#Now forward this one too to the people I blocked. Suit yourself!
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ilminnestrone · 2 months ago
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Let me get this straight, since you all seem to love vague posting so much. This is what I learned from this fandom so far:
You treat a stranger who was agreeing with you like shit and keep on vague posting about anyone who barely crossed you but when said people block you is somehow someone else's fault who has been harrassing you.
This person is so fucking powerful that have the magical ability to harrass you even if they don't interact with you and they don't talk about you for almost three years, but when you constantly post and talk about them you're just stating facts.
If you agree with someone about someone being unpleasant, they clearly manipulated you.
If you block someone who openly lied to you about being friends with someone who treated you like shit and about telling they hate your friends publicly, they are entitled to:
vague post about you;
let people call you names;
misgender you;
trying to get back to you via mutuals;
use neurodivergence as an excuse even if you are autistic;
block you when you say you will think about it.
People who don't know anything about your reasons are entitled to intercede for people you blocked because they personally don't have a problem with them (good for you!).
When you say someone that you blocked a person and their closer friends because you don't want anything to do with them and be completely invisible for them, they will know what you told to said someone word by word no more than 8 hours later. And they're gonna vague post about you.
I have no fucking problem being the "bad guy" here. Are you all okay with being 14-year-olds (with all due respect for 14-year-olds)?
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 29 days ago
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“You don’t know how to read? Then I will tutor you.” Rollo tells Gidel. “First shall we review your alphabet?” He stacks wooden alphabet blocks one by one and recites. “A is for Abomination, B is forBlasphemy, C is for Contrition, D is for Damnation, E is for Eternal Damnation, F is for…”
So tell me, do you wanna go?
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“Gidel, c’mere!” Fellow hissed. He grabbed the young child by the arm and dragged him up and away from the desk with the growing row of wooden blocks. Gidel stumbled behind Fellow, who now directed a glare at the cross-legged boy behind that desk. “And you! Don’t go using your… your big, fancy words like that, you’re going to confuse him!”
Rollo grimaced as he slowly rose from his seat. “I was providing the child with a proper education, as it seems he is sorely lacking one while under your guardianship.”
A memory like a burning hot coal pressed against the inside of Fellow's head. There he was in glasses, crouched by the ground, Gidel beside him with a salvaged notepad and pencil in his sleeves. Letters were scrawled in the dirt, recreated the best he could manage.
"O is for Orange. It looks round like O does. I is for Ice-cream. That ice pop we had the other day was good, right? Tall and thin too, like this letter. And L is for Laugh... cuz lookin' at it like this, it's a smile.
"... Why is L the only one that's not a food? Cuz I wouldn't think of anything else. There's only so much I can teach you,Giddie."
If only I had gone to school, then I would've been able to teach you so much more. If only I...!
His anger spiked, and he tightened the grip on his fox-tipped cane. Pride, hurt. Fellow bared his teeth, eyes flashing dangerously. “What’d you just say?! You oughta not pick fights with adults."
"I am doing no such thing. I am merely stating the facts. It is of no concern to me that you should lose control of yourself over this." Rollo pressed a handkerchief to his nose. "... Your temperance is lacking as well."
"You're REALLY grindin' my gears! Who died and gave you the right to have an ego as massive as your forehead, eh?!”
“Mocking my appearance now, are we?” The sarcasm in Rollo’s voice was palpable. “How… mature.”
“For your information, I’m plenty mature!!”
“I would beg to differ. I know community goats that are better behaved than you.”
Gidel worried glanced between the two. The air between them was becoming increasingly heavy and charged. The wooden blocks, forgotten on the desk. He had been so looking forward to learning.
And so had Fellow, he knew.
A lightbulb went off in Gidel’s head.
The young boy put himself between the dup and, latching onto, Rollo’s robes and Fellow’s jackey, Gidel tugged. They both paused mid-argument and glanced down at him.
“…!!”
Gidel stared at them pleadingly. With all of the strength his tiny body could muster, he tried to drag the two toward the desk where the alphabet blocks awaited. Then Gidel glopped back onto his chair and slapped a hand on the F cube, the other hand gesturing at Fellow.
“What’s this? You wish to resume the lesson?” Rollo smirked triumphantly. “Well, then. It seems the child has made his final choice—and a fitting continuation. F is for the Fool beside me.”
“Oh, screw off!! Like you know Giddie better than I do!” Fellow jabbed Rollo in the middle of his (aforementioned massive) forehead. “He’s not sayin’ THAT. He’s sayin’ he wants me to be a part of the lesson too.”
“… Excuse me?” Rollo’s brows creased. “How could you possibly come to that conclusion?”
“I’m good at reading people. That’s one life skill your shiny schools can’t teach ya in the classroom!” Fellow grinned broadly. “So the decision’s settled! I’ll be a teacher too.”
“One moment,” Rollo protested. “Why do you presume you will be an instructor? Someone at your current level would be better suited to being a student.”
“Cuz you might put weird words in his head!! Someone’s gotta keep you in check.” Fellow tapped the F block with a finger. “Like this! F is for… Fun!”
Rollo looked appalled. (Gidel, excited.) “Fun?!”
“Fun,” Fellow repeated, “because if you lay F down, it looks like a big brother and a little brother walking together on a road—and life is F-un when it’s U N me, Giddie!”
“You must be joking,” Rollo scoffed. “A flimsy pneumonic device like that will never prove effective.”
“And G is for Grumpy, which is the face our new friend making! See how he’s frowning like the top curve of the letter? Then follow it down and in, pretending it’s his puckering chin 🎵”
“!!” Gidel faithfully nodded, oblivious to the discontent of his other teacher.
“Grumpy, me…? Surely not,” Rollo murmured to himself. He squinted hard at Gidel, searching for signs of foul play or deceit.
But still, the boy seems unusually… happy. Is he actually enjoying this juvenile lecture? I do not understand.
The longer he watched, the more discomfort knotted in his chest. There was something unnerving to the smiles and laughs Fellow and Gidel shared. An older brother and a younger one, having fun together…
“Look what I can do, nii-san!”
Sadness washed over him, along with a solemn silence.
Rollo’s eyes drifted shut. He had known it, had feared the parallels creeping up on him.
If only you could be here with me.
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aangelinakii · 1 month ago
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PUCKER UP!
— kiss-blocked by the bat.
summary : you're a vigilante who works with the red robin from time to time. it's getting difficult to hide your feelings.
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anybody could tell by the way tim looked at you that he was way in over his head, neck-deep in crush for you.
it had only been a few months since you started running with batman and his family, a newly-blossomed vigilante yourself. it wasn't easy at all, difficult to juggle your schoolwork and life with it, but learning from the best definitely helped.
tim drake — red robin — was one of those people. despite batman's advice not to, he revealed his true identity after your mask slipped down your face. he was selfless like that, unafraid of the risk that could follow.
he was a good judge of character, just knew you wouldn't use the knowledge to your advantage.
and so, with this new, more humane view of each other, you and tim became friends. hanging out after you finished school (because he dropped out, so has to find his enrichment in other ways), helping you with homework, training with you in the batcave.
developing a close friendship with someone like you? well, it was difficult to not fall.
tonight's patrol was going swimmingly — in your eyes, that meant little to no crime to have to control at all.
lit by the vast yellow moon overhead, your legs dangled over the edge of the rooftop you and tim sat on, laughing and sharing jokes and stories. it was easy to forget you had an ear piece connecting you to the entirety of batman's vein of side-kicks (or whatever they liked to be called now; associates? hell, one of them is his blood-born son!)
a laugh vibrated within your chest, and you peered over at tim to see his reaction to the quip you'd made, finding a soft smile on his lips.
"can't believe you actually said that to him," he hummed, the phantom of a laugh upon his tongue.
you'd forgotten to look away, too enthralled by that soft slope of his nose bridge, and the way he can make a smile so boyish and charming; and the way only you know about those pale blue eyes, which fill with warmth when they look at you. they only do that because he enjoys the conversation, right?
and suddenly you registered he was looking right back at you, smile lingering at the corner of his mouth, a tiny dimple stamped just below the left corner.
"you're something special."
the way he said those words caused your heart to swell, your smile to pinch affectionately at your cheeks, your fingers to scrunch into the fabric of your suit.
even though he meant them platonically, you couldn't help your romantic feelings from twisting the way they repeated in your head.
with a humble shake of your head, you let out a bashful chuckle. "no, no, i just.. thought it was funny. not special." those words were what made you look away, suddenly shy under tim's gaze, hidden behind a mask.
"no, i'm serious." tim's tone was uplifting, genuine. not shameful or purposely embarrassing. and you glanced back at him, feeling your cheeks warm from behind your own mask, and within the shadows of gotham city.
despite the roughness of his gloves, the touch of the pads of his fingers upon your jaw was soft, and you had to physically restrain yourself from sinking into it. with a careful touch, he turned your head to look back up at him.
when your eyes met his behind the mask, you felt inclined to shrink back into yourself again, but then he spoke.
"you're great, i..." he began, touch faltering, and he began to pull away. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that. you're just.. cool. every time we go on patrol, i'm looking forward to your stories."
