand. "so," he said gruffly, "what happened with lando?"

a shy smile spread across your face. "he asked me out. officially."

he raised an eyebrow. "and?"

"and i said yes."

his lips twitched. "about time, shoey queen." he held you in a tight hug. "just promise me one thing."

you pulled back, concern flickering in your eyes. "anything."

"take care of each other. and if he ever breaks your heart…"

"honey badger unleashed, i know."

you both laughed, the sound echoing through the night. you knew daniel would always be there, a fierce protector turned loving friend, and with lando by your side, you were finally ready for something more.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

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[marnikula]

Can u do early seasons spencer x reader who has a lot of problems and they let people walk all over them and they dont set boundaries and they struggle with their emotions. Reader likes spencer a lot but doesn't seek him out bc they feel like he deserves better! And u can decide what happens but make it happy ending :)

Oh my word, I literally spent like 2 hours writing this because I wrote something and then my internet cut out when I posted and now it's lost, so I had to rewrite it. Hope you enjoy!

Cw: gn reader, people dumping work on reader, Spencer being cute

Enjoy!

You were a doormat. You knew it, your friends knew it, everyone knew it. You tried to set boundaries, to say no, but it never seemed to stick. Saying no made you feel guilty, it made you feel like a bad person even though you knew you weren't.

Being a doormat, people tended to walk all over you, requesting ridiculous things of you. That is how it came to be that you were sitting alone in the bullpen, the clock ticking away, showing you that it was around midnight and you still had a whole stack of papers to go through. You felt yourself about to fall asleep, and truly, you were too tired to fight it off when a ding signaled the arrival of someone.

Without even turning to look who it was you knew it was Spencer Reid. You recognized his footsteps, and even if you didn't, the smell he brought with him would have alerted you. It was the smell of coffee mixed sweet undertones, almost as if he had spent his whole day in a café. It was intoxicating. "What are you still doing here?" "Working, I have a lot of stuff to finish before tomorrow" "you mean today" looking back at the clock you could see he was right, it was now officially the next day.

"Do you need some help?" without even waiting for you to decline Spencer took half of the pile you were working on. He moved fast, knowing you well enough to know that you hated asking for help, especially from him, he just could never figure out why.

"Spencer, you really don't need to, I've got this" reaching your hands to take the files back only to be swatted away by the doctor was something you did not expect. "I'm not saying you don't have it, I'm just going to help you so you can go home earlier"

Sighing you admitted defeat and went to go make coffee for the two of you. With Spencer's help you managed to make it through the massive stack of papers on your desk in less that an hour, something you would never have been able to do on your own.

"You, doctor Spencer Reid, are amazing, what can I do to thank you?" it was a slight tease on your part. You didn't expect him to ask you anything return, it wasn't like him, he was too nice . That was one of the things you loved about him, and one of the reasons you willed the crush growing in your heart to shrivel up and die. He deserved so much better than you. Someone with a mind as amazing as his own, someone with kindness rivaling his and someone who knew how to say no. You were none of those. At least not in your own eyes.

"You could go on a date with me" Spencer surprised himself with those words, he really hadn't meant to say them out loud, but he really liked you, and in a moment of confidence inspired by sleep deprevation, he decided to take a chance.

"Really? You mean it?" the both of you were blushing hard at this point, him thinking about how he could have possibly screwed this up and you thinking about how this could possibly get any better.

"I-I mean, only if you want to, you really don't have to feel pressured, I know I said I would take it as paiment, but honestly spending time with you was enough of a payme-" grabbing his face in your hands you turned him to look at you, shutting off his ramblings with the movement and shutting off his brain with your words

"I would love to"

[riki-riks-chick]

Racing Thoughts ┃N.RK

needy!riki x oblivious!reader

riki has never had sex before and has a raging hard on. he simply does nothing abt it and it's driving him insane.

no smut included

═════════════

Third Person POV~

Riki had been watching you all day. Whether intentional or not, he was simply enjoying being around you. It wasn't until you sat beside him on the couch that things got awkward.

You had turned on the movie, placing your hand on his thigh as you always did, but this time it was so intimate in his mind. 

He couldn't keep his wandering eyes from flickering between your hand and the TV screen. His baggy pants are growing more and more tight around his crotch as he melts against the warmth of your palm.

He's trying his hardest to hide it too, a pillow placed directly on his lap to cover his very obvious hard on. He knows that it's normal. You're his girlfriend and he finds you attractive, but he's never popped a boner from such a simple action.

It's not like he craves to touch you that bad, after all he's never gone all the way before and you can't miss what you haven't had, but something about the way you innocently kiss or touch him.. It just seems so emphatically wrong.

So here he is, spending the remainder of the movie, pressing his thighs together, fidgeting every time your hand twitches even slightly.

His mind is racing with thoughts. Most of them less than appropriate,but he can't control it. He's never felt this way before, not at all. 

You begin to notice how he's moving so much, cheeks flushed a pretty red and his teeth tugging on his bottom lip every other minute.

"You okay, Riki?" You ask as he nods, scared to open his mouth, fearing that if he does he'll let out a moan. You shrug at his words, moving your hand away from his thigh as you sit in a more comfortable position on the couch.

He immediately takes in a breath of relief, his roaring thoughts trickling down as he glances over at you.

"Baby... Can you help me?.. Please?.."

═════════════

@ihugyeojin hope u like this luv ❤

[luvring]

A LITTLE WHILE LONGER

gn!reader | atsumu parent au, 700 words of silly fluff(?) Unless u think about growing up too much.

“’tsumu? what’s wrong? why’re you crying?” you put your keys in your pocket, eyes focused on atsumu who’s leaning his head back on the couch, blinking away tears and wiping his cheeks.

he huffs, turning away as if you wouldn’t be able to hear him sniffling. “’m not cryin’!”

