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#the background is transporting me
foxprints · 6 months
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Happy holidays @rj-abacura !!
It's been so nice getting to know you this year and I hope the holidays and New Year treat you kindly!
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sobredunia · 1 year
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"I found what love looked like on the bus home"
I don't usually give titles to my drawings bc it's mostly a waste of time and I usually draw shitposts but I came up with this one as I drew it and idk I really liked it it spoke to me
For context on what the fuck are those poses I was riding the bus home when I noticed that these two teens were in the weirdest positions known to mankind and it looked very trusting and intimate so I decided to draw it. With my ocs of course because blorbo from my brain will never leave please help I've been thinking about them for years
@rottenkadaver @sansxfuckyou @blacklight-system @beetroot-merchant @ashs-hellhole @h3xt0r
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some-bunniii · 2 months
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Lucifer jealous with an artist!reader
・❥ You’re invited to a prestigious art show to impress Hell’s royalty with your skills, but someone isn’t a fan of all the attention on you.
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |
x: reader is g/n, no use of y/n.
~ 10.1k words
warnings: SMUT!! Adult themes!
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Being in a relationship with the King of Hell has its perks. Such as being able to skip any line at LuLu World, or not needing to make reservations months in advance to the most high-end restaurant in Pentagram City. And, of course, being able to buy anything in the entirety of Hell in the snap of a finger, or, make it, if your man is feeling extra creative that day.
The neatest one? Being able to jump across the Seven Rings of Hell. Sinners are usually confined to the Pride Ring for the entirety of their afterlife, anyone who attempts to leave would get obliterated by the magical security system that detects ring-hoppers. You had never seen it work in person, but the stories made it sound excruciatingly painful. But, no one had ever survived getting vaporized to be able to tell of their experience, so, you weren’t sure whether that was true or not.
These thoughts were plaguing your mind as you sat comfortably in the back of a clean, white limo. Its tinted windows, gold rims, and apple hood ornament screamed ‘Hell’s royalty’ as some onlookers gave the pimped-out vehicle a double-take as it rolled through traffic.
You had tried to argue against taking the conspicuous mode of transportation, opting for the lift that was commonly used by demons to travel across the rings. You most likely wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention or suspicion, since you looked like an average, everyday demon residing in Hell.
“Hop in an elevator with Heaven knows what kind of creepy people you’ll be pushed up against? Not going to happen,” Lucifer shook his head sternly at the idea, “I’m not risking your safety just because 
You had held your tongue after that, realizing you weren’t going to win when it came to Lucifer’s protectiveness of your wellbeing. Besides, the limo looked nice as it waited patiently outside of the hotel a few hours after the big breakfast you had shared with the residents of the hotel.
The inside was nice too, the red, leather seats so plush you were practically sinking into the furniture as you sipped on an alcoholic beverage. There was a minibar nestled between some cushions across from you, bottles of expensive red wine secured on racks next to clean, empty drinking glasses. 
A large stereo sat at the back of the limo, with tall speakers that flickered with an array of colors waiting idly for your touch. A small TV hung from the car’s ceiling, and you flicked through the channels mindlessly as you held your phone to one ear.
“Just let the driver do his thing, you’ll barely feel the portal before poof! You’re in the Greed Ring.” Lucifer assured over the phone as the white limo sped towards the edge of the ring. 
“And I won’t get turned to goo or anything?” 
“Not on my watch!” He spoke confidently. You could hear faint voices in the background, which meant he must still be at the hotel. “Trust me, love, you’ll be fine. But, maybeee you wouldn’t be so nervous if you had someone with you like… the King of Hell?” 
Rolling your eyes, you snorted quietly trying to hold in a laugh. Lucifer had been bugging you all day about barring him from joining you, but you steeled yourself against his begging, some plans, and preparations needed to be done as soon as you got to Greed. Having Lucifer along would no doubt distract you, especially with the sultry gazes he’d been throwing at you quite often lately, and you needed to get your game on for tonight.
“I told you, I’ve got dinner plans with some of the other artists, and there's work to be done at the venue. Tonight is very important, I can’t mess anything up.”
“I know, I know. Don’t worry, you’ve got this in the bag, baby.”
Heat crept to your cheeks at his compliment, and you smiled out the windows of the limo, your eyes following the winding road toward a large tunnel in the distance. Was that the portal entrance? It was the only thing out here in this barren part of the ring, and it was only growing closer in view as the limo sped on.
Soon, you’d be in Greed, one more step towards the big art show tonight. Your mind drifted back to the matters at hand, your nerves intensifying as you sat deep in thought.
Tonight, was the annual art fair and exhibition, ‘Elysium in Hell’. A famous, grandeur display of well-known and talented artists coming together to sell and showcase their pieces. Their skills with the brush and oils would also be compared fiercely, judged by the leading in the practice that usually dictated how well an artist’s pieces sell during the night.
When hosting the most wealthy and powerful beings in Hell, one had to know whether someone’s creations were truly worth the large price tag. 
It had only ever been a dream, for you to even attend a gathering of such nobility. This was the kind of place you’d find the Seven Deadly Sins, like Lucifer, were strolling around places like these for fun. When to you, and other artists, it was the opportunity of a lifetime to make your passion a really good career. As in, spending the rest of your days lounging in your villa’s pool, finding your painting inspiration by looking out into the expanse of the ‘this view cost me a lot of goddamn money’ scenery. 
It was a chance to put your work out there, farther than the hotel, farther than Asmodeus’ club. Maybe, into a Goetia’s office, or a Sin’s bedroom! That was the dream, to have people appreciate and feast on your craft, while also making really good money from it.
It must have been Asmodeus who got your name on the list since he really seemed to enjoy your more explicit paintings. Lucifer also could have used his influence too, but you hoped that wasn't the case. You wanted your success to be based on your effort, not someone’s pretty words.
Would Lucifer even do that? After all, it was he who was more inclined to keep your relationship a secret. At least, secret to everyone outside of the hotel. It was hard to keep a secret from them, especially when the manager of the place was the man-you-were-courting’s daughter. 
It was something about the press down here being very brutal, and the fact you’d be in the public eye and under its scrutiny constantly. Unless, you become a shut-in hermit for the rest of your life, and while you enjoy the solitude, you don’t how long you could be stuck inside before growing depressed. Even a castle got boring after a while.
But the big problem, was you’d be a target instantly when it came to Heaven’s exterminations. You were a Sinner, and your life was at risk every time those gaping, golden portals opened to swallow the sky, and their blood-thirsty valkyries that would flood the streets with weapons made of holy light.
There was no doubt they would do whatever was necessary to destroy any kind of stability within Hell, and even direct attacks toward Lucifer and those he holds dear. Charlie? Well, she was Hellborn, safe from Heaven’s wrath unless they fancied all-out war. 
But, you? The exterminations were created to kill you, an agreement between Heaven and Hell’s King to quell the uprisings, to keep their control over all realms in Creation. Lucifer never had a reason to care about the population of Sinners inside his ring, until you arrived, with that soft smile and overflowing head of ideas.
If Heaven wanted your head, they would surely have it, if they dared to incur Lucifer’s wrath. He couldn't protect you from everything, no matter how many times he assured you. He wasn't the most powerful being in existence, there were those much greater. 
Was there more to it, though? Was it some kind of political reason because someone of the lower class could never be seen as one of the heads of the royal family, therefore the entirety of Hell as well? Would there be an uprising among the nobility, who couldn’t fathom someone without influence or power to have command over them?
So, for now, you’d spoil your king with kisses and soft words away from prying eyes. In the comfort of your room, surrounded by fond memories and heated exchanges of passion. Breakfast in bed, lounging the day away on your balcony, staring towards the city. 
Sometimes, Lucifer would enthrall you with tales from past interactions with other royalty, mainly the other Sins. He’d impersonate each, his voice almost perfectly mimicking their tones and speech patterns as he recounted stories that made you laugh so hard you almost tilted over the railing once.
Lucifer had spilled his wine trying to catch you as you leaned a little too far backward over the metal edge, his hands gripping your forearms as you adjusted for balance.
“This,” he had said with a breathless laugh as you stumbled into him, before the fallen angel wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush, “is why I can’t take my eyes off you anymore. There’s always a mortally wounding drop that you can’t seem to stay away from!”
You only giggled in response, your buzz making it impossible for you to give your lover a straight face as he tried to frown sternly at your reaction, only failing miserably when you lost balance again from the laughs that began to shake your figure. 
Lucifer began to lift you upright once more, a soft laugh escaping his lips as you only sent him a lopsided grin, leaning closer to him. It wasn't until his gaze lowered and he caught the tipped wine glass that had rolled against the leg of a chair, did the fallen angel deflated slightly.
“Look, you even made me spill my drink..” He whined, his eyes sullenly tracing the small river of red liquid that cascaded over the table���s edge.
You captured Lucifer’s lips in a sloppy kiss, your teeth grazing against his skin as you hummed an apology between trailing kisses. The King only melted into your hold as you filled him with sweet like ‘My silly duck’ and ‘The most handsome angel’. 
Your hands lifted to cup his cheeks, before breaking the kiss and sending him a loving smile. You squished his cheeks softly, and Lucifer only melted in your hand, nuzzling his cheek against your palm.
“Well, at least I’ll get some kind of buzz from the taste of your lips,” he sighed happily against your palm, flashing those pretty bedroom eyes at you as his claw slid beneath your undergarment, grazing against warm, bare flesh that caused you to shiver underneath his touch. 
Lacing your fingers with his, you sent him a sultry smile as you tugged him towards the open balcony doors, soft light basking the entrance to your room with light red hues as you crossed the threshold. 
Lucifer growled softly, his pupils dilating as he lifted a hand to begin unbuttoning his shirt, following you obediently into the darkness. The balcony doors shut behind him with invisible force, and wisps of golden light snaked out of the keyhole, before being blown away like dust. 
You smiled at the thoughts, your heart fluttering as those feelings bubbled up underneath your heated skin. This was the first time you had been away from him for a while, and it did feel much lonelier without his vibrant aurora that only filled your soul with warmth. 
Soon, you’d be back in his soothing embrace. But first, there was work and an audience to woo.
You had told him he could come later tonight after the show started, which had made him beam with happiness and promise to be there in support of you.
Would he appear as his common imp disguise? A Goetia? Would you even be able to tell it was him without those shades on his face? It seemed like you’d be playing I Spy later tonight.
“—will be there?”
You blinked, shaking your head to pull yourself back into reality. 
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I said, do you think any of these famous painters you studied all your life will be there? I mean, they couldn't have all been virtuous and sinless, right? I’m sure that one guy that cut his ear off wasn't stable enough to make it through the pearly gates.”
“Huh... I don't know, I never thought about that before.” You laughed, your eyes still on the tunnel that was now only a mile away, before Lucifer could start on another subject, you quickly broke the silence, “I’m about to go through the portal, I think. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later tonight.” 
“Oh, okay! Listen, don’t worry, it’ll feel like passing through any normal earthly tunnel… probably. I can't wait to see you, and hopefully, in that delicious outfit you bought earlier,” he teased.
“If the King commands it of me,” you replied with a honeyed tone, your words “but, he’ll have to be patient, can the mighty Lucifer Morningstar resist such taking a bite from the apple?”
“No matter how tempting, I’ll just wait until I can ravish it in its entirety later,” the soft growl in his voice made your breath hitch slightly, your cheeks heating at the thought of what ‘later’ would entail.
“We’ll see,” you whispered, before pulling the phone from your ear and ending the call. You felt giddy in your seat, that heat slowly ebbing from your skin as the tunnel loomed ahead. You grabbed the wine rack next to you for support as large shadows swept across the limo’s interior as it disappeared into the darkened path.
Lucifer was right, it had honestly felt just like you had driven through a regular old tunnel, if not for the tingling at the back of your neck and the feeling of weightlessness for only a moment as the limo’s tires hit solid ground once more.
Then, green skies cast emerald hues along the seats as you peeked out the window, excitement bubbling in you. You were in another ring for crying out loud! This was a first, and other than pictures, you had no idea what 
It wasn’t until your eyes adjusted to the change in hues, did the anticipation died immediately and a frown graced your features.
Greed looked… kind of ugly. Thick, green smog powered from large towards that dotted across the barren expanse. Large industrial buildings nestled between them, most likely some kind of plant or factory.
Rivers of sludge flowed from each facility into a large, concrete-lined lake. There was no doubt it smelled rancid out there, and your nose crinkled at the thought.
The large city that the limo was heading to was the least soaring to the eyes, its towering corporate buildings filled the sky. Flashing multicolored lights emanated from the middle of the sea of buildings, most likely party central of the capital.
As the vehicle rolled down the street, stopping at the streetlight, you were aware of the eyes that were trying to get a glimpse through the tinted windows. Some demons even pulled out their phones, snapping a quick picture of the pristine, white paint that shimmered underneath the street lamps. 
They probably thought it was someone important, like Lucifer, maybe even Charlie. Thankfully, discrete locations where you’d be dropped off and picked up had already been decided. Hopefully, you won’t have any run-ins with the paparazzi or anything crazy. 
You checked the time on the TV, you were just in time for check-in at the hotel you were booked at. It had been provided by the organization behind the large event, and you weren’t sure what to expect. 
As the limo pulled alongside a back street, you spotted an elevator a few feet from the curb. Taking another sip of your drink, you gathered your things and opened the large passenger door.
Stepping over the gap, you hoisted everything onto the sidewalk, fiddling with a few loose items before turning towards the long vehicle, shutting the passenger door, and leaning over to the driver’s side window.
“Thank you, Jeremy.” You called to the driver, a short imp with a bushy, white mustache. He only nodded at you through the shaded glass, before the limo began to pull away from the curb.
You turned towards the elevator doors, before taking a deep breath and stepping forward
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After a few hours lounging around in your hotel room, the rest of your day was filled with preparations. 
You spent the early hours at a very fancy restaurant, surrounded by other artists. They all looked Hellborn, although you were sure you couldn’t have been the only one who got granted access from Pride. 
They all seemed relatively cheerful, sharing stories and techniques of their careers. You even shared some of your art with a couple of nice women that you were seated next to, the one that hung up at Ozzie’s. 
“I saw those the other day! That was you? You are such a great artist!” One gushed, while the other two nodded their head in silent agreement.
“That’s really kind of you, but, I’m not that good,” you brushed off her compliment, hoping to change the subject to someone other than you. You refrained from telling them where you worked, or anything about you, really. They may be kind to you, but in Hell, that didn't mean their motives were pure.
The tension in the air was a little thicker than you would have preferred to, but some of your “competitors” came from nothing, and would go home to nothing, if they weren’t able to make a large enough income after tonight.
Arriving not too long after at the large building that would host the show only heightened your anxiety, as your eyes bounced from booth to booth that was being set up with paintings, pottery, and other mediums.
The interior looked like a giant convention center, the walls a blank white with gold trim, a perfect backdrop for the splash of color that was beginning to take shape across the multiple displays.
The booths looked like large cubicles, with tall partition walls separating each artist’s collection. Only the front, which one would be able to walk into the little square to observe the different pieces, was wallless. As you moved to your spot, you turned your head to catch a glimpse at the surrounding work.
Every piece that caught your gaze looked so amazing, and that only made doubt creep farther into your mind at how good you fared against some of these big names. 
Most of the work was reminiscent of what you had done previously, back when you worked for Alexandre at his studio. Scenes of steamy interactions between two—sometimes up to five—lovers, angel exterminators with their chests gouged out, and landscapes of different locations across Hell.
You had expected it, and all of the pieces that you had brought with were from before your time at the hotel, or were painted with such thoughts in mind. The demons that had wallets to empty weren’t looking for cute scenes of bunnies and fawns, or angels in a good light, for that matter. 
You worked tirelessly, placing your canvases against the walls, creating price tags, and trying to finish everything before the event officially started. You were making good time, and your worry was pushed to the back of your mind as you kept busy.
Which made you lift your head from your work, your eyes scanning the small crowd of workers and artists that bustled about. Some ran across the large, white marble floor as they shouted commands to the helpers. 
Was he one of the imps who was helping set up the booths? You had no idea what he looked like in his disguise since he had altered it so only you could see through the lie. There was no familiar yellow gaze or rosy cheek spots that you could pick up from the mass.
He was either not here or was hiding from you. Your gaze flicked up the large clock, one more hour. You turned back to the task at hand, heart racing, and mind wandering as your hands lowered to another small canvas.
“Alright, people! We’re opening the doors, let's get this party started!” A voice rose above the chatter, signaling the beginning of the event. You lifted your head, it was starting already? Time really flew by. 
Demons rushed past your display, running to their own assigned section with renewed vigor as loud footsteps echoed from the front of the building. Looking down, you tidied your outfit, the one Lucifer had mentioned earlier.
You had bought it weeks ago, but only revealed it to him right before you left. In your eyes, it wasn’t much different than what you normally do, except that it was much more formal and eye-catching. And, red. Apple red.
You definitely didn't expect Lucifer to react when his pupils turned to slits when you gave him a peak, or how he subtly wet his lips from beside you, his gaze traveling up your figure as he seemed to be picturing you in it.
Patrons began to fill the floor, the large growing louder as demons filed in, their eyes glinting with interest and excitement. Bird heads poked out from the crowd, the Goetia’s tall frames towering above most of the other attendees. They were definitely dressed like nobility, in dazzling robes that brushed against the tile as they moved with grace from booth to booth. 
Their talons clicked rhythmically against the tile as they glided past your figure, their eyes landing on the portraits behind you were curious as some stopped before you.
Apart from the Seven Deadly Sins, they were directly beneath the Morningstar family, and were Lucifer’s most loyal followers. Did they miss their King’s presence in his absence? You figured most of them had yet to run into the fallen angel, even with his face slowly appearing across the realm. 
Smiling widely, you greeted a few of them, stepping aside so they could take a closer look at your pieces. They slid past you, and your eyes landed back onto the crowd, scanning for anyone who resembled Lucifer, to no avail. Where was he?
“I like this one,” one of the Goetia spoke softly to her lover, pointing at an oil canvas depicting your idea of the River of Styx, the famous trail of water from Greek mythology that flowed into the underworld.
A little girl sat at the edge of the dark water as it flowed past, as if she was looking into the depths with longing. Her hand was outstretched, reaching towards the writing forms of grey, ghostly bodies that peeked from below the water’s surface. They held their arms out to her, begging for help, or perhaps for her to join them. 
The girl was looking at a specific being underneath the surface, a mirrored image of her small figure, their face contorted in agony as it met her gaze. Tears pooled from the little girl's eyes as she stared at herself, one hand to her mouth in grief as she reached tenderly towards the sicky grey image that represented her inevitable fate.
The two birds stared at the price tag beneath the canvas, before their eyes met and the shorter male Goetia turned to you with a stack of cash in his hand. You practically bounced on your toes with happiness as you took the money with a bow of your head.
“Thank you! Please return later and someone will help you carry it out!” You waved farewell as they left, their gaze already locked onto some pottery sitting on display a few displays away. 
This continued few another hour, a repetition of demons moving in and out of your booth to fawn over your different pieces. Some would occasionally pull out their wallet to purchase from you,  while they complimented your craftmanship.
Even with everything going on around you, and answering any questions that were thrown your way, your eyes still kept gravitating to the bustling crowd. Your mind still sifting through every figure looking for any resemblance to Lucifer. He would have revealed himself to you by now, wouldn’t he?
He didn’t forget or anything… right?