"no, it's fine!" you hummed in return, mouth moving fast before your brain could take control, and you reached out for him, already missing his touch, fingers looping with his fleeting. "i didn't find it weird. promise."
tim's eyes flickered down to where you'd grasped his hand. for a moment, you were worried that surprised expression on his face was one of horror, but soon his shoulders deflated and his gloved fingers felt tighter along your knuckles, a gaped mouth closing to a smile — if not even a little shy.
a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, and you found yourself shuffling along the roof, closer. tim brought his other hand to clasp over the top of yours.
warmth spreading from your chest to your bones, you smiled up at him once again, sort of giddy. perhaps you weren't too well-adversed in the dating pool, but you were hoping this meant those feelings of yours weren't as unrequited as you'd originally thought.
and he began to lean in.
sparks erupted within your bloodstream, despite not even coming in contact yet, but, god, were you ready.
a crackle chirped within your ears, and both your frames jumped in surprise. so much so, that when you flinched, your forehead clashed with tim's, the closeness coming in at a disadvantage.
with a hiss, you moved back, hand coming to that spot on your forehead, just as batman's deep voice sounded.
"red robin, (name). how are things looking in your area?"
pink patch growing upon his forehead, tim's cheeks tickled pink, too, and he scrambled to press his finger to the receiver in his ear. "uh– yeah. all good here, bats."
the line went silent for a moment, just as it had been the whole time, before the bat spoke again.
"good to know. by the way, robin, i thought i taught you better than to flirt like that."
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thatnimrodmusician · 6 months ago
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imagine being lewis. being BEST FRIENDS with someone and then having people say "lewis never loves (nico) more than when he's one step below him on the podium" like ID THROW HANDS???? and then having your friendship ruined because you love each other more than everything on earth except maybe winning. and then you, knowing that your friendship is practically irreparable, stand there and watch as your best friend achieves his lifelong dream of becoming a worldchampion and then he retires for good. and now every time someone brings him up, you have to collect yourself for a bit before answering and you avoid his name as if simply saying his name will draw up too many memories, some good, some bad, all painful now.
and then 3 years after his retirement, you're chasing him down with a bottle of champagne because maybe in your mind you aren't what you used to be anymore, but it doesn't matter because in this moment, you have a bottle of champagne, you're in your all-white suit and your body automatically chases him to spray him with champagne just like you used to do in the past.
and then fast forward 5 years later you live in the same apartment block and bring his daughter presents and he's trying to be your friend again but there's too much bad blood and miscommunication for you to both go through and you're so close but so far away because you live in the same building but you'll never give him the time of day and he's just become a part of your golden past and no one will ever measure up to what you had with him.
if i was lewis i probably would never be able to function normally again.
(sorry i think about brocedes a lot, this isn't just a charles fan acc)
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dottiro · 2 months ago
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Power Struggle
Unreliable summary: Pantalone is a Svengali figure. He dominates reader's life in the most backhanded and subtle ways without trying to be subtle. // Pantalone consumes everything he touches; he is a black hole with no affection but only the need for possession. Warnings: Yandere, unhealthy relationships, power abuse, toxicity, manipulation Note: We're breaking free from the rewrites with this one >:3
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Business is profitable for any banker in the current season. Every year, a few days after New Year's celebrations, people can’t resist the urge to take loans and make uncalculated decisions to achieve the goals they have set for the year. 
For as long as you have known Pantalone, he’s been unavailable until the season of new debtors passes,
—every year, except this one. 
Despite being overworked and underslept, tonight, he has decided to make time for you.
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Pantalone’s voice is less sharp than usual. It’s the only way you can pick up on his exhaustion. Otherwise, his outfit is as clean as his calm expression is; a neverending masquerade where he hides his real thoughts and self. 
Yet, despite his exhaustion, he talks as if he hadn’t been able to in weeks. And because Pantalone tends to monologue, you naturally take on the role of dutiful listener. 
“I’ve mentioned this in our last meeting, but there is an upcoming party. One that promises to be quite bothersome. I wish I could take you for it’d bring me a sliver of joy, alas, bringing a commoner would be an insult. Not that I’d think that. You do know I adore you, right? Either way, you wouldn’t be interested in coming. Politics don’t suit you. You’re too meek.”
The words fly past his teeth without any guard. Part of you takes offence, yet another part can’t be bothered to care. 
Today, it’s much easier to let everything drift by. The promise of the clouds in the air and the lingering freedom they bring guide you towards a new future. Your eyes drift lower out of the window. Many tall and imposing buildings flash by as the car drives forward. Those, too, are but a nuisance. 
You wonder…
Will Pantalone accept your choices when you share them tonight? 
He has always been peculiar and too specific with how he prefers things. 
Would he judge your future? 
In the background, you hear more words escape his lips. You enjoy the sound of it. 
Pantalone’s voice has always been soft. He despises it, but you like how it lingers over your thoughts and blocks out your worries. 
It’s a reminder of his presence and how he keeps you close to him—grounded.
“—one of the maids working in my mansion seemed to take offence when I arrived at my own home unannounced. People truly are despicable. No matter how many chances you give them, they can’t help but disappoint.”
More words, yet the meaning behind them gets lost the more he talks. 
Normally you’d listen closer, forcing yourself to stay close to his thoughts. 
Right now, you’re unable to blame your distraction on the long words he uses. 
Today, something bigger has consumed your mind.
“Y/n?” 
Pantalone calls out to you. 
Only after he calls out your name you notice that the car has stopped at his chosen destination. Quickly, you glance through the dark-tinted window separating the car from the outside world. You catch grand doors under a lit-up sign; ‘Northland’s Delight’.
How did you miss your arrival? 
‘Northland’s Delight’... 
—why does the name spark familiarity?
Despite you being the one who had not-so-subtly dropped hints about wanting to meet up with him, Pantalone took the initiative to pick a date, time, and place to meet, and perhaps that’s where recognition falls. Surely he’s mentioned the name somewhere in your prior conversations. You likely forgot about it.
As sudden as your arrival had been, Pantalone appears in your vision, blocking the sight of the restaurant from your eyes. Instinctively your hand reaches for the seat next to you, only to find it empty. 
You frown. He’s not there.
Are you really that out of it?
Dazed, you stare as Pantalone opens the door for you, something he insists on doing whenever you ride with him. A smile is on his face when he looks down at your sitting form. You notice how his figure casts a shadow over you and consumes your entire line of sight.
“You are preoccupied today.” Pantalone doesn’t sound angry, but his words make you feel nervous. You crane your neck upwards, hoping to catch a glimpse of his expression and thoughts. “Am I supposed to be offended?”
His hand outstretches in front of you. Without a second of delay, you reach for the grasp of his cold leather gloves. 
You’ll have to mind your daydreaming from this point forward. It’d be rude of you to be distracted when he had cleared his busy schedule in favour of you. 
“I’m sorry. It isn’t my intention to be distracted. Honestly, I am more excited for tonight than you could be.” 
There is a small interruption between your sentences as he brings you up on your feet and out of the car. 
“I didn’t expect that you’d take time off for me. I knew you would be busy and I didn’t want to cause you trouble,” you admit, though, your nerves are only partially to blame on him clearing his schedule for something less important—like yourself. 
His eyes linger on your figure as he smiles wider. “An evening spent with you is an investment worth making. Though, I hope you’ll make it worth my time.”
His voice is laced with enough joy to make it sound like a tease. In the end, you can’t fight the smile forming on your face as his thumb caresses the top of your palm.
Feeling more at ease, you move to link your arm with his non-dominant one, knowing he’d shake you off if you tried to go for the other side. 
Pantalone has always been a touchy man, even when you first met him. If your arm wasn’t around his, he’d put his hand on the small of your back or your shoulder. It seemed like he preferred to be as close as possible, never letting you escape his presence.
And while you hadn’t seen him around other people, you assumed it had to be a habit of his. 
Over time, you shrugged the action off as noble formalities and offered your arm without him needing to ask.
Pantalone tugs you closer with his arm. By his side, you smell the rich perfume he’d put on. His other hand moves to your arm, gently patting it as he leads you forward. 
When you walk up the stairs leading to Northland’s Delight, you notice two bulky men standing on either side of the grand doors. By the time you’ve reached the small staircase leading up to the entrance, they’ve moved to open them, inviting you into the warm interior of the luxurious place. 
You can’t help your visible awe as you take in the entrance hall of Northland’s Delight.
The first thing your mind catches is the almost overwhelming grandeur of the interior. The entrance hall is expansive. Broad, high ceilings adorned with exquisite chandeliers cast a warm and inviting glow throughout the room and decorate the reflective floor with shimmers from their crystals.
Your eyes dart over to the walls, which are decorated with wallpapers complimenting the royal theme of the restaurant. As you look closer, you notice their intricate designs drawn with subtle colours. Small curls and elegant shapes move from the ground to the nooks and crannies, filling the entire space with luxury.
As your feet step on top of the red carpet that drags into another room, you see yet another space—one more grand than the current. 
With only a glance, you can captivate its carefully arranged seating; noticing that it must be the main dining room. Further, thick velvet curtains create a sense of privacy for the patrons within the room. Another chandelier hangs above the people, and each table is decorated with plates that resemble art rather than food.
You feel out of place amidst everything, but this certainly is a place Pantalone would dine at.