“makoto,” you call your daughter who’s sitting with her back to you. “what happened—oh my god, why’re you both crying?”

she looks over her shoulder, and you catch her phone and crumpled tissues in her hands. they look at you with the same pout and loud denial—“we’re not crying!”

the echo is an unconventional comfort—‘we’ enough to tell you that nobody’s said or done any real damage. makoto brings her legs up to sit cross-legged in her chair, grabbing the pillow from behind her to her lap, and you look at your husband. “atsumu.”

his still red eyes snap toward you and his jaw drops, voice filled with hoarse betrayal, “what?! why’re ya lookin’ at me? ‘t’s her fault!”

your daughter gasps and throws her pillow at his chest. “dad!”

atsumu catches it with ease. “makoto!”

“guys.”

stopped before one of them can pick up another pillow, the pair sit back in their seats, this time atsumu holding the pillow up to his chin. makoto sniffles as she unlocks her phone. “here.”

when you walk over and she passes it to you, it’s set to the front camera with some sort of filter waiting to start. you furrow your brows and look to her for explanation.

“it’s an ageing filter—dad started crying when he saw what i’d look like when i get old.”

she sniffles once more, and something in your chest softens. you look toward atsumu who, as if he could feel your gaze, looks away from the corner of the room back to you. his cheeks match his eyes, and he tries to stop what he knows is going to happen, “don’t you—”

“awww.”

“babe,” the whine is immediate as he slouches into the couch.

you only snicker as you hand makoto her phone back, and make your way to him with a smile and arms wide open. despite everything, he straightens, leans toward you and your touch. his head rests against your stomach as you run your fingers through his hair. (you think makoto says “ew” behind you.)

“’tsumu, you big softie,” you tease.

he scoffs weakly as he wraps his arms around your waist. “she’s crying too!”

“am not.”

atsumu peaks his head from around you. “are too, y’liar.”

“i’ve never cried in my life,” makoto denies, a rasp in her words.

the blond in your arms scoffs again. “tell that t’me when you were 7 and crying ’cause y’stepped on a ladybug by accident.”

makoto gasps. “her name was milly, you monster.”

you snort, turning to look at your daughter. “sorry to milly, now stop fighting. family hug time, c’mere.”

and even as they stick their tongues out at each other, they both stand so you can wrap your arms around them, and atsumu quietly plants a kiss to both of your heads. you mumble with a smile, “love you guys.”

“love you too.”

“love you. and you are never growing up.”

“biologically impossible.”

“don’t care, you’re eight now.”

“what—eight?!”

the hug breaks, and you sigh dramatically, atsumu pulling makoto into a headlock you know she could get out of in seconds, even while she laughs.

“eight.”

“why can’t i stay seventeen?”

“numbers don’t go that high for ya anymore.”

“then what’re you?”

“a young and handsome twenty-four year old.”

“ya wish, old man!”

walking away, you call out, “i’m gonna get dinner started, don’t break anything!”

makoto’s “thank you!” is followed by atsumu’s “we won’t!”, and the bittersweet ache in your bones at the thought of your family getting older is soothed by the sound of laughter from the living room, a reminder it'll be you all together, for at least a while longer.

girl dad atsumu who loves and spoils his daughter to bits is so real but also It's Atsumu.. The Miyas... i thought it'd be nice 2 see her picking up more of his personality + them being silly 🙂‍↕️ (these kinds of relationships r so endearing 2 me 😭🩷) everypony knows they love each other soo much even while they're 'fighting' and accusing the other of cheating at mario kart or whatever LOL.

was gonna make tsumu point out makoto crying at the thought of Him getting old btw but then i would've taken longer to Pack This Up and also had to deal with ME thinking about MY parents so here we are 🫡

@pelicanpizza @godoffuckedupcats @causenessus @priv_rose @ur-local-simp @respitable haii my tag list i forgot i had u for a while there. and u guys too @reverie-starlight @dira333 haii friends i hope u are all doing awesome! 🫵🩷

[just-jordie-things]

omg omg omg i am extremely sorry if i interrupted your hopefully very wonderful day but i was thinking abt megumi x reader where the reader is at first very stoic and nonchalant (and sometimes even comes off as a bit blunt), typically is introverted, but once u get to know reader u realise they are very silly and lighthearted, and they like doing things for their friends even if they dont rlly find it interesting as they just want to make them happy. IDK WHY BUT I RLLY LIKE THIS IDEA. byebyee ! ♪( ´θ｀)ノ

!!!!!!!! YES !!!!!!!!!!!

what's interesting about you is that megumi did not warm up right away- despite you being just like him. nobara and yuji notice it shortly after meeting you. at first impression you're reserved, maybe even a bit intimidated by their rambunctious energy. but once you got to know them it didn't take long for them to see the real you. that you could be just as goofy and fun, you just had to get comfortable first!!

but just to megumi's luck, it seemed you hadn't quite gotten used to his presence yet. because as soon as he came around, you were quiet. for a while he didn't think much of it. but eventually he started to notice that wasn't the norm for the others.

he'd see you having lunch with yuji, laughing and talking animatedly. or chatting away while mid-spar with nobara, it seemed even when you were winded you could hold a conversation with her.

and he tried not to let it get under his skin, because megumi wasn't sensitive... he didn't care if you got along better with his friends than with him.... that would be... well... shit.

he racked his mind for what he possibly could've said or done to ward you off. but the longer he thought about it the more he came to realize that he hadn't even been around you enough to have said something to offend you, so what could it be?

his pesky thoughts kept telling him maybe you were crushing on yuji or nobara... but he did his best to shove those thoughts down. so what if you liked one of them? it wasn't like him to be jealous...

well shit, he's jealous AND sensitive. fantastic.

deciding that he'd just have to approach you to get to the bottom of it, megumi swallows his pride. if he asked you directly why you never talked to him, then you'd have to give him a proper answer.

so he finds you one afternoon walking on your own, takes a deep breath, and approaches.

and just before he can say anything, you catch sight of him and even smile a little- wait did you just smile at him?

