Maxé writes @arminmy4ss - Tumblr Blog

.⊹˖ᯓ★. ݁₊ Masterlist ₊ ݁.★ᯓ ˖⊹.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽˖ ݁𖥔. Hi, pretty!! I am Maxélla and I like to write down what happens in my head sometimes! Welcome to all of my works. I mainly write smut, but also fluff.

Blog and Request Rules + fandoms —> here

I am currently dealing with some health issues as well as a lot of uni work but i will return! Thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy your stay! ㅤꨄ︎

Started: Thursday, July 17th, 2025

Last updated: Monday, January 26th , 2026

Alice In Borderland

Ryōhei Arisu

Wet Dreams: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

☼ Summary: Arisu and you met during a game, traveled together, as friends. But now that you two live at the beach, something different than the want to survive comes into the picture…

⟡ Total Word Count: 4,9k

☾ Type: smut

Wired Confession

☼ Summary: You and Arisu share wired headphones and realise how much you like eachother.

⟡ Word Count: 1k

☾ Type: fluff

Two Of Hearts

☼ Summary: you ask arisu to come with you and kuina to take emma. He's against it at first but takes a pill anyway. When he gets up to go to his room, you go with him.

⟡ Word Count: 2,4k

☾ Type: smut

.ᐟTechnically Gender neutral reader .ᐟ

Matsuyama Ryuji

☼ Summary: Your TA is really hot and maybe he likes too.

⟡ Total Word Count: 21,2k

☾ Type: smut, (later) fluff

Attack On Titan

Armin Arlert

Tactical Error (potential multi-part; being written…)

☼ Summary: You and Armin are both strategists and put together in one team to design plans. You hate eachother and are send on a date together to work this tension out. Works a little to well.

⟡ Word Count: ??

☾ Type: smut, fluff

Death Note

L. Lawliet

Forbidden Candy

☼ Summary: You are a criminal, chased by the famous L. For some reason, everytime he caught you before, he let you escape again—which is why the police decided to stop working together with him. But this time, he isnt planning on letting you off the hook that easily…

⟡ Word Count: 2.6

☾ Type: smut

One piece

Roronoa Zoro

No Vacancy

☼ Summary: When the inn you're staying at on an island runs out of rooms, you and zoro are forced by the others to share one room—and one bed. You both don’t like each other and the others think you might work things out and get along better. He comes into the room very drunk and… well.

⟡ Word Count: 3.7k

☾ Type: smut

Dockside drama (idk abt the title tho, being written…)

☼ Summary: A flirtatious local takes a little too much interest in you, and Zoro’s irritation is impossible to miss.

⟡ Word Count: ??

☾ Type: ??(probably smut)

Vinsmoke Sanji

Crowded Quarters (also dk abt this title, being written…)

☼ Summary: You go shopping with Sanji at a crowded market. The crowded streets mean walking pressed close together, holding hands to not get separated. They linger longer than they need to.

⟡ Word Count: ??

☾ Type: ??(probably fluff)

Squid game

Nam-gyu

Attention (being written…)

☼ Summary: You and Nam-gyu broke up and you go to the club he works at to make him jealous.

⟡ Word Count: ??

☾ Type: smut

Dirty Little Secret

☼ Summary: After the six legged pentathlon, at night, you have to go pee. Nam-gyu also goes. You don’t like him—or pretend to. Semi, your only friend, hates him after all. At the toilet well you and nam-gyu fuck and its clear: se-min can not know any of this.

⟡ Word Count: 1,7k

☾ Type: smut

Discount: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

☼ Summary: You owe Deok-su a debt. Nam-gyu is assigned to “collect” it. You don’t have the money, but instead of hurting you, he tells you he is willing to give you a discount if you earn it.

⟡ Total Word Count: 7,8k

☾ Type: smut

“Missed Me?”

☼ Summary: Your Ex Bf got released from prison earlier than expected.

⟡ Word Count: 4,1k

☾ Type: smut

Side Effects

☼ Summary: You and Nam-gyu take drugs that he got, he swears they’re the good stuff. They are. What you both dont know: They're laced with an aphrodisiac.

⟡ Word Count: 3k

☾ Type: smut

The Real Thing

☼ Summary: Your roommate, Nam-gyu, catches you watching roommate porn.

⟡ Word Count: 2,4k

☾ Type: smut

Sweet Home

Cha Hyun-soo

Stay with me

☼ Summary: You have symptoms and have to go in quarantine, you’re alone in there with Hyun-soo. You start crying because youre scared and he comforts you. (!takes place during season 1, spoiler free!)

⟡ Word Count: 2,3k

☾ Type: kinda fluff, smut

Weak Hero Class

Yeon Si-eun

Extra Credit

☼ Summary: You and Si-eun became (academic) rivals. At a party he confronts you. Maybe you don’t hate each other that much.

⟡ Word Count: 3,7k

☾ Type: smut

⸻

If anyone would like to be tagged in all of my fics or for one or more characters specifically comment this post

your ryuji fic... so peak i shed a tear omg its so finger licking good (honestly the best ryuji fic ive read so far aughhh its too good) THANK YOU FOR FEEDING US CHEF FIVE MICHELLIN STARS

THANK YOU I LOVE YOU

I‘LL DO MY BEST IN COOKING UP MORE; BUSY RN BUT YOU GAVE ME MY MOTIVATION BACK GIRL

#arminmy4ss #maxéyap

Oh what I‘m doing?

Physically restraining myself from beating up my professor 🤗

#arminmy4ss #maxéyap

I can’t put into words how much i hate my professor. Oh my god. I guess he thinks i don’t have anthing to do in my free time. I genuinely believe he thinks im bored, what the actual fuck

AND ANOTHER WEEK DOWN THE FUCKING DRAIN

I am so angry right now, so, so angry

#arminmy4ss #maxéyap

Y’all im so sorry for not updating, theres just a lot been going on in my life lately. I hope i can post again soon!