After waving goodbye to another customer, you turned to see a red-headed demon sneaking past some patrons, before she reached your booth entrance, knocking softly on the thin walls. You turned, raising an eyebrow as she timidly stared up at you.
“Hi! I’m Anna… from the restaurant earlier. Do you remember me?”
You recognized her after a moment, and a smile bloomed on your lips. She was a quiet girl, her figure resembled that of a porcelain doll, her features painted onto the smooth surface that mimicked her skin. 
Anna had sat diagonal from your chair at the restaurant, barely making a peep, but her eyes had followed your conversation with interest. You hadn't tried to speak to her, afraid she’d crack from the attention. She seemed fine around the large crowd now, though.
“Yes, that’s right. Hello, how can I help you?”
“I was just wondering if you had any extra ‘Thank You’ stickers that I could have? I’m going running pretty low.” 
“Selling out quick, huh?”
“Ha-ha, sort of. My ceramics are pretty cheap though, definitely not close in value to something like your work.”
Heat crept onto your cheeks, and you smiled bashfully. Your skills were surely not that advanced to receive all this praise, it wasn't like you were some kind of prodigy back on Earth to deserve such kind words.
“Please, I’m sure your skills are equally matched. And, of course, let me go grab some for you!”
Turning, you reached into a box nestled against the wall a few feet away from you. You pulled out a small plastic bag full of smiley face stickers, before turning to face the young girl once more.
“Here, this should be enough, but if you need more you can always come back–”
Your sentence was interrupted when gasps erupted across the attendees, their eyes beelining to the front of the building. Even other artists and servants were getting a peek at the commotion as a crowd gathered at the main entrance.
Anna leaned outside of your display, her eyes squinted trying to get a look at what was going on. You stood next to her, straining your ears to catch any words from the whispers emanating from the onlookers.
‘Someone’s here.’
‘Could it be…?’
“Oh my Satan… it’s—!’
“Your Majesty!” A voice boomed above the crowd from a tall demon in a blue tuxedo squeezing through the guests, his little management pin sparkling gold as he moved to greet the newest arrival.
You tensed immediately, frozen in place, mouth agape, while Anna only became giddy beside you.
“Did you hear him?! I think the King is here!” She bounced excitedly beside you. 
“The King..?” You whispered in disbelief. 
“Y’know, Lucifer Morningstar? You’ve seen his royal portrait, haven’t you?”
‘Oh, I've seen much more than that,’ you wanted to reply.
Anna quickly scampered off, intent on getting a closer look at the grandiose figure as she moved through the murmuring nobles.
You could see his hat bobbing behind the much taller figures as he moved with grace, the hint of his white overcoat, and the red glint from the apple on top of his cane.
“Yep, it’s me! Your devilishly handsome King, come take a closer look if you don't believe me—woah there, not that close! Personal space still exists, thanks.” 
You watched the top of his white hat move amongst the bodies of gawking demons, as they parted to let him stroll through.
It wasn’t until he came into view, with that all-too-familiar charming smirk that made your knees wobble. With those soft curls that framed his face that shimmered like the sun, making your heart flutter.
His yellow gaze scanned the crowd, but he wasn’t able to take a very long look before the blue-suited demon approached closer, bowing low before he cleared his throat.
“It is truly an honor to be in your presence once again, Your Majesty.”
“Of course it is,” Lucifer replied nonchalantly, straightening his posture.
“We didn’t expect to see you here tonight! It’s been a long time since our gracious ruler has been to our event… but nobody had any problem with that!” The demon quickly interjected, laughing nervously as he pulled on his collar. 
“Yes, well, I've been very busy these past few years. Doing… important things, of course!” Lucifer nodded quickly, chuckling lightly as he spoke loudly, “So, I thought I’d drop by and take a look around!”
“What a wonderful idea!” The event coordinator clasped his hands together, before beckoning the fallen angel to walk along, “If you’ll please follow me, Your Highness, I can take you through everything we have to offer.”
Lucifer followed behind the man, all eyes on the floor tracking his every movement. Most lowered their heads in respect as he passed, the Goetia’s in attendance much more enthusiastic about it.
Quickly, you backpedal into your booth, your head whipping across the walls for any imperfections in your setup as your mind raced.
What was he doing here, as himself?! Why didn’t he tell you before, and what was his plan?
When Lucifer arrived at the first artist down the long line of make-shift walls, you could barely hear their conversations now that they’d stopped yelling so loudly
The artists bowed, their hands rubbing together in a soothing motion as they greeted their King. You heard the three chatterings lightly, as sweat beaded down your forehead in anticipation for him to get to you. Your booth was about five little cubicles down, he’d be at your ‘doorstep’ in no time.
Lucifer listened with only mild interest as each artist walked him through their different pieces. His gaze kept shooting away, looking for you, no doubt since you were busy hyping yourself in the corner. 
Assuming he didn’t walk up to you and go ‘Hi babe!’ he would most likely treat you like everyone else here, and you’d have to do your best to keep suspicion low. That was hard, when his close proximity always sent goosebumps rippling across your skin, or your demeanor to change instantly.
He just had that energy that warmed you to the core, and you always ended up stupid and giggly by the end of the night in his presence. Hopefully, the anxiety of being surrounded by so many people would keep you cool.
It wasn’t until you could hear him in the display right next to you, did you shuffled to the front, hands clasped in front of you with a wide, professional smile. The patrons buzzed around you, most of them still eyeing the King with interest and awe, but some began slowly dispersing as they continued their tour around the building. 
“And here, is one of our newest participants in the event. I believe they specialize in paintings of multiple forms, I’m sure you will enjoy their work, Your Majesty.”
You locked eyes with Lucifer just as he rounded the little corner to your booth, that charming smile only curving upward an inch as his gaze softened at the sight of you. 
He stood beside the event coordinator who turned to you expectantly, his eyebrows raised as he waited for.. something.
You stared at him for a moment, before your posture straightened with a grimace and you leaned forward in a bow. This time, you made sure to keep your hand tucked beside you when doing so.
Shit, this was supposed to be you meeting the King of Hell for the first time! Your relaxed posture probably looked pretty insolent to the coordinator, thankfully, Lucifer paid no mind to any misstep ettique.
“Your Majesty, it’s an honor to be graced in your presence,” you spoke sweetly, smile widening more awkwardly now.
“It sure is, my dear subject,” Lucifer modded in agreement, a smirk playing on his lips as his gaze rose from you to the walls behind your figure.
“Golly, is this your art?” He gasped, placing a hand on his heart as his eyes drank in the pieces hanging around you.
“Yes…” you replied slowly, quirking a brow at his dramatics.
“Boy, let me tell you, these paintings are absolutely exquisite!” Lucifer gave a chef’s kiss, a loud smacking noise as his lips left his fingers.
His eyes flicked to the small crowd that was still congregating around your display, as they listened to his words intently. The fallen angel met your gaze once more, and gave you a sly wink, your eyes widened at his gesture.
‘Don’t you dare..’ You growled through a glare right as you saw that mischievous glint sparkle in his eye, he only stared back at you defiantly, before that devilish smirk curved even higher.
“Are you sure you aren’t Leonardo Da’Vinci; one of the greatest, most famous artists from the Renaissance?” Lucifer continued, twisting his head a tiny bit to subtly address the staring demons behind him. 
The figures around you leaned in slightly, their eyes darting across your work with renewed interest as they listened to their King praise you with such grand words. Even the event coordinator lifted his head to get a better look at a painting, his gaze fixed intently as he practically breathed in the scene on the canvas.
“That is very generous of you, I’m sure you’ve seen much better in all of your years attending something like this.”
“Nope!” He replied confidently, and a few demons that were milling about stopped to get a look at your booth.
“Well, it seems like His Majesty is quite pleased with the display! Shall we see what the others have to offer as well?” The coordinator piped up, clapping his hands softly as he took control of the scene once more.
Lucifer turned with a large, exaggerated toothy grin on his face as he stared at the man with fake interest. He definitely didn't want to leave, but with so many eyes on him, expecting him to play the role he had so meticulously designed all his years in Hell, he could only begrudgingly oblige to follow the man out of your booth.
He turned his head slightly, shooting you an unreadable look as you watched him move on to the next booth.
It wasn't until you turned your attention away from Lucifer, did you caught a figure walking towards you, the man’s eyes trained on you as moved. He was about your height, muscles showing through the tight, green dress shirt that clung to his thick frame. 
He had blonde hair, but not as bright as Lucifer's, more of a dirty blonde with hints of a red undertone. He resembled a man enough, other than a few animalistic features like the sharp fangs, pointed ears, and the black goat horns sticking out of his forehead.
“Oh, hello!” You greeted, smiling at the new demon who strolled up to you, “Interested in purchasing something?”
“Actually, I’m one of the people that’s doing the judgments tonight, the name is Ezekial.” The man smiled confidently, lifting a hand towards you to shake. 
You shook it, your smile faltering on how sweaty this guy's palm was. When you tried to release your hand from his grip, he let his fingers linger against your skin before pulling away.
“Listen, I personally think your art is fantastic. Such care towards your work, honestly, elicits such emotions, like that one-–” 
Ezekiel pointed behind you, to another small painting of two people in a deep kiss, their lust obvious as the man practically ate at the woman’s face. You turned back to him with a quirked brow as he sidled closer, and you could see a small balding spot on his scalp as he lowered his head.
“—it really fills the room with the same kind of emotions, I’m sure even you feel that… passion looking at it right now, don’t you?”
Was he shooting your bedroom eyes right now? What a weirdo. It’s not like you could do anything about it, he was going to decide your fate tonight, and that meant keeping friendliness with the demon.
“You’re too kind,” you responded with a pleasant smile, taking a step backward, “but you’re one of the people judging tonight's event, I’m sure my work is incomparable when it comes to your own.”
“Well, now that you mention it…” Ezekiel puffed his chest slightly, sidling closer to you once more, as he began to fill you in on practically his entire life story. A tight smile crept onto your lips, and you fought not to roll your eyes.
For some reason, he also enlightened you on the multitude of women he had picked up during his career, including the two failed marriages. Did he think that was supposed to entice you to sleep with him or something?
As he droned on, your eyes peaked past his shoulder, and through the demons behind you, you caught sight of a familiar, porcelain figure staring intensely at you.
You almost burst out laughing at the deep frown on his features, as he watched Ezekial only get closer to you as he continued his conversation. His pupils were dilated, honed in on the judge’s back as if he was intent on smiting him right then and there.
The event coordinator was busy blabbing in his ear, other demons around him also trying to get his attention, but his attention was solely on you. 
Lucifer was jealous, no doubt. For some reason, that made you kinda giddy inside. The memory of what happened last time he got jealous played in your mind, the time you were thrust into a musical number before it ended in a hot make-out session.
You’ve been needy all day since speaking to him earlier in the morning, and that memory made you ache even more to feel his claws grazing up your thighs, his lips trailing down your stomach and–
Ezekiel only seemed to perk at your hot-and-bothered expression that seemed to seep through your placid smile, and his tone only deepened as he spoke to you. His arm above you, against the wall as he tried leaning seductively.
You felt the heat that was slowly building cool instantly at his demeanor. Did this guy realize he was standing around some of the most influential figures in high society? He didn’t think he was the top shit just because he was a judge, right?
When your gaze flicked back to Lucifer, his mouth was agape, eyes wide in horror as he watched the demon lean in towards you. Then, his face screwed up into a deadly frown, his hints of red peeking from his iris.
You quickly backpedaled away from Ezekial, turning abruptly right as another patron walked into your display, smiling widely in greeting. Ezekial only frowned at your sudden exit, before he was called away by another figure, irritation on his features.
You averted Lucifer’s gaze for a while, preoccupied with the larger number of demons coming up to speak to you about your paintings, their interest peaked ever since Lucifer’s little display of awe. You also noticed that your little cash pouch was continuing to bulge in size much faster than normal.
It wasn’t until your bladder began to knock on your insides did you realized how long you’d been standing there speaking with people. Your social battery was about to empty, your mouth was dry, and you really had to pee.
Excusing yourself, you crossed the floor, beelining for the short hall nestled in the back of the building. The restrooms were located there, and it was hidden from view and only accessible from two small entryways on either side. As you entered the darkened corridor, you breathed a sigh of relief, the harsh lights and the noisy atmosphere were finally drowned out by the thick wall
As you finished up in the bathroom, you splashed your face with cold water to drain some of the exhaustion from your features. You were definitely going to sleep good tonight.
Right as you exited the restroom and began moving down the hall, a tall, curvy woman brushed past you, you only were able to blink before she suddenly turned to face you with interest. She had a short, blue dress that showed all the cleavage. She sent you a sultry smirk as she looked up and down your figure.
“Hey, I know you, you’re that Leonardo Da’Vinci artist, right?
“Yes, I am,” you smiled respectively, holding in a sigh.
“Well, let me just say, I think you’re work is fucking stunning, babes,” she replied with a velvet tone, the top of her thighs beginning to peak slightly from her dress as she adjusted her posture, “and, the art definitely matches the artist.”
“Thanks,” you replied sheepishly, averting your gaze from her exposed skin. 
“If you ever want to recreate some of your.. erotic pieces, just give me a call, I’ll be around all night,” she purred with a wink.
“Hey, babe! You comin’ or what?” You heard a masculine voice growl from the hall’s entryway, the light illuminating from the building's overhead lights casting a thick shadow from his large figure.
“I’m coming!” The woman huffed, and she turned to you with a giggle, “I’ll see you around, cupcake.”
Your mouth was slightly agape as you watched her saunter off, your brain short-circuiting at everything that had been happening.
Groaning, you rubbed a hand roughly down your face as the rhythmic clicking of the woman’s heels faded away. How much more crazy could tonight get?
“What are you doing over here?”
You jumped at the voice, pivoting sharply to face the figure basked in shadows. It was the yellow eyes that gave Lucifer away, as he stalked forward with an unreadable expression.
Did he listen to everything? You tense for a moment, before furrowing your brows. What did it matter? It wasn’t you making any advances.
“No, what are you doing here?” You pointed an accusatory finger at him, and he frowned at your gesture, “Here I was thinking you’d be in some kind of disguise, hiding amongst the servants or something, but then you just show up and just start running things? What happened to ‘I can’t handle big crowds’?”
“This is totally different,” he shook his head, waving his hand in a brushing motion as he leaned against his cane, “These are my most loyal subjects, who used to see me all the time when I was much more involved. Not to mention, they have class and a decent amount of manners. What I don’t like is being surrounded by depraved animals that spend their nights coked up and catching all sorts of diseases tangling with random strangers.”
He shivered at the thought, sticking his tongue out in disgust at the thought and you only sighed in defeat. Your man had a point.
“Fine, but I told you I didn’t want you to influence anything that happened tonight. That is kind of hard when you’re hyping my work up like I’m Leonardo re-incarnated.”
“Hey, those were all genuine reactions! And, I did pretend to have no connection to you. But, that was a bad idea, apparently, with all the looks you were getting right in front of my fucking face.” Lucifer growled, his fingers clenching the apple on his cane tighter as his cold gaze flicked to the corner where that woman had disappeared.
“I was not getting any looks,” you crossed your arms, huffing in disbelief. He was acting as if the whole building was ogling you, when they were clearly ogling him. 
“You were! Some of those men were practically drooling all over you, not to mention how they kept scooting closer to you. I saw it all!” Lucifer averted his gaze, staring daggers at the wall. 
He wasn’t mad at you, but he definitely wanted to throttle someone. More specifically, every man whose gaze ate up your figure hungrily while you spoke to patrons. 
Thankfully, in the darkened corner of the building,  the two of you were hidden from prying eyes for just a moment, where he could have you all to himself even for a few minutes.
“Please, you’re just exaggerating, what makes me good to look at?” 
“Your outfit!” He replied quickly, his eyes tracing your figure hungrily as he explained with delight, “God, it really brings out your curves, especially with the way it hugs your waist. It makes your eyes pop too, and I just can't stop getting engrossed in them.”
He bit his lip, the sharp point of his teeth sticking out as he seemed to muster all his strength to keep from saying anything more. As if his words would only fuel the fire that was burning inside both of you right now.
“I look that good right now?” 
“If I could have you right here, I would,” he breathed, his eyes hungry with need as he stared at you longingly.
Your skin practically sizzled with heat, and your legs felt gooey as his words filled your stomach with butterflies. This man was just good with his words, always surprising with you how his lowered voice twisted your insides and made you think all kinds of nasty thoughts.
Not to mention, you've been waiting to have him all to yourself the entire day! Was it so bad if it was only a few feet away from a large room full of nobility from across all seven rings?
Your gaze darted to an open door behind him, could that be a private room? That thought made your heart flutter, and the need to press your lips against Lucifer’s even more uncontrollable.
“Okay, then do it,” those commanding words left your lips before your brain could process the words.
“W-what? You mean right now, seriously?” The king sputtered in disbelief, you had always been vocal about privatizing your sex life, but tonight, you were feeling a little… bold.
“Don’t be a pussy.” You spoke with a honeyed tone as you batted your eyelashes, swinging your hips as you brushed past him, your arm grazing his shoulder tenderly.
That tingle of energy made goosebumps erupt against your skin, and you felt Lucifer tense, his breath hitching as you moved by toward the doorway. He cleared his throat just as you crossed the dark threshold into what seemed like a storage closet. Boxes and other items were stacked against the wall, and a desk holding nothing but dust sat on the other side of the small room.
Lucifer exhaled a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding in, as he followed you into the dark, dusty room. Once he stepped inside, he set his cane by the door frame and his overcoat hit the floor, before he pushed the door close behind him, locking it just in case anyone were to enter in the middle of your session. 
You brushed the accumulated dust that was on the desk, not wanting to dirty your outfit so that you’d still have to show-off in afterward. 
Once cleaned, you sit yourself on the surface while keeping your gaze fixated on the fallen angel. You watched every one of his movements, your hand supporting the weight of your body leaning back on the desk. Lucifer could practically feel his heart about to jump out of his skin as he approached your awaiting figure, his lean arms snaking around your waist before placed his lips on yours in a hungry kiss.
You fold your arms around his neck to pull him closer, fingers interlocked with his soft, blonde hair that you adore. You caught a whiff of his usual shampoo, that crisp apple aroma making your head spin and heat bloom in your stomach. 
You deepened the kiss, hungry for more of him despite already being so intimate. His teeth grazed against your lips, a light tug on your soft skin as a plea for you to allow space for his tongue to enter.
Your lips parted with a soft mewl rolling off your tongue, a familiar wet muscle instantly pushed past your lips and into your mouth. Lucifer’s tongue collided with your own, drawing a groan from him as he pressed his hips against yours. 
His erect is so obvious from a mere brush of your hips, that it almost made you giggle against his lips. He groaned from the light friction, hips involuntarily rocking against yours to get more of it. You whined into the kiss, moving your legs to wrap around his waist, pressing him closer exactly where you want him to be. You felt his hand creep under your shirt, his fingers caressing your flushed skin under the fabric. His touch is gentle yet possessive, almost feeling like he’s marking you from his touch alone.
“So pretty,” He mumbled against your jaw after pulling away from your moist lips. His breath hot against your skin, he pressed a trail of kisses from your jaw down to your neck. Lucifer drew his tongue out and attacked the sensitive spot on your neck; that one spot that always makes your body shudder. 
He hummed against your damp skin, his teeth brutally abusing the spot by sinking deep into your skin. You moaned suddenly, fingers tugging on his hair which made his scalp burn. His hand that remained under your shirt traveled down to the waistband of your pants, cold fingers slipping through them in a teasing demeanor.