"fushiguro, i was just going to look for you"

it's the most you've ever spoken to him, and he's frozen before you. he even looks completely caught off guard, brows raised to his hairline, lips parted, eyes wide, you almost laugh at him.

"l-looking for me?" he stammers back at you, and this time you can't help the little chuckle that comes out.

"yeah, gotcha something," you say, only confusing him further.

he watches in shock as you reach in your pocket, trying to come up with what you could have for him. when you retrieve a small pop-it keychain and dangle it before him with a grin, megumi can safely say he wasn't expecting that.

he blinks at it dumbly, as if he's never seen a pop-it fidget toy before. there's only two bubbles on the keychain since it's so small, but he's more curious about the black, vague dog shape of the keychain itself.

"thought it looked like your dog," you say, your smile suddenly growing bashful the longer megumi just stands there and stares at it. "...kinda" you add nervously.

finally, he reaches out to take the small gift from you. he pops the bubbles mindlessly, but mostly he just couldn't tear his eyes away from it.

it was almost awkward, how long you both stood there in silence while megumi inspects the keychain.

and eventually, he looks back at you, only ot find you've been waiting rather patiently for him to say something.

"you just... got this for me?"

it's a stupid comment, but he doesn't know what else to say.

you nod your head. "yeah, made me think of you"

it made her think of me? now megumi's face is heating up at the idea that you think of him at all. before now he would've bet money that you didn't even know his first name.

"oh... thank you..."

his awkwardness nearly gives you second hand embarrassment, but you're so relieved that he accepted the silly gift at all that all you can do is smile and nod at him.

to his surprise, there's a block in his throat that he has to clear before he can speak again.

"um, i was just heading to lunch..." he trails off, hoping that's all the more he'd need to say, but when you stand there and blink back at him he figures he'll have to make more of an effort. "have you eaten?"

you shake your head, a small smile on your face as you see where he was trying to go with this.

"i could eat" you reply.

megumi nods his head a few times, his fingers nervously fiddling with his new keychain, popping the rubber bubbles audibly.

"so... so you want to come and eat with me?"

you bite your tongue to keep from laughing as you nod again. your lunch is spent making awkward conversation in an attempt to fill the awkward silences. but after trying to open himself up to you, megumi finally got to see the side of you he so badly wanted to get to know.

now it was just his turn to try to return the favor. you had your curiosities too, after all.

[fairyhaos]

FAIRYHAOS TURNS ONE YEAR OLD ?!??? 🤍

good morning guess what!!!! today marks the 1-year anniversary of user fairyhaos 🥰🥰

crazy to think that one whole year ago, i was making this account and posted a svt hc for the first time and, now, 365 days later, ive grown and become a blog that's frankly astonishing in size. i just wanted to say thank you to all of u for being here with me! i did not expect this blog to grow at the startling and amazing rate in which it did, and im so grateful because it's because of all of you that this has happened. <3

from little platonic headcanons to follower events to having a tracked tag to even making gifs now (!!! how did that even happen pls) ive learned so much during this year alone, and it's been utterly incredible to go on this journey with all of you 🫶 you all mean so much to me, truly.

i was thinking of maybe doing something for this day, but im gonna be honest, i couldn't think of anything 😭 but just know that i love u all a great deal and if there's anything that u wanna do to celebrate, im all ears!! you're all so, so precious to me, and i really do want to do something to celebrate this blog's birthday!

and ofc, is this really an celebration post by fairyhaos if i don't talk about my moots?? you've all made the experience here even more wonderful and im rather ia these days (cries) but i miss u and im thinking of all of u always ^_^

@etherealyoungk @weird-bookworm @rubywonu @blue-jisungs @haecien @slytherinshua @icyminghao @wheeboo @eternalgyu @y-ves @trblsvt @idubiluv @odxrilove @arafilez @soonhoonsol @dalkyeom @gyuswhore @hannieheartuu @h-ao @hannyoontify @jeonsupershy @jeonwon-wonwoo @kyeomyun @leech4ns @chwedout @vcrnons @boosari @meowonhao-main @mesanthropi @mirxzii @17isrighthere @wonwoonlight : u are all the people who mean theee most to me, and im so grateful to have known all of you!! 💗

and how can i forget everyone else? thank you to everyone: all of my readers, all of my anons - named or not - and anyone who's ever interacted w me, my fics, my gifs, anything at all.

one year with this blog... insane. you've all brought me unspeakable amounts of joy in this year alone, and i hope to be able to give that back to u all tenfold in the future 🫶

💌 - yena xx

[stevenose]

hi hannnnnn :)

can we talk about edging Steve :))) please :-)) he would get so whiny and buck up into your hand. and he’s sooooo pink in the cheeks and his kiss/bitten swollen lips are so pretty 💖

reader w a vagina! reader receiving oral! edging steve! no pronouns used for reader!

hi lulu i literally love you so much im smooching u

ohhhh you mean like bitching him out? god i cannot get over the idea. of him sprawled out on his bed, wearing his briefs, biceps flexing while you’re jerking him off through them. just with your palm, rubbing over the tip of it. watching the wet spot there grow - in between sneaking glances at his horribly pathetic, desperately cute face.

“please?” he whimpers, skin pink from his chest to his cheeks. his forehead is sweaty, hair sticking to it. “mmmph - baby, please?”

and you smile lazily at him, still playing with his tip. “please what, stevie? you forget your words?”

he huffs and moans at the same time. “touch my cock.”

“i am touching your cock.”

“not -“ he inhales shakily, biting his lip, his hips dangerously close from bucking upwards. that’s rule number one - no moving. “my shaft, honey.”

you let out a little oh and drag your nails down, moaning a little yourself at his expression. so beautiful, whimpering and whining and try so goddamn hard to be a good boy.