I love you

#arminmy4ss #maxéyap

No cuz wdym its 12° F/-11° C tomorrow? ON A MONDAY?

Girl i don’t even live in cold country like that

#arminmy4ss #maxéyap

Learning Curve (ch. 10) — Matsuyama Ryuji, Alice In Borderland

Word Count: 3k

A/N: hey y’all! I thought i’d cook up a longer one for you today, hope you enjoy :P

—

Ryuji gets to the seminar room twenty minutes early.

Not because he needs to. But because sitting in his office felt worse.

The air smells like old carpet and chalk. He wheels to the far end of the table, sets his laptop down, opens it. Closes it. Opens it again.

He forgot his charger.

He sighs loudly, hoping it will be louder than his stupid heart.

Doesn’t matter. It’s at ninety percent. That’s enough. Surely.

He pulls out his notebook instead—the one with the agenda he wrote last night, then rewrote this morning. He glances at the door, just to make sure it’s shut.

It is.

It’s fine.

He smooths the page flat even though there’s no crease.

The door is still shut. Outside it’s busy—of course it is. It’s midday at a university. If he stayed still, he could probably hear little snippets of conversations from the hallway.

But he doesn’t stay still.

His hand moves to the brake on his chair. Clicks it. Unclicks it. Clicks it again.

He exhales through his nose.

He’s done this before.

Except he hasn’t. Not like this.

Not with someone who wrote his name in her pink little notebook like that. Drew him over and over and over again. Not with someone like you.

He shuts his eyes.

Don’t.

But the thought’s already there.

Your handwriting. The little heart next to your name. The way you underlined “I did it” three times, and how he still doesn’t know what it was—except he does, he’s pretty sure he does, and that’s the problem.

And if it’s what he thinks it is, he did it too.

He opens his eyes and stares at the door again.

Professional. That’s all this is.

His mouth feels dry.

He reaches for his water bottle. It’s almost empty.

Of course it is.

He drinks the last bit and reaches to put the bottle into his bag.

A knock at the door.

His hand freezes halfway to his bag, and his eyes flick to the door. “Yes?”

The handle moves down and—

“Hello, Mr. Matsuyama.”

“Hello, Takao.” He sounds almost disappointed.

He watches as the young student bows and pulls back the chair next to him. “Thank you so much for this opportunity again,” Takao says, bowing again, then sitting down.

“Of course. You’re qualified, so you don’t have to thank me.” Ryuji manages a small smile.

Another knock on the door. “Yes?” he chokes out, and the door opens.

Another student enters the room and bows quickly, then straightens and fixes his glasses. “Hello, Mr. Matsuyama and—” he nods to Takao with a smile.

“Takao. Hello to you too…” Takao bows slightly in his seat, returning the smile as he tilts his head out of curiosity.

“Koji.” The student moves to sit down next to Takao, then does the same as him: thanks Ryuji. Ryuji repeats the same answer.

Then he looks at his wrist, but his watch isn’t there. God, what is up with him? He never forgets his watch.

He pulls out his phone. 13:57.

Where are you?

He reaches for his water bottle again. Shit—right.

He looks at his wrist again. Oh my god.

What is he even doing right now?

He opens his notebook again and reads over the agenda. The words blur together.

Another knock. He flinches slightly, straightens. “Yeah?”

The door opens and Mina enters—and behind her, you.

Ryuji stiffens immediately.

“Hello…” Mina starts, but Ryuji barely hears her.

Because you’re standing there in the doorway, and the entire room feels smaller.

You’re holding your bag in front of you with both hands, fingers tight on the strap. Your eyes meet his for half a second, then dart away—toward the table, the chairs, anywhere but him.

“Hi,” you say, and your voice does something to his chest he doesn’t have a name for.

“Hello,” he says back, and it comes out steadier than he expected.

Mina moves into the room first, pulling out the chair across from Takao. You follow, slower, like you’re not sure where to sit.

Ryuji’s eyes track you without meaning to.

You choose the seat at the far end—farthest from him.

Of course you do.

He clears his throat and folds his hands on the table. “Thank you all for coming,” he says, and his voice sounds almost normal. Professional. Like he practiced.

Takao and Koji nod. Mina and you smile.

Ryuji opens his notebook, flips to the agenda, and tries to pretend his pulse isn’t hammering in his ears.

“So,” he begins, “let’s start with introductions. I know some of you already, but for the sake of the group—”

He gestures to Takao, who introduces himself confidently.

Then Koji. Polite, articulate, maybe a little nervous.

Then Mina.

And then—

Ryuji’s eyes move to you.

You glance up, finally, and the air between you feels like static.

“Um,” you start, and your voice is quieter than the others. “I’m—” You say your name. “I’m a third-year psychology student. I’m… really interested in behavioral analysis and, um… yeah.”

You trail off, fingers twisting the strap of your bag again.

“Thank you,” Ryuji says, and his voice comes out softer than he meant it to.

Your eyes flick to his again—just for a second—and then away.

Mina leans forward slightly when Takao finishes talking, chin resting on her hand. “So you’re working on cognitive dissonance models?” she asks, eyes bright. “That’s really cool.”

Takao grins. “Thanks. It’s been interesting so far.”

Ryuji notices the way Mina’s smile widens. The way she tilts her head just a little.

Oh.

He glances at you. You’re watching them too, but there’s something almost amused in your expression—like you’ve already clocked it.

Koji adjusts his glasses and flips open his own notebook. “I’d actually love to hear more about that later,” he says to Takao. “I’m working on something adjacent—decision-making under social pressure.”

“Oh, for sure,” Takao says, and when their eyes meet, something shifts. Just barely. A beat too long.

Your lips twitch, like you’re holding back a smile.

Ryuji looks back down at his agenda and tries not to think about why he noticed Koji sitting close to you in the first place.