Distracted by the luxury, you only notice the woman who has approached you when she pulls out a standard greeting. Dressed in deep reds, golds, and browns—similar to the interior—the hostess of tonight introduces herself to Pantalone. 
While the ‘good evening’ and ‘I hope your travels were safe and without trouble’ passes, your thick winter coats are taken by other personnel. 
Through it all, you continue to hold Pantalone’s arm.
Between all the things overwhelming you, you realise that the hostess had addressed your company as if she recognised him. You silently note that Pantalone must come here often on business dinners, too. 
“We reserved your usual seat, my Lord.” The woman informs him. 
Pantalone doesn’t do more beyond nodding his head subtly.
“Please follow me, my Lord.” The hostess takes a short bow before she leads the two of you out of the entrance hall and into the main scene.
Being led deeper into the building, previous distant conversations become clear. As you move in closer, your eyes instinctively move closer to the rich joy of the others.
From what you can see, tables are spread wide and far enough to grant each patron a feeling of seclusion yet a sense of fullness and intimacy from the decor that fills the empty spaces. From every side, laughter chimes like a song and an irresistible warmth hangs over the room. 
You are certain; this is a place for get-togethers, somewhere no business is dealt—safe for the exchange of smiles. 
Here, lovers from rich families are able to retreat. They can enjoy themselves from the prying eyes of the public or their families. 
Not a single person looks out of place.
As you come close, the hostess suddenly changes enroute, instead heading to the stairs. 
You are led to the first floor, and almost instantly as you step up, the atmosphere changes.
A part of you should’ve known today wouldn’t be the day where Pantalone would mingle with others. He is paranoid to the point where he believes any person is out for his demise. 
With this, you guess that he must’ve hired a private room for tonight. 
By the time you reach the top of the stairs, the laughter has become a background noise again. Then, it takes a few more steps before you arrive at tonight’s dining room, which is basically a large closed-off room with a single table in the middle.
You watch the candle that’s been lit and placed on top of the round table. It is the only source of warmth, much unlike the space below you.
Pantalone pulls one of the chairs back and helps you get settled into the lush, upholstered seating before he pulls out the other chair for himself. 
When you’re both ready, the hostess has been replaced by a common waiter and Pantalone awakens the evening by ordering a bottle of his favourite wine—something that’s become a routine. Always insisting on pouring your glass without consent or questions.
In repressed silence, you let him.
“How was your day, darling?” Pantalone’s voice is relaxed. Unlike before in the car, he is now fully alone with you. Thus, he feels some sense of safety in exposing the barest of his vulnerability. 
Crossing one leg over another while straightening your back, you ineptly mirror his relaxed but undoubtedly composed (if not perfect) posture. 
You lower your head. 
Truth be told, you’ll always feel out of place in these affluent settings. 
Growing up in the middle-to-low class has made you feel guilty whenever Pantalone brings you luxurious places. You know that you can never repay him, but you also know that if you were to share your discomfort he wouldn’t bend. 
Pantalone would never lower himself to anything but opulence, so he forces you to become one with him instead. He lifts you up in status, merging you into his ideals as he takes you wherever he wishes to go.
Your lips find the rim of the wine glass and you take a sip as you try to relax your nerves.
When you set it down on the table again, you look up at Pantalone, who is already looking at you, waiting for an answer. 
A slight flush forms on your cheekbones under the weight of his golden gaze. 
“It’s been nearly two months since I’ve last seen you. I know you’ve been busy, and you still are, but I have something important I’ve been working on too. Ever since the moment you told me about tonight’s plans, I’ve been excited to share them. But, perhaps, a bit nervous too.”
While a smile forms on your face, Pantalone’s dips. It is for only a second, but you swear you saw his lips part and the uncertain furrowing of his eyebrows. 
He sits up straighter, uncertain in only the seconds before he speaks. 
“Hmm. It is nearly impossible for someone to bring me something I don't already possess. You almost make me curious for this ‘exciting news’.”
Is he mocking you? 
You blame it on ignorance.
“I would hope so. Though…” You fiddle with the lace ends of the cloth that spread over the table. 
In case your news is unwelcome, you’d like to delay the moment for as long as possible. If it goes well, you can ask him to stay, if not, you can simply leave by the end of the night. 
“—is it alright if I tell you at the end of dinner?” 
The way your voice came up at the end of your sentence made it sound as if you unconsciously sought approval. It had made it seem like a question when you had already made up your mind. 
Lucky for you, Pantalone doesn't seem particularly bothered by what you had to tell.
“Of course, my dear.”
His smile is back on his face and he falls back to his act of casualty, being quick to brush you off as he resumes his monologue.
And as the night continues, the space you occupy becomes smaller. 
The previous distance and coldness in the room are filled by his endless chatter, being further accompanied by gentle touches as he compels to invade your space. His actions make any stretch between you null. 
Soon, hours have passed, and before you know it, Pantalone has ordered dessert. One for you, none for him. A treat, or so he’d say.
You attempt to ease into the topic you want to talk about. 
“Pantalone,” you hesitate.
With a slight delay, he answers your call with a casual tilt of his head as he intertwines his hands in front of his chest. 
“Remember when we first met?”
A chuckle escapes his lips. “I recall correctly, you were but a freshly graduated student with more debt than one could pay off in a lifetime. More importantly, you were serving me in a restaurant similar to this. Your uniform was always stained from your hard work.”
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You make a bow, as is customary before introducing yourself. 
Tonight’s patrons are ‘VIPs amongst VIPs’—as had your boss mentioned before. Initially, you weren’t supposed to serve them. Your task was menial, greeting the people at the entrance hall and taking their cloaks. 
It was supposed to be that easy, but…
“Y/n…” The man with hair as dark as ink echoes your name. While you avoid staring as much as possible, you catch his eyes darting over your figure; from your face to your neck, down, and up again. 
He is gorgeous…
The man speaks again. His voice is gentle and smooth, yet he talks with authority and control—as if he owns the place and its people. “Are you serving any tables tonight?”
“No sir.”
“Delightful. Then, tonight, I’d like you to serve me.”
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It turns out he needs only a single word to change the entire plan for that evening. 
One word, and he changes everything. 
At first sight, Pantalone had taken a liking to you.
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“You graduated from one of the most respected universities in Snezhnaya, yet someone like you ends up in a restaurant. Truly a pity.”
“...”
“If and when the opportunity arises, would you be willing to change your predicament?”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“From what I see; you either take fate in your hands and bend it to your favour—taking every opportunity for yourself, or you stay in your current position—surviving, but never more than that.”
“I think anyone would want to take control of their fate.”
“In that case,” he gestures to the other end of his table in the private room. “Convince me to hire you.”
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Meeting him had changed your life. 
After graduating you fell into an impossible situation. While months passed of you applying anywhere and everywhere, you were unable to secure a job. Before you knew it, you got in trouble with debt collectors trying to collect what debt you had accumulated during your academic years. 
To keep your life from crumbling apart, you worked multiple low-wage jobs that you were overqualified for.
Then, during that fateful evening of you acting as his server, Pantalone had invited you to sit with him. He ate, and you promoted yourself and your qualities. Supposedly, he liked your polite attitude or unwavering patience for his endless questions, because by the end of that night, he offered a proposition. 
You could either continue to work multiple low-wage income jobs, or you could work for him.
As the night came to a close, and he outstretched his hand to you one final time, he had left with you by his side. 
You haven’t looked back since, and with all in consideration, it is a happy memory. Since that moment, things have gone uphill. Your debt has been cleared; you work a job you’re qualified for; life positively challenges you, and you still talk with Pantalone. 
Still. 
Why does it sound like he’s pulling you down when he recalls it? 
Shame settles in when you remember where you come from, then resolve seeps through as you realise he hadn’t forgotten either. Over the years you have proven yourself. 
Surly, him remembering where you came from must give you credit. 
You suppose… these dinners are one way of showing his affection to you, albeit it being a bit roundabout. 
Right?
Pantalone taps one of his intertwined fingers against the knuckle of the hand it rests on. His rings and the gemstones on them shine against the candlelight.
Again, you try to get to the point, “When you had asked me about my dreams that evening, I answered: ‘I want to see the world someday’. Back then, that seemed impossible. Without you, I wouldn’t have made it past the shabby part-time jobs and my run-down apartment—”
“You don’t need to thank me,” Pantalone’s nonchalant voice drips with ego and pride when he cuts you short. “I know you are appreciative.”
Your lips purse for a second and you fiddle with your fingers below the table. “That is not what I was trying to say.”
“So, you’re not?” He raises an eyebrow, either in offence or amusement. You’re not willing to guess. 
“I—…You know that is not what I meant. I am indebted to you, I know that.” 
Frustration bubbles up when you see a soft smile on his face. It makes your anger feel out of place, especially considering your meeting with him was supposed to be a good memory. 
The news you’re about to tell is supposed to be good news. 
Are you the one in the wrong?
Pantalone relaxes by leaning back into his chair. A gentle turn of his wrist urges you to continue, despite the mixed feelings in your chest.
You sigh,
“I have the opportunity to make my dreams come true and I wanted to tell you first. I’ve finally taken fate into my own hands. I am planning to leave for Snezhnaya.” 
The news falls flat. Your previous frustration at Pantalone seeming to disregard you.  has made your voice devoid of joy. Only a sense of letdown remains. 