“such a pretty boy,” you coo at him. “wanna get off?”

he nods fervently. “mhm.”

so you oblige and jerk him off - still over the fabric of his underwear, but it’s enough for him. the fabric is both rough and pleasurable against his sensitive cock. especially the weeping tip, desperate to be touched.

“gotta tell me when you’re close,” you whisper, your free hand moving down to cup his balls. “wanna take it in my mouth, gorgeous.”

he keens, unable to help himself. he pants, shaking his head back and forth while mumbling yes yes fuck yes nngh feels so good —

you truthfully don’t need him to tell you. he’s easy to read. his cock twitches, balls pulsing, and steve gets so loud that you’d gag him if you had a free hand. you watch his brows twitch, his whines get hoarser, his mouth falling open. “oh, sh- gonna - gonna cum -!”

and you take your hand away from him, watching his cock twitch and spasm with nothing coming out. no relief. steve’s hands grab the sheets in a white knuckled grip, a growl low in his throat, moss eyes tearing up. “why the - what - why would you do that?!”

“being too loud,” you pout, crawling up his body. his hands go to your hips immediately, gripping the fat there, licking his lips and pleading up at you. “don’t pout, stevie. just gotta sit on your face while i stroke you off, okay? isn’t that what you like?”

you hover over his face - you’re still in your underwear, too, but you’re very curious how steve will handle it. you’re sure he’ll figure it out - steve to a pussy is quite honestly like a moth to a flame.

“be good, and i’ll let you cum,” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair for a moment before sinking down onto his face, feeling his broad nose rub against your clit. steve groans without a hand on him, starts licking at your clothed pussy, while you reach back to grip his cock again.

[okwonyo]

PRETTY U — a lee heeseung social media au

six. its 3am dpmo lil boy

( written ) fluff ⠀ ✶⠀ four hundred words

“why were you awake so late?” your voice blends perfectly with the sound of the waves in front of the both of you.

you watch the water flow for a while. your hair moves along with the wind and your side profile shows off perfectly. heeseung takes the opportunity to stare at you. he gets lost in your visuals, there is nothing as beautiful as you, even the sea at his feet. the tiny yelp you let out when the cold feeling of the water reaches your feet is not enough to tear his eyes away from you.

instead, the electricity the fills his entire beauty when your hand comes holding onto his, gets him out of his adoration. he instinctively pulls you closer to him — protective reflex. your other hand rest against his stomach when your shoulder collides with his body. he swaps the hand holding yours with the free one; wrapping his arm around your waist to help you stand properly.

“are you okay?” he looks down at you, staring at the back of your head while you still contemplate the water underneath your feet.

you nod, “yeah,” a giggle free itself out of your chest. you look up to him, “what about you?”

the proximity mixes with the warmth of your body against his and your pretty eyes looking at him almost makes him collapse. he can feel his cheeks burning up and he is too mesmerized by you to even think of looking away from you. “uh, y—yeah” is all he can say at the moment.

it is as if you tear his heart with your bare hands you get out of his hold. he lets you go with a pain growing inside of him. he misses your skin against his already. you walk away from him, towards the water you love so much. he watches you kick it for a while and he smiles.

you come back to him eventually, sliding your hand inside his so smoothly that it seems all natural when he intertwines your fingers together, “so, why were you awake so late?”

your shoulder brushes against his as you talk, he might combust, “oh,” he remembers you asking the exact same question earlier and he mentally scolds himself for forgetting to respond, “i wanted to wake up early to do so push-ups”

you give him a perplexed look and he almost feels offended. you stare at each other for a while. your serious expression makes him break a smile, “sunwoo kicked me off the bed in his sleep,”

“you’re so stupid,” you tell him, bumping his shoulder with yours while you laugh.

REWIND · EPISODES · NEXT

notes — made this in a rush ........... ^_^

[s0bk]

I LOVE UR ART IT MAKES ME CRAZY !!! i hope when im 30 im also a librarian who spends their free time drawing amazing furry art an writing fanfiction. sry if this is 2 much ur jus like my hero an i wanted to let u know. like im already grown up but when i grow up i wanna b like u.

FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS !!!!!!!!!!1!!!

i've been drawing for like ever and i love my job !!!!!!! i get to do stuff with art at my job, too, so it's really great. the moments where i get to help out young people and hopefully inspire them and make them feel joy about what they're into is everything to me. I'M SO FLATTERED TO BE A HERO, YOU GUYS ARE MY HEROES !!!!!!!!!!!!!

[amirasainz]

i really love this series sm and can u make baby!sainz and carlos’s cute moments from childhood with each other or with their parents. thank you!

Ohhh, this was so sweet to write. I really like the Easter part, because me and my siblings would do something like that as well.

I hope you have fun reading and please send some requests!

-XoXo

Childhood memories

The Arrival Young Carlos’s excitement about having a sibling—someone to share adventures with, especially karting—was palpable. But when he learned it was a girl, his disappointment was equally intense. Why couldn’t he have a little brother like he’d hoped? Blanca and Ana had each other for Barbie playdates; why couldn’t he have a buddy too?

His parents tried to console him, suggesting that maybe the new baby would share his love for karting. But Carlos remained unconvinced. It was the night before his sister’s arrival, and he sat with his Papá on the swings, contemplating his impending role.

“You have a really important job now, Carlos,” his Papá said, capturing his attention. “What job, Papá? Am I gonna be a Ninja?” Carlos’s imagination ran wild. But his father’s response was even better: “No, mijo. Something even more significant. With three little sisters now, you need to be their protector. Especially for Amira—she’ll be too little to take care of herself. Can you do that for her, Carlitos?”

Carlos’s promise was unwavering. “Of course, Papá. I’ll be the best big brother for Amira. Promise.”