“You look so pretty in this outfit. Gonna keep ‘em on for me, hm?” His voice vibrated through your body and reached your core, clicking something inside of you. You nod eagerly, whispering a small ‘yes’ in response to his words. 
You heard a muffled praise from Lucifer before feeling him pull your pants down, pushing them until they hang on only one side of your leg. Your forehead rests on his shoulder, gaze fixated on where his hand hurriedly unbuckled his pants. Judging from how he fumbled at the zip, you can tell he has been waiting for this all day impatiently.
A whine spilled from your lips as he pressed the tip of his length at your entrance, circling it at the area to spread his pre-cum just in case he might hurt you. He’s sensitive; just from pushing the tip in, he has already let out a loud groan while leaning his forehead against your shoulder. Your breath hitched at the stretch, body twitching occasionally as he carried on pushing the rest in inch by delicious inch. 
Lucifer’s eyes screwed shut, enjoying every second of your warmth engulfing his erect that is now nicely nestled deep inside of you. Your nails clawed into him through his loose shirt, legs trembling while doing your best to adjust to his size. His tip is already pressed against that weak spot hidden inside of you, the sensation tightened the coil that formed in your stomach.
“G-gonna move, ‘kay? Tell if if you wanna stop.” He stumbled over his own words because of how good you felt, now moving his hips to thrust into you at a slow pace. You feel your walls burn, the pain bringing a sense of pleasure that coursed through your veins. Moans start spilling from your lips, your head growing into a blur as he gradually increases the pace of his thrusts.
He pushed you further onto the desk, allowing easier access to the sweet spot in you with his ferocious thrusts. His sharp teeth bite down on the flesh of your neck, lips attached to your skin as he sucked on the area continuously until dark spots bloomed. He repeated his actions, hickeys bloomed all over your exposed skin like flowers during the blooming season.
The fallen angel shows absolutely no mercy with his thrusts, fully projecting his jealousy into them instead of holding back. He rammed into you over and over again, the sound of your skin slapping echoing throughout the small room. 
“Mine, mineminemine. All mine, yeah? Nobody can fuck you this way except me.” He growled while holding you close, drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him every time he hit the spot.
“Fuck, doing so good just for me. You like it? Being fucked into a moaning mess?” 
All you could do was moan, nothing else. Words can hardly be formed in your mind let alone a proper sentence; your vision begins to turn white as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
His grin grew at the sight of your drool rolling down from the corner of your lips, feeling a sense of pride bubbling in his chest. You’re in this state because of him, everything you’re feeling currently is all thanks to him. He twitched at the thought alone, a string of curses fell from his lips as his grip on you tightened. 
He mumbled something along the lines of ‘im close,’ or ‘gonna cum,’ into your shirt before lifting his head, crashing his lips onto yours once more in a hungry kiss. The kiss is sloppy; his tongue is unable to properly move with yours and the same goes for yours. He drinks up every one of your moans from the kiss, groaning from your sweet taste that he could never get enough of.
It only took a few of his hard thrusts until you clenched tightly around him with a sharp inhale of air, body trembled violently as you came undone. Lucifer quickly caught on with you, the tightness around him pushed him off the edge, hot strings of thick seed filling you up from the insides. 
He reduced his pace significantly, now rolling his hips lazily to ride out both of your orgasms. It took a full minute before he slowly pulled out of you, watching the white liquid oozing out of you in the surrounding darkness. You both lean against each other, chest heaving heavily as the both of you try to catch your breath. 
“Fuck,” you finally breathed, your face burying into his shoulder as the bliss subsided. How could a man make you come so undone in such a short amount of time? 
Lucifer placed a hot, wet kiss against your temple as the two of you slowly straightened. Your bare ass was still on the wooden desk’s surface, its cool touch welcoming to the heat still bubbling inside of you. 
Your thighs still ached as Lucifer adjusted the collar of his shirt, before he took a few steps towards an open box, piles of fabric nestled inside. Reaching in, he cleaned any stray dust from the small clothes surface, before handing it tenderly to you.
With an appreciative smile, you took it just as Lucifer walked over to grab his coat and cane. You cleaned yourself up as he straightened his bow tie, fixing his coat upon his shoulders. Before he turned to face your half-naked body as you began to change to look a bit more presentable.
“Are you sure you’re not an angel? ‘Cause those curves are otherworldly, baby,” Lucifer spoke softly as he strolled up to you. His drunken, half-lidded smile was evident on his face as his gaze traveled up your figure once more.
“Don’t you hear the stories?” You replied, honey dripping from your voice as your fingers reached his soft hair, grazing against his scalp as you pulled the strands back into his usual style, “How Lucifer was the most beautiful angel God ever made? How could I ever be similar to someone like you?”
“While I cannot argue with such a statement,” Lucifer laughed, staring adoringly at you as you fussed over his outfit, “If it were you in those paintings, instead of me, Michaelangelo would have been drooling.”
You smiled bashfully, pulling him closer for another deep kiss as you gripped his long collar. You could feel Lucifer’s smile against your skin as he peppered sloppy kisses down to your jaw, and goosebumps erupted across your skin.
Your hand clasped around his moving lips just as he was about to reach the crook of your neck, your mouth clamped shut to force down the moan in your throat as that heat in your abdomen returned slowly. 
“Please?” He whimpered against your palm.
“Later,” you replied sternly, before peeling yourself off of the fallen angel. Your arm brushed against his as you maneuvered to walk behind him. Your hand connected with his ass, and you felt him straighten before shooting you a playful glare.
“How do I look?” You asked, one hand on the room’s doorknob and the other gesturing to your figure
“Do you even need to ask? Perfect, as always.” Lucifer cooed, strolling up to you just as the door cracked open and you peeked your head.
The hallway was dark and empty, and with another quick scan, you slipped quietly into the corridor, Lucifer on your heels. 
“Well, I guess we should split up to not draw any suspicion. I’m sure everyone is wondering where you went.”
“They can wait,” Lucifer brushed your comment off, “You’re more important than these feet-kissers.”
You playfully hit him in the arm in scolding, and he grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the faint light as you began to walk towards the large doorway at one end of the long hall.
“I’ll see you later, mon amour!” He called after you, before you heard the sizzle of his magic as he no doubt teleported away back into the crowd. 
You sighed happily, adjusting your outfit once more as you crossed the threshold. The glaring lights cause you to squint your eyes as the volume in the room picks up, voices piling over one another until they become an inaudible mess in your head.
You only took a few steps before the dollish face of Anna appeared, a large smile on her face as she beelined for you. She was waving her arms excitedly in the air, trying to get your attention as she cut through the moving silhouettes.
She was moving so fast you thought she was going to ram into you, and you froze, tensing as she reached your figure. Her delicate hands curled around your forearms, shaking you slightly as she bounced in place. You stared wide-eyed at her eagerness.
“I’ve been looking for you, for like ever!” She finally squeaked, her smile only widening as she met your gaze.
“Why?” 
“Didn’t you hear?! You won!!” 
Your heart stopped, your breath hitching, as her words processed in your mind. You what? 
The loud voices were drowned out, replaced by your jumbled thoughts. Won what? The award for ‘Best in Show’, that little prestigious trophy that had sat patiently at the judge's table all night? That was impossible! There were so many better artists here, surely someone else deserved the spot! 
Yet, the way giddiness began to bubble up inside you, and your lips cracked into a wide, stupid grin at Anna’s words only made you a teensy bit thrilled to have taken the position instead of someone else. Was all your hard work finally paying off, was your creative voice finally going to be heard?
“I won..?” You weren’t sure whether to start crying with joy or run away and hide. 
“Yes!! I’m sure the judges are waiting for you so they can present the award, c'mon we have to go! Everybody is probably eager to congratulate you!” 
You felt Anna tugging at your arm, beckoning you to follow her across the room. Your eyes lifted into the crowd, before resting on that familiar, porcelain face that stared back at you.
His brows were raised, a smirk on his lips as he silently whispered ‘I told you so,’ through his gaze. He shot you two thumbs up, his eyes shining with pride. Not for him, but for you.
You sent him a warm smile, before his figure was obscured as another demon approached him. You turned your attention back to Anna, letting her lead you through the small groups of demons.
Your heart fluttered, that exhaustion that was ticking at the back of your mind fading as renewed vigor pushed your feet to move faster. And soon, you’d finally be alone once more with Lucifer, the most vibrant stroke on the canvas of your life.
As you walked, you passed by an elderly figure ambling across the room. You caught a brief glimpse of his features, enough for the recognization of the famous painter hit you in the face, making you almost halt in your tracks.
Was that Caravaggio?
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sorry this was late :(!! i took an extra day or two to chillax and celebrated my bday, but i hope the word count made up for that!
and HUGE thanks to @silasours for writing the smut!! i was not feeling it this time but i really liked the idea and thankfully they swooped in to help! go check out their page if you want to see more hazbin works like that :)!!
also, i just realized i’ve written 100k words in less than 2 months?! like 😵‍💫 wowza that’s a lot! a whole ass book lmao
let me know your thoughts, have a wonderful day! 🦢
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springtyme · 3 months
Text
𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐝 ♡
Spencer being a fish dad is so important and special to me.
Spencer Reid x f!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist
summary: Spencer comes home to find you sleeping on his couch and suddenly he can't help but ask you to take the next step in your relationship.
word count: 2.0k
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You contemplate if you should knock again or wait longer for a response, but with the silence that followed your first knock, you feel pretty sure that neither will produce a new result. You had really hoped that Spencer would be home. You could, of course, just have called him and checked, but you had thought that surprising him would be nice.
It’s early Friday evening and you were supposed to spend your night with some of your girlfriends but the plans fell through at the last minute, which you secretly had been quite relieved about. You have been feeling exhausted lately and all you really want is to share a lazy evening with your boyfriend.
As it becomes clear that Spencer isn’t home, you reach into your purse, rummaging around until you get your hands on your keychain, which now includes the spare key that Spencer had given you a few months back. You have not used it yet, and you feel a little nervous about doing so now, not wanting to invade his private space, but he had given you the key and insisted that you use it whenever you needed or wanted to.
Turning the key in the lock, you push the door open and step inside. The familiar scent of Spencer’s apartment surrounds you, making you feel instantly at home. Toeing off your shoes, and dumping your keys back into your purse, you leave them by the door and make your way further into the apartment. Your sock clad feet padding softly across the living room carpet.
You step over to the aquarium, where Spencer’s fish dart around, seemingly happy to see you, or at least you like to imagine so. You smile at them, automatically searching for your favorite, the one guppy with a slightly lighter tail and fins than the others. It’s the only one you can single out from the others, who you have lovingly named Finn, which quickly turned into Finley, and which Spencer had found quite amusing.
“Hey Finley,” you whisper, tapping very, very lightly on the glass. The guppy swims closer, as if in response to your voice, and you can’t help but feel a sense of connection with the little creature. “Where’s your dad at, huh, bud?” you ask, knowing that you won’t get an answer but still wanting to fill out the silence in the room.
You make your way over to the couch, and you can’t help but smile as you take in the sight of the pile of books scattered on the coffee table.
You notice a familiar book lying on the coffee table. It’s one you had been reading together, taking turns reading chapters to each other. You pick it up, running your fingers over the pages and feeling a pang of love and longing in your chest.
You settle onto the couch, tucking your legs underneath you and opening the book to where you last left off. As you begin to read, you can almost hear Spencer’s voice in your mind, soft and soothing, reading the words with a warmth that always makes you feel at peace. The sound of his voice, the way he’ll pause at certain moments to make a point or emphasize a passage, it all comes flooding back to you. You can almost see him sitting beside you, his eyes focused on the pages, a small smile playing on his lips.
Lost in the world of the book, you continue to read, the words transporting you to another place and time. The gentle ticking of the clock on the wall fades into the background as you immerse yourself in the story, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity wash over you.
But as the minutes pass, you start to feel the heaviness of sleep creeping in. Your eyelids grow heavy, and before you know it, you're drifting off, the book slipping from your grasp as you succumb to the pull of slumber.
You find yourself sinking deeper into the soft cushions of the couch, a sense of contentment washing over you as you let yourself relax completely. The last thing you hear before you drift off completely is the sound of the fish tank bubbling softly in the background, a soothing lullaby that carries you off to sleep.
· · · · ·
As Spencer turns the key in the lock, he feels a sense of relief wash over him. It has been a long day at work, and all he wants is to come home to the comfort of his own space and decompress, ideally with you, but he guess he’ll have to settle for just a few texts, maybe a phone call if he’s lucky.
He knows you have plans and he doesn’t want to disturb you, but he really misses you, despite having seen you only a few days ago. If it was up to Spencer he would see you every day.
As he kicks off his shoes and hangs up his jacket, he notices a pair of familiar shoes by the door that definitely aren’t his and a smile tugs at his lips, feeling a surge of warmth in his chest at the thought of you being here. The hardwood floor creaks softly under his feet as he makes his way further into the apartment, following the gentle scent of your perfume that softly lingers in the air.
As he makes his way into the living room, he can’t help but smile even wider at the sight he’s met with. You, fast asleep on his couch, the book he had been reading with you clutched in your hand. He watches as you breathe softly, the rise and fall of your chest a comforting sight amidst the chaos of his day. His heart swells with affection at the sight of you, so peaceful and serene in your slumber.
He can’t help but admire the way the soft glow of the lamp illuminates your features, casting a warm light over your face.
Quietly setting down his bag, he moves closer. His steps careful as to not wake you as he crosses the room, and sits down beside you. He feels how his heart skips a beat as he marvels at how beautiful and content you look, so utterly at ease in his home.
He leans in close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, causing you to stir slightly in your sleep and Spencer feels a surge of tenderness wash over him as he sits himself down on the floor next to you. He settles back against the side of the couch, content to just sit and watch you for a while longer. Finding you here was the best surprise ever.
As he gazes at you, he can’t help but think about how lucky he is to have you in his life. You bring him so much joy, so much light, that he can’t imagine his world without you in it. He’s so glad that you felt comfortable enough to come in, even when he’s not home.
He has never felt like this with anyone before, where he feels so at ease with someone else in his space, and who seemingly enjoys being with him despite his quirks and idiosyncrasies. He knows that you understand him in a way that few others do, and he cherishes that connection more than words can express. It’s a feeling so deep that he can’t quite put it into words, despite his proficiency with language.
After a few minutes of simply sitting in the quiet of the moment, with the soft hum of the aquarium pump in the background and the gentle sound of your chest rising and falling as you sleep, as the only sounds in the room, Spencer brings his hand to your cheek, gently stroking the soft skin of your cheekbone, his touch light and tender. He can’t help but smile at the way you unconsciously lean into his touch, even in your sleep.
Spencer watches as you begin to stir, a soft smile gracing your lips as you wake, your eyes starting to softly flutter open. As your gaze meets his, a look of confusion quickly gives way to recognition and a warm smile spreads across your face.
“Hey,” you say softly, your voice slightly hoarse from sleep.
“Hey,” Spencer responds, his own smile widening. “Did you have a good nap?”
“Yeah,” you reply, stretching your arms above your head and letting out a contented sigh. “I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in. My plans got canceled and I missed you, so I thought I would wait for you to get home.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Spencer replies, his heart swelling with affection. “I’m glad you did.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, savoring the moment of closeness between you. “I love having you here with me, always.”
You smile at him. “That’s lucky cause I love being here,” you say, leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder.
“You’re always welcome here,” Spencer says, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace.
“Careful what you say,” you tease, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “I might just take you up on that offer and never leave.”
Spencer feels a surge of warmth and longing at your words, his heart full with love for you. The question he has wanted to ask you for a while, but never found the right moment to, suddenly feels like it’s pressing against his chest, demanding to be spoken. He takes a deep breath, gathering his courage, and meets your gaze with unwavering determination.
“Well, that wouldn’t really be such a bad thing,” he begins, his voice soft yet resolute. “I know this might be a bit sudden, but...” he trails off, suddenly feeling a wave of nerves wash over him. But he pushes through, taking your hands in his and looking into your eyes with sincerity. “I was wondering if maybe... you would consider moving in with me? I love having you here, and I just can’t imagine my life without you in it. And I want us to create a home together. You obviously don’t have to answer now, and we don’t need to live here if you don’t want to. We could live at your place, or find somewhere new if that is what you want. I just want to be with you, in whatever way makes you happy,” he says, feeling the weight of his words hang in the air between you.
Spencer’s heart pounds in his chest as he awaits your answer, hoping beyond hope that you feel the same way he does, that you want to take the next step in your relationship together.
Your eyes have turned wide as you look at him with surprise and Spencer holds his breath, waiting for your response. But soon your shocked face turns into a bright smile, and tears start to glisten in your beautiful eyes. “I would love that, Spence” you say softly
Spencer’s face breaks into a wide grin, his eyes shining with happiness. “Really?”
“Really,” you confirm, leaning in to kiss him, sealing your promise with a tender touch of your lips. Spencer wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. He feels a surge of joy and relief wash over him at your answer.
You both sit there in a bubble of happiness, basking in the warmth of your love for each other. “I love you,” Spencer whispers, his voice filled with sincerity.
“I love you too,” you reply, pressing your forehead against his. “And I would love to live here with you, Spence.”
He feels like his heart is going to burst with happiness at your words, feeling a profound sense of gratitude and love for you. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have found someone who not only accepts him for who he is but also wants to build a future together with him.
“I can’t wait to have you here with me, every day,” Spencer whispers, his voice filled with love and gratitude.
Spencer pulls you in for another kiss, his heart overflowing with love for you. And as you snuggle closer to him, he couldn’t be happier to have found someone who loves him so deeply and completely.
You both sit there, reveling in the warmth of the moment, knowing that this is just the beginning of a new chapter in your relationship. As the realization sinks in that you will soon be sharing a home together.
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whoistartaglia · 4 months
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doing your boyfriend’s makeup
scaramouche/wanderer x reader
cw: very mildly suggestive at the end
“stop squirming.”
“i’m not—“
“stop talking!” you admonish, your shaky hand narrowly missing scaramouche’s eyelashes. he glares up at you through those very thick and unfairly long eyelashes. even without the mascara, scaramouche has the most gorgeous eyelashes you’ve ever seen. it’s unfair, really. you’re convinced that you could put on the entire tube’s contents of mascara on your own lashes and they would still have half as long as his.
with a huff and a pout, scaramouche closes his eyes once more. you continue to reapply the mascara in long, even strokes, hesitating ever so slightly when his flutter in a way that suggests scaramouche is seconds away from sleep—and that he might very well be. the tension of you nested on his lap and touching his face with gentle, wispy touches faded away to reveal the peace and tranquillity of the scene. it’s late into the evening hours, but the atmosphere suggests a gentle breeze, a warm summer afternoon, a harp playing somewhere in the background.
scaramouche is transported back to the bedroom, the fairy lights, and shuffled playlist playing from your small speaker, when you pause and he takes it upon him to open his eyes. you don’t reprimand him this time, instead taking a moment to study his face: the curve of his lips, the angle of his cheekbones, those eyelashes and dangerously gorgeous violet eyes underneath them.
“you’re so beautiful,” you whisper as scaramouche’s eyes flicker up to yours. “even without the makeup.”
scaramouche tilts his head as he studies your face in return. “i should be telling you that.”
there’s a smoke, a fog, a haze in the room with how you’re both lost in each other’s eyes.
“you do, though. every day.” you look down at the tube of mascara in your hands and set in on the vanity behind scaramouche. you look at yourself in the mirror before glancing at scaramouche’s reflection—even the back of his head, with it’s choppy haircut you requested a handful of times for him to let you straighten out, is beautiful.