Out of everyone, you felt most proud to share the news with the one who made you fight for your future. 
Your fingers hover over your pocket. The business card given to you by your friend brings a sense of pride and freedom. You’ve waited all your life for this—worked day and night. 
Shouldn’t Pantalone be happy?
You look up from the half-finished dessert plate. 
Pantalone's face is twisted in an unusual expression. His mouth is turned in a way that looks strained and awkward. His hands are still intertwined, but the grip has strengthened. Then, as you meet his eyes, you hold your breath. 
The man sitting in front of you has always had a difficult time controlling his expressions. 
Though, it is obvious you’ve never seen him this apoplectic before.
Then, 
—he smiles.
The room grows cold, and a sudden chilly breeze brushes against the nape of your neck, making the hairs stand up straight. That laughter… You don't know what makes your skin crawl more, the disgust on his face or that vile condescending laughter.
Shocked beyond what you know to do, you mimic him with a nervous chuckle. If you didn't know better, you would've felt like you were in danger—prey to the predator.
After a few seconds, you carefully call out to him. 
“Do you feel lonely, Y/n? Is that why you’re doing this?” Pantalone’s voice is unwaveringly strong and conclusive. It feels as if your answer won't matter because he already has his truth set in mind. “Do you feel neglected by me?”
Your throat is painfully dry when you swallow. You're both thirsty for water and a way out of the current topic. When you answer him, you sound like one of tonight's waiters bending and nearly snapping to his extreme expectations. “No, sir.”
“You know that I hate when you do that.” He stands up from his chair and instantly, one of the waiters on standby comes to his side. 
Pantalone’s voice is cold and distant, “We’ll be taking our leave.”
“Yes, my Lord.” The rehearsed reply falls out of the worker’s lips instantly. 
The young man who was unfortunate enough to serve him tonight hurries off to, what you assume to be, the hostess, so she can let the curtains fall after the last formalities have been told.
You’re still in your seat when Pantalone walks up to your side. 
From the moment you met him, he has radiated grace, kindness, and a friendly appearance. Now, he hovers over you in an authoritative, if not menacing, manner. 
Your hand shakes when you move to grab his. His fingers snake over your skin, holding on to you as if you’d disappear—tightly and oppressive. 
Where did tonight go wrong? 
Was it the news? 
Though… why?
Have you always walked on eggshells around him?
The walk out of the restaurant feels heavy and solemn. The once lively background chatter goes now unnoticed. The opening hall also appeared less warm. From the moment Pantalone set his foot onto the last step of the stair, all the workers were focused on him, but never on you or the bruise forming on your wrist as he pulled you along. 
By the time you reach the car, silence chokes you.
In the absence of his usual overly-present voice, you become more aware of Pantalone’s eyes. Those orbs, usually hidden by his thick dark lashes cling onto you, possessive, owning.
You don’t recall your arrival home, for Pantalone’s grip haunts your body like a burn that’d scar. 
Somewhere between your arrival and now, you had walked deeper into the space. A trial follows you. It falls onto the cold tiles leading up to the bathroom, piece by piece getting rid of the fancy clothes Pantalone had brought, forgetting the necklace he had gifted, ridding yourself of the scent he had worn.
Hot water crashes into your neck and falls onto your body as you stand in the shower. You wonder, how can the world be so deafening quiet? Droplets trail down, racing to meet the drainage below, and your only thoughts consist of wanting to do the same.
On your wrist, you see the outlines of his hand by the bruises he gifted. 
Your chest hurts. Your body aches. All you can do now is rub tonight’s events off your body until your skin is red and threatens to break. 
You feel disgusting. 
You feel trapped. 
You feel alone.
You trace the mark of Pantalone’s hand on your wrist, finding that the marks remain even as time moves on. 
By now, you realise it’s impossible to fall asleep when even in your dreams you feel his presence consume your life. 
Soon, sunshine creeps through the windows, failing to wake you, for you hadn’t fallen asleep in the first place.
You sit on the ground with your phone in hand. In the other, you feel the business card that’s been ripped out of yesterday’s pockets. 
Around you, littered throughout the luxurious apartment, lie two packed suitcases and a trail of the belongings you hadn’t deemed important enough to bring with you. 
If you could, you would've left Snezhnaya yesterday.
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In the capital’s streets, you recently had the pleasure to meet a familiar face. A friend from your university had found a job and has been travelling the world, turning their business course into a travelling agency so they can sustain their life.
After catching up with you, they had offered to take you with them, for—“dreams are meant to be chased. If we can’t, what else do we live for?”
The first chime of the clock hits and you click the button on your phone, dialling the number on the business card. 
The call goes through. 
“Beep… beep… beep… Hi! If I am unavailable, I am most likely busy. Don’t leave a message, just call again later. Thank you!”
Voicemail. 
You try again. 
Voicemail. 
Again.
Voicemail. 
And again.
After failing the call a sixth time, a gloomy feeling settles in. 
You weren’t keen on going to work today and hoped that solidifying your plan with your friend would give you some positivity to make it through. Recalling the events from yesterday only made it more awkward to work in Pantalone’s bank, even if you never saw him at your workplace. 
In theory, you can call in sick, but that’d only lure Pantalone out more.
A sigh escapes your lips and you lift your hand to your forehead. 
It’s too early. Your friend must be asleep. By the end of today, you’re certain you'll get a callback. After all, when you met, they seemed just as excited to travel with you. 
Now, you only needed to hang on a while longer. Soon, you’d be gone. Gone from this feeling. Gone from the control you’ve lost since you left university. Gone—reclaiming freedom once and for all.
The only one who knew about your plans was Pantalone. 
Surely, if you ignored the unsettling feeling in your stomach, today would be like any other day. 
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“My Lord has requested your audience.” 
You recognise the chauffeur in an instant. The car parked in front of your apartment is impossible to not recognise. Pantalone is here? With two suitcases in hand, you watch the chauffeur open the back door. 
Fortunately, you find the inside empty. 
Your eyes move to Pantalone’s chauffeur. “Why?”
“I apologise. My Lord only ordered for me to accompany you. He did not tell me why. Please, allow me to carry your bags to the car.”
You nod, grasping the phone in your pocket tightly. Ultimately, you had neither gone to work nor called in sick. Once the sun had risen, you had made up your mind and left your home with the idea of no return.
Is Pantalone upset? 
Things were left on a tense note yesterday, you wonder if he wants to talk about it. Either way, now there is no chance of avoiding him. He made certain to stress that by sending one of his personnel to fetch you.
Did he decide to let you leave on amicable terms?
The drive from your home to Pantalone’s office is long and silent. You know he only hires the most competent people, and so, you are left with only your thoughts when the chauffeur refuses to keep you company.
The outside world shifts by in a blur. Soon, you find yourself in front of a familiar business. 
‘Northland Bank’. 
 Ah…
When you finally step into his office, you meet Pantalone. 
He sits behind a grand desk. And while his office is as luxurious as you had imagined it to be, you can’t appreciate it in the moment. Comfort and status radiate from his occupational area, and even the obscure spaces such as the wooden outside of dark cabinets against the walls were engraved in details and gold. 
It feels stuffy, crowded, too much.
Your eyes meet his. Pantalone’s golden irises eerily match the furniture and affluence. Even while you’re standing as he sits in his chair, you feel as if you’re below him in every way—status, power, and control. 
“I assume you’ve heard about your promotion?” 
Pantalone intertwines his hands in front of him. 
You’re surprised to hear his usual calm and soft voice. 
He does not acknowledge yesterday’s happenings. 
Wait, promotion?
“...what?” 
“Sit down, my dear.” He signs to the chair on the other side of his desk, facing him instead of the room. It is much smaller than his, yet it is beyond extravagance when compared to the seats you usually sit in. 
For a second, you’re unsure whether to bring up yesterday or to let it go and pretend it had never happened. The latter sounds more alluring at the moment. 
Pantalone continues.
“I have been searching for a new assistant since the previous one unexpectedly… quit.” 
He takes a second, looking into your face patiently as he tries to fish for a reaction. The grandfather clock that ticks throughout the room feels like the last digits counting down before a bomb goes off. 
He continues, “After careful consideration, I felt you were best suited for the job.”
“Thank you, sir, but—” 
“Pantalone,” he corrects you. 
“Yes… Pantalone,” you hesitate. “I am extremely grateful for your generous offer but I have to refuse.”
“Nonsense.” He smiles, waving you off like a fly. “You’ve worked for me as an administrator for long. I know you have the skills and rigour for the task and I certainly don’t doubt your potential under my guidance.” 
His words snake out of his mouth like tiny daggers pinning you down. 
“No si—Pantalone, that’s… I am thankful for your praise, but I recall mentioning my plans to travel to other nations. I-it has been a dream of mine since I was younger. Now that my debts have been repaid—I—”
“Debts repaid?”
You watch as Pantalone’s smile broadens. He gently shakes his head.
“If I recall yesterday’s happening correctly, you admitted you are indebted to me. Is that not true? If so, do you believe you are in a position to refuse me? Is this not the perfect chance to pay off your debt after all I’ve given to you?”
Your resolve waivers at his words. He is right about the first part, but you always worked for him and he paid you. As much as you feel indebted to him, it was baseless. Chains made from nothing but air. 