Or why it bothers him.

“Right,” Ryuji says, clearing his throat. “So let’s talk about the project structure.”

He goes through the agenda point by point—research goals, timeline, division of tasks. His voice stays even, controlled. Professional.

“Most of the work will be transcription and analysis,” he explains. “I’ll be conducting interviews over the next few weeks, and I’ll need help organizing the data. Some of you will transcribe audio files, others will help code responses and identify patterns.”

Takao nods. “Sounds straightforward.”

“It is,” Ryuji says. “But it’s detail-oriented. Accuracy matters.”

He glances around the table. “I’ll also need help with visual summaries—charts, diagrams, anything that makes the findings easier to present.”

Your pen pauses on the page.

Diagrams.

That’s why he asked you.

“Takao,” Ryuji continues, “you’ll handle the bulk of the transcription. You’re quick and thorough—I’ve seen your work before.”

“Got it.”

“Koji, you’ll help with coding the interview responses. I’ll give you the framework, but I’ll need you to flag any recurring themes.”

Koji adjusts his glasses. “No problem.”

Mina leans forward. “What about me?”

“You and—” He hesitates again, eyes flicking to you. “—you’ll both work on organizing the data and creating visual summaries. Graphs, comparison charts, anything that makes the report clearer.”

You nod.

Mina is still watching Takao, who’s nodding along to something Koji just said.

He clears his throat. “We’ll meet weekly to check progress. I’ll send out a shared folder with the initial materials tonight. And I’ll also organize a room where you can work on this project in peace.”

“Sounds good,” Takao says.

Koji stretches slightly. “This is gonna be interesting.” When he glances at Takao, a smile is on his face.

Ryuji looks at you again but you’re already looking at him.

Shit.

He looks down at his notebook.

Professional, he reminds himself.

But when he glances up again, you’re biting your lip, staring at the table like it might swallow you whole.

And all he can think is—

God, I’m so fucked.

Ryuji closes his notebook with a soft snap. “That’s everything for today.”

He gathers his papers, stacking them with the same careful precision he always uses. “If you have questions, you can come to my office. As I said, I’ll send the shared folder later tonight.”

He wheels toward the door, then pauses, turning back.

His eyes sweep over the four of you—but they catch on you.

Just for a second.

“Goodbye,” he says.

You all bow slightly. He returns it, then leaves.

The door clicks shut behind him.

For a moment, no one speaks.

Then Takao leans back in his chair. “So—do we wanna exchange numbers?”

“Sure,” Koji says, already pulling out his phone.

Mina does the same. You follow, fingers moving on autopilot.

A moment later, your phone buzzes. You’re in a group chat now: Mina, ‘Takao :)’, and ‘Kojii :P’.

“Cool.” Takao glances at Koji, then at you and Mina. He pushes his chair back. “Wanna grab something to eat?”

“Sure,” Koji answers immediately.

You and Mina exchange a look.

She shrugs. You shrug back.

“Yeah, okay,” Mina says.

“Sure,” you add quietly.

Takao grins. “Great. There’s a ramen place like two blocks from here.”

The four of you gather your things and head out into the hallway. It’s quieter now—most classes are done for the day. The light from the windows is softer, almost golden.

Mina falls into step beside you as Takao and Koji walk ahead, already deep in conversation about something you can’t quite hear.

“They’re cute,” Mina whispers, nodding toward them.

You glance up. Takao’s gesturing with his hands, animated. Koji’s smiling, head tilted slightly as he listens.

“Yeah,” you murmur back.

“I think Takao’s really smart,” Mina adds, a little too casually.

You bite back a smile. “Uh-huh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” You grin. “Just—uh-huh.”

She elbows you lightly. “Shut up.”

You laugh, and for a moment, the tension from earlier loosens. Just a little.

Outside, the pavement glistens under the streetlights, and the sky is that strange in-between color—not quite day, not quite night.

Takao leads the way, Koji beside him. Mina trails just behind them, stealing glances.

You’re at the back, phone in hand, staring at the group chat notification.

‘Project Team’ is what Takao named it.

You scroll up. There’s already a message from him:

Takao :): excited to work with u guys! this is gonna be fun

Everyone glances at him and laughs.

Kojii :P: same! lmk if anyone needs help with anything

Mina: cant wait :)

You start typing, then delete it. Start again. Delete again.

Finally, you just send:

You: me too

You slip your phone into your pocket and glance up—just in time to see Takao holding the door open for all of you at the ramen shop.

“After you,” he says with a grin.

Mina smiles. Koji thanks him quietly.

You nod and step inside.

The warmth hits you immediately—steam rising from bowls, the low murmur of conversation, the smell of broth and garlic and something savory you can’t name.

It’s crowded, but not uncomfortably so. You find a booth near the back, and the four of you slide in—Takao and Koji on one side, you and Mina on the other.

Menus are passed around. You pretend to read yours, but the words blur together.

Your mind is still in that seminar room.

The way Mr. Matsuyama’s voice softened when he said your name.

The way his eyes lingered just a second too long before he left.

“What are you getting?”

You blink. Mina’s looking at you, eyebrows raised.

“Oh—uh…” You glance down at the menu. “Probably just the miso ramen.”

“Boring,” she teases.

“It’s classic,” you defend.

Takao laughs. “I’m getting the spicy tonkotsu.”

“Same,” Koji says.

Mina hums. “I’ll do the shoyu.”

The waiter comes by, and you all order. Takao orders an extra side of gyoza “for the table,” which makes Koji smile.

When the waiter leaves, conversation picks up again—easier now, more relaxed.

Takao asks Koji about his previous research. Koji asks Mina and you about your classes.

Your phone buzzes.

You glance down.

It’s an email.

From: Ryuji Matsuyama

Subject: Project Materials

Your heart skips.

You unlock your phone, hands suddenly unsteady.