“…do you really think so?”
you look back at scaramouche, surprised at the question. “of course i do.” you repeat yourself again for good measure. “you’re beautiful—even more than that.“
scaramouche is quiet for a second, contemplative, before a quiet, “thank you, [name].”
you know he’s thanking you for more than the compliment, more than the impromptu makeup session tonight, more than he might know himself.
“you’re welcome,” you return, meeting him in his cloudy, storm-filled eyes. your glance to your makeup bag and an idea like a bolt of lightning strikes you. “now, then. i just have one more thing. close your eyes again for me, okay?”
scaramouche does as he is told, fluttering his eyelids shut as you reach into your bag and pull out a bright red lipstick.
“you just need a little bit of chapstick.” you gently brush the “chapstick” on his pouted lips, even as he asks a, “and why did i need to close my eyes for this?” as you put it on.
you ignore the question and pose one of your own. “it’s all done! do you want to see what a lovely masterpiece your face has become?”
“do i want really to?” scaramouche asks, eyeing the open bottle of mascara and several q-tips and tissues you had to use for around the eye clean up.
“i’m going to say probably not, but you don’t have a choice.” you reach over and pickup a handheld mirror which you present infront of scaramouche. he studies his face, the long thick black eyelashes, the smuged eyeliner to bring out the lighter tones of lavender in his eyes, his lips colored—
“red.” scaramouche turns around to the vanity mirror, as if to double check that the firery red pigment on his lips is truly real. he meets your gaze in the mirror. “i didn’t know chapstick was red.”
“yeah, well… chapstick, lipstick, it’s all basically the same at the end of the day.” scaramouche sets the handheld mirror down and turns back to you, noting your oh-so innocent smile as you try to contain a laugh.
“you think you’re so funny,” scaramouche says, a new wicked gleam in his eyes.
“i’m familar with this shade because it’s always covering my lips, cheeks, and neck whenever you kiss me,” he whispers. you gulp nervously at his lascivious tone, and scaramouche is the one to smile. “consider this as payback.”
scaramouche leans in closer, and you don’t protest when his lips meet yours, staining them the same fiery red that you’re sure you’re going to be covered with by the time the sun is up tomorrow.
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belovedyandere · 1 year
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nerdy yan makes me sooo unhinged because i feel like you could do anything to him and he would probably like it… not that he could stop you, either? i imagine him being really scrawny tbh.
i just wanna ride this guys dick until he’s tryna push me off. i wanna give this man head until he’s tuggin at my hair and crying. i wanna have this guy call me mommy. i want this man to show up at my doorsteps threatening me with whatever fucked up video he had secretly filming in the background to give him whatever he wants. then i wanna fuck the life outta him.
to see you five days a week leaves him content, but to have your attention on him? within lewd context? it’s like he’s discovered a whole new world he hadn’t thought possible, and he wasn’t sure on what to do but nevertheless he was honoured. like a geeky boy who had just transported into his favourite comic book. he could never have guessed that you would want him like this. he had led himself to believe seeing you around school was enough, but the more you gave him, the more he craved. every pleasure you gifted him, it sent him to highs to the point that his body would experience withdrawals if he wouldn’t see you within the next few days. though it had him feeling anxious when you did take the lead. was he enough? between whimpers of pleasure and crying from overstimulation, he would pay attention to your reactions as you rode his cock, he wanted to see you smile, he wanted to see you cry out in pleasure, he wanted to see you mewl with ecstasy— he wanted to know if he was enough for you.
now he wouldn’t threaten you, but he will begin to crave more of you, though he’s far too shy to ever take charge. so he reserves himself to just being within close proximity, fumbling his words and fidgeting constantly, hoping you would notice his aching cock when you glanced at him, praying you would grab his arms and drag him away, begging to hear you demand him call you mummy as you slam your hips against him to the point he can’t tell where your body starts and where his ends.
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luxaofhesperides · 6 months
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For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?
Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.
They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents. 
He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.
At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.
Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.
Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.
He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside. 
Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.
But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.
At least, not until now.
Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.
For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.
White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.
And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream. 
Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high. 
He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”
“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”
Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.
Not the kid sleeping on his couch.
“You’re a ghost, yeah?”
Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”
“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”
“She’s a ghost.”
Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”
Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.
“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”
“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”
Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face. 
On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.
Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep. 
The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating. 
He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head. 
The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.
“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe. 
Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”
The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?
Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”
Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment. 
It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.
It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian. 
“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”
Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.
“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”
“I’m not dead!” she says again.
“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.
“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.
Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.
“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”
“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.
Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”
She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.
It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist. 
“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”
Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”
“What?”
“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”
She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”
“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”
Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said. 
And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body. 
Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.
“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.
Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”
“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.
Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional. 
The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.
“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”
“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”
“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”
“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks. 
“I don’t.”
“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.
Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.
“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”
Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her). 
Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.
Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath. 
He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.
“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.
“Something like that.”
“You should get some sleep too.”
“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”
Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”
“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”
“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”
Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not. 
“Then call me Duke.”
“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”
“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”
Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.
“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.
Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.
But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.
He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.
Enough to entrust his identity to him.
Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.
It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together. 
There’s no one he’d rather do this with. 
“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”
Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”
“Will you tell me more about halfas?”
“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”
“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”
Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.
So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.
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foxprints · 10 months
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Not sure who it beat the futz outta but I'm sure they deserved it
204 notes · View notes
perlelune · 1 year
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Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | iii.
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Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.
Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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"Where the hell were you last night?"
You gasp as Chad slams Ethan against a tree harshly. 
"I-I had a family emergency," the brunette stammers, chestnut eyes rounding as they bounce between Chad and the group. "You can check the hospital’s visitor’s log. That’s where I was."
Chad’s jaw clenches, his grip on Ethan’s lapels tightening. "Bullshit, man," he rumbles. "You disappear and my friend gets hurt."
You heave out a weary sigh, rubbing your aching eyes. You didn’t sleep a wink last night. Still, there’s one thing you’re clear-minded about. 
The emergency meeting Mindy called outdoors wasn’t supposed to be about turning on each other. 
A frown carves your brow as you rise from the bench and make your way to your friend. You put a hand on Chad’s shoulder. Despite still having Ethan in half a chokehold, he eases under your touch.
"Chad, come on," you coax him, your tone soft. "Ethan wouldn’t." You turn to the rest of your group. 
Tara’s expression is skeptical. Quinn looks puzzled. Anika carries an air of caution. 
And Mindy…her gaze is narrowed in suspicion as she gauges Ethan from her spot a few feet away. You lick your lips and argue, "Besides, you said you guys vetted both him and Quinn, right?"
Chad gives Ethan one long harsh stare before releasing him. 
"True," he says. 
Ethan staggers back, a careful eye trained on his roommate. 
The breath confined in your lungs flows out in relief. 
Mindy hums, her expression unchanged as she crosses her arms over her chest. 
"Doesn’t matter. Everyone’s a suspect," she maintains. When Ethan brushes past her, she shoves him away.  "Get your Ghostface ass away from me, Ghostface."
A dejected Ethan finds a seat on the bench opposite Tara and Chad. You go sit near him. As your fingers graze his arm in an attempt to comfort him, Ethan startles, his eyes enlarging at your actions. 
"I’m sorry about this," you mumble. In the background, Mindy gets engulfed in an impassioned spiel regarding how to survive horror films. It’s almost like she’s waited her entire life for this moment. You only grant her half an ear, your mind still plagued by the horror of last night. If it weren’t for Mindy dragging you out of bed this morning, you’re convinced it’s where you’d still be…nestled in the safety of your blankets and stuffed animals. "We’re all a little on edge."
Ethan gives a lopsided, bashful smile.
"It’s okay. I’m new to the friend group." His thick dark brows collide into each other as hesitation flutters on his boyish face. He points at himself and stutters, "A-Am I in the friend group?"
A bright smile unfurls on your face with ease. You squeeze his arm in reassurance as his bewildered gaze remains glued to you. 
"Yes you are, Ethan."
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The memorial held in Connor's honor flies by in a blur, as you're too shell-shocked to register most of what's going on. 
After a mere few minutes of attendance, you flee back to your dorm, discomfort stirring in your gut beneath the suspicious glares of other students. 
Not very many people encounter one of the infamous killer's incarnations and live to tell the tale. 
It's pandemonium on campus, panic permeating the air now that Ghostface has returned…and not even in Woodsboro, but right here at Blackmore university. 
The rest of the week is worse, hollow and strange. You find yourself questioning the reality of the gruesome scene you witnessed. 
And each time you close your eyes, you relive it. Each time you're transported back to that night. You're shivering on the cold cobblestones, still damp from the afternoon rain, face warm with splatters of Connor's blood. 
Prey awaiting your fate. 
If it weren't for Mindy and the others, you might have gone insane. 
While the dean advised you to go to counseling, you can't bring yourself to do it. At least not yet. All of it is too fresh. Talking about it terrifies you, so you burrow yourself in denial.
And there's also the guilt gnawing at you everyday. You did nothing. 
You cowered, weak and pathetic, while a boy got murdered a few feet away from you. 
It doesn't matter how many times Tara tries to cheer you up about it, reassuring you that you reacted as best you could, a scalding, immovable layer of shame coats your insides.
Still, you try to move on, reclaim a modicum of normalcy. 
Connor’s dead. No amount of tears and what-ifs will bring him back. 
It’s how you wind up in front of your vanity on Friday night, putting the finishing touches to your hair and makeup before you go out to meet with the cheer squad. 
While you’re not too keen on going out, Alana, the team captain, insisted that you need to participate in the trust-building exercises she has planned for the night. 
So you wiped your tears, rose from bed and picked one of your cutest outfits in order to comply with her wishes. 
Besides, Alana has a point. A big match is around the corner and you’d resent yourself if you disturbed the pyramid, or even the synchronicity of the squad’s dance routine…all because you’re too distracted. 
Cheerleading might be silly to some but to you it’s a huge part of your life, one you’re proud of. You like being part of a team. You like being surrounded by friends. You like boosting morale during matches.
You’ll never be the smartest girl in the room but you’re a damn good cheerleader at least. 
As you gauge your reflection, satisfaction blooms inside you. You artfully concealed every sign of sleep deprivation.
You want to display a resilient, happy facade. 
The onset of a smile unfans on your lips but the unexpected buzzing of your phone yanks your focus. 
You pick it up from above the sink.
As you check your phone, your brows crumple in dismay. The number calling is unknown. 
Still, you don’t mull over the weirdness and respond right away, curious who could be trying to reach you at such a late hour. 
"Hello?" you greet, your tone airy.
"Hey, princess. Wanna play a game?" A guttural voice teases on the other side of the phone. 
The breath stumbles in your throat. Your pulse goes haywire.
"I-It’s you," you croak, the room swirling around you as you wobble out of the bathroom.
Your clammy hand clutches the phone. Quickly you remove it from your ear, intent on calling 911 but the stranger tuts you, disapproval dripping from his gravelly timbre.  "Ah, don’t even try calling the police…or I’m going to get upset. Very upset." You freeze. A raucous chuckle vibrates against your cheek.  "And I don’t need to tell you the kind of things I do when I’m upset, pretty girl."
Fear echoes through your trembling voice. 
"What…What do you want from me?"
He laughs again, and it’s raspier this time, playful almost.
"What do I want from you? God, you really are the sweetest thing, you know that? All soft and innocent and just clueless as fuck."
You don’t know why but his words are like a punch in the gut. You feel small, stupid. Tears bead under your lashes. 
"Like, I said, princess…I want to play a game."
"I don’t want to play any game, please," you whimper, shaking your head. 
He hums lowly as the clamor of your wild heartbeats fills your ears. 
"Take a look at what I just sent, princess."
Dread spreads down the length of your spine. Stomach tight, you follow his instructions. You gasp. There’s a notification from an app you don’t even remember downloading at the very top of your screen. 
Your quivering thumb taps the message. 
A new window opens and a video starts playing.
Your hand flies to your mouth, an errant tear streaming down your face. 
"They make such a cute couple, don’t they?" the killer chimes, waving his knife in front of the camera he’s using to film Mindy and Anika from afar. "Would be tragic if something was to rip them apart." 
A shudder rushes through your frame, bile leaping to your throat as it seems like you might throw up any second. 
Clearly he’s standing outside the window of their shared apartment, close enough to cause them harm, and taunting you with that fact. 
"Please, don’t hurt them," you sob, more tears skipping down your cheeks. 
He snorts. "But I don’t have to…as long as you play my little game. Or I can just end it now if you prefer."
"No! I’ll play. I’ll play, I promise."
Your swift reply draws another amused sound from him. 
"Good girl," he lauds. 
For a reason you can’t fathom, his tone elicits a strange tickle somewhere in your center. 
His inflection deepens. "Just do everything I say and it’ll all be fine."
You nod frenetically, forgetting that he can’t see you. 
"Now, lock the door and get on your bed." He pauses as if he just remembered something. "Hm, it’s great that your roommate is spending the night at her boyfriend’s, right? Gives you and I the chance for some quality time with each other, princess."
Feet shaking, you teeter to your bed, shocked that he would even know something like this.
Suddenly, you don’t feel safe in your own room anymore. 
Your chest tightens. 
"You see that teddy bear next to your pillow?" Your mouth drops, your gaze traveling to your stuffed bear. It’s like he’s right there with you, breath ghosting over the back of your neck. "It’s your favorite, right? I know it is because I’ve watched you for so long. You hold it close to your heart whenever you’re sad." Your shock grows, a surge of unease swelling within you. Your hand squeezes around your mouth, more tears spilling. 
Calmly, the killer orders, "I need you to put Teddy at the end of the bed."
"Why?" you squeak, brows knitting in confusion. 
"Because I want to get a good view of your pretty little pussy when you show it to me, silly," he sings.
Heat gathers in your cheeks. "W-What?"
"Just do as I say and don’t worry your pretty head about it," he rasps, voice softer than before. 
You heed his command, collecting your bear to place it at the end of your bed. 
Ice scatters in your veins. It’s probably stupid but the beady black eyes of the bear you’ve had for years, usually a source of comfort, drill holes into your skin today. 
As if he were peering right into your soul…which is silly, so you discard the thought. 
"Don’t hurt my friends, please."
"I won’t if you give me no reason to."
"I promise. I’ll be so good..."
A throaty sound between a moan and a sigh oozing satisfaction ripples in your ear. "That’s what I like to hear," he croons. "See, everything will be fine as long as you listen to me, princess. No need to try and think. Just be a doll and do exactly what I tell you."
Silence stretches as you shiver on your duvet. 
His next words draw a tearful gasp from you. 
"Lift your skirt and remove your panties."
Weeping, you do what he asks. Your fingers quake at the edge of your panties as you pull them down your legs. 
"Yes. Such a good girl." His timbre is hoarse with lust. "What a cute pair, did you wear this for me, pretty girl?"
"I…" Your sentence trails off in a strangled sob as you’re unsure what answer he desires from you. You don’t want to end up blurting out the wrong thing and endangering your friends. 
So you play along. 
"Lie back on the bed and open your legs for me, princess."
Despite being alone in your room with only your stuffed animal as witness, you feel vulnerable as you part your thighs and expose your slit. Your center tingles as cool air hits it.
"Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Wider." Embarrassment surges within you as your lower lips are spread, displaying your wet folds. "Hm, even wider. Don’t be shy, show me everything. I want to picture what being inside you will feel like, princess."
~
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momotorin · 5 months
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my phone fell, love lmao i posted it by accident ^^ @tozakimo
strawberry kisses
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farmer!momo x baker!reader | fluff, smut | men dni!
it's been an exhausting year, especially for you. you just graduated from your university, settled for a corporate job somewhere in the bustling and loud city of tokyo. it wasn't even related to your degree, for fucks sake, but you settled for it as it paid off really well.
but then, you got another offer later during the year. working for a small bakery at night just across your apartment. it was quiet, healing, with the smell of pastry and coffee pungent in the air— it was surely something you can't compare with anything.
your corporate job got too heavy, and it got to the point that it wasn't working well anymore. you kept your job at the bakery, now working full time.
unfortunately, before november came, the bakery shut down because of unprecedented reasons; which, the owner died of oldness, which you mourned as ms. sato was the kindest person to ever teach you about anything you know about baking now, she was like a second mother, one that you held really dear to your heart.
late november, your sister, mina, went to your apartment in tokyo.
all primed and cut into the right places, mina knocks on your door, three times, "y/n! open this goddamn door!" she shouted, and you revealed yourself, wrapped around a blanket, eyes puffed with tears. "oh," she hugs you immediately, taking your head to lay on her neck as you hugged her back. "tokyo must've been so unkind to you, huh?"
"i-it is," you sobbed as she held you in her arms. "i wanna go home, mina."
"well," she chuckles, rubbing your back in comfort and warmth. "i wouldn't be here if i didn't take you home."
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it was such a pleasant feeling; taking the train home to kobe, the regret and awfulness of the big city of tokyo being transported away from you. mina was kind enough to lend you the window seat, which you really enjoyed.
mina taps you on the hand, "hey," she smiled. "it's sana's birthday in a few days..."
"oh! really?" you perked up at the mention of her girlfriend's name. "what do you plan to do?"
"nothing that big," she chuckles, her head hanging down and her hands fiddling with the rings on her fingers. "i bought a ring already, though."
"what!?" you exclaimed, hands on your mouth, trying to make yourself as shocked as you looked. "i mean, you've known each other for what... like 6 years already? i'm glad for you two."
mina sighs, "i know you are," she said. "but i just don't know how to ask her, you know? i'm not the biggest romantic out there. she is. but she's so busy with the farm and all; i know momo's there to help her but i just don't want to add to her worry if i ever ask h-"
"mina," you held your sister by the shoulders and made her look at you. "i'm not really close with sana but i know she loves you. trust me, she's been waiting for you to pop the question."
"well," she blushes. "could you help me?"
"of course," you chuckled at her. "we have like... 20 more days. so no pressure. let's just get home first, hm?"
"yeah," mina sighs as she lies back on her seat. "you know, i'd like you to meet her best friend, though." mina chuckled. "momo. such a lovely person. the girl literally leaves a couple of her fruits for us when she supplies the flour."
you smiled, imagining what she was like, how she was like, going into your family bakery back home. "she sounds delightful."
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the next day, you got your being up to go and operate the family bakery, just a few streets away from your home. you went in with mina and briefed you about the different pastries that they still serve. you added a little bit of yours, but you let it out for a while, not confident enough to put it on the pastry shelves yet.
you sighed, taking a break from kneading, baking, mixing, and carrying the goods. it's around 6 'o clock am, just an hour before the bakery opens. mina was cleaning up the dining area thoroughly, as her jazz music blasted in the background.
the bell of the entrance rings, and you jolt up, "we're not yet ope-"
"oh," the woman chuckled, bags of flour on her toned shoulders, carried by muscled biceps. mina comes to lead the woman to the kitchen, where she puts down the flour on the supply area. "um," she says. "i-i need to get the fruits, hold on."
the woman rushes outside, and you stare at her as she goes to her truck.
"that's momo," mina chuckled at your obvious flush. it wasn't one of attraction, but one of embarrassment. you should've greeted her better. "she's cute isn't she?"
she looked delightful as she sounds.
"here," momo drops the fruits on the counter, bunched up in a plastic bag. "i- um, gotta go, mina."
"no, wait," you chuckled at her obvious shyness, her timidness making her cuter than she already was. "sit for a little while. i didn't greet you well so, wait-" you smiled at her as she sat on one of the seats in the dining area. you rushed to the baking area, where you stored the eclairs that you made, pulled out the little box, and stored it for her.