This, everything, is a fair exchange.
When you try to interject, Pantalone returns to the paperwork on his desk. 
Without a second glance, he shakes his hand into the air and disregards you with little to no more respect than he does the waiters in the restaurant—always below him, ready at his disposal with a single word.  
You barely get a single word past your lips when he overtakes the conversation, turning it into a monologue in the absence of your input.
“For now, be a dear and fetch me something to drink. I’m sure the kitchen staff will help you figure out what I usually get. I’ll explain your tasks once I’m finished.”
Your eyes move over to his desk.
Your friend’s business card. 
Where did he find that?
The phone in your pocket is heavier than ever. Refusing him at this point would bring you more conflict. 
Your plans with your friend were still intact. 
You can and will leave this nation. 
You only have to remain strong for a while longer.
It takes a second, but you eventually move up from the chair. “Once I’ve brought you your drink, where can I find my desk?”
“Desk?” Through his glasses and long lashes, he looks up at you. “Do you honestly believe I’ve brought you here to do administrative work? No, your new job is to keep me company.”
When your confused expression bemuses him, he dismissively continues. 
“Just sit in one of the chairs, or the couch. I don’t particularly care as long as you remain in my office. Feel free to read one of the books on the shelf. As long as you are able to put it down whenever I want you to, I’ll allow it.”
You stand still, letting the words fall over you as you grow numb.
“From now on, your job is to listen to me, understood?”
For the first time since you met him, you realise why you feel so detached from him. You’ve become so accustomed to luxury, it became hard to look past the shimmer and gold. 
But now, when you look into Pantalone’s eyes, they’re worth nothing.
Once you stop idolising the gold that surround him, you find a dull and exhausting life filled with nothing but vengeance and spite. 
You’re nothing but a pet to him.
You never had the chance to be anything else. 
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“Beep…beep…beep… you have one voicemail. Press 1 to hear it.”
BEEP.
“Hey, Y/n. Sorry, I missed your call. See— I, uh… well… I needed to leave Snezhnaya. I can’t bring you with me. So please don't try to reach me again… …stay sa—” 
“End of voicemail message.”
“Beep… beep… beep…
Unfortunately, the number you have tried to call no longer exists. Please check the number and try again later. 
Beeep—”
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©dottiro. Do not copy, repost, translate, feed to AI, or take heavy inspiration from my content. Thank you for reading ♡
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minniesmutt · 8 months ago
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♱ ━━━━━━ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋: 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆
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♱ ━━━ CONTENT: ALCOHOL, DRIVING UNDER THE INFLUENCE, CURSING, DRUNK SEX, NIPPLE PLAY, FINGERING, DIRTY TALK, TEASING, PET NAMES, HAND KINK, KINDA DOM/SUB DYNAMIC, USE OF TRAFFIC LIGHT SYSTEM, PRAISE, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, CHAN HAS A BIG DICK, KINDA POSSESSIVE CHAN, PROTECTED SEX, BEGGING, ROUGH SEX ♱ ━━━ WC: 4.4K ♱ ━━━ PAIRING: CHAN X READER ♱ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog ♱ ━━━ a repost from my old blog
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     It was another Saturday night. Drinking, dancing with friends, thinking about going home with a hot stranger. The life of a twenty-something-year-old seemed easy. It was the party years for Y/n so she ought to enjoy them, right? 
     Her friends had long since found their entertainment for the evening, leaving her pretty much by herself. She’d danced with a few people, but no one seemed to catch her eye this evening. She should just leave the place. It was nearing three am now and her feet were starting to hurt in her heels.
     “You here alone?” a voice came from behind her. She turned her head around to look at the man who questioned her.
     Looks alone could have made her get to her knees. He was wearing an all-black two-piece suit, a couple of buttons undone on top with no tie. His dark hair was short but well-kept. Not to mention his Australian accent too.
     “Not anymore,” Y/n smiled at him as he sat his glass down on the table she was standing at.
     “I’m Chris,” the man offered his hand to her
     “Y/n,” she told him over the music as she put her hand in his.
     Chris brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Y/n blushed at the simple action and he noticed as he set her hand on the table with his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, “Did your friends leave you here all by yourself?”
     “Yeah. I was just about to go home myself before you showed up.”
     “Well, let me buy you a drink then?”
     “How can I say no.” 
     Chris led her to the bar and put the drinks in before he led her over to the VIP area.
     “Did you rent a table just for yourself or were you with someone else tonight?” Y/n asked as she took a seat next to him on the large sofa, his arm resting behind her on the back of the sofa
     “A couple of friends were with me. They left not too long ago,” Chris admitted as one of the bottle girls came with their drinks and hurried off Chris thanked her, “I figured I’d see if I can find someone interesting before I left.”
     “And did you?” Y/n questioned while she leaned forward and grabbed her drink from the table.
     “Don’t know yet, I did find a beauty,” He complimented as he moved his hand to gently run up her back
     Y/n took a sip of her drink and set it back on the table. She turned back to him. That smile may be the death of her tonight. His hand ended at the nape of her neck. Y/n smiled again, moving one of her legs over his lap to straddle him. Chris returned the smile as he pulled her forward, nose just barely touching. “You are interesting,” Chris growled, “I like you.”
     “Do you now?” Y/n returned his flirty energy as she slid her hands up his chest
     “I do. And if you keep touching me like that I’m going to fuck you on this sofa.”
     “Don’t you think if someone saw us they’d kick us out?”
     “Oh, baby. Someone could walk over and see you riding me and they wouldn’t bat an eye.”
     “And why do you think that?”
     The hand that was on the back of her neck moved to her front, taking hold of the column of her throat. He brought his lips up to her ear.
     “I don't think. I know, it's my club after all. What I say goes and I get what I want.” his voice was low in her ear, making her shiver. His hand moved away from her throat and moved to the small of her back, almost on her ass.
     “What do you want now?” She inquired
     “I have what I want. A beauty sitting on my lap.” Chris smiled before he leaned forward and grabbed his drink off the table. Y/n moved backward as he leaned forward. She held onto his shoulders to make sure she didn’t fall.
     He sat back and pushed her right against his chest. He took a sip of his drink before laying the arm on the back. “Though I do think you’d look better down on your knees.”
     “You’re gonna have to kiss me if you want down there.”
     “I can arrange that,” Chris smiled before pulling her down to his lips. Y/n smiled and cupped his cheeks. His lips were warm and plump, a perfect feeling. Y/n moaned against his lips as she enjoyed the feeling. 
     His tongue ran along her bottom lip, asking to be invited in. She gladly obliged and let his tongue slide in and explore her further. His hand moved to hold her hip whilst his tongue tangled with hers, saliva mixing before he pulled away and looked up at her. 
     “Let me take you back to mine, Princess?” he asked, kissing down her neck
     “What happened to fucking me right here on the sofa?” Y/n laughed
     “Hm. Want you all to myself first.” 
     “Let's go.”
     Y/n got off his lap and quickly finished her drink as he stood and did the same. Placing the glass on the table before fixing his jacket. 
     Chris guided her through the club and out the front. Security nodded at him as the two passed. He led her over to a completely blacked-out Benz. Taking a few steps in front of her to open the passenger door. 
     Y/n smiled as she slid inside. Chris shut the door as she secured herself in the seat. He made his way to the driver's side and started the car. Dashboard came to life as he buckled himself in. He didn't waste a second pulling away from the curb, speeding off into the night. 
     One of his hands came and rested on the top of her thigh. “You bring you’re clubgoers home often?” Y/n joked
     “No. You’re the first, princess,” Chris smiled as he glanced at her before looking back at the road, sliding his hand to rest just at the hem of her dress. 
     “Hm, aren’t I special?” 
     “You just might me.” Chris took a turn as he squeezed her thigh.
     Minutes later, he pulled into a building's parking garage and quickly got a spot. He turned the engine off and undid his seat belt, as well as hers before getting out and coming around to her side again. Chris opened up the car door and offered a hand to her. Y/n smiled at how much of a gentleman he was. Guys like him are hard to find nowadays.
     She took his hand and got out of the car. Chris was quick to pull her against him once again as he closed the door behind her. He backed her up against the car, pushing his lips onto her. Large hands gripping her hips, pulling them against his. She could feel his semi growing in his slacks and moaned against his lips.
     Her hands grabbed his collared shirt, undoing another button or two before he pulled away again and picked her up. Y/n squeaked at the surprise movement and grabbed his shoulders. His hands were situated under her ass as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
     The dress rode up a bit so she could feel his warm hands on her skin. He pulled her away from the car and made his way towards the elevator. Y/n used the time between the car and the lift to kiss under his jaw and along his neck. Certain spots ticked him more, making him squeeze her ass. She’d moan against his skin, slightly getting off on teasing him.
     Chris pressed the up button to head up before resting her back against the wall. Pulling her head back and attacking her neck, biting and licking everywhere he could reach before the elevator opened. 
     He pulled her up off the wall and brought her in. Quickly pressing one of the buttons before she was back against a wall with her lips on her neck again. Her fingers gripped the back of his neck and blazer.
    Chris kept a good grip on her as the elevator moved. Making out inside a moving shaft was a little more tricky, especially when you're slightly intoxicated. Y/n laughed at him a few times when he did sway. 