Hi everyone, Attached is the shared folder with the initial interview transcripts and coding framework. Please review them before our next meeting. Let me know if you have any questions. R. Matsuyama

It’s professional. Polite. Completely normal.

But your eyes catch on the sign-off.

R. Matsuyama.

Not Ryuji Matsuyama.

Just R.

You stare at it longer than you should.

“You good?”

You look up. Mina’s watching you, concerned.

“Yeah,” you say quickly, locking your phone. “Just an email from Mr. Matsuyama. He sent the folder.”

“Oh, already?” Takao leans forward. “Damn, he’s efficient.”

“Yeah,” you murmur.

Koji checks his phone. “Got it too. I’ll look at it later.”

The food arrives, steaming and perfect. Everyone digs in, and the conversation shifts.

“So what was your worst dating experience?” Mina asks Takao.

He looks surprised. “My worst dating experience? Woah, let me think…” His eyes trail off, then light up after a bit. “One time I was drinking with a girl, must’ve been our 3rd date or something.”

Your eyes catch Koji’s expression. He looked interested just a second ago, but now he’s staring into his bowl, not even really listening.

“Anyway we kissed and yeah then she threw up.” Takao continues.

Mina can’t help but laugh. “What?”

“Right in my mouth,” Takao adds, grimacing. “It was—god, it was so bad.”

Mina covers her mouth, half-horrified, half-laughing. “Oh my god, no.”

“Yeah. Never saw her again after that.” He shrugs. “Can’t really blame her.”

You snort, trying not to laugh too loudly. But when you glance at Koji again, he’s still just… staring. Jaw tight. Chopsticks frozen halfway to his mouth.

Mina’s oblivious. “That’s awful. Poor girl, though.”

“Poor me,” Takao laughs. “I had to brush my teeth like four times.”

“What about you, Koji?” Mina asks, turning to him with a grin. “Worst date?”

Koji blinks, like he’s only just tuned back in. “Oh—uh…” He adjusts his glasses, clearly scrambling. “I don’t really… date much.”

“Come on,” Mina presses. “Not even one bad experience?”

He hesitates. “I guess… I went to a movie once with someone. And they talked through the whole thing.”

Takao groans. “That’s the worst.”

“Yeah,” Koji says quietly. He still won’t look at Takao.

You take a sip of water, watching the two of them.

Mina turns to you, already grinning. “Your turn.”

You give her a look. “I literally have nothing.”

“Bullshit.” She kicks you lightly under the table. “What about that guy from last year?”

“We went on like one date and he spent the whole time talking about his ex.”

“See!” Mina points at you triumphantly. “That counts.”

Takao winces. “Ooh. Yeah, that’s bad.”

“Right?” You shake your head. “I left halfway through.”

Mina’s still looking at you.

“What?” you ask, already defensive.

“Nothing.” She grins. “You just keep checking your phone constantly. Are you going somewhere later?”

“I do not—”

“You literally just did it like two minutes ago.”

You kick her under the table. “Shut up.”

She grins wider. “Is it a guy?”

“Mina—”

“It is.” Her eyes light up. “Oh my god, who?”

“No one.”

“Liar.”

“What was your worst dating experience, Mina?” you ask loudly, desperate to change the subject.

She thinks for a second. “Oh! One time a guy picked me up in his car to go get dinner, but on the way there he…” She covers her face with her hand. “He farted and—well, it sounded like more than that too…”

“Oh my God, ew.” Takao grimaces while Koji just stares at her, disgusted.

“Ew, why would you pick that story, Mina? We’re eating!” You feel the need to cover your nose.

“Well, it is my worst dating experience!” Mina protests.

“You could’ve picked the one where that guy’s credit card declined.”

“But that’s boring.”

You roll your eyes while biting back a laugh. “Or the time someone left you standing on the date because his ex showed up and he wanted her back.”

“Yeah, that one was pretty bad, you’re right. But fart guy was still worse for me.”

You just shake your head.

“Wait, did you still get dinner with the… fart guy?” Koji asks, genuinely curious now.

“Yeah, I wanna know too,” Takao agrees.

“No, I didn’t. The food was tempting, but my appetite was ruined after that.” She glances down at her ramen, then back up.

“Yeah, mine is now too.” You whine.

“And I also think he didn’t necessarily want to get out of the car,” she adds, ignoring you completely.

Takao bursts out laughing. “Oh no.”

“That’s so bad,” Koji says, half-laughing, half-horrified.

You’re trying not to laugh, but your shoulders are shaking. “Mina, I can’t believe you just told that story.”

“What? You asked!” She grins, unbothered. “Besides, it’s a good story.”

“It’s a traumatizing story,” you correct.

“Same thing.”

Takao’s still laughing, wiping his eyes. “That’s definitely worse than vomit girl.”

“Right?” Mina gestures at him. “Thank you.”

Koji shakes his head, smiling now. “I don’t know. Vomit in your mouth is pretty hard to beat.”

“Okay, can we please stop talking about bodily fluids while we eat?” you beg.

“Agreed,” Takao says, still grinning.

Mina just shrugs, taking another bite of her ramen like she didn’t just ruin everyone’s appetite.

The conversation shifts after that—thankfully to safer topics. Takao asks about weekend plans. Koji mentions a movie he wants to see. Mina suggests they all go together.

Back at home you phone buzzes again. The group chat.

Takao :): this was fun! we should do this again sometime

Mina: yes!! next week?

You: im down

Kojii :P: same

—

Thank you for reading <3

Me while i was writing:

Taglist:@alliemaxie @rqchelszeglers @chxshiyax @kormoslena218 @sylviiana @azarashicutie @forgottensniper

bro i love y’all so much, i literally do this just for you (kidding i do it for me as well)

#alice in borderland season 3 #aib s3 #aib season 3 #alice in borderlad s3 #ryuji matsuyama #ryuji matsuyama aib #ryuji matsuyama alice in borderland #arminmy4ss #matsuyama ryuji #matsuyama ryuji learning curve #matsuyama ryuji x reader #aib x reader #alice in borderland x reader

Two Of Hearts — Ryōhei Arisu, Alice in Borderland

summary: you ask arisu to come with you and kuina to take emma. He's against it at first but takes a pill anyway. When he gets up to go to his room, you go with him.