And so it began—the moment Amira arrived home, she had her personal bodyguard. Carlos took his role seriously, watching over her with fierce determination.

The first Vaccination It was no secret that Carlos loved his little sister dearly. His baby sister, just six months old, had already wrapped him around her tiny finger. And Carlos didn’t mind one bit; in fact, their parents found it utterly sweet.

But when he heard Amira cry during their doctor’s visit, it shattered Carlos’s heart. As a six-month-old, she needed her vaccinations promptly. Like any other baby, Amira wailed when the needle pricked her tiny arm.

The worst part? Carlos felt utterly helpless. His Mamá explained that it was crucial for Amira’s safety to receive all her vaccinations. But he couldn’t bear to hear his sister’s heart-wrenching sobs any longer. Tearfully, he turned to the doctor: “Senora Doctora, can’t you give my sister something else? She’s in so much pain.” He cradled Amira in his arms, holding her like a precious teddy bear.

The doctor and his Mamá exchanged a knowing look. “I’m afraid not, little Señor Carlos,” the doctor replied gently. “However, when we’re done here, little Amira will be protected from all the illnesses out there.” Carlos’s eyes searched hers. “Promise?” he asked. “Promise,” she assured him.

And so, with that solemn vow, Carlos held his sister close, knowing that her well-being was worth every tear shed during those necessary vaccinations.

Stupid Boys Ah, the complexities of sibling dynamics and growing up! Young Carlos found himself in a predicament when his six-year-old sister, Amira, casually dropped the bombshell: “My boyfriend Diego colored me a picture.” Carlos’s reaction was nothing short of dramatic: “Wait, what? What do you mean your boyfriend? Gatita, you’re only six years old!” His protective instincts kicked in, and he couldn’t fathom the idea of his baby sister having a boyfriend already. Before he could say anything else, his sister ran to her older sisters.

Throughout dinner, Carlos attacked his peas with more aggression than necessary. His Mamá, ever observant, asked, “Carlos, what’s wrong, aye? What did the peas do to you?” Blanka, the family joker, chimed in: “Maybe he saw himself in the reflection.” Ana and Amira erupted into giggles, and their father had to intervene with a stern “Girls.”

But Carlos couldn’t let it go. “Amira, you don’t need a boyfriend yet,” he nearly whined. The simultaneous “Boyfriend?” from his parents revealed their differing perspectives. His Mamá seemed delighted, while his Papá sounded more serious. And his sisters? Well, they “uhhhh”-ed in unison.

Amira spilled the beans about Diego, and the whole family listened intently. At the end of her story, their father weighed in: “Your brother is right, mija. You’re too young.” A secret wink followed towards Carlos, and Carlos felt a surge of validation. His father had his back.

As his sisters continued to protest to Papá about the perceived unfairness, Carlos realized that if his sisters were a team with Mamá, he was definitely part of Team Papá.

Easter Bunny Each year his sisters and Carlos would have a sleepover the night before Easter. Carlos, the protective big brother, found himself in a delightful predicament. As he grew older, the magic of Easter began to fade, but for his little sisters, it remained alive and well. They still believed in the Easter Bunny, and their excitement was contagious.

So, when Carlos was abruptly woken up at 5 am on Easter morning, he found all three of his sisters staring at him with wide eyes. Panic filled the room as they whispered about scary noises—perhaps robbers invading their home. Blanca’s sentence hung in the air, unfinished, when another noise echoed through the house.

Carlos knew the truth, of course. It wasn’t robbers; it was their Papá, stealthily placing Easter presents on the staircase. But he couldn’t spoil the magic for his sisters. Instead, he played along: “Dios mío, it’s the Easter Bunny!” Their faces turned toward him, eyes wide with wonder. “Really?” Ana whispered. “Mhm,” Carlos confirmed, “but we have to go back to sleep. Otherwise, the bunny might hop away without leaving our presents.”

Ana and Blanca scrambled to his sides, burrowing under the blanket. Carlos gently lifted little Amira and settled her on his chest. “Now sleep, you three,” he intimated his best Carlos Sainz Sr. voice. And in that moment, surrounded by his sisters, he felt the weight of his promise—the protector of their childhood magic.

Carlos truly was the best big brother out there, weaving enchantment and love into their shared memories.

[mychlapci]

I like to think humans are p much the only beings in the whole universe to figure out contraceptions. Almost all other races have super low birth rates, dont experience pleasure in reproduction (so no recreational sex), and/or have regular harsh conditions that balance the population out. Cybertronians were only just getting to an overburdened population when the war started, but it's not till they get to earth they find out about birth control like

Spike: man its such a pain remembering a condom but smh what are u gonna do yknow im not ready to be a dad

The autobots, half who are trying to hide their pregnancies and the other half with part fried processors bc theyre overcharged by attempting abstinence: a what?

Which of course leads to typical g1 shenanigans as they try to figure out contraceptions for cybertronians (not helped by wheeljack's attempts often backfiring - spike now understanding the poor bastard has been limping along in his projects for centuries bc they cant spare wheeljack for maternity leave).

And of COURSE decepticons have to get involved with their own attempts at making their own and trying to sabotage the autobot's. Which leads to Spike having to tell the autobots the whole "nothing except abstinence is 100% guaranteed" and if the autobots had hair to pull out, they would.

It’s so funny to think that cybertronians never thought of creating their own contraceptives nor have they ever managed to encounter a species that had enough sex to bother with such things. Until Earth, of course. Also, did no one tell them about pulling out?

when they're on Earth, so many of them are already pregnant. They can’t afford more soldiers to go off duty because of their growing bellies, it’s a big rush to create protection that actually works and is comfortable to use, otherwise they’re all going to end up too pregnant to fight, autobots and decepticons alike. 

Of course they fail miserably… spike-caps that choke the spike and cause chafing in the valve, gestation tank seals that are uncomfortable and rust, whatever the hell that Wheeljack comes up with, most of which exploded, thankfully not inside of any cybertronian, since no one was willing to actually try and test Wheeljack’s contraception. 