"here," you handed the box of eclairs to her. "just a little trade for the fruits you got us."
she smiles, "thank you," she bowed. "are you new here?"
"oh," you chuckled as you reached out your hand, urging her to shake hands with you. "i'm y/n. mina's sister."
she gently takes your hand, "momo," she says, looking into your eyes in an obvious flush as she spoke. "i- um, i'm mina's flour supplier."
"well, she told me already," you retracted your hand from her hold, but you admit, that was the greatest handshake of your life. she stands, putting the chair back on its old position. "see you around, i guess?"
"yeah, um," she looks down on her shoes as she takes the box of eclairs. "see you around, y/n."
momo leaves shortly after, leaves you in a haze, and mina nudges at you as she sees that little interaction when she is cleaning up the counter.
she laughs, "can't believe i saw two losers interacting with each other, oh my god," she chuckles. "i'm definitely going to ask sana to set you two up on a date because neither of you are going to do it."
"is she really that fucking buff?" you asked, albeit randomly.
"jesus," mina laughs further. "you stared at her arms the whole time?"
"damn," you palmed your face in the realization. "well it was out. if it had eyes, it'll be looking at me. but she's cute."
"can't believe that my sister thirsted in front of me," mina sighed. "anyways, she lives just right beside sana's. if you wanna know that sort of thing."
well, it's not useless, you thought. "i'm not some creep... i don't just want to show up at her door."
mina laughs as she arranges the trays of pastries ready to be lined up at the pastry shelves, "trust me, she wants you to."
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the next day, you and mina, with her girlfriend, came and visited sana's farm, somewhere up the countryside. sana grew vines of grapes, with her wine distillery up the hill.
as you went up the hill, you saw various other fruits, and it reminded you of what momo supplies to the bakery everyday. you've made a jam out of the strawberries she gave, and it was as red as what you're seeing now.
"ah, momo!" sana calls out, waving to the truck that was driving by.
"hey!" momo stopped the truck, coming down from it. you looked in her direction; her hair tied up into a nice bun, her black tank top, her worn out cargo pants, and some boots. god. she looks like she's straight out of your dream. "the deliveries this day was so fucking many-" she mumbles and suddenly stops as you made your way to mina's side. "oh, hi," she greets, in a small tone. "y/n, right?"
"yeah," you smiled. "the strawberries there," you pointed. "are they yours?"
"oh," she scratched her nape, her cheeks at an obvious blush. "yeah- um, yeah it's mine."
"we'll head to the distillery for a while," sana chuckles as she held mina's hand. "take it from here, momo. she hasn't seen your side of the place."
"sana," she sighs. "alright. okay. i'll go take care of it."
you chuckled, "so, strawberries," you said. "how come they're so plump here? they're beautiful."
"well," she went to your side as you viewed the row of freshly grown strawberries. "it's all grown naturally. no pesticides or anything, i make sure that even the soil's clean."
"oh, wow," you commented. "i made a jam out of the strawberries you've been giving us," you said. "it's the yummiest ones. you want to have some?"
"oh, of course," she smiles. you can't help but melt. "the eclairs were so good though," she commented. "how come you aren't selling them yet?"
"i- um," you went silent for a second. "i'm not that confident yet with how it can turn out, you know. that's the last recipe that i learned from someone."
"well," she sighs. "i totally understand. i'll wait for those, though!"
you smiled at her. "so," you looked at her. "what do you do besides farming, momo?"
"i- um," she looks down on her shoes once more, trying to hide her obviously red face. "play drums at the local bar."
"no way!" you said, exclaiming in amusement. "wow," you commented on her. "you seem so chill. didn't expect that you're one."
"well," she chuckled. "it's a jazz bar. nothing too hardcore."
"what do you mean nothing too hardcore?" you chuckled once more, and as you two progress in talking, the more you get amazed at how incredibly delightful this woman was. "i love jazz. where do you play? i wanna go drop by."
"santorini's," she says. "it's sana's bar, actually."
"that friend of yours is one big businesswoman here, huh," you commented. "well, she's perfect with mina."
"couldn't agree more," she says. "when your sister came to her life, it was like she had forgiven anything. i mean, i came late to an invitation once and she just said 'it's okay,' like it's the most normal thing. i guess your sister really did put a bunch of ice on her head to calm her down."
you laughed loudly, astounded by the way she spoke, "ah, you're so..."
"what?" she asks.
"nothing," you chuckled. "so," you clasped your hands at your back. "will you drop by us tomorrow, too?"
"well," she blushed. "of course. i have to deliver mina's orders."
"okay," you smiled. "you don't have to be so uptight around me, you know?"
"i- um-" momo stuttered as you held her hand.
"see," you had a tight grip around her hand, letting her feel the coldness of it against her warm ones. "you're kinda- too cute for this."
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it was a thursday, and you went to the bakery right after you took your workout, a new thing that you've been wanting to do.
well, you didn't have time to change, so you baked in your workout outfit, just switching the shirt into a spare, tight, tank top. the apron was clearly useless now, probably.
momo came into the kitchen while you were taking out the freshly baked buns, one that was baking underneath the bigger oven so you had to lean down.
"oh, careful." momo notes as she passes by you. she doesn't forget the sight. you bent down like that waiting for her to get over. god. it made momo go a little crazy while she went and dropped the flour at its usual spot in the bakery supply area. she let herself take that in for a while as she sat down, closing her eyes, feeling an uncomfortable state between her legs.
"momo?" you called out to her, and you went to the supply area, where you found her just.. there. "oh," you quickly went to get some water, as she stared a little too much on your backside on those purple leggings. "here," you said, cutting her out of her daze as you handed her some water. "tough day?"
"very," she said, gulping down the water with a couple of sips. you reached out to a certain drawer in the supply area, your perfectly shaped glutes on display for her. well, fuck. you handed over the strawberry jam to her. "oh, is this it?"
"yeah," you smiled. "try it out. just get a sourdough at the shelves. don't worry, i'll pay for it."
"nope, i have plenty of those at home," she chuckled as she stood up. "i- um," she stutters once more. "are you still going? i'm playing at saturday."
"oh," you smiled, wide enough to compete with the sun. "of course, momo. wouldn't miss that."
"great!" she smiles in happiness, clutching the strawberry jam next to her.
"i'll be cheering for you," you chuckled as you put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it. "good luck!"
she chuckled. "yeah, thanks."
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saturday came by fast.
you hung out with momo last night at the market fair, along with mina and sana, who went around the carnival hand in hand.
you had your own delight with momo, who was chill at the carnival games, her winning at several ones, surprisingly as you two ate several snacks on the way. she won a big my melody plushie, which you will forever be thankful for.
you just like spending time with her. she has such immense warmth, though quite timid and shy sometimes, but she was beautiful in a way that you wanted to be consumed by her.
"god," you sigh against your bed, trying to settle into an outfit. "fuck."
"hey," mina says, her body leaning against the doorway. "having trouble?"
"yeah," you sighed as you sat up, and mina made her way to sit with you. "i've been struggling to find an outfit. i don't want something too fitting, too unrevealing, too tight, too everything- i just want something perfect for the night, mina."
mina laughs as she made way to your closet, and pulls out a specific dress. it was a black, suede, champagne dress with its straps thin just to hold the dress together.
"mina, you're a fucking genius," you sighed in comfort as you chuckled, taking the dress from mina's hands. "this is perfect, thank you."
mina laughs, "i know it is. date with momo?"
"hm, kinda like that. i'm seeing her play," you chuckled. "what about you? staying for the night?"
"i'll be at sana's," mina sighs. "she's not having the best time right now..."
"oh, like..." you stopped for a moment, understanding that her girlfriend was sick.
"she's been having a bad fever for the past few days." mina sighs.
"well," you sighed as well, but you remembered something. "i had some extra soup i made a few hours ago," you said. "maybe that could help her."
"you're a lifesaver," mina sighs in relief. "why'd you make it though?"
"just wanted something warm," you giggled. "anyways, i'll be leaving at 7."
"yeah, no worries," mina smiles. "good luck with your date!"
you arrived at the bar, a little past 7pm, perfectly in time in momo's set.
the previous band had only finished playing as you sat right in front, ordering a martini as the first drink of the night.
momo's band comes in as the dim light slowly gets stronger, you catch a sight of momo; in her signature tank top, arms out, with her pants, and a flannel tightly wrapping around the waistband of it. god. she looks so good.
the drums were, unusually, right on front and on the side, just a little beside you and she says 'hi,' with a little smile, her drumstick stuck to her fingers.
she was so cute, but then, she went on to test the tone of the drums, and it sounded great. but god, the way her muscles flexed as she took the drums to sound was so tempting that you just wanted to pull her out of the band and take her home.
but then, she catches a little glance at you again, as she sees you walk to the bathroom. she doesn't miss the subtle appearance of your cleavage, the way that the dress hugged your body so divine, and the way that your ass was so curved in it. it drove her fucking crazy.
you made your way back to your seat, as momo started the song with her band. you got another drink of the same kind.
they played really well, a couple of jazz hits, some requests, and some originals from their band were played.
momo looked at you from the crowd the whole time. you were so beautiful and irresistible in that fucking dress, that she wants to make you tell her to rip it off.
a few songs later, momo's band takes a bow, and the lights dim once more as a sign that their set was finished.
you wait for her silently at your table, now ordering your fourth drink of the night.
"hey," someone taps your shoulder from the back. "how was it?"
you saw momo in all of her glory, her flannel now covering her bare arms. she sits beside you, looking you in the eye.
"you're so great," you said. "you were so good at playing the drums!"
"well," she chuckled as she gestured to the waiter to get her the same drink. "someone important was watching, i didn't want to blow that up."
you chuckled at her, "hm, important, then? so, it's a date..."
"you could put it that way," she teased back. she leans closer to whisper to you, "you look beautiful tonight."
"thanks," you said as you put a hand on her thigh, getting her comfortable with your touches. "you're not so bad yourself. had your arms out and all on the stage."
momo laughs, "well, i didn't know you'd stare at that."
"i mean, i can help but to, you know," you confessed. "it's just so big-"
"something else is bigger- what?" she gets flustered by herself, saying the phrase. "no, oh my god, sorry, y/n... that was such a bad joke."
you just laughed and let yourself lean on her arm. "it's nothing, momo. it's okay," you placed a little kiss on her cheek. "you know, if you really wanna show it off," you slide your hands through her inner thighs, down to her crotch, feeling the material and her cock desperately straining against it. "do it, momo."
"fuck," she stands up, holding your hand, leaving the payment on the table as she makes a rush going out of the bar. "you're getting it."
"hm, let me." you chuckled as she went to open the car door for you, letting you sit down. she went and got into the other side of the car, and she drove away.
"such a little tease for me," she said, running her hand through your bare thigh. "wearing this tight fucking dress," she touches the hem of it as she drove off. "all for others to see."
you held onto your seatbelts as she creeped her fingers closer to your center. "momo-"
the teasing stopped once you arrived at her house, as she pulled you into a deep, breathless kiss. she lets you wrap your legs around her waist as she carries you inside, going to her room.
"fuck," she pulls away, closing her room's door, as she nipped on your neck, making sure that it's red enough for her. "you don't know how much i've been wanting you, baby."
you can't help but moan, and clutch your hand on her hair as she laid you down on her bed, nipping on the valley of your collarbones as she takes off your dress.
"so fucking pretty." she latches on your nipple, as she takes the other to knead with her hand.
"momo, ah- fuck," you rut your hips against her knee as she holds you by the waist. "i need you."
she pulls away from your breasts, as you kiss her, taking her flannel off, and pulling her tank top off. you held tightly to her bicep, as you gently tug on her pants, opening the button of it.
she kneels on top of you, her evident bulge just right on your face. it curved to the side of her calvin klein's, and she takes your hand to palm it.
"so warm, baby," she says, feeling the sensation of you touching it above her boxers. "take it off."
you took it off, and it springed right up, her cock red and hard, slapping up to her navel.
you took her length to your hand, pumping it up and down, as she thrusts. "so needy." you swiped your thumb on the sensitive head, making her squirm.
"wan' fuck your mouth," she whined, getting off of you for a second as she took the space beside you. "please?"
"so cute when you beg," you pumped her a couple of times, as you trailed your kisses from her chest to her stomach. she was whining, holding you by the hair as she makes you a makeshift ponytail. you licked the head of her cock, and she moans loudly. "so cute."
you finally let her fuck your mouth, the big length just sliding in and out of your throat, the tip reaching parts of your mouth you've never known before. momo knows that you were choking, but that doesn't stop her, as she pulled you down by the head to take on her 9 inch length.
"god," she stills, letting her cock pulse fully inside of your mouth. "you're so fucking good, baby."
she finally pulls out, flipping you over with her big strong arms as she kisses your neck once more. "tell me what you want, baby," she whispered. "i need you to let me fuck you like the little bitch you are."
"make me cum," you held onto her hand that was kneading your breast. "please, momo, i don't care how many times- just-"
she kisses you on the lips once more, making you shut up. "don't worry about it."
she trailed her kisses from your chest to the waistband of your panties, spreading your legs and putting it on her shoulders.
"needy little bitch, all for me," she tapped on your arousal that seeped through your panties a couple of times, which made you squirm, your thighs closing on her head. she spreads them once more, removing your panties, and now, the wetness of it glistens in front of her. she takes a long stripe from your hole to your clit, making you hold onto her hair. "and you're delicious. can't wait to eat you all night."
she latches her mouth on your clit, looking at you with utmost adoration and lust as you come apart on her tongue. she laps, circles, and plays around with it, making you moan and strut your hips to meet her tongue. she couldn't be more happier when you begged more.
"momo, fuck," you moaned out, her lips still closed and sucking your clit. "fingers, please."
she happily complies, her fingers teasing the outside of your folds, getting it wet enough to be inserted. she puts two of her fingers inside, licking at your clit, as she moves it in and out to hit your g-spot so deliciously.
"mmgh! holy shit, momo," you closed your eyes in the ecstasy of her pleasure. "more, fuck," you rutted your hips, her fingers going faster. "ah."
she pulls away, smirking as she pumps her fingers faster, now she latches on your nipple, stimulating the hard nub, as she makes you come apart on her fingers.
your juices were overflowing on her hand as she went and used her thumb to make circles on your clit. "momo!" you held onto her biceps as she kissed you on the neck. "fuck, fuck," you were becoming sensitive, with the way she was holding and fucking you with her fingers. "momo, i'm gonna-" you held onto her tightly, feeling the heat building up from your pussy.
"cum for me," she whispers, the thumb on your clit teasing you further. "cum, baby."
"fuck!" you screamed, squirting on her hand. you felt your arousal trickle on her hand, to her bed, but you felt something different. it was momo's cum, white, spurted, on your thigh. "did my baby cum untouched with that, huh?" you teased as you pumped her cock, and was surprised that it wasn't even half hard. it was still hard, ready to be inside of you.
"don't worry," you went on top of her, your hands directly touching her toned stomach, as you glide your wetness on her length. "can't wait to have your big cock inside of me," you moaned, lining up her wet cock to your hole. "mmgh," you slowly sit on it, the girth already stretching you out enough. "so fucking big, baby."
she held your arms, as you tried to sit down on her cock. slowly, you ride her, her length not fully in. she was getting impatient, so she rolled you two over, slamming her cock inside of you fully.
she lets you feel her cock inside of you, almost kissing your cervix with how big it is.
"so tight," she thrusts, holding you by the waist, fucking into you slowly to get you loosened up. "fuck, is it your first time?"
"no," you let yourself sway with her, already trembling with how big she was. "it's just that you're so big..."
"hmm, i know," she kisses you once more, a little gentle, as she tries to thrust in and out slowly. "just tell me if you're good already, hm? don't want to destroy my sweetheart like that."
you wrapped your arms around her and you smiled, "get rough with me," you whispered, your mouth forming into an 'o' as her thrusts fasten. "make me your bitch, come on- ah," you moaned, holding onto her biceps. "fuck, use that fucking cock."
"g'nna destroy your little cunt, baby," she moans, holding you by the waist, thrusting as your back arches to her touch. "i'm too big for you," she growls, putting her hand above the spot where she feels her cock bulge. "taking me so fucking well."
you continued to writhe below her, as she pumps her cock, in and out, your pleasure spot getting battered as you let out spurts of your arousal.
"you're so wet," she says, pulling out completely, and turning you over. she tucked a few pillows on your chest, letting you lean onto it as you're now positioned by her on fours. "i want you to stay like this. can you, baby?"
"hmm," you moaned, feeling your juices trickle down to the bedsheets. "fuck..."
"you're making a mess," she laughs, rubbing your folds languidly, as she inserted herself once more, shocking you. you were tighter, "you're gonna squirt on my cock, aren't you, messy girl?'
she went and rubbed your hardened clit, making you squirm and grip her sheets as you whined, screamed, and shouted her name.
she continues to thrust, fast, as she slaps your ass. "fucking slut, always having your ass out when you're at the bakery," she closes her eyes and remembered the times that your ass confined into your clothes too much as she squeezed on it, spreading it apart. "you've been wanting someone to fuck you like this, haven't you, hm?"
"yes, yes!" you screamed, holding onto her sheets as you slammed your hips back in time with hers. she pulls you to her by your hair, and she wrapped her arms around you as she thrusts, her fingers once again creating tight circles on your wet clit.
she huffs, kissing your neck once more, leaving a mark as she held you by the waist, thrusting uncontrollably when she felt your pussy walls pulse against her.
"momo," you moaned, weakly, as you leaned into her touch. "fuck, momo, fuck me more," you whined. "please-"
she pushed you gently again, making you go on fours, as she thrusts, faster than she was before, pumping her wet length in and out of you.
"am i fucking in you enough, huh," she asks in short breaths, her wet skin on your wet skin as you moaned onto her pillows. "so fucking tight, baby," she grunts, feeling your arousal grow by the minute. "cum for me."
you squirted as she continued to thrust, fucking your overused pussy as it pulsed.
"take it." she thrusts, slow, as she makes you feel her pulse. her warm liquid covers your inner walls, as she falls on top of you. "fuck," she pulls out, letting herself soften outside of you. she went and admired her work, your hole filled with her cum, dripping to your clit, but she was fast as she used her tongue to put it back in. she went back to you, making you come back to a laying position, and she makes you rest on her chest. "w's that good, baby?"
you nod against her warm chest, looking up at her. "so good," you smiled, kissing her cheek. "thank you, momo."
she chuckled, "that's nothing," she says. "how are you? did i get too rough? sorry if i d-"
"i told you, right?" you chuckled, holding her hand. "so no, you're not too much."
"well," she blushed still, as she Interlocked her fingers with yours. "what about a proper date?"
"maybe, that's too late to ask," you chuckled. "i mean, you already have me here, you know?"
she laughs, "just wanted to make sure." she kisses your forehead.
maybe, your year isn't that bad at all.
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starlitmark · 5 months
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Summary: You decided to surprise San at the office, and things get a bit… out of hand… Pairing: Dragon!San x fem bunny hybrid!reader Tropes: hybrid au, poly au (background) Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, pet names, reader has blue eyes due to being a bunny, magic usage Smut Warnings: kissing, oral (f receive), psuedo exhibitionism, possessiveness Word Count: 2,527 Note: Happy (very late) birthday, Topaz @sanjoongie! I hope you enjoy!!
Cotton Tails and Simmering Fires Masterlist
Before You Interact
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“Where are you off to?” A rather nosy pink-eyed dragon asks.