Tags: drug use, high sex, no condom, technically gender neutral reader, S1/2 Arisu, SUB!arisu (like sub sub), whimpering, IDK WHAT ELSE TO PUT HERE

Word Count: 2,4k

a/n: i feel like i did my big one here ngl (also didnt proofread oops)

—

“No I’m not.” Arisu looks at you like you just suggested something insane. Which, to be fair, you kind of did.

“Please, Arisu.” You say, glancing between him and Kuina.

“No.”

“C’mon, it’s just a little Emma.” Kuina leans in, trying to convince him to come take MDMA with you and the small group hanging out in the back room.

“No. I’m not taking that, I don’t care how many times you ask.”

“You don't have to take it, silly.” You shrug. “Just come with us.”

He hesitates, and you can see him turning it over in his head. You soften a little. “The music isn’t as loud back there. It’ll still be fun, I promise—way less exhausting than this.” You gesture vaguely at the chaos of the main party.

“Okay,” he says finally.

You and Kuina exchange a quick look of victory.

The back room is all the way across the venue. 4 beat-up sofas in a square with a low table placed in the middle. It reeks of smoke and cheap perfume, but at least you can actually breathe here—not like out in the main room where the air felt thick and suffocating.

The music’s muffled through the walls. Your ears are grateful for the break.

A few people are sprawled on the sofas, talking and playing cards.

“See? Told you it’s better here.” You drop onto one of the sofas.

“Yeah.” Arisu settles in next to you. “I guess you were right.” Your knees brush slightly.

Makoto comes into the room, a bag of pills in one of his hands, in the other a gun. “Oh, we have a guest here.” He says spotting Arisu amongst the usual group.

“Yeah I brought him, he just wants to hang.” You give Makoto a look that tells him to fuck off. He gets the message, sits down opposite from you and lays some cards on the table.

Not real cards. Just paper glued together and drawn on.

“So let’s begin.” Makoto smiles and nods at the guy on the couch to his right to start handing out the cards.

“Uh, what are we playing?” Arisu whispers to your left.

“President–Asshole,” you answer bluntly, watching the guy give out the cards one by one.

“What’s President–Asshole?” That’s when you turn to him.

“You don’t know how President–Asshole works?” you ask in disbelief. He just shrugs.

You sigh. “It’s not complicated. The goal is just to get rid of all your cards before everyone else does.” He nods.

“Someone starts by putting down one card, or a pair, or whatever — as long as they’re all the same number. After that, each person has to play the same number of cards, but higher. So if someone drops two fives, the next person needs two cards higher than that. If you can’t, or you don’t want to, you pass.”

You glance at his hand to make sure he’s following. “Once everyone passes, the last person who played gets to start the next round with whatever they want. That’s basically how the game keeps moving.”

“Alright, I think I got it,” he mumbles, watching the guy place the last card down.

“Twos are special,” you add. “They beat anything and clear the pile. Use them wisely.”

You lean back a little, shrugging. “When you run out of cards, you’re done. First one out is the President, last one stuck with cards is the Asshole. Next round, the President gets a small advantage and the Asshole gets screwed — and has to give up a card of their visa.”

He swallows. “What?” His voice is tight with panic.

“Don’t worry, the Asshole only has to pay at the very end of the game. You‘d have to lose 3 rounds and I won't let that happen.”

You smile at him and bump your shoulder against his to ease his concern. “You’ll get it after like one round. Just watch what people play and try not to get stuck at the end.”

“You finished explaining the game?” Makoto asks, annoyed, tossing the bag of pills into the middle of the table.

“Yeah.”

“Then take it.” You lean forward and reach for a small pill. It’s round and pink with a heart stamped in the middle. You pop it and chug it down with a glass of water, watching the others around you do the same.

“What, the fish isn’t taking any?” Makoto asks.

“No,” Arisu stammers, avoiding eye contact with him.

“No, he doesn’t. Problem?” You chime in.

“Nah, just start playing already.” He laughs and shrugs toward the cards.

The guy to your left lays down a 3. Easy. You examine your hand and see your smallest card is a 5, which you have two of, so you play them.

Now Arisu. You watch him scanning his cards nervously.

“You need at least two sixes,” you whisper. “If you have more than one, lay all of them.”

He nods and places two sixes in front of him.

“See? It’s easy.” You clap his knee, and he flinches slightly.

Now Kuina. She scans her cards and pulls out two sevens.

“…Are the drugs kicking in yet?” Arisu asks shyly, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“No, it takes about thirty minutes to an hour.”

He nods.

“Pass,” the guy to your left says. You signal it’s your turn. You lay and Arisu lays, Kuina lays. The girl next to Kuina passes. The game continues.

After the third round, Makoto finishes laying down his last cards. “President,” he smirks. You’re used to this—him winning. He always does. He always cheats.

The game continues until everyone is out of cards except Arisu.

“Seems like we have an Asshole.” Makoto leans forward and writes down a dash on a paper in front of him. “Be the Asshole 2 more times and you’ll have to pay.”

You see Arisu stiffening from your peripheral. “Don’t worry. It was your first game.”

The cards get passed out again.

“The President begins and the Asshole has to trade his best card for the President’s worst.” You explain as Makoto holds out one of his cards to him.

Arisu takes it. It’s a 1. Shit. He searches for the best of his to give to Makoto.

The second game starts and ends like the first did. With Makoto as the President and Arisu as the Asshole.

Makoto writes down another dash under Arisu’s name.

The cards get passed out once again.

“Now because the same people are President and Asshole again, two cards have to be traded.” You declare and Arisu just sighs.