     The minute the elevator stopped he grabbed her from the wall and walked out of the elevator. She’d rarely taken in her surroundings as he walked but knew they’d walked straight into his place from the elevator.
     ‘He’s rich rich. Damn’ she thought as he brought her into a room and laid her back on a mattress
     He stood back for a moment and tossed off the blazer before he was back on her, legs resting on his hips. Lips attacked her and their tongues quickly tangled together. His hand slid up and pushed the skirt of her dress up. 
     “Fucking beauty,” Chris pulled away and moved his kisses down to her neck, rolling his hips against her. 
     “Chris, need you in me,” Y/n moaned as her 
     “Hm. Eager?” Chris chuckled, hands roaming her body till he found the dress’ zipper. 
     He was quick to discard the fabric along with his shirt. Leaving her in her panties and heels.
     “No bra?” He kissed her breasts, cupping one whilst the other hand snuck under her panties. 
     Y/n would have replied but the feeling of his calloused hands against her clit made every thought leave her head. Chris smiled, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples and drawing small circles on her clit. 
     The moans fell embarrassingly loud and quick from her lips. “Getting all fucked out from a little foreplay princess?” Chris teased as he switched breasts 
     “No,” Y/n moaned. 
     “Really?” Chris chuckled and moved his fingers down, rubbing between her folds. His fingers quickly got coated in her slick. He ran the two slick-coated fingers up and down a few times before pushing the two fingers into her
     “Oh fuck,” Y/n damn near screamed from the stretch
     “You like me stretching you open princess?” Chris teased more 
     His fingers weren't necessarily long or thick, but they were definitely a better feeling than most of the guys she’d been with. She’d lost it when she realized a moment later that he also knew how to use them. She was curious about his dicking down skills. 
     She was completely fucked if she was ever with someone else after him if his dick was as good as his fingers. 
     “God yes,” Y/n moaned as she gripped his shoulders 
     Chris’ thumb rubbed those small stimulating circles into her clit as he scissored her open. Her head pressed hard into the mattress as her body arched towards his. He was falling in love with the effect he had on her. He pulled away from her breasts and propped himself up to watch her facial expressions 
     “Gonna make a mess on my fingers for me princess?”
     “Yes,” Y/n moaned as her legs tightened around his hips, “please make me come, Chris.”
     “So cute when you beg,” he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, swallowing her moans. Y/n melted into the sheets under him as she finally came on his fingers. The knot snapped as quickly as it formed. 
     His fingers slowed down and moved to pump in and out of her rather than open her for him. “You have a safe word, Princess?”
     “Traffic light,” Y/n replied
     “Color?” Chris kissed her cheek
     “Green.”
     He slipped a third finger into her and sped up his pace, “Give me another one princess.”
     Y/n moved a band from his shoulder into his hair, gripping at what she could in his hair. His lips laid against her neck. His thumb rolled circles lazily into her clit still. He pressed a little harder onto the bud and made her scream. 
     “Give it to me, princess.” his fingers picked up their pace. The fabric of her panties restricted his movement a bit. He half wanted to rip the fabric off of her. He could feel they had gotten a bit wet from her first orgasm. 
     “Faster, please. ‘M close,” Y/n moaned
     Chris pulled back, fingers still thrusting into her. He pulled her panties off her legs as quickly as he could, tossing them away. He leaned over her, hand planted on the bed next to her head, and picked up his speed. 
     Her mouth hung open as she gripped the sheets of his bed. Body arching and shaking. Chris pushed a fourth fingering in as a train of fucks left her mouth. The sound of her soaked cunt getting fucked open on his fingers filled the room with her moans and fucked out babbling. 
     “‘M gonna come,” Y/n repeated, a thin layer of sweat rolling along her skin. 
     Chris watched her come on his finger again. He pulled his fingers out, watching the liquid flow out of her and her clench around nothing. He got down between her legs, pushing them open, and leaned in, licking a strip from her entrance up to her clit. 
     Y/n shivered at the roughness of his tongue on her sensitive clit. Chris smiled as he sat up on his knees. He moved her body up to lay her head on the pillows. Y/n caught her breath and eyed him. He was very well built, with a few scars on his upper body. Maybe an ex-military man turned bougie club owner? 
     Chris smiled at her as he undid his belt with one hand, pulling it from the slacks belt loops. Her eyes fell on the large bulge in his pants, blushing a bit thinking about the size he truly was. He kicked off the pants and dress shoes.
     “Gonna keep these pretty heels on while I fuck you?” Chris asked as he leaned forward, running a hand along her calf down to her ankle
     “Mhm. Take them off your princess?” Y/n teased
     “Spoiled you already haven't I?” Chris laughed 
     Nonetheless, he undid the ability straps of her heels and tossed them to the floor. Y/n pulled him up to her lips again. Chris gladly did so as he grinded down against her, both groaning into the kiss.
     Y/n ran a hand between their bodies and palmed his erection over his boxers. Chris pulled his lips away from hers and pressed his forehead into her shoulder. Catching her hand between their bodies before she moved to grab the waistband. 
     He sat back and pulled them down and off his legs. Finally, let his erection breathe and stand tall as he tossed the last bit of fabric onto the floor with their other clothes. 
     “Holy fuck,” Y/n breathed out as she eyed him in all his glory. She was screwed for anyone else after this. 
     “Getting nervous princess.” Chris got up momentarily, grabbing something from a bedside table and tossing it on the bed. Box of condoms
     “Mm. You're hot, know how to make a girl come and use protection without being told? I might just stick around you for a while,” Y/n smiled as he grabbed a condom from the package, opening up the foil. 
     “Can't say I'm opposed to keeping you after tonight,” Chris replied as he rolled the rubber onto his cock before settling between her legs, pulling them up to rest her ankles on his shoulders as his hands rest under her ass. Her lower half was being held up off the bed by him.
     One hand left her ass momentarily and lined his tip up with her cunt. His hands gripped her ass as he pushed into her. Y/n grabbed at his sheets as he filled her up. God, the stretch of his dick was better than his fingers. He was big, that was the only way to describe him. Not like, massively, but he was well above average. Both length and girth wise.
     He took it slow, allowing her to adjust to his cock inside her warm walls. The position just made it more pleasurable. The elevation was helping him reach places that she didn’t even know she had in her. Her eyes were already rolling back when he finally pulled back and slammed into her.
     “Fuck!” Y/n screamed
     “So fucking warm in here. Make we wanna keep you here with me,” Chris groaned as he fucked into her
     Sweat rolled down both their bodies. The room was big but it felt so hot everywhere. The sounds all mixed together: moans, skin-hitting skin, cursing, everything. This man had managed to fuck every single thought out of her head, and in an hour at that. Most men couldn’t even do that in general.
     The knot in her lower stomach was back, tightening quickly as Chris’ thrusts. She was ninety-nine percent sure that he put her in this position to repeatedly hit her g-spot with his dick. And that was exactly what he was doing.
     His eyes watched her every move. Her breasts bounced with his thrusts and her eyes threatened to close. Incoherent words coming from her lips. If only he could take a picture of her. She looked like an angel to him in that fucked out moment.
     “‘M… come…” The words brokenly fell from her lips.
     “Use your big girl words, princess.”
     “Gonna come.” She stated as her hands came up from gripping his silk sheets to knead her breasts
     “You wanna come on my cock now?” Chris teased
     “Yes! Please… me come… cock.”
     Chris chuckled at her broken sentence. He found it cute that he had her fucked out to the point she could barely speak. Part of him wanted to see her just a babbling drooling mess in his sheets. 
     Her walls clamped down around him and broke him from his thoughts. “Fuck, princess. Do that again and I’ll let you come on my cock,” He groaned
     “Please Chrissy,” Y/n begged as her walls clamped down on him again
     “Shit,” Chris picked up his pace as she came on his cock. Her body was shaking in his hands as he drilled into her, chasing his own high. 
     One final thrust had Chris sinking himself into her and shooting into the condom. His head tilted back to the ceiling as he sat on cloud nine. Once he got down from the ecstasy, he pulled out and set her lower body back on the bed. 
     “Feeling okay, princess?” Chris asked as he kissed her forehead
     “Mhm,” Y/n nodded, eyes drooping closed. She was exhausted
     “I’ll be right back, ‘kay?” Chris got up from the bed and took off the condom, tying it and making sure it didn’t break before tossing it in the trash. He walked out of the room and into his kitchen. 
     He flicked the lights on and almost got scared shit less when he saw two of his friends sitting at his bar. “What the fuck is wrong with you two?” He asked, continuing on his task, grabbing water and pain reliever for the girl in his bed.
     “Why is your dick out?” Jisung asked him
     “Why are you sitting in my kitchen in the dark with Bin at almost fucking five in the morning?” He retorted
     “You didn’t answer you’re phone so we came over,” Changbin answered
     “Yeah. You sounded busy so we figured we wait,” Jisung added
     “Like fucking creeps?!” Chan yelled
     “Says the one with his dick out!” Changbin retorted
     “It’s my fucking place! I walk around naked all the fucking time. Sue me!”
     “Pervert,” Jisung sighed
     “What did you guys need?”
     “I’m not talking business while staring at you’re dick man,” Changbin stated
     “Then piss off? Come back later.” With that, Chan shut off the light with the two objects he came in for and walked back into the room.