“Well,” you start, “I know Sannie’s been stressed with this merger he’s working on… I was gonna go to the office to surprise him.”
Although you’re not particularly close with Wooyoung, he’s been nothing but welcoming and kind. That only shows more when he flashes a bright smile at you, his sharp fangs showing as he does so. The bar through his eyebrow glints in the kitchen lighting as his eyebrows scrunch slightly with the intensity of his smile.
“Well, I’m finishing up some lunch, and if you want, I can pack some up so you can take it to him. It’s nothing special, just a bulgogi bowl, but I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” the white-scaled dragon offers, “I can pack some rice and veggies for you, too. If you’d like that!”
You smile at him, ears perked up on top of your head. “I’d really like that, actually, thank you.”
Wooyoung nods at you and immediately starts preparing two boxes to transport the food in. As you wait, you look at the purple-haired man in more detail than normal. Not in any way other than to observe him. He practically lives in his dance studio, so to see him now, you know you should keep a visual log of him. A tattoo of lightning strikes stands out against the skin of his neck and disappears beneath the collar of his slightly too big long-sleeve shirt as he meticulously packs the food he offered earlier. You stay silent as he does so. The silence isn’t awkward, though. With some of the Thunder, you do feel a bit of tension. With Wooyoung, though, you’ve never felt uneasy. When he hands you a small bag with the containers, he offers you another smile with a giggle laced into it.
“Have fun on your adventures! I’ll tell your other boyfriends where you’re off to in case they ask.”
You shake your head, “Jongho is with a client, Yeosang is dead asleep after trying to pull an all-nighter, and Seonghwa is booked solid. I doubt any of them will be looking for me any time soon. I appreciate the offer, though. Bye, Woo!”
And with that, you’re out the door and heading toward San’s office. It’s much too far to walk, and although your boyfriends never let you drive, you can do so. The drive isn’t horrible… until you get into the heart of the city where San’s company is housed. Among the concrete jungle, his starkly black glass skyscraper stands out. The traffic around the area leaves much to be desired. Sitting in the same spot, not even 500 feet from the entrance to the parking garage below the building, for nearly ten minutes is a form of torture you’d never wish upon anyone. Once you get to the entrance of the garage, the security simply sees the car and then your face and lets you pass. With how often you’ve shown up (typically accompanying San), the most important staff members know who you are. 
While the ride up to San’s top-floor office is long, you find yourself more excited with each floor you pass. Your tail wiggles beneath the length of your cardigan as a way to expel some of that excited energy. A few of the chairmen say hello to you in passing once you do exit the elevator. It seems that San must’ve just gotten out of a meeting with a few of them based on how many you saw. Then, stopping outside his office in front of his secretary’s desk, you lean forward toward the deer hybrid. With one elbow on top of the ledge, you rest your chin on your palm.
“Hey, you.” You call playfully.
“Oh! I didn’t know you were coming today! If I had known-”
“Somin, calm down,” you giggle, “I didn’t tell you or San I was coming. I’m surprising him. Play along?”
The other prey hybrid nods and smiles softly. You watch as she presses a few buttons on the intercom before it starts ringing. After about three rings, you hear San pick up the other end of the line. You step past her desk and stand by the large dark cherry wood doors that lead to your purple-scaled boyfriend.
“Yes, Somin?” He asks. You can hear that he’s preoccupied with some paperwork just by his tone.
“You have someone here to see you.” The deer hybrid says calmly.
“Somin…” A warning tone in his voice sends a chill down your spine and settles between your legs, “I just started my lunch break. Why would you-”
You push open the door and walk right in. A bright smile radiated from your lips, and your tall white ears stood high with joy.
“If you don’t want home-cooked food from Wooyoung or to see your favorite bunny, just say so.” You tease.
San’s pending annoyance instantly simmers, and he whisks you up in his arms. His silver lip ring stands out against his plump, pink lips as they grow into a smile. You giggle as he lifts you up and hugs you tight against his body. Typically, he doesn’t show much physical affection while he’s in his office. Him picking you up and holding you tight against his muscular frame has your heart and stomach flooding with butterflies. You feel him take a few steps back into the office before nudging the door shut with his foot. He puts you down and takes the small bag with the food from you.
“You didn’t even let me say bye to Somin.” You say with a pout.
“You’ll see her on your way out.” San reminds you, “I want to take up as much time as I can with you.”
You make your way over to the black leather couch, plop down, and wait for San to join you to eat. Normally, he eats at his desk, drowning in papers as he eats. He makes an exception with you here and sits with you on the couch. Despite the office being very formal, the couch is framed by two tall bookshelves. There’s a mix of different genres. Of course, he has some boring books that pertain to his career. But fantasy, classical, mystery, and many more books are on the shelves. San sits down beside you and pulls out the containers before placing them side by side on the glass coffee table in front of you.
“How were your morning meetings?” You question once he starts opening the containers.
“Not bad… Mr. Kim tried to tell me how to run my company again.” He starts to grumble at the end.
“And you’ve never let him.” You remind him before taking a bite of your veggies and rice. “You do an amazing job, and we both know that.”
He nods, his slitted pupils dilating when he looks at you, “It was nice of Wooyoung to make you a veggie bowl.”
“Yeah, he actually stopped me on my way out and offered to send me with the food. I think he just made too much, honestly.” You giggle.
You and San float through conversation as you eat. At some point, you whined about your food getting a little too cold for your liking. San instantly takes the container from you and heats his hand just enough to warm your food back up. As your time together progresses, you end up practically on top of your silver-eyed boyfriend. You’re tucked under his arm, legs curled up on the couch while you finish the last few bites of your food. His typically neat button-up is slightly wrinkled, and a bit of your snow-white fur has found its way onto the black fabric.
“Treasure.” San sighs, placing both containers on the table after you finish eating.
“Hmm?” you hum back, looking up at him, “Is everything okay?”
“Come sit.” He tells you while patting his thigh.
You don’t waste a second. You move from being tucked under his arm to straddling his lap. His hands fall onto your hips, rubbing his thumb against your left one in small circular motions. You normally can’t smell your scent, but now, you smell yourself clearly and smell how sweet your scent has become. A smirk touches San’s lips. You see a small tendril of smoke escape his lip. The smoke curls around his lip ring before disappearing into the air.
“You smell so good right now, Treasure.” He practically growls, “It’s taking everything in me not to jump you right now.”
“What’s stopping you?” You challenge.
A curl of smoke escapes the corner of your boyfriend’s lips, and his pupils sharpen; you can hardly see them. He’s trying so hard to maintain his composure, but you both know he’s weak to you. His large hands press harder into your hip bone, hoping to remain composed. He snaps when you whimper, and your nose starts twitching as a response to the predatory hybrid. You find yourself spun around and bent over the couch he had been seated on moments ago.
“I’m so happy you chose to wear this dress today, Treasure.” He practically growls as he kneels down, running the pad of his finger against your clothed folds, “You’re already soaked, and I’ve barely touched you.”
On a normal day, San makes you melt into a puddle. Something about doing this here in his office with the city below you makes you practically vibrate with excitement. You feel the heat of his lip ring against the back of your thigh. His kisses trail higher and higher until he’s pressing barely there kisses against your clothed heat. His lip ring burns hot through the fabric. Just when you think you may go insane from the thin barrier between your core and San’s lips, he tugs the material. A rip sounds through the office.
“You don’t need them here, Treasure. No one’s gonna see you like this but me.” he practically growls.
Before you can formulate any response, San’s tongue delves into you. The pink muscle is normally warm as is, but he seems to have heated it more. The hot feeling of his tongue deep inside you makes your thighs twitch. Your head falls forward against the back of the couch; your ears flop forward in front of your face along the leather.
“Sannie,” you whine, grinding back on his tongue more.
“Hmm?” San responds, and the vibration of his voice sends tendrils of pleasure through your body.
You can’t even think of what you wanted to say to him mere seconds ago. Instead, you grind back against his face more. Your silver-eyed boyfriend has other plans, though. You swear you can feel him smirk before letting a hand trail along your thigh. His nails scrape against your skin just enough to leave thin red marks in their wake. The fingers trail around between your thighs just in front of his face and start gently grazing across your clit. Just enough for you to be aware of the stimulation but not enough to give you any release.
“Do you want something, Treasure?” He mumbles before continuing to lap at your folds.
“Sannie,” you whimper, “want- fuck- want-” You cut yourself off with a moan.
You try to push back against him again, only to have his other hand grip your tail. You let out a loud moan and tremble at the contact. Your orgasm comes out of left field, and you crumble against the couch as your boyfriend helps you ride out your high. The moment you come back down, you find yourself limp over the back of the couch. Your thighs are still trembling, and your snowy ears twitch slightly.
“Treasure.” San calls with authority in his tone, “You didn’t answer my question, I’m afraid-”
His words get cut off by the sound of his desk phone ringing. You hear a huff before he strides over. Rolling so you lay against the cool leather. San clearly is hard inside his dress pants but focuses on getting to the incessant ringing phone. He throws himself back in his large office chair and presses the button to allow the call to be on speaker.
“M-Mr. Choi,” It’s Somin, “The officials from-”
The sound is cut off from your ears when San picks up the phone and brings it to his ear. You glance at the scraps of your panties on the floor and kick them under the couch before quietly walking up to your boyfriend. His eyes follow you as he listens to his secretary.
“You mean to tell me that they’re an hour early? They aren’t supposed to be here until 3pm.”
You don’t hear Somin’s response, but San’s silver eyes dart to the clock on the wall. It is 3pm. Your pale blue eyes meet San’s silver ones before you step closer. You push his shoulder just enough to move his chair back. The chord of the phone stretches just a bit but not enough to strain it.
“What are you doing?” The purple dragon mouths to you.
You hold a finger up to your lip. You kneel down and shimmy your way under his desk. His pupils are thinly slit again. Seeing the shift from how dilated they were moments ago sends shivers up your spine. His eyes stay trained on you as you run your hands over his strong thighs. Another curl of smoke escapes his lips. He’s trying so hard to hold back.
“H-huh? Yes, Somin, I heard you. Yes, yes-”
San takes a sharp breath when your hand runs over his clothed member. You can feel the small hard bubbles that run up his member. Your mouth waters like a Pavlovian response to it.
“They’re downstairs, you said?” San asks, trying to maintain his composure. “Yeah, send them up.” he tells her, a fire burning in his eyes as he watches you. “She’ll be leaving shortly, it’s okay.”
You give him big, innocent eyes, and ears back against your hair as you start to play with his belt buckle. He leans forward and places the phone back on the stand. A small flicker of flames is visible as he pulls his hand back from the device. He gives you a burning stare, his pupils practically swallowed by the metallic silver swirling in his irises.
“Behave yourself.” He bites, “If you can behave while I have this meeting, you’ll be forgiven from enduring that punishment I was about to dole out.”
You nod, “Can’t I have a bit of fun, though?” You bat your eyelashes at him, hoping to sway his choice.
“After they’re seated.” He caves, “And you’ll take whatever I give you. No funny business, understand?”
“Yes, sir!” You respond with a slightly teasing giggle to your tone.
A growl, followed by a tendril of smoke from his nostril, escapes him. He looks as though he’s about to correct your rather sudden bratty behavior before a knock sounds on the dark cherry wood door. He doesn’t say a word to you, but his eyes speak for him. ‘Behave yourself and stay quiet, or you’ll pay the price.’
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struniolos · 6 months
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wish you were sober! pt. 2
“save me 'til the party is over.”
chris sturniolo x fem! reader.
synopsis: when reader is overwhelmed at a party & finds herself in unlikely company. (no fame au.) this is the second part, you can find the first part here.
warnings: smut, literally pure filth. minors do not interact. also unprotected sex, don’t try this at home kids! don’t be silly wrap your willy!
the music in the background becomes a soft lull of bass, as your ears almost completely tune it out. you fully let yourself transport into another world. your lips move in tandem with chris’ as your hand snakes up his shirt to feel his warm skin, your fingers tangled in loops of his soft hair. he’s breathing heavier now, puffing hot air into your lungs. you breathe him in, sucking his tongue and moaning as you feel him snake a hand to your butt, gripping it hard.
you find yourself unable to possibly get any closer to him, wanting to jump out of your skin into his if it was possible. your cheeks are burning, the cool breeze wafting through the slightly cracked window not seeming to help. his hips start to slowly roll into you, both his hands now coming up to cup your cheeks as he kisses you deep.
“i want to taste you.” chris whispers into your mouth between kisses, your foreheads bumping together.
you feel your pussy throb at the thought of him devouring you, his head between your legs. you nod, biting your lips as you help him hoist you up onto the bench top, your back leaning against the mirror. his eyes were a darker blue than you remember, swirling with lust. chris pushes your skirt up, revealing your panties that constricted your soaked pussy. a wet patch lay at your folds, and you feel a flush of shame wash over your body, and you cover your face with your hands.
“don’t be embarrassed.” he tells you, “it’s actually kinda hot.”
“oh.” you grin, lowering your hands.
“can i?” he asks, running his palms up your thighs.
you nod. “please.”
chris pulls your panties down to your ankles, and pushes your legs apart softly. you feel so exposed, the air coming in contact with your sex making you shudder. he begins peppering kisses over your inner thighs and pelvis, everywhere but where you needed him. you squirm impatiently, and he raises an eyebrow.
“relax.” he says softly, as he runs a finger down your folds to collect your slick.
seemingly testing the waters, he flattens his hot tongue against your pussy, licking a long stripe. you throw your head back against the mirror, letting out a pathetic whimper. chris uses his thumbs to pry you open, nuzzling his nose to your clit as he begins his assault on your starved pussy.
he was encased in your legs, his arms looped under your thighs and coming around to hold your lower stomach. one hand began to rub your sensitive bud in slow circles while the other held you open for him to dive his tongue in and out of your opening. you swear you saw stars, as he tongue fucked you. he dipped it in and out, collecting your juices and muffling his moans. you were a mess, moaning and squirming in his arms. his hand on your lower belly held you in place, as his finger left your clit and sunk into your walls.
“oh god!” you yelp, your hand quickly gripping onto a tuft of his hair.
chris pushed your thighs up so that they pressed against your stomach, folding you in half. he pumped his finger in and out of your leaking hole as he nuzzles his face into your pussy. you whimper and cry as his pace is relentless, feeling your orgasm building up in your lower stomach. you were embarrassed at how quickly you were going to finish, but you couldn’t help it, the way he had managed to work you up in such little time amazed you.
“chris i’m- oh!” you cry, feeling yourself convulse around his fingers as he helps you ride out the wave of your orgasm. your legs quiver in his grip, as he gives your pussy one last lick, soaking up your wetness.
as chris lowers your legs back down gently, you meet eye to eye with him. he swallows as he catches his breath, his hair mussed and lips glossy and puffed. you pull him in for a deep kiss, not caring that you could taste yourself on his tongue. he tosses his shirt off in one swift movement, and you quickly do the same- only leaving you in a bra and your skirt. he palmed your breasts, his whole hand encasing each one as he squeezed. you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly, unsure if you were able to possibly pull him any closer.
you begin to palm his crotch, feeling his rock hard heat, but he stops you.
“you don’t have to.” he tells you breathlessly, his hands swiping down your cheeks to rest on your neck, his thumps at your lips.
you kiss the pads of them, “i want to.”
his tongue wets his lips, a devilishly handsome smirk adoring his face. no other words were needed. you take his thumb into your mouth, letting it rest on your hot tongue as you suck it briefly before letting go with a pop. chris’ eyes are fixed on you, mesmerised. he wastes no time in assisting you to undo and pull down his shorts, both of your hands fumbling together desperately. his shorts pool at his ankles, his cock visibly strained in his boxers.
you bite your lip as you feel your mouth water at the sight of him. you have never been so turned on in your life. you swap places, so chris leans against the counter, his chest slightly flushed as well as his cheeks and the tips of his ears that are peaking from under his hair. he stares at you with lidded eyes as you kneel, in direct eyeline with his boxers.
quickly and albeit a little awkwardly, you pull his boxers down to his thighs to reveal his weeping cock. it slaps up against his lower stomach, and your eyes go wide. god, he was beautiful everywhere. hesitantly, you grab his cock in your hand, feeling the weight and warmth. your mouth kisses the tip as your eyes look up to lock with his. he hisses, the look in his darkened blue eyes nothing short of pleading.
you slowly sink your mouth down his shaft, try to swallow as much of him as you could. realising just how inexperienced you were, you grabbed with your hand whatever you couldn’t get to. you felt a strange pleasure in the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat as hot tears began to prick your eyes. he breathed out gruffly, his hand running through your hair to push it out of your face. there was nowhere to hide now.
you suck him up and down slowly but deeply, lingering at his tip once you’d get there. you use his precum and your saliva as lube, pistoning your mouth up and down his shaft. you try your best to nuzzle your nose at his lower stomach, swallowing him whole, but you only last a few seconds before having to pull yourself back. you cough, and he lets out a primal groan.
“fuck.” chris groans, throwing his head back. “that felt so good.”
you look up at him, batting your lashes. “you liked that?”
“yeah.” he smiled, running his pointer finger over your jaw and eventually coming to hold your chin. “is it okay if i guide you?”
“mhm.” you hum, grinning wide, knowing it means he wants to use you as a toy and fuck your throat.
wanting to please him, you take a deep breath and open your mouth wider and take as much of him as you can, feeling him hit the back of your throat. he grabs the sides of your head, guiding you up and down his length. his pace quickens, starting to thrust into your mouth as you gargle on your saliva, his cock hitting the back of your throat. you clench your inner thighs together, wetness gathering at your folds.
“fuck, i’m not going to last much longer.” he warns, as he pulls you off of him, saliva running down your chin and dripping to your chest. it was filthy.
“then fuck me already.” you growl, grinning wide and feeling a surge of confidence through your body.
he helps you to your feet, embracing you in a hot kiss full of teeth and tongue. he grabs your hips and hoists you up onto the counter once more, flicking your skirt up. his dick was rock hard, seeping with precum. you pressed your foreheads together, as you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him in closer.
“i don’t have a condom.” he tells you, as you begin to kiss down his neck.
“i don’t care.” you whisper against bod hot skin, just wanting him inside you already. it pained you to think you had to wait a second longer. he nods, seemingly convinced enough- you imagined his mind was blurred with only thoughts of sex just as yours was.
it was all so out of character for you, so foreign- but it was as if he awoken something deep inside of you that you’d struggle to tame.
you uncoil your bra, freeing your breasts. chris dives down to kiss them, holding them together and bouncing them. you moaned, lolling your head back. he sucked on each, licking and biting your rock hard nipples.
“even better than i imagined.” he says, palming and squeezing them.
“you were thinking about my tits?” you laugh, running a hand through his hair.
“well, yeah.” he chuckled, shrugging.
chris began to line up with your entrance, pumping himself lazily. his eyes locked with yours, biting his swollen lips. “make sure you tell me if anything doesn’t feel good or whatever, okay?”
spoken like a true gentlemen. you laugh at his nonchalant nature. “i will.”
he begins to sink the tip into your tight walls, and you hiss at the pressure. he looks at you worriedly, but you shake your head.