As the third game proceeds you feel it. Your heartbeat rising and falling again, the colors becoming more vibrant, your breathing getting slower and deeper.

“Pass.” You let out a deep breath of relaxation and lean back.

Arisu takes a look at you, only to see your pupils dilated like a cat’s. Arisu’s heart is also beating fast. Not because of drugs. Because of the game. He’ll lose again and he’ll have to pay. He looks at his cards and sighs.

“I’ll take a pill.”

You sit upright again.

“Woah, Arisu, are you sure?” Kuina says.

You look at him from the side, watching his face, trying to determine if he’s joking or not.

“Yes.”

Your head turns to Makoto. He lets out a huff of air and nods, his pupils blown wide as well. “Sure, take one.”

“Arisu, the first time is different.” You place a hand on his shoulder out of reflex and you could swear you see the slightest tint of pink staining his ears.

Arisu just reaches forward and takes a pill out of the bag. “I know.”

“Uhm, alright, just don’t chew it, swallow it down with water. It’s really bitter.” He nods.

You watch him place a pill, similar to yours, on his tongue and wash it down with water as he squeezes his eyes shut. Then he continues with the game and leans back, waiting for the drug to settle and for his heartbeat to lower.

You play again and this time the guy to your right loses and once again Makoto wins. In the next one you lose (on purpose because if not, Arisu would have lost).

And then you play another round and another and another.

It’s Arisu’s turn and he hesitates looking at his cards.

“If you have a two lay that, it beats anything remember?” You whisper and it was helpful, because he lays down two of hearts in front of him,. Winning the round.

“Not Bad, President.” Makoto says.

You continue to play game after game.

You notice Arisu’s behavior changing—he’s quieter now, his movements looser, eyes unfocused. The drugs must’ve kicked in. As the guy to your left loses for a third time, Arisu blinks slowly and turns to you.

“Hey,” then to the table. “I think I’m gonna go to my room.” He announces, then turns to you again. “I feel strange.” He slurs his words and shifts to the edge of the sofa.

“Wait, I’ll come with you. Don’t want you getting hurt on the way.” You catch his arm lazily.

“Good night you two.” Kuina says as you both stand up to leave the room.

You nod back at Kuina, her smirk way too obvious even through the fuzzy high.

“Night,” you mumble, steering Arisu out the door. Outside of the backroom the party is still very much alive. Loud and bright.

Your hand's still on his arm, and his skin feels hot under your fingers—too hot, or maybe that's just the Emma talking.

Arisu sways a bit as you walk.

“This feels... off,” he mutters, voice all soft and slurry. He grabs your hand without asking, fingers lacing through yours tight. Holding on ‘for balance’. Even through the high your stomach flips.

You glance over—his eyes are huge, pupils swallowing the brown, face pink and sweaty. He looks lost, but not scared. Kinda cute, actually.

“Yeah, it’s the come-up,” you say, squeezing his hand back. “Hits everyone differently the first time. You okay?”

He nods quick, swallowing. “I think. Everything’s just... intense. And you—” He stops talking, ears going redder, but he doesn’t drop your hand.

The stairs are a bit harder. There he really almost trips, but you manage anyway

His room's down the hall, one of those generic rooms—medium bed, crappy lamp, windows looking out at the pool area where the party's still raging faintly. You push the door shut behind you, and the quiet hits like a blanket. No more muffled bass, just your breathing and his.

Arisu turns to face you, standing there awkward for a second, hand still intertwined with yours.

You both go over to his bed and sit down.

“So… good night, Arisu." You smile, let go of his hand and turn your head away, ready to stand up.

“Actually, I…” he catches your wrist.

Then moves closer, real close, and grabs your hand again. His fingers dig in a little, shaky. “I’ve... wanted to do this,” he whispers, breath hot on your face. He leans in and kisses you—soft at first, lips barely pressing.

You want to savour the moment but then he lets out a quiet, needy sound that makes your stomach flip again.

You kiss back harder, and he melts. His mouth opens up, tongue clumsy but eager, and he makes another whimper when you bite his lip lightly. Hands slide up your back under your shirt, trembling like he's overwhelmed. “Please,” he breathes against your mouth, voice cracking.

The plea only makes it easier to kiss him again and let your hands wander. You scramble onto the bed, him above you, just barely holding himself up.

He's pressing into you, hips grinding a little without rhythm, like he can't help it.

“Arisu,” you say, pulling back just to look at him. His eyes are glassy, begging. Hair messy.

“Don’t stop,” he whines—actual whine, high and desperate—and tugs at your shirt. You flip positions, now him underneath you and you straddling his lap.

He arches up when you grind down, another whimper spilling out. “Ah— that feels...”

Clothes come off fast—shirts yanked, pants kicked away. His skin's flushed all over, chest heaving. You wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly, and he bucks into it with a gasp. “Wait, too—,” he whimpers, but his hips keep chasing your touch, pre-cum making it slick. Tears prick his eyes, not from pain, just the overload.

He arches again, his back lifting off the bed, while short gasps for air keep filling the room. He moves his hand to his mouth to muffle the sounds.

“No, let me hear you.” you say, gently shoving his hand away. He nods, little broken sounds every time you twist your wrist.

“Please,“ a twisted up moan“ — I need you,” he begs, voice wrecked, hands clutching your thighs.

The corners of your mouth curl up. “I thought you‘d never ask.“ You shift to slide down your bottoms.

Your body already feels light, like it takes so little to throw you over the edge. You almost feel nauseous because of the amount of stomach flips he gave you.

You shift again, spitting in your hand, stroking him one last time, lining up, and sink down slowly. He throws his head back, a long whine tearing out as you take him in. “Oh god—yes, like that,” he pants, thrusting up once, messy.

You feel him inside of you and shudder at the feeling, your stomach and chest blooming with pleasure.