     She was passed out on his sheets. He set the water and medicine on the end table before going into the bathroom, grabbing a towel and wetting it before heading back over and cleaning up the mess between her legs.
     She moved slightly and groaned as he finished up. “Wake up princess. Gotta drink some water and use the bathroom.” Chris whispered
     “‘M tired,” Y/n whined
     “I know Princess. Come here,” Chris picked her up and carried her over to the bathroom, set her down on the toilet, and gave her a minute. One night stand or not, he was still gonna take care of the girl after he pretty much blew her back out. He quickly changed the bed sheets and put fresh ones on before she called for him again
     “Chris…” Y/n called
     He headed back into the bathroom and cleaned her up again before carrying her back to the bed. He got her to take the medicine and water before climbing under the fresh sheets with her and wrapping his arms around her, pulling him against his chest. Going to sleep as the sun was rising. 
     He probably got three hours of sleep before he heard his name being yelled from his hallway. The voice belonged to Minho. He opted to get out there before he kicked the door down with Y/n still there.
     He groaned and untangled himself from the girl, grabbed his boxers, and quickly got out of the room, quietly closing the door. He found Minho smiling at him. “What do you want?” He asked
     In Minho fashion, he just turned and walked into the man’s kitchen. Chan followed and found the other six sitting there waiting. “Oh thank god his dick isn’t out.” Jisung sighed in relief
     “What are all of you doing here?”
     “Shipment got intercepted last night,” Changbin said
     “Again, why are all of you here?” Chan asked again
     “Because we need to figure out who the hell has our shipping schedule, old man,” Seungmin commented
     “Well, you chose a shitty time.”
     “That girl still here?” Jisung asked
     “Yes. So fucking leave,” Chan ran his hands over his face
     “So you can blow the poor girls back out again?” Changbin asked
     “She as pretty as she sounds?” Jisung added
     “You guys heard them?” Hyunjin asked
     “He didn’t answer his phone so we showed up to figure out what was going on,” Jisung answered with a shrug
     “And you call me a pervert,” Chan sighed, “Look, I will text you guys when she leaves so we can figure this out. For now, Felix, can you look into the camera footage and see if you can find the tracking for what we lost? Minho and Jeongin, go down to the dock and talk to the our guys that were on duty and anyone else.”
     “What about the rest of us?” Seungmin asked
     “I’m sure you guys have things to do,” Chan sighed and walked back to his room. 
     He opened up the door to find Y/n sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She looked over at him as he entered the room. “Where’d you go?” she asked 
     “A couple of buddies of mine came over. Told them to come back later,” Chris crawled back into his bed with her, “how are you feeling princess?”
     “Sore,” She replied, laying in his arms after he opened them to her, “In a good way though.”
     “Good enough to let me take you on a date,” Chris smiled and kissed the top of her head.
     “Gonna keep me around now?” Y/n joked as she looked up at him
     “You said it yourself last night, you’re my princess,” Chris leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips.
     Y/n cupped his cheeks and kissed him back. Much softer than the kisses they had already shared. Chris pulled her on top of him, holding onto her hips as she straddled him— though it was rather short-lived.
     “One more thing!” Minho’s voice came as the door flew open.
     “Dude!” Chan yelled at his friend as he pulled away from the kiss
     “Was I right?” Jisung jumped into the room
     “You have interesting friends,” Y/n told the man below her.
     “I’m about to kill them all.” Chris sighed
     “I was right. She is as hot as she sounds,” Jisung smiled which made five more fill into the room. Chan did his best to hide her from their eyes but it was probably too late.
     “You know, if you’re gonna take her on a date, we might as well meet her,” Changbin stated
     “He’s right old man,” Seungmin added
     Chris looked at Y/n, hoping she’d tell him to get them the fuck out of there. But she agreed with them. Chris groaned, “Fine, kitchen.” 
     The seven men made their way out of the room. Chris moved around the room and grabbed a pair of sweats for himself and one of his plain t-shirts for her. Y/n thanked him, slipped the shirt over her head and stood up. Her legs were still a bit shaky from last night, but she could walk. Didn’t stop him from picking her up like he did last night and carrying her out to the kitchen. 
     “Awe, he’s such a gentleman,” Jeongin teased him as Chan set her down on the counter.
     Y/n looked around the room. The first thing she really noticed was that Chris’ friends were just as hot as he was. If there wasn’t a possible relationship with Chris, she’d probably give the others a chance too.
     Chris introduced each of them to her, each just as nice as he was, but a little more chaotic. Y/n could tell the eight were close. Almost like brothers in a sense. 
     But then Y/n noticed an object hanging from Han’s side, “Is that a gun?”
     Everyone stopped for a moment and looked to see who had their gun out. “Jisung,” Chris said
     “Whoops…” Han’s face flushed as he fixed his coat to hide it like it was gonna take away from the fact that Y/n had seen it
     “Why do you have a gun?” Y/n continued
     “You didn’t tell her, did you?” Felix asked his friend
     Chan shook his head, “Didn’t come up?”
     “Tell me what?” Y/n looked at him.
     “Uhhhh.”
     Chris scratched the back of his head, trying to find the softer words to tell her that the eight guys she was hanging out with were—
     “Chan’s the leader of this big underground gang and we all work for him. Why was that hard to say,” Minho said as blunt as ever.
     “That’s one way to say it I guess,” Hyunjin added
     “So, I fucked a mafia boss?”
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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 2 months ago
Note
Wednesday x little sister reader, and shes protective like in a motherly way and reader is feeling a bit rebellious I suppose???
Fencing Accidents
|| Wednesday Addams x platonic!sibling!reader
|| Warnings; blood mentions, injured reader, bianca fighting with reader, brief murder mention
|| Summary; when Wednesday decides she's sick of reader, she sends Enid to keep her busy for a while. Enid tries finding something that could excite the reader and hopes fencing might be just what the reader needs.
Requests open!
Started; September 18th
Finished; September 19th
~~~
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You were Wednesday Addam's little sister, so to say people at Nevermore Academy liked you... well, that would be a complete lie. Wednesday was pretty much the only person you hung out with. You didn't talk to her roommate Enid all that much; unless Wednesday insisted Enid hung out with you. Which has happened a few times, especially when one of you annoys her past her limits.
This was one of those times. You had bothered Wednesday while she was writing, so she sent Enid to distract you. The two of you sat out at the dorm's balcony, playing a game of cards.
"Go fish," Enid said with a smirk as she looked at you over her card hand.
You simply sighed. Enid had picked this game.
"I hate this," You reached down and picked up another card, adding it to your growing collection.
"You say that about everything, Y/N."
"Maybe because there isn't anything to like." You muttered, Enid frowned when she heard you and had a determined look in her eyes as she stood and grabbed your hand. Card game forgotten.
"Come on! We're going to find something for you to like then!" She said, a bounce in her step as she practically dragged you back into the dorm then into the hall.
Wednesday didn't even look at you guys as she typed away.
"Enid, please..." You tried to protest, but she gave your hand a little pull and smiled as she turned to look at you.
"Wednesday likes fencing, maybe we can start there?" Enid suggested.
"Wednesday also likes murder."
"Um... well-" Enid stuttered out, you fought back a smirk at her reaction. She was so easy to mess with," let's- let's just start with fencing, okay?"
And so that's how you found yourself in a fencing suit. About to face off Enid, the two of you had just gotten into position before Bianca walked over in her own fencing gear.
"Addams, if it's a challenge you're looking for... shouldn't someone more suited be your opponent?" Bianca asked, a certain look in her eyes that you knew just spelled trouble.
Something you were absolutely down for. She did have a point, Enid would not be able to keep up with you. You weren't great at fencing by any means but you weren't terrible either. You'd fenced with Wednesday a few times. Which was partially why you weren't entirely opposed to the idea when you heard it.
You sighed and shrugged," kay."
"Kay?" She repeated in confusion, she was expecting at least a little more of a reaction. But you were an Addams after all. She shared a look with one of the girls next to her who shrugged too. Seeming just as confused.
Bianca ignored that for now and got into position as you did the same.
The match started with you making the first lunge, Bianca blocked you and then lunged forwards herself. You made the decision to dodge as opposed to block.
This back and fourth would continue for the next few moments until you managed to get the first point and the match reset.
Y/N; 1 Bianca; 0
Enid clapped and cheered you on, looking rather excited. Maybe she was thinking she helped you find a hobby.
Really you were just happy to have an excuse to fight Bianca. The way she treated Wednesday always got on your nerves, so you saw this as your chance at some sort of revenge. And revenge was a hobby of yours.
"Masks off." Bianca spoke up, you raised an eyebrow at that.
"Masks off?" You repeated.
"Let's see how good you are without protective gear. We go until first blood." Bianca continued to explain.
"Like what you and Wednesday did?" You replied, having heard the very short version of the story from your sister before.
Bianca nodded," exactly."
This intrigued you. You were definitely fond of the idea of drawing blood, so you agreed. Which made Enid a little nervous.
Meanwhile with Wednesday, Thing had scrambled over to her. Frantically trying to get her attention. He had followed you and Enid, so he was trying to tell Wednesday what was happening.
"Thing, you know I do not like being disturbed during my writing hour." Wednesday didn't look up from her type writer.