… Part of me hopes that Nothing works. They are either bound to fizzle with charge until the end of time or keep on having babies. Another part of me wants them to figure it out and have full blown orgies for days on end. The war is put on the backburner bacause they’re all just fucking each other constantly.

[seungkw1]

maestro — ljh // chapter 1

⛧ pairing: lee jihoon x afab!reader (reader uses she/her pronouns) ⛧ theme: fantasy, suggestive (18+ smut in future chapters) ⛧ chapter wc: 2.7k ⛧ warnings: minor knife violence ⛧ a/n: when i tell u that lee jihoon wrecked me sooooo bad this comeback !!!! the maestro mv was fully giving villain!woozi and my brain took that and absolutely ran with it. also, this is my first chapter fic!! much more to come, stay tuned <3

Your knowledge of the enemy is minimal, but what is known for certain is this: the Maestro is a dark and powerful sorcerer that is not to be trifled with - and you’ve just walked right into his trap.

You fucked up.

Your task was simple enough: sneak into the palace, steal the ring, and get the hell out. You’ve done countless jobs like this over the years - you're a professional for fuck’s sake. Sure, this gig was a bit more high-profile than usual, but nothing you couldn't handle. 

Yet somehow, they caught you. 

You rack your brain for a clue - something, anything, to indicate what went wrong. But you come up blank. Everything had gone according to plan (up until you found yourself surrounded by imperial guards with a knife at your throat, anyway), not a single detail overlooked. Something is off here, your instinct tells you. 

Here you are now, being forcefully escorted through the palace’s underlevels by a squad of imperial goons. The head goon hauls you through the dim hallways, his grip on your arm painfully tight, knife drawn and at the ready in case you were to try something foolish. A dark mask covers his lower face, so he's hard to get a read on, but you can tell he’s nothing more than a large, brainless oaf. You’ve single-handedly outwitted enemies like him in the past - but here, you are far too outnumbered. For the time being, you comply. 

You arrive at a large steel door, adorned only by a small barred window in its middle. With a rough shove the guard pushes you into the cell - you fall to the ground, your palms striking the cold stone floor. The hinges let out a horrid creaking sound before the door slams shut with a loud CLANG. You hear the clunking of a heavy chain, then the click of a padlock. Footsteps fade away as the imperial squad retreats - then, silence. You are all alone, trapped, imprisoned in this musty cell, somewhere in the depths of the Maestro’s palace. 

You sit on the hard ground, alone with your thoughts. The more you think about it, the only explanation is that this was a setup. But the Agency’s entire job is to sift through lies and misinformation; if this was a trap, there must be something larger at play - something elaborate, sinister. 

Unfortunately for you, you have nothing but time to try and piece together this puzzle. You lean your head against the stone wall, trying to figure out how the fuck you're gonna get yourself out of this mess. 

The absence of natural light leaves you with no way of telling time. The silence grows eerie. Your mind wanders, imagination soon running wild. You’ve heard of people who lose their minds within days of solitary confinement. Will that happen to me?, you can’t help but wonder. How long will I be here? Are they going to bring me food, or am I doomed to die of starvation? How did I even end up here? What are they planning to do with me? What if they forget about me? What if…

Your mind grows weary. You decide to lay down - no use in staying awake and overthinking. You rest your head on the gravelly floor - it’s uncomfortable, but your eyelids soon become heavy. You drift in and out of consciousness, strange visions and voices floating through your mind. Before long, you are asleep.

You’re running. You don’t know where to, but you are running through winding, endless corridors. Running from… something. You don’t know what. The sound of your racing heartbeat pounds in your ears, surpassed only by the heaving pants of your labored breathing. The neverending halls begin to expand around you - they grow larger and larger, disorienting your sense of perception. From behind, unsettling noises draw nearer and nearer: screeching echoes, thunderous crashes, wicked laughter. You run, but it’s not fast enough. The horrid sounds infiltrate your mind, reverberating through your skull so loudly you feel as if your head is about to explode. Suddenly, through blurred vision you see the hallway’s end; at it stands a cloaked figure, facing away from you. You can’t see anything else of the entity, but you sense the dark energy that surrounds it. Dread wells in the pit of your stomach, filling you with terror - but, for some reason, you are drawn to the malevolent being. Their presence is magnetic, alluring - frightening, but seductive. You press on - you don’t know why, but you must get to them. Your legs feel as if they’ve turned to lead - each footstep slowing you down further. You’re almost there, almost, almost… finally - the figure is within arm’s reach. In excruciating slow motion, you extend your hand toward them. Your fingertips graze the black cloak, its woven texture coarse against your skin. Your hand glides over the thick fabric - you close your grip around their shoulder, forcefully turning them around to face you. You lift your gaze to look at their face-

BANG.

You jolt awake in a panic. Disoriented, heart pounding, it takes you a moment to realize you’re still in the cold, dark prison cell. Faint light enters the room through the now-open doorway. Standing in it is a tall, thin man - you can barely make out his face, but his presence is unsettling. He peers down at you, his piercing eyes practically boring a hole into your head. 

“Come with me,” is all he says. 

You blink dully a few times, still not fully lucid. You try to process what all is happening, but your dream (nightmare?) weighs heavily at the forefront of your mind. The odious man quickly becomes irritated.

“GET UP!” he bellows at you.

You rise, stumbling to your feet. Two guards enter from behind him, swiftly seizing hold of your arms and yanking you out of the cell. They halt in front of the man. An unpleasant scowl seems permanently engraved on his face. He smirks at you.

“Well aren’t you pretty.”

You spit on the ground in front of his feet. The man glares at you with vitriol. He draws a short sword from the depths of his cloak, pointing it at your face. He traces the razor-sharp tip lightly across your cheek.