You set a slow pace, riding him, and he's a mess—whimpers turning to sobs, nails digging into your skin. “Don’t stop, please—so—mh—good, I can’t— ah!” Every clench makes him shake, praises mumbling out between whines.

You clench harder, as you catch him in a kiss, picking up the pace, chasing your own edge. The feeling amplified by the drug.

You clench again and he loses it—a string of whimpers peaking into a cry as he comes, spilling hot inside you, body trembling hard.

You follow right after, collapsing on him but not pulling out. You spasm throughout the double high. When you fall down beside him, he's still processing. Breathing hard and when you put your hand on his neck you feel his pulse. Racing.

He wraps his arms around you sloppy, lips pressing wet kisses to your shoulder.

“That was... a lot,” he whispers, voice hoarse, but there's a tiny smile there.

You chuckle, nuzzling into his neck. “Told you it'd be fun.”

—

THANK YOU FOR READING

y’all I was GIGGLING while writing

TAGLIST: @squidgamemegafan067 @hemlockgirly-blog

If you liked this, you may like my other stuff too!

#arisu aib #arisu alice in borderland #arisu smut #arisu x reader #arisu x reader smut #Arisu aib two of hearts #arminmy4ss #alice in borderland #aib #arisu ryohei #aib arisu #alice in boderland x reader #gn reader

hii, could you write more arisu smut plsss??

Dw girl im cooking up smt right now

I’ll tag you

Learning Curve (ch. 9) — Matsuyama Ryuji, Alice In Borderland

Word Count: 1,5k

A/N: ayy do y’all still know who i am, also i read over this again but i didnt pay that much attention if you see something that doesnt make sense please edont be afraid to point it out! After all its been… a little while since i wrote stuff

—

You stand still for a few seconds.

In the bakery.

In your work clothes, probably with flour smeared somewhere you haven’t noticed yet.

Your chest rises and falls like you’ve just run a marathon, eyes glued to your phone.

Proud.

For about ten seconds.

Then your brain catches up.

The weight of what you’ve just done caves in all at once, heavy and sudden. Your thumb hovers over the screen as you reread the email, even though you already know it won’t change.

“Oh god,” you mutter under your breath.

What were you thinking? You sent it so impulsively, like ripping off a bandage you weren’t sure needed to come off in the first place. This isn’t something you can undo socially. This is a professor. A project. A decision.

Your stomach twists.

No. No, you can still fix this.

It’s only been—what—two minutes? He hasn’t seen it yet. He can’t have. Professors don’t check their email every second. This is fine. You’re fine.

You tap through your inbox too fast, fingers clumsy, pulse loud in your ears. There it is. Sent.

Your thumb hovers over the delete option.

You close your eyes and tap.

Relief floods your chest so quickly it almost makes you dizzy.

Then—

The screen goes black.

“What?”

You press the side button.

Nothing.

You press it again. Harder. Longer.

Still nothing.

Your stomach drops straight through the floor.

No.

No no no no no.

You try again, holding the button down until your thumb aches. The phone stays dead in your hand, heavy and useless.

“Oh god,” you whisper. “No way.”

You shake it slightly, like that could magically fix anything. It doesn’t. Your phone is completely, unmistakably dead.

Behind you, Hana pauses mid-task. “Uh… you alright?”

You look up at her, eyes wide, panic barely contained. “Do we—do we have a charger here?”

She blinks. “A charger?”

“Yes. Any kind. Please.”

Hana frowns, thinking. “I mean… I don’t think so? I usually just bring my own.”

Your heart sinks further.

“Can I borrow yours?” you ask quickly.

She hesitates, then winces apologetically. “I would, but mine’s USB-C. And I left it at home today.”

Of course.

You let out a thin, strangled laugh. “Right. Yeah. Of course you did.”

She studies you for a moment. “Is this, like… an emergency?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“You could use mine.” She suggests.

“No, I need my own.”

“Well,” she says gently, “your shift’s almost over, right?”

You glance at the clock.

Two hours.

Your chest tightens.

Two hours is more than enough time for him to see it. To read it. To reply.

There’s nothing you can do now.

You nod numbly. “Yeah. Almost.”

Hana gives you a sympathetic look and goes back to her work, humming softly like nothing monumental just happened.

You stand there for a moment longer, phone lifeless in your palm.

—

The moment you get home, you don’t even take your shoes off.

You drop your bag by the door, cross the room in three steps, and plug your phone in with shaking hands. The screen stays black for half a second longer than it should.

Then it lights up.

Your breath catches.

A notification banner slides down almost immediately.

New email — Mr. Matsuyama

Your heart stutters.

Already?

You stare at the screen, frozen, like looking might somehow change what it says. Slowly, you unlock your phone and open the email.

It’s short.

Professional. Polite.

He thanks you for your message, says he’s glad you decided to join, confirms that the position is still open. There’s a proposed date and time for an initial meeting.

And at the very end—

A smiley face.

What? A smiley face??

Your shoulders sag as a shaky breath leaves you, something between relief and fresh panic twisting in your chest.

So it’s real.

You sink onto the edge of your bed, staring at the screen until the words blur. And the smiley face won’t leave your mind.

He isn't the type to just send smiley faces like that.

—

You tell Mina the next day.

Not the exact words—just the outcome. That you sent the email. That he replied quickly. That there’s a meeting scheduled. Ut not about the smiley face. You're not sure why.

She listens without interrupting, arms crossed, her expression thoughtful rather than excited. You pace while you talk, retracing the same few steps between the table and the window, words tumbling out faster the longer you go.

“And I felt really good for like—ten seconds,” you admit. “Like, actually proud of myself. And then it just… crashed. Immediately. I kept thinking I’d worded it wrong. Or that he’d read something into it. Or that I shouldn’t have sent it at all.”

You realize you’re repeating yourself when you catch her watching you instead of listening—head tilted, mouth slightly open, waiting for you to finish the loop.