“sorry, it’s um…been a while.” you confess shyly.
chris smiles, ducking his head. “me too.”
relief washes over you, feeling a little less like a loser. he continued to push into you, and the slight pain begins to fade away as pleasure takes over. you leaned your foreheads together, breathing heavily as you adjusted to his size. you could see his freckles now, lightly spattered over his nose and cheeks- you imagined they became more visible in the summer.
you begin to nod, urging him onwards. chris grand your waist gently, not too hard, using it as leverage as he began to thrust in and out of you at a leisurely pace.
your jaw falls slack at the feeling, a guttural moan escaping you. you snake your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer as he continued to thrust into you. you felt like a snake constricting it prey before it killed it. something primal in you was emerging.
“fuck.” chris groaned, his head falling to your shoulder. “you’re so tight.”
his thrusts only became more harsh, his pace not increasing but the roughness. it felt so ridiculous good you thought you’d pass out. your hips snapped together, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist as he began to grunt at each thrust. you were sure you could get off just from hearing the pretty noises he would make in your ear.
it was passionate, not too tough or greedy- he wasn’t only trying to chase his own pleasure. he began thumbing your clit, and you moaned into his mouth, kissing him deeply. he was inside of you so deep you could feel him in your belly, his balls slapping against you. without notice, he pulled out of you, and you almost cried at the loss of contact.
“i’m gonna turn y’round.” he whispers, giving you a firm kiss before spinning you around. you rested your weight on your forearms, and poked your butt out for him to admire. you could see in the foggy reflection of the mirror the way he was looking at you, and it made your pussy flutter.
you yelped in pleasure as he thrust back into you without warning, bottoming out. he moaned messily as he gripped your waist with one hand and palmed your ass with the other. he began thrusting into your harder now, moaning filthily as his mouth hung open.
“faster, please.” you begged, a crying, sweaty mess.
“okay, pretty girl.” he purred, as he began to pump into you harshly, his pace quickening. he pound into you, your walls tightening around him as you felt your orgasm building once more. he lifted you up so your back was to his chest, bodies flush. he snaked an arm around your neck to hold you in place. chris fucked into you mercilessly, as you whimpered and cried for him to go faster, faster as you watched him fuck you through the mirror.
it was hot and filthy, sweat beading at your forehead and a light sheen covering your body. he thrust into you so hard you could barely speak- all you could do was whimper and cry.
“you look so pretty when you make those noises for me.” he praised, thrusting deep inside of you.
“oh god! i’m coming- fuck!” you cried, as you collapsed back onto your forearms, beginning to see stars once more. white hot light flashed around you, as your body shook rapidly as your orgasm took over. chris fucked you through it, your sensitive walls convulsing around him. you could feel he was about to finish, too.
“fuck.” he groaned, as his hips began to jerk. he quickly pulled himself out of you, and you watched in the mirror as he pumped his come all over your back (and probably your skirt).
you felt the sticky hot liquid coat you, and you smiled in satisfaction. he crept over your body to kiss your sweaty cheek. “let me clean you up.”
chris grabbed a bundle of toilet paper and ran it under the tap briefly. he wiped his mess from your skin, as you were collapsed into a heap against the counter, completely satisfied. like you were a hungry animal that had been a fed.
“sorry i um…i tried.” he laughs, pointing to your back.
“it’s okay, i appreciate the effort.” you smile, turning around to give him a slow, sultry kiss.
you pull apart from each other, now face to face once more, still both completely naked (save your skirt). he looked at you so sweetly, like he hadn’t just done the most filthy, vile things to your body. his hair was a mess, his cheeks and chest still flushed and lips puffy. he wasn’t real, you were convinced.
you both got dressed in silence, the weight of the situation starting to come into affect. you couldn’t believe what you’d done, it was so not like you- to not only hook up with someone at a party but someone like chris sturniolo? it was insane. at highschool you never would’ve thought you’d have a chance with him.
“so um, what now?” chris said, snapping you out of your daydream.
you looked over at him, his singlet sticking to his body and muscles taught and sweaty.
“i guess we go down stairs and act like nothing happened.” you shrug, saddened by the thought but knowing it was what would usually happen in these situations.
“or, we could go somewhere else?” chris suggested, zipping his shorts back up.
your heart fluttered, and you swore you felt it skip two beats. “somewhere else?”
he nods, grabbing your hand. “you could come back to my house, matt wouldn’t mind. the van has plenty of room.”
“okay.” you smile giddily. you couldn’t believe this was happening, there was no way this beautiful man wanted to spend more time with you.
chris tucks a hair behind your ear. “what d’you say?”
“why not.” you shrug, trying to act nonchalant as you thread your fingers through his to hold onto his hand tighter.
you and chris quickly make your way down the stairs, hand in hand, as he drags you through the thick crowd of drunk and high twenty-somethings, the music so loud you could feel it in your throat. never had you felt so alive.
379 notes · View notes
thedensworld · 2 months
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Rewind Button | J.Ww
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Pairing: Wonwoo x reader
Genre: angst, time travel, bestfriend
Summary: If Wonwoo had a time machine, he would definitely go to crash your wedding.
Warning: mention of arranged marriage, sexual abused, suicidal activity, depression.
TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY! COMMENT YOUR WISH FOR ME HEHE🙈🙈
***
Wonwoo stirred from his sleep, disoriented and bewildered by his unfamiliar surroundings. He glanced around, his eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains of his old apartment studio. Confusion clouded his mind as he realized he should be gearing up for an action scene shoot in just ten minutes, yet here he was, inexplicably back in his past.
Memories flooded back as he recalled the sensation of being in his car, the soft melodies of music playing in the background. But why was he here now?
Before he could fully process his confusion, the shrill ring of his phone shattered the silence, jolting him from his thoughts. With trembling hands, he reached for the device, his heart pounding with trepidation as he saw the caller ID: Mingyu.
It had been nearly five years since they last spoke, and the sudden call from his old friend only added to the surrealness of the moment. Wonwoo's mind raced with questions, his emotions a turbulent whirlwind as he hesitated before answering, unsure of what awaited him on the other end of the line.
"Hello," Wonwoo's hoarse voice greeted Mingyu, his mind still reeling from the surreal experience of being transported back in time.
A rush of urgency flooded through the phone line, Mingyu's voice filled with frantic energy. "Hyung! Where are you?! The ceremony will start in 2 hours!"
Wonwoo blinked in disbelief as memories of this very conversation, this same heated exchange with Mingyu, flooded his mind. It was a moment from the past, long gone, yet here he was, reliving it once again. Why was he experiencing this déjà vu?
"Hold on, Mingyu," Wonwoo managed to utter, struggling to process the situation unfolding before him.
"Hyung! Are you listening to me?" Mingyu's voice cut through Wonwoo's thoughts, pulling him back to the present moment.
"I'll be there," Wonwoo murmured softly before ending the call, his mind swirling with confusion and disbelief. As he hung up, a sense of unease settled over him, leaving him grappling with the inexplicable phenomenon that had just occurred.
As Wonwoo's mind raced, replaying the moments leading up to his unexpected reunion with you, his heart pounded with a mixture of apprehension and longing. He wasn't accustomed to making requests or wishing for things, always content to be the grateful, considerate person others admired. But tonight, as he lay in bed, his silent plea had been answered, thrusting him into a whirlwind of emotions.
Meeting you again after five long years, on the set of his latest film where you were cast as a cameo, had ignited a torrent of memories and regrets within him. The scene played out in his mind like a haunting film, your presence stirring feelings he had buried deep within himself.
As you both discussed the upcoming scene, the unspoken tension between you hung heavy in the air, overshadowing the easy camaraderie you once shared. Wonwoo couldn't help but notice the bruises hidden beneath your hair and sleeves, a stark contrast to the vibrant spirit he remembered from your past encounters.
When he finally mustered the courage to approach you in private, your first question pierced through his defenses like a dagger to the heart. "Why didn't you come to my wedding?" you asked, your voice calm but laden with disappointment.
Wonwoo was rendered speechless, his throat constricting with guilt and regret. He had never prepared himself for this moment, never anticipated facing you again under such circumstances.
"I read your letter, and I was so disappointed you didn't come," you continued, mentioning the drunken confession he had penned before your wedding day, a stupid letter.
"Mingyu too, he felt the same about our friendship," you added, invoking the name of their mutual friend.
Unable to meet your gaze, Wonwoo could only mutter a feeble apology, his fingers fidgeting nervously.
But when you rolled up your sleeves, revealing the bruises marring your skin, his heart shattered into a million pieces. He longed to reach out, to offer comfort and solace, but fear held him back, afraid that even the slightest touch would break you further.
"Did Mingyu know about this?" Wonwoo finally managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded solemnly, confirming his worst fears. "But he couldn't do anything," you confessed, your words heavy with resignation.
Silence enveloped them both as Wonwoo struggled to process the weight of your words, the guilt and helplessness threatening to suffocate him.
"I was waiting for you," you whispered, the memory of your wedding day haunting your expression. "Since you promised."
Your laughter, tinged with bitterness, echoed in the cramped confines of the van, and Wonwoo felt his heart shatter all over again. "But you never came."
*
Wonwoo, dressed in his usual attire, rushed to the venue of your wedding ceremony, his mind spinning with confusion and urgency. Was this all just a dream, or had he truly been thrown back in time as he had desperately wished for earlier?
Mingyu's surprise was evident as he greeted Wonwoo, his eyes scanning his friend's unconventional choice of outfit – a black hoodie and baggy faded denim pants. Wonwoo's appearance, fresh only from a quick face wash, stood in stark contrast to the formal attire expected for such an occasion.
"Why are you dressed like this? Today is a special day!" Mingyu exclaimed, his concern evident in his voice as he pulled Wonwoo aside, shielding him from prying eyes.
Wonwoo blinked rapidly, unsure of how to explain his sudden appearance and disheveled state. If he were to tell Mingyu the truth – that he had traveled from the future to prevent you from suffering in an abusive marriage – he knew his friend would dismiss it as absurd.
"I need to meet Y/n," Wonwoo replied impatiently, his sense of urgency overriding any concern for social norms or propriety.
Mingyu furrowed his brows, his hand resting reassuringly on Wonwoo's shoulder. "We talked about this, man. You said you'd give up on her."
Wonwoo's heart clenched at the memory of his previous conversation with Mingyu, where he had resigned himself to letting you go. "Yeah, I know," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret.
"But I changed my mind. I can't let her go," Wonwoo confessed, his determination shining through despite the obstacles ahead.
Mingyu sighed, realizing the gravity of Wonwoo's intentions. "Isn't it too late? You know her husband is someone with power," he cautioned, his concern for both Wonwoo and you evident in his words.
"I promised her that I'd come today, help her cancel the wedding," Wonwoo explained earnestly, his gaze unwavering as he met Mingyu's widened eyes.
"No way! You know what would happen to both of you," Mingyu protested vehemently, his concern for their reputations and public image overriding any sense of recklessness.
Wonwoo took a deep breath, steeling himself before dropping a bombshell on Kim Mingyu. "She's pregnant with mine," he stated firmly, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.
Mingyu gasped in disbelief, his eyes widening in shock. "What?!" he exclaimed, unable to comprehend the gravity of Wonwoo's revelation.
Wonwoo nodded, his expression solemn as he tried to convey the truth of his words to Mingyu. "I'll explain everything later, but right now, I need to meet her," he insisted, his voice tinged with urgency and determination.
As the weight of Wonwoo's revelation sank in, Mingyu could only nod in reluctant understanding, realizing that his friend's resolve was unshakeable. Together, they stood on the precipice of a decision that could change the course of your lives forever.
*
"When he found out i was pregnant with other man, he practically almost murdering me everyday. He made sure that i was suffering and i ended up losing the baby. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you poured out the painful truth, revealing for the first time to Wonwoo that you had been carrying his child. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, each syllable laden with the agony of your suffering.
Wonwoo held you tightly in his embrace, his heart breaking as he realized the extent of your torment. Guilt gnawed at him relentlessly, a relentless onslaught of remorse for his past actions. He closed his eyes, unable to bear the weight of his cowardice – the cowardice that had cost him your love and the life of his own child.
In that moment, he saw himself for what he truly was: a coward who had let fear dictate his every move. He had been too afraid to pursue a relationship with you, convinced that you were too perfect, too good for someone like him. And in his cowardice, he had stood by while you suffered unimaginable horrors at the hands of your husband.
As you spoke of the threats and abuse you endured, Wonwoo's heart shattered into a million pieces. The thought of you enduring such torment while he remained silent filled him with a profound sense of shame and regret.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I should have protected you. I should have been there for you."
But your confession only deepened his anguish, as you revealed the depths of your despair. "But I'm so tired," you admitted, your voice trembling with exhaustion. "Every day feels like hell, and I just want to die."
Wonwoo's heart clenched at your words, the pain in your voice echoing the turmoil in his soul. He vowed in that moment to do whatever it took to save you, to break free from the shackles of his own cowardice and finally stand by your side. For he knew now, more than ever, that he could not bear to lose you again.
A week later, news of your attempted suicide rocked Wonwoo to his core. As he stood in the hospital corridor, waiting anxiously for any update on your condition, the weight of his guilt threatened to crush him. The letter found at the scene revealed the depths of your suffering, documenting the abuse you endured at the hands of your husband.
Finally, after five long years, Wonwoo came face to face with Mingyu in the hospital aisle. Mingyu's eyes held a silent accusation, and Wonwoo couldn't bring himself to meet his friend's gaze. He bowed his head in shame, unable to deny the wrongs he had committed.
But to Wonwoo's surprise, Mingyu's arms enveloped him in a tight embrace, his own tears mingling with Wonwoo's. "Hyung... She'll be alright, right?" Mingyu choked out between sobs, his voice thick with worry and fear.
Wonwoo wished desperately that he could offer Mingyu reassurance, to tell him that you would indeed be alright. But the truth weighed heavily on his conscience, threatening to suffocate him. He longed to confess that everything that had transpired was just a dream, that you were safe and alive, and that you belonged to him. But his fear held him back, sealing his lips shut once again.
As the situation began to calm, Mingyu turned to Wonwoo, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Did she tell you?" he asked, his voice tinged with resignation.
Wonwoo nodded silently, his heart heavy with remorse.
Mingyu sighed, his gaze drifting towards the room where you were being tended to by medical staff. "I just hope that asshole didn't use his money to free himself," he growled in anger, his fists clenched in frustration at the thought of your abusive husband escaping justice.
"For these five years, she's suffered a lot," Mingyu continued, his voice tinged with sorrow. "I want to help her, but there's nothing I can do besides offering emotional support."
He paused, his expression pained as he revealed the truth behind your intentions to reconnect with Wonwoo. "She told me that she was going to meet you for a shoot. She actually just wanted to be friends again. There was no intention of telling you the whole situation. But I forced her."
Mingyu's words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of Wonwoo's actions and the pain he had caused. As he listened to his friend's words, Wonwoo felt a surge of remorse wash over him, knowing that he had hurt not only you but also those who cared for you deeply.
*
Mingyu accompanied Wonwoo as they approached your room, his hand gesturing for Wonwoo to enter and have a conversation with you. Wonwoo, visibly nervous, stepped into the room, scanning the space until his eyes fell upon you sitting on the couch. However, instead of your usual charm and charisma, he noticed a subdued air about you. Nevertheless, your face lit up when you saw him, and you rose from your seat.
As Wonwoo rushed towards you, pulling you into his embrace, you felt a mix of surprise and comfort flood through you. "Let's take you out of here," he whispered urgently, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze.
Your eyes widened, a hint of fear flickering across them. "But I can't," you protested, your voice trembling. "He's not just a random person, Wonwoo! He would sue us."
Wonwoo shook his head, determination etched into his features. "We confront him," he insisted, his voice firm yet reassuring. "And tell him the truth." His words carried a sense of resolve, offering you a glimmer of hope in the midst of uncertainty.
Tears welled up in your eyes, reflecting the turmoil within you. "But what about our careers?" you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. "We're going to be doomed after this... Think about yourself, Wonwoo!" You pleaded, trying to shake him out of his determination.
Wonwoo held your shoulders firmly, his gaze unwavering. "In another universe, I was selfish," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret. "But I ended up losing our friendship, losing Mingyu. I ended up losing you..." His words hung heavy in the air, carrying the weight of past mistakes and missed opportunities.
Confusion furrowed your brow as you searched his eyes for understanding. "What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
Wonwoo's grip on your arm tightened, his resolve unyielding. "We don't have much time," he urged, his voice urgent. "Let's go to the groom."
Quickly, Wonwoo waited for you to change into comfortable clothes, both of you donning masks and hats to conceal your identities. With Mingyu's help, you found the groom, who was engrossed in conversation with guests. Mingyu motioned for both Wonwoo and you to retreat to a private area before confronting him.
The groom's surprise was evident as he laid eyes on you standing outside your room without your bridal gown. Before he could react, Mingyu and Wonwoo restrained him. Wonwoo realized the groom had no control over himself; he wasn't your husband yet.
"Let's stop the wedding," Wonwoo declared, his voice firm as he initiated the discussion. The furrowed expression on the groom's face spoke volumes about his response.
But before he could utter a word, Wonwoo dropped the bombshell. "She's pregnant with my child. We've been having an affair even before you entered the picture." The groom's composure shattered, his anger palpable.
"What does it mean, Y/n? We discussed this already."
As the groom moved towards you, Wonwoo and Mingyu intervened, shielding you from harm. Wonwoo signaled for Mingyu to escort you to his car while he dealt with the groom.
With an imposing presence, Wonwoo approached the groom, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the groom's agitation. "Y/n will pass away five years from now," Wonwoo revealed, his words laced with a solemn warning. "And you'll be behind bars for abusing and murdering her. I know your violent tendencies with women, so don't come near us unless you want the media to know."
Enraged, the groom grabbed Wonwoo's clothes, but Wonwoo effortlessly freed himself, straightening his attire. "I'm from the future," he declared, his voice steady. "We could stand here all day discussing your future, but let's prevent it by canceling this wedding."
*
Dear Yoon Y/n,
It's your friend, Jeon Wonwoo. I want to start by apologizing for my absence after that night. I couldn't bring myself to face you because everything changed between us. I no longer saw you as just a friend.
To be honest, it's been a long time since I've seen you that way. You've become more than a friend to me; you're a woman. I confided my feelings for you to Mingyu, and when I admitted I liked you, he punched me. Yet, he confessed he saw it coming.
For a fleeting moment after that night in your apartment, I was happy. I knew we were both intoxicated, but I didn't regret a thing. Yet, I couldn't shake the uncertainty of whether you felt the same way about me. Did you feel the same love as I did for you?
Today, I received your wedding invitation, and I couldn't muster the courage to confront you in person about how much I love you. Mingyu mentioned it was an arranged marriage, which gave me a sliver of hope that you might not love him. But at the end of the day, he'll be the one who owns you, right?
I want to be him. I want to be him so badly. If I were to attend your wedding and ask for your love, would you want to run away with me?
If your answer is yes, then I promise to be there.
With all my love,
Wonwoo
*
Wonwoo sat beside Mingyu, the weight of grief heavy in the air after attending your funeral. Mingyu handed him a book, your diary, a crucial piece of evidence detailing the abuse you suffered at the hands of your husband. Wonwoo's fingers traced over the cover, feeling the weight of your words within.
As he flipped through the pages, his heart clenched at the entry describing the morning of your wedding day, when you discovered your pregnancy. "She must have been waiting for me," Wonwoo thought, his throat tight with emotion.
Each word in your diary painted a vivid picture of your pain and suffering. Wonwoo read with tears streaming down his cheeks, feeling every pang in his chest as he absorbed the honesty and rawness of your emotions.
The diary was a testament to the strength you had to endure such torment, and Wonwoo couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a mixture of sadness, anger, and admiration for you. It was a journey through your deepest struggles, and Wonwoo vowed silently to ensure that justice would be served for you, no matter the cost.