“Act like that again,” he sneers. With a quick flick of the wrist he delivers a small slash into your cheekbone. You barely flinch.

“And I’ll carve some very permanent scars into that pretty little face of yours.”

You stare at him, but say nothing. With a huff he turns, sauntering off into the hallway.

“Come along now. The Maestro wants to see you.”

—

The first thing you notice upon entering the chamber is the hundreds of candles set alight, illuminating the otherwise unlit space. The second is the hooded figure seated upon the throne at the room’s distant end, reclining arrogantly - watching you intensely. 

You hadn’t seen their face, but you know: it is the figure from your dream.

The guards stand you before the Maestro. You still can’t see their face. The thin man who summoned you steps forward, giving a small bow to his master.

“The thief, Your Majesty.”

The Maestro leans forward. Their face, previously shadowed, becomes illuminated in the candlelight: you see a man, much younger than anticipated - and strikingly beautiful. His eyes, adorned with dark makeup, peer up and down your body, studying you. He rises, nonchalantly descending the few steps before him; the clacking of his boots against the dark marble echoes through the otherwise silent chamber. He strolls toward you, maintaining eye contact, coming to a stop within mere inches of you. Slowly he removes his hood, revealing a head of long pale tresses. Up close, he is even more stunning. 

The man lifts his hand, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts your head, observing the cut on your cheek.

“I told you to bring me the prisoner unharmed,” he scolds his servant. His gaze doesn’t stray from your face.

The subordinate’s face drops. “Apologies, my liege,” he responds hesitantly. “I-”

“Leave.”

He says nothing else. The servant’s eyes darken with fear. “My liege-”

The man before you motions to the guards. “Take him away.”

The guards seize the man, dragging him from the chamber in silence. The door closes with a heavy thud. You are now alone with the enemy. 

Your existing knowledge of the mysterious individual known as the Maestro is minimal - you have a fairly high level of clearance within the Agency, but even there the details are sparse. Rumors abound, but what is known for certain is this: the Maestro is a dark and powerful sorcerer, and is not to be trifled with.

You watch the man before you intently as he turns on his heels, meandering casually across the room, hands behind his back. Undoubtedly, his presence is intimidating; but admittedly he does not seem to be nearly the loathsome monster you’ve been led to believe he is. Regardless, you will not be letting your guard down. 

“My apologies for the poor treatment you have received thus far,” the man starts as he resumes his seat upon the large, ornate chair. A bowl of deep-purple grapes sits on the table beside him; he reclines again, reaching for the supple fruits. He plucks a particularly round grape from its stem, drawing it to his lips - he places it upon his tongue, holding it there momentarily before biting down, its juicy flesh bursting within his mouth. He chews, his eyes fixated upon you. He swallows before continuing.

“I had to ensure you were who I thought you were, and not some irrelevant member of the Agency.”

You grimace, displeased to learn that your suspicions were correct. He did know about the mission, and presumably the Agency’s agenda too. If that’s the case, then how much else does he know…

You’re itching to ask him who exactly he thinks you are, but you hold your tongue. You know better than to engage with the enemy unless absolutely necessary.

“But now that I am certain, I assure you you will receive nothing but the finest accommodations.” 

You say nothing. He eats another grape. You’ve been staring for far too long when you realize his plush lips seem to have you in a trance; you quickly return to glaring at him.

A few moments of silence pass. The intense eye contact he sustains stirs up a sensation within you - not fear, not worry, but rather… intrigue. You know the man is dangerous, yet here you are - simply captivated by him. You silently curse yourself for allowing emotion to infiltrate your mind like this. You’re smarter than this. Get your shit together.

“Refusing to speak, I see. Very well then. But aren’t you curious?” He leans forward, taunting you. “You know I hold the answers you seek, y/n.”

Your stomach drops. He just called you by your real name. Members of the Agency are exclusively referred to by their code names - even amongst colleagues, true identities remain concealed. How does he…

Your face remains stoic, indifferent, but he smirks. He can read you like an open book, and he knows you know it. 

“Go on, question me. You must see there is no threat here - I am unarmed. You may speak freely.”

You know that’s an absolute crock of bullshit. A cunning sorcerer is never truly unarmed - god knows what he could conjure up in the blink of an eye. But, admittedly he does have a point. You very well may die here - might as well get some fucking answers first. 

“How did you know I was coming?” you ask coldly.

A sly grin appears on his face. “Ah, she speaks! Good girl.” You scowl at him; he continues. “It’s simple, really - it was me who allowed the Agency to ‘discover’ the location of the palace. I made sure their little reconnaissance efforts would lead them to send their most skilled operative to retrieve the ring.”

“You wanted the ring to be stolen.”

“No. I wanted the ring to be stolen by you.”

You pause at his unexpected words. What?

Every neuron in your brain is screaming at you to be silent, don’t play into his little games. But you open your mouth anyway.

“And why me?” 

“Oh, I’ve had my eyes on you for quite some time, darling.”

Your stomach jolts. He said it so nonchalantly, as if he was telling you the weather rather than admitting he’s been watching your every move for god knows how long.

You stare at him incredulously. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He simply shakes his head. “Patience - you will learn the whole story in due time. Guards!”

A new pair of imperials, much more polished and intelligent-looking than their brutish counterparts you’ve dealt with thus far, enter the room. 

“Please escort my guest to her bedchamber for the night. I must retire.”

The guards steer you toward the hallway. You follow without resistance. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” the man calls as you step through the doorway. You glimpse back: he is seated in the same position, watching you intensely. You catch a curious look in his eye, one you can’t quite read. He disappears as the heavy door shuts behind you.

—

As promised, your new accommodations are satisfactory - lavish, even. You’ve never seen a room with so many ornate embellishments, nor a bed with so many cushions and fine coverings. The washroom was equally fanciful, offering a large tub and luxurious-looking towels. Enticing, certainly, but at this point you are exhausted, and simply want to sleep anywhere that isn’t a cold stone floor. You lay upon the bed, not even bothering to retreat under the covers. Within seconds, you drift off to sleep.