She sighs gently when you circle back to the same sentence for the fourth time.

“I think you made the right decision.”

You groan, dropping into the chair across from her. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Because it’s true,” she replies without missing a beat. “And because you can’t change it anyway, so beating yourself up over it is pointless.”

You press your lips together, nodding despite yourself. “Mm’okay.”

The knot in your stomach doesn’t loosen, but at least it stops tightening.

“You know…”

She glances at you. “Yes?”

“If you want to,” you continue carefully, “you could maybe…”

She slows down. “Could maybe… what?”

You hesitate, then shrug. “I could ask if you can also join the project.”

She stops walking entirely. “What?” Then she laughs, shaking her head. “No way. Have you seen my grades? He wouldn’t let me join.”

She squints at you. “Me when I lie.”

“Come on, your grades aren’t that bad,” you say automatically.

“Yeah,” she replies dryly, “and also not good.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, thinking. “Come on. At least let me ask him. It would really help me.”

She studies you for a moment, weighing something you don’t fully see.

Then she exhales. “Fine.”

A pause.

“But if this gets weird,” she adds, pointing at you, “I’m blaming you.”

You smile, small and relieved.

That same day, you ask him.

After the next lesson, both of you go up to the front.

It's better with her. Easier for both of you to ask and harder for him to decline.

Still, the closer you get, the more your body urges you to turn around and go back to your seat. Pretend you forgot something. Pretend this isn’t happening.

But you keep walking.

When he realizes you’re not passing by—when he sees you approaching—he stiffens slightly.

“Hello, Mr. Matsuyama,” you both greet him.

“Hello, you two,” he replies, but his eyes linger on you.

“I just wanted to—well, first, thank you for the opportunity with the project,” you begin.

“Of course,” he says easily. “I was happy you accepted.”

“And I…” You glance at Mina, who gives you a small, encouraging nod. “I wanted to ask if there was a possibility for Mina to join as well. She knows a lot about the topic already and is really dedicated.”

You lie.

He looks at her. Then back at you.

Then—“Sure. More people are always better.”

He smiles.

Both of you release a breath at the same time and return it.

“Thank you, Mr. Matsuyama,” you say together, already turning toward the exit.

Outside the hall, Mina stares at you. “I kind of can’t believe he actually let me join.”

“I know, right? I’m so glad.”

“Hey,” she laughs, elbowing your side, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m hungry,” you say quickly. “Let’s go.”

The next few days feel lighter.

With Mina there, everything feels easier. You slip back into your routines. Pick up the book that’s been collecting dust for two months. Binge a show without checking the time. Sink into a long, warm bath and stay there until the water cools.

For a while, things almost feel normal.

But the first meeting date creeps closer.

—

sooo this is kind of a nothing burger

Anyway because this took so long and i have no idea who even wants to read this anymore, i’ll wait a bit and see who from the tag list likes this and then just tag them in the next chapters the rest I’ll stop tagging

love y’all thank you so much for reading!!!!!

Taglist: @chateaaa @alliemaxie @rqchelszeglers @vintagebengal @mischiefandmultiverse @geumseongjelicker @luckyarrow @cakeforwonu @blueandwhiteowala @lucieex @kormoslena218 @eliveonsunshine @squidgamemegafan067 @sylviiana @sealykitty @sseele @forgottensniper @l5byrinth

So people just came over to visit MY home and invade MY space (my parents house) so i am not able to read over the chapter again until later. It is finished but since that happened a bit of a delay in the publishing will be happening

Bro just let me have my lil chill time 🥀

#matsuyama ryuji learning curve

i dont think we're getting a chapter 9 on ryuji's ff gng 😔

You thought wrong hehe😝

Also your timing was gonna release it in a few hours 🤞

#maxéyap

teambyler

The Stranger Things creators reveal why they never pivoted toward a romantic relationship between Mike and Will, despite intense fan specula

Wait, so we're supposed to take your word for it Duffers, that Byler was never planned and simply an "external pressure" from fans that you treated as "noise" to block out?

The way Finn took your word for it when you told him that the van scene and the Painting Lie would pay off?

Proves Mike WAS your self-insert, the way you're trying (but failing) to GASLIGHT the fandom.

Did Netflix pressure you to back down? Some of us are actually giving you CREDIT Duffers, thinking you weren't simply evil and cruel for ten whole years, and that you intended Byler but chickened out due to pressures. So now you're just their mouthpiece covering their ass?

How dare you play "Heroes" during the credits while being COWARDS yourselves.

And what you now claim actually makes you look MORE malicious, almost comically evil. Because if you knew it was never going to happen 10 years ago then why did you fail to rule it out, which even the creators of Supernatural and Sherlock had the courtesy of doing. Add to that trying to gaslight the fandom for thinking that you wouldn't queerbait them worse than those shows did.

-teambyler

arminmy4ss

Im so heartbroken bro

teambyler

Stranger Things Finale and Byler

None of us are wrong. The Duffer Brothers, Shawn Levy, Netflix are wrong. This was the most elaborate queerbait in media history. The responsibility is on them. Don't ever forget that.

All the evidence. The zoom-in on Mike when Dustin gave his speech. All suggested that Mike is not fully straight and is simply grieving over the loss of his first love.

BYLER IS REAL.

They stoked in us a hope and fire that will not burn out. The subtext was ABSOLUTELY planted and is there. They just didn't deliver. No network corporate execs have the right or the ABILITY to quell our fire to want want to be human and free.

They absolutely knew we exist and who we are when they played David Bowie's "Heroes" during the credits. They gave a nod to heroism, but weren't heroic themselves. What some corporate suits and the Duffer Brothers do does not dictate what WE do.

-teambyler

xoxochb

I want mr. whatsit’s whatsdih

guys i think i have autism

#maxéyap

s1ut4adamstanheight

no cuz genuinely 💔

love it tho

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