"Gyungmo raped me that night. He wanted to kill my baby." Wonwoo closed the book, barely able to continue it.
Anger, guilt, and regret crashed over Wonwoo like a relentless tsunami. Jung Gyungmo, the source of your suffering, must pay for his atrocities, Wonwoo thought, his fists clenched with fury.
"We hadn't spoken for months after her wedding," Wonwoo recounted to Mingyu, his voice heavy with remorse. "But she called me in the dead of night, desperate for help. Her husband was nowhere to be found when I arrived. She was barely holding on, her body weak, blood staining her legs."
Mingyu turned to face Wonwoo, his expression mirroring the sorrow etched in his friend's features. "She was five months pregnant, enduring unimaginable stress and abuse," Mingyu explained, his voice cracking with emotion. "And she lost your... your baby."
Wonwoo's heart shattered into a million pieces as the weight of your pain crashed down upon him. The realization that he could have done more, should have been there for you, gnawed at his soul like a relentless beast. The guilt and anguish threatened to consume him whole as he grappled with the cruel reality of your suffering.
Mingyu's voice trembled as he struggled to continue speaking, the weight of your absence crushing his heart freshly from your recent funeral. Tears streamed down his cheeks uncontrollably, his grief pouring out in waves. Despite his own pain, he reached out to Wonwoo, his arms wrapping around his best friend in a tight embrace, seeking solace in their shared sorrow.
"It's not your fault," Mingyu whispered, trying to offer some comfort amidst the overwhelming anguish.
But Wonwoo's voice quivered with guilt as he choked out his words, his tears mingling with Mingyu's. "This is my fault!"
Mingyu shook his head vigorously, refusing to let Wonwoo bear the burden alone. "No, hyung," he insisted, his own anguish evident in his voice.
"If only I had intervened at her wedding, if only I had stopped everything, she would still be with us! She wouldn't—" Wonwoo's words dissolved into sobs, his pain too raw to articulate.
Mingyu nodded in solemn agreement, his own grief consuming him. "Me too, hyung," he confessed, his voice thick with sorrow.
"If only I could turn back time, I would stop the wedding in a heartbeat."
If only...
The words hung heavy in the air, a bitter reminder of the irreversible tragedy that had befallen them all.
207 notes · View notes
readychilledwine · 6 months
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Kissed by Fire pt 1
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Summary - Amelia Archeron, the oldest of the made sisters, sacrificed more than her sisters would ever understand, and more than she would ever allow them to know. Now, they want her to sacrifice her one chance at happiness, too.
Warnings - rhysand is kind of a dick, signs of depression and PTSD, trauma, implied EDs, kind of poisoning
An - and we begin 💜
Part 2
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Rhysand tapped his fingers on the desk next to Amelia, his eyes narrowed as the oldest sister stared out the window.
She had been the last to wake up. She was withdrawn from them, constantly sat in the cushioned window ledge and wiping tears from her face.
He had expected more from Amelia. She was supposed to be a rock, a strong influence, yet here she was, mind lost in her grief, in her confusion, her longing for their father. “You need to get up,” he commanded. “You need to stand on your feet and be strong for your sisters. They need you.”
Amelia sighed deeply, that familiar weight of being the oldest pressing down on her shoulders once again.
It felt like carrying the weight of the world. It felt like being forced to sacrifice her own health and happiness for her sisters again.
It reminded her of nights spent in a brothel laid beneath some man she had no interest in for a small amount of coin. It reminded her of hiding the coins with Feyre's earnings so no one would ask questions or ask if she was okay.
“If my adult sisters are making the choice to hide in a room and refuse to eat, how exactly would me going and demanding that of them make a difference?”
Rhysand rolled his eyes, scoffing at the question. “You never cared for them while you all were starving in that cabin,” Amelia flinched at the accusation. “The least you could do is pretend to care now.” She looked away from him as the first night spent in the whorehouse, handing her virginity away to a complete stranger twice her age came forward.
She didn't see Rhysand's face fall, his eyes becoming sympathy as you stood. “Right. I forgot about Feyre's pretty story of how she kept our family afloat.” The true sentence should have been, “I forgot she didn't know,” yet Amelia stuck to her self defense. “I will try. Do not expect me to join you, though.”
Nesta, Elain, and Amelia ate in silence in Amelia's room. If you could call what the three of them did eating.
Nesta pushed the food around. Elain stared out the window. Amelia sat there, shivering despite being the closest to the fire and in heavy wool socks and a sweater provided by the House.
She could feel a chill deep inside of her. Like the Cauldron had left a reminder deep inside of her of what happened. “Have you two been cold since-” she couldnt even finish the sentence, but she didn't need to.
Elain shook her head softly. “No, just. Lost.”
Nesta also shook her head before smiling sadly. “Have you tried to bathe yet?” Amelia paled at the idea. She had several times. Hoping the hot water would melt the ice settling in her veins and bones. “I had the same reaction,” Nesta sad softly.
Elain also nodded, tears streaming down her face, “It's like bathing takes me right back there. I cam feel it burning my skin all over again from how cold it was, I feel myself struggling to breathe, i-” Amelia silenced her younger sister with a hand on hers.
“Don't, little tulip. Don't talk about it unless you're ready to.” Elain leaned into her, closing her eyes as Amelia ran her fingers through her soft hair. “I'm sorry I can't fix this.”
Nesta smiled for the first time in a week. “You aren't a miracle worker, Lia. We don't expect you to fix it.”
Amelia's dreams that night had her transporting to a cabin. It was warm with a soft fire crackling in the background as she looked around. She could hear the voices of two males in another room. One was deep and smooth, although somewhat sarcastic as he spoke to a deep familiar voice. Shadows trailed through Amelia's fingers and the voices stopped. A door opening and footsteps coming towards her.
Amelia shot awake, her eyes adjusting to the darkness to a figure sitting on her bed. Rhysand had his hands holding his nose, his eyes glazed over slightly. “Do you know where you just were?” She shook her head, take a few deep breaths and then the tea he offered her. “I need you to drink that. You followed Azriel on a mission. In your sleep.”
He looked up sighing heavily. “You didn't fully transport your body there. Just your soul and mind. I need you to drink that so you don't do it again.”
Amelia sniffed it, eyes watering at how bitter it smelled. “What is it?”
Rhys looked at her, eyes cold as he distanced himself from what he was asking her to do. “It's faebane. It'll put whatever the fuck the Cauldron did to you to sleep.”
Rhys laid Amelia down, having watched her finish the cup and fall into a drug induced sleep. He sensed Azriel landing at the house and waited.
The Spymaster pushed Amelia's balcony doors open, looking between her and Rhysand. “How? That cabin is heavily warded to protect-”
Rhys held a hand up. “Amren is looking into it. Until we have an answer, we keep her on a low dose faebane to keep her powers locked down and quiet.”
Azriel looked at him, slightly shocked. “So poison her instead of helping her control it? Rhys, we know better than this. Her powers will eat her alive.”
“We will figure it out before than, Azriel.” Rhys looked at Amelia, watching as she shivered. “Did he have any ideas for helping her stay warm?”
Azriel nodded, pulling out a heavy sweater in a cream and another in burgundy, and then a soft fluffy pumpkin colored blanket. They reeked of cinnamon and apples, the fabric was unnaturally warm after having been enchanted. “He says we owe him.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Of course we do. The snake doesn't do a single thing unless it benefits him.” he took the blanket, thanking Azriel softly before tucking Amelia in and listening as she released a soft content sigh. She snuggled deeply into her new blanket, shivering stopping almost immediately. “Did he say what he wants?” Rhys moved her hair out of her face. Guilt eating him alive as he saw how peaceful she looked in this forced state.
“He'll call us when he's ready.”
Taglist : @justdreamstars @coralseacourt @kemillyfreitas @impossibelle
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mysteryshoptls · 2 months
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Twisted Entertainment News ~April Fools 2024~
The Aniplex Youtube Channel dropped a parody news segment for April Fools Day, which had Kazuki Furuta (Kalim) and Kaname Futaba (Jamil) as "commentators." A full official MMD clip of Absolutely Beautiful was shown, and afterwards, Furuta and Futaba "taught" the viewers back home how to do the dance. I don't normally do transcriptions of videos, but this one made me laugh with enjoyment that I wanted to make sure that everyone else could enjoy it too, especially since I know this video is region-locked. I've highlighted Furuta and Futaba's names with the colors for Kalim and Jamil's that I usually use for their vignettes. I've also added small commentary on their movements and expressions, which is not something I normally have to do for vignettes. I also only translated the "news" portion of the video and left out the final part, which was them returning to reality and talking about the monitors in the in-game shop that could be bought for the Guest Room. I hope this transcription is enjoyable for everyone else, too! Please check it out under the cut!
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Newscaster Yasuda: Good evening to Twisted Wonderland and to all those who have found themselves transported here. It’s time for Twisted Entertainment News, where we report on all the hottest entertainment topics. I have with me today two very well-known commentators who have appeared on so many of the variety talk shows as of late: Kazuki Furuta-san and Kaname Futaba-san.
Commentator Kazuki Furuta: Good evening, I’m Kazuki Furuta. I’m beyond honored to have been asked to come on this show as a commentator. Thank you very much for inviting me.
Commentator Kaname Futaba: Good evening, I’m Kaname Futaba. You know, I really dig Twisted Entertainment News.
Furuta: I do hear you say that often.
Futaba: Yeah. I watch it every week, and even record it.
Furuta: Indeed.
Futaba: I’m really hoping we’ll have a ton of great things to talk about. Thanks for having me.
Yasuda: Well, let’s get right into today’s entertainment news. First, Magical Motors is finally venturing into space. Second, are the rumors that the Mysterious Amusement Park is closing true!? And finally, the Absolute Dance is the current breakout trend. Of these three topics, the Absolute Dance is probably the most eye-catching, so, Furuta-san, Futaba-san, have you heard of this dance before?
Furuta: Very much so. It is very popular even in my circles, so not a day goes by that I do not come across it.
Futaba: I’ve known about it for some time now, too. So, I guess it feels like the times have finally caught up.
Furuta: You’re so right.
Futaba: Yeah.
Yasuda: Now then, we’ve prepared a video to show what exactly this dance is all about. Please take a look.
[Absolutely Beautiful Official Dance MMD plays while Yasuda, Furuta, and Futaba are shown in the top right corner, watching]
[clip ends, Yasuda, Furuta, and Futaba applaud politely]
Furuta: How amazing was that?
Futaba: Yeah, a great clip.
Furuta: Indeed.
Yasuda: So, this “Absolute Dance” originally comes from the dance movements of the song “Absolutely Beautiful.” It seems that thanks to the performance by Night Raven College stu-
Furuta: [interrupting] Night Raven College!
Yasuda: …Right. The students performed this song and dance at the school’s cultural festival and this garnered a lot of hype.
Furuta: [jumping in] Hype!
Yasuda: …Right. I do believe that this is a rather complicated dance that cannot be mastered just from watching it once. So, today I hoped to have our commentators, Furuta-san and Futaba-san, to show those of you watching this show at home how to perform it so that everyone can dance along.
Futaba: I see.
Furuta: Of course.
Yasuda: Furuta-san, I’ve heard that you may be a commentator, but you are also a very good dancer.
Furuta: [sounding like he wants to protest politely but is also smug at the praise] Ah, well― that is― by myself, I― [background music cuts] Yes, I am!
Yasuda: Right, thank you. And so, I was hoping we could receive an instructional demonstration from you on how this dance is performed.
Furuta: [politely but smugly trying to refute] Ah, that― Heh― Of course.
Yasuda: Wonderful, we would be so grateful.
Furuta: Of course! Now, I’ve chosen 4 specific points of the song to dance to in order to help anyone master the Absolute Dance. Those of you watching, please feel free to dance along!
[screen transitions to Furuta standing in front of the desk, with Futaba and Yasuda sitting and watching]
Furuta: Now for the first dance point: I’ll start with the opening dance for the song.
[Furuta dances Vil's movements from the chorus at the beginning of the song while Futaba's eyes widen as he watches intently]
[dance ends]
Futaba: Just hold on a sec. That’s so amazing?! I’m so shocked. Like, especially the third part of the second-eighths was really good.
Furuta: The third part of the second-eighths, you mean this movement, yes? [shows off the specific dance move again]
Futaba: It’s fantastic! And this dance looks like it moves your entire body, so I bet it’s really good for your health, too.
Furuta: Oh yes, especially that movement. It uses the whole shoulder joint so I believe it could be good for relieving any stiffness in the shoulder.
Futaba: This is spectacular.
Furuta: Thank you very much.
Futaba: Man…
Furuta: Now then, I think it’s time to move onto the second part.
Futaba: [quietly, to himself] That was shocking.
Furuta: The second dance point:
Futaba: [quietly, to himself] I’m so shocked.
Furuta: Jamil’s― [turns to address Futaba] Oh, was it shocking?
Futaba: Yeah, totally shocking. Sorry.
Furuta: I’m so glad to hear that. [turns back to the camera] I'll now dance the part with Jamil’s rap.
Futaba: [quietly, to himself] Really shocking.
[Music begins to lead into Jamil's rap, Furuta prepares himself to start dancing]
Futaba: [quietly, to himself] Man, I’m still reeling from that shocker.
[Furuta starts by dancing Ace/Deuce's movements while Futaba stares in awe]
Futaba: No way...
[Furuta continues by dancing Kalim/Rook's movements while Futaba continues watching him in awe]
[dance ends]
Futaba: This part… I mean, your dance was just astounding, don’t get me wrong. But… this voice rapping just now… I really like this voice!
Furuta: [turns to address Futaba] It’s a very familiar voice, isn’t it?
Futaba: Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Furuta: [turns back to the camera] Almost like it feels really close to me, that’s right.
Futaba: It’s just so smooth.
Furuta: Smoothly, yes, the lyrics just come so smoothly.
Futaba: So smoothly.
Furuta: Yes, it just enters my mind so smoothly.
Futaba: It really gets me hyped.
Furuta: Just from the first sound, it just― [Furuta starts dancing] I can just flow with the music.
Futaba: Yeah, this’ll just get your body dancing on its own. Amazing.
Furuta: [turns to address Futaba] Would you like to dance up here together?
Futaba: [background music cuts] Ah, no, I’m good.
Furuta: [turns back to the camera] It seems he’s good, so I’ll move on to the third dancing point: The solo dances by each student during the song’s interlude. And for this― [a little out of breath] for this…
Futaba: Uh-huh.
Furuta: Well, for this part, I will be dancing Kalim’s portion.
Futaba: You’re breathing a bit hard, you good?
Furuta: [turns to address Futaba] Oh, I’m fine.
Futaba: You sure?
Furuta: [turns back to the camera] I’m not tired whatsoever. I am very used to dancing, after all.
Futaba: Then please, go on.
Furuta: Of course.
[Furuta begins dancing Kalim's movements during the interlude while Futaba keeps gazing intently]
[dance ends]
Futaba: No way, that’s so aggressive! Woaaah, this part feels like the most aggressive of the whole set!
Furuta: [turns to address Futaba] How about it, Futaba-san, would you like to dance this aggressive part with me?
Futaba: [background music cuts] Ah, no, I’m good.
Furuta: [addresses Yasuda] Yasuda-san, would you like to dance with me?
Yasuda: No, thank you.
Furuta: [turns back to the camera] Alright then, moving on! Time for the fourth and final dance point: I’ll dance from the song's hook to the end!
[Furuta dances Kalim/Ace's movements for the end of the song while Futaba looks on in amazement and awe]
[dancing ends, Futaba starts a slow clap, picks up speed, then stands up]
Futaba: EXCELLENT! PERFECT! BEAUTIFUL! Futaba-kun, you’re amazing! You’re an absolute genius!
Furuta: [turns to address Futaba] Thank you very much. Shall we share a dance together?
Futaba: [background music cuts] Ah, no, I’m good. [sits back down]
Furuta: [turns back to the camera] It seems he’s good, so for everyone else, I hope you were able to learn how to dance this song. After all the energy and effort I put into this instructional demonstration, there’s no way you can’t dance it now, I’m sure.
Futaba: Absolutely. Thank you for the dance lecture, Furuta-san.
Furuta: [turns to address Futaba] Futaba-san, I do hope you’ll dance with me on the next occasion.
Futaba: [background music cuts] Ah, no, I’m good.
Furuta: [turns back to the camera] It seems he’s good.
Fin
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lookinghalfacorpse · 8 months
Text
pandora's vault as a point-and-click horror game.
the objective is always at the top of your screen: "get the revival book." you can access a map that will take you to a few different places on the server, but once you click on the prison, the map icon only appears when you're near the entrance. when you get further in, you're trapped.
you can go to the arctic. philza is there, always peaceful and always sewing, sitting on a nice rocking chair. you can present items to him and he'll give you some clues about how to use it. you have a hunger bar, and if you're low, you can get food from him. technoblade is in the background, cooking. you can't interact with him.
you can stop by some other places too, like mcpuffys, and get a burger if you gather enough gold to buy it.
wandering the prison is confusing. it's a maze, and the more you click, the more the prison shifts. interact with too many items that make a lot of noise and you'll upset sam, and he'll kill you quickly. the warden walks in a pre-determined circle around the prison, and you can't interrupt him unless you have an item that interests him. following him is your best bet to navigate the prison, but he's hard to track. you have to learn his pattern.
take too long, and the prison shifts faster. doors close on their own.
you can summon technoblade once to save you from sam. he'll buy you time and de-aggro sam, but then he disappears, and you'll see him in the background with philza again when you tp there.
make too many mistakes, and you'll be transported to the main cell.
dream is there, starved and thin. he's curled into himself. hover your cursor over him and he'll kill you-- he doesn't want to be seen.
you have to be patient. keep your cursor on the wall. wait. eventually, dream says "...what do you want?" and a dialogue options shows up. he'll chat, but he won't give up the revival book. you click everywhere. you find no way out. new objective: "get out alive."
there are different items you can collect on your way to the cell that will affect your chances. you can gather food from chests you find, but you should preserve them and give some to dream to get on his good side. if you present shears, he'll kill you, no matter how good you're doing with him. you can collect status effects, and if you get "sir," he'll obey faster. but he's never particularly helpful.
the screen flashes into images of blood and gore across the cell.
try to kill dream, and sam stops you. you hear dream sigh.
really, the key is endurance. you have to make sure you have enough resources when you enter the cell to stay on dream's good side and survive until sam decides to let you out. a bit of experimentation.
or, if you make it to the main cell without sam putting you there, you can get out at will. but that's very difficult, and you won't achieve that your first run, but the status effects help. you'll gather more of those as you play. with "sir," sam gets less agitated with you.
get dream's favor, and you get a new objective: "get both of us out alive"
there's an item called "hope"-- a stuffed cat. if you present it to philza, he'll say "…someone else could use this more, mate. you shouldn't leave it here with me."
get back to the main cell.
What do you want to do with "Hope"?
>>Give to Dream Destroy Nothing
if you give it to him, big tears will roll down his face-- an animation you've never seen before. he'll give you a piece of his bloody shirt in exchange.
take the bloody shirt to philza, and technoblade will move from the background. there's an animation where he rushes out the door, and philza follows him. that's the good end. objective complete.
you can also keep with the first objective, if you want. you can go in every day, if you want. you can gather weapons and shears and experiment with how dream responds, if you want. perhaps, somewhere in the code, there's a way for you to get that book. maybe THAT'S your good end.
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