You find yourself in the same hallway again - this time, not running, but merely standing behind the cloaked figure. You extend your hand, grabbing his shoulder and turning him round. You raise your eyes, meeting his gaze - but where his eyes should be, you only found blackness. You stare into the void of his sockets, hypnotized in fear, their darkness seeming to infiltrate your soul. He draws a dagger from his cloak, shoving you into the wall and placing it against your throat. You feel its pressure, but it does not break skin. He draws his face into yours, tenderly placing his lips upon your cheekbone - right atop your freshly-scarring cut. He kisses you - slowly, fervidly, his lips burning against your skin, but instead of pain you feel only pleasure. His free hand wraps around the small of your back, pulling your torso into his, holding you tightly against his blisteringly-hot form. The dagger remains perilously at your throat, a constant reminder of the power he holds over you. His lips parts from your cheek as he draws his head back, looking at you once again, the abysmal darkness of his stare penetrating through you. Slowly, he leans in, his lips converging on yours. Your mouth reaches for his, wanting for his kiss, yearning for his taste- 

Your eyes open. There are no windows in your room, but you get the sense that it is morning, midday perhaps. Dazed, you try to wake yourself up, but your mind keeps drifting back to your dream - to the man who has somehow infiltrated your subconscious. You raise your hand to your face, running your fingertips over your wound, but…

Quickly, you sit up, tossing your feet to the floor and heading toward the washroom. You approach the mirror, peering your face in close to the glass. Where there should have been a fresh scar: nothing. Not a mark on your skin. 

You frown. You don’t know what this means, but you suspect nothing good will come of it. 

A knock comes from the door. You hear the turn of the lock, followed by the creaking of the door swinging open. A young female servant enters, carrying a bundle of fabrics. A second follows, placing a tea set on the small table.

“You are expected at supper today,” the first woman informs you curtly. She places the fabrics upon your bed. “Wash up and dress in fresh clothes.” The two leave swiftly without another word.

You let out a sigh of annoyance. So this is how it’s going to be then. Fine - I’ll play along with his little games. You glance back at the mirror. A tired face looks back at you, grimacing.

Not like I have much of a choice anyway.

⛧ chapter 2: coming soon ⛧

[appleflavoredkitkats]

do you have any headcanons on what russell went through during his time with the utopians?

HELLO ISSY!! im in the middle of plotting my version of ivywood so i have SOME things... but not everything is fully fleshed out! here r some of them (under the cut!)

since it's sort of implied that russell's been raised there since birth/childhood, i feel like his parents only joined because they were struggling financially, which the utopians would have aided

i do think russell would have HATED the strict regulations at a young age. like obviously, he would still grow to adapt to some things (ie. desperate need to prove himself worthy, because the utopians would have deprived that of their followers) but to me, russell is just too much of a curious child. he wouldn't have kept his curiosities at bay, especially since he loved learning about more mind-boggling things like cryptic codes, linguistics, the human brain, etc. at a young age

i think this guy! would have been a very lonely child! esp since he's austistic and trans! since he's afab, i feel like his autism diagnosis would have come in late (like maybe 10 years old?) and that's the same time he would have realized he was trans. so he basically became a disappointment amongst the utopians. like parents would tell their kids that russell would be the child NOT to imitate u get me

but i feel like as much as i think russell would come out of this with insecurities, i think his pride is one of the reasons that got him out of there in the first place? and i mean, call him egotistical all you want, but the last thing russell would want to do is doubt his capabilities because that's EXACTLY what the utopians would have wanted.

in my version of ivywood, i made "once upon a crime" happen AFTER "wild wild death" because i hc that trevor neuman was responsible for russell's interest in psychology. but don't get it twisted, he doesn't rlly like the kid- rather, the higher-ups in utopia saw potential in his intelligence and wanted to profit off of that. to me, russell might have possibly made the foundations for their brainwashing mechanism, but russell himself doesn't realize that it actually works

i do think russell was genuinely close to his parents, although they don't get along all the time because the two are depressed servants of the cult. i do think russell would have had a closer bond to his mother though. i'd like to think she actually helped russell escape at 16. the only reason she didn't go with him was because she wanted to convince jupiter to go with her, but he adamantly refused out of fear.

the higher-ups definitely knew that caroline (russell's mom) assisted his escape and so they would have murdered her and framed it as an accident. when this happened, they utilized jupiter's grief to make him stay in utopia even longer.

after hearing news about his mom's death, russell would have sneakily watched the funeral from afar. that's when he received the note that says he has nowhere to hide.

i need to flesh this out even more, but i definitely think russell reached out to the pbpd after he escaped. i think it would be funny if andrea assigned frank to look after him, at least up until russell finds a secure job to move out lol. there is a reason these two are at each other's throats all the time !

to return to the utopians though, i genuinely think that the fact russell was raised in a cult fucked up his sense of identity and vulnerability, in a sense that. this mfker HATES showing his true self to anyone in fear of it being used against him. his flirty, manipulative mask is definitely just. a mask. because it's a survival skill he developed after escaping !

moreover i do think he gets impostor syndrome sometimes because as much as he's a genuinely prideful person, sometimes he thinks he feels the need to grab everyone's attention because he was so deprived of it when he was young. so sometimes he does have to grapple with that, because he HATES thinking that a part of him is still disgustingly utopian

[appleciders]

middle school boys who are so scared of becoming fat that they don’t eat. like you are a twelve year old boy what the fuck do you mean you didn’t eat for the whole day before your cross country meet. fucking hell i hate it here

[ryllen]

do u know that even the size of the different size of vegetables at another country amazed me because from where i came from they are all smaller and scrawnier