Thing crawled onto it and placed himself right in front of the paper, blocking Wednesday's view as he kept trying to sign to her. Telling her what was happening.
"That's her problem, not mine." Wednesday stated," Now move if you value your fingers."
He tried again, explaining the whole going until someone bleeds. This caught Wednesday's attention as she remembered how her fencing match had gone with Bianca.
Back with you and Bianca, you had lost your match to her. With her managing to put a slice on your neck. Your fingers dabbed the spot, feeling the blood there. You couldn't help but grin even just a little.
"One more round?" You asked her, she raised an eyebrow.
"Haven't had enough?"
"Yes, she has." Wednesday's voice caught your attention as she seemingly appeared right next to you. Startling you a bit. When did she get there?
"Wednesday-" You started, she held her hand up to silence you. The look she gave Bianca was bone chilling.
"She's done here." Wednesday and Bianca seemed to be in some sort of stare off, you and Enid exchanged confused glances.
Bianca rolled her eyes and scoffed," whatever."
Wednesday turned to face you," let's go." Her tone was firm, leaving zero room for argument with you.
You groaned and followed after with Enid trailing not to far behind.
Back at the dorm, Wednesday patched up the cut on your neck. Not saying a word the entire time. You could just tell she was annoyed with you and you could practically hear the lecture that was coming.
When she was done, her ice cold gaze met your eyes and you couldn't help but shiver.
"Wednesday-"
"Not a word from you. I believed you to he smarter than that. Seems that I was wrong. You should go back to your dorm, before more trouble finds you."
You weren't exactly happy with how she talked to you, but you listened to her nonetheless. Not wanting to push your luck.
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cheegu3 · 10 months ago
Text
gangster!new - punishing you
note; original ask here, I had to make a separate post bc of tumblr again
warnings; yandere/mafia themes, unhealthy relationships, gun, slightly dub-con, sadism, drugging, smut - rough sex, non-protective, nasty but short sex lol (licking cum, spitting in mouth)
wc; 2.6k
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The billboard lights had gotten blurrier the further you walked and you couldn't help but wonder if it was your mind playing tricks on you.
With the adrenaline pumping in your body and your water-soaked shoes running on the wet pavement, there was a high chance you weren’t exactly in the right state of mind now.
Maybe because of that you pushed on, even as it got so bad you almost fell into the busy traffic.
You didn't hear anything but your own heavy breaths. Occasionally, you scared yourself by thinking he was behind you; if you turned around too quickly you'd see a man in a suit and immediately you squealed '' no, no, please, '' to yourself.
It was only yesterday that you found out that your boyfriend wasn't who you thought he was.
At the end of the night out with your friends you were supposed to walk a few blocks to get a bus.
On the way there you passed by many alleyways but one in particular piqued your interest. Sounds came from far down it. Hushed voices, muffled screams, and the sound of a gun reloading.
You shouldn't have done it but your feet seemed to drag themselves forward on their own until you stood at the very end of the alley and it was already too late - they saw you.
'' Hey! Who's that? ''
You froze before your brain sensed danger and kicked in your flight instinct. Whipping around you started to run as hard as you could and sprinted for around 200 meters, then dove into a small shop when you felt your legs grow weak.
You forced your breathing to regulate, taking deep breaths while placing a hand over your chest as if to stop your pounding heart from escaping it.
The customers gave you curious looks and eyed each other questioningly. Then their gazes moved which you only noticed once you weren't panting anymore and had the energy to raise your head.
They were fixated on something behind you. In sync, their eyes moved from the left to the right until whatever was behind seemed to stop right at the door where you were standing.
You had a gut feeling that it was the guys from before. The gun and the shady business that seemed to be going down in that alley had made you come to the conclusion that they were gangsters. The city was full of them, and your boyfriend Chanhee had often told you to stay away from them at all costs. He said he knew them too well since he was a native.
Pretending like your anxiety levels hadn't skyrocketed, you went over to the back row of the shop casually and looked at something on the shelf. The bells above the door jingled, causing you to be more alert as they finally entered the shop.
You listened to their footsteps and your forehead creased. It was hard to make out how many of them there were. The loud thud of boots was always followed by several more and then a dragging sound.
You turned your head a little bit and discovered that the sound came from people moving out of the way. They were getting closer to you. It seemed like they inspected everyone in the shop before moving on to the next which meant there was no escaping the inevitable meeting you'd have with them.
A lone sandwich was the only thing you took out of the shelf. It would be too suspicious to just stand there, your back turned and not even buy anything. Maybe...just maybe they'd think you weren't the one if you actually looked like you belonged there.
But it was getting too hard to not act like the imposter. Everything about you screamed guilty. Your hands clenched around the poor sandwich to stop them from shaking violently.
Your mind kept going back to the alley. With some panic, you realized that if they saw you again, they'd recognize you right away. Although you didn't see their faces due to the darkness, you were standing right under the streetlights.
The crinkling sound brought the attention of a man who had ventured off on his own to make the search for the witness more effective.
You closed your eyes and tried to focus on something else to stop your body from sweating profusely. But it was too late. The man had already put his hand on your shoulder to turn you to him.
Glancing back, the first thing you saw was his pale hand on you. Surprisingly for a gangster, it was very pretty. Long slick fingers, not a scar, injury, or callus in sight.
You didn't mean to, but you smiled and looked up at the man. The smile fell immediately. And so did his, your boyfriend's.
For a whole minute, you just stared at each other. A range of emotions washed over both of your faces; confusion, anger, guilt, sadness, denial.
He finally spoke, and when he did so his voice came out tired. '' You weren't supposed to find out like this. ''
You didn't say anything. Your mouth felt like sandpaper. But it seemed to only agitate him. Maybe he wanted you to say the words he'd want to hear like ' it's okay, I don't care, I love you anyway '.
You couldn't say them. Not after you'd seen him like that.
'' I told you to go straight home, didn't I? '' he raised his voice which made you flinch.
You didn't miss the way he put his hands in his pockets. People don't show their hands when they feel certain emotions, such as anxiety or guilt.
He knew he was in the wrong for deceiving you but still acted now like it was somehow your fault for discovering his dark little secret.
'' You never listen to me. That's the problem with you! ''
He was getting angrier and angrier by your continued silence, taking it as an act of rebellion. As he took a step towards you, meant to intimidate, someone behind him called out, '' New, let's go. ''
New?
You stared up at him. He responded to the name and gave you one last look, tensely telling you under his breath for you to go home, and then left with the group.
The different name caught you off guard. It felt like the final punch to the gut before crashing down. Somehow it created a wall between you and Chanhee. A different name, a different persona, a different job. He'd been living a completely separate life.
You hadn't been cheated on but it almost felt like it. With a sour taste in your mouth, you went home at last and locked yourself into one of the spare bedrooms. There was no way you wanted to see your boyfriend for the rest of the day.
As you lay in bed trying to sleep, a thought popped into the forefront of your mind, something you'd never considered much before. Sure, he'd been possessive and overbearing but you could handle it.
This however? He was a bad person, a terrible one in fact, who hurt others.
'' Oh my god, '' you whispered to yourself.
Was that man dead? Had he killed him? Your sweet loving boyfriend? You felt sick. The love was rapidly disappearing, only being replaced with pure disgust. How could you have loved someone like that, or not noticed it? A psycho right in front of your eyes!
A psycho who laid his delicate hands around you at night, telling you he loved you; while those same hands were used to kill.
'' Y/n? ''
As if on cue, the devil came home and knocked softly on your door. You turned over on your side and ignored it, hoping that he'd give up and go away soon.
And he did. He tried the door and despite not getting an answer which would usually set his temper off, he just left it and went away.
You woke up the next day with an uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. There was a feeling that you needed to walk on eggshells around him now.
'' Hey. Did you sleep well? '' was the first thing he said.
It wasn't unusual for him to ask that if he got up earlier than you. Now though, he could probably see the dark circles under your eyes, as his face was laced with concern.
You only nodded and tried not to stiffen when he approached you for his morning kiss. It was awkward for both of you.
He gestured to the filled dining table before heading to the door. A glance at the clock told you it was almost 1pm; you'd slept for a very long time and likely he had waited hours for you.
'' Are you going somewhere? ''
'' Work, '' he said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.
Work from now on meant his mafia work, the part he'd kept hidden from you before. Your eyes narrowed. Was he going off somewhere to hurt someone again?
But you didn't say anything. After the door closed behind him, you started gathering your most important things and texted your sister that you were coming over to spend the night there.
An hour passed before you felt brave enough to leave. You brought a sandwich and a water bottle that Chanhee had put out for you which you sipped on while walking to the city.
It was a Sunday so there were barely any buses. You clenched your teeth and kept walking despite that, determined to reach your sister's house in an hour or two.
However, it would prove to be a lot more difficult than you'd originally thought. Within twenty minutes you looked back and realized you hadn't walked far at all.
Your head began throbbing for some reason and you couldn't tell if it was the pouring rain, tiredness, or something else, but your vision started getting distorted too.
How long had you been walking for now? You could see the billboards shining down on you like they always did. Yet everything surrounding it seemed to be dark.
Your steps became wobbly when you were about to pass by the spot where you had seen Chanhee just the day before. You decided to rest there against the wall until whatever had just disrupted you would go away.
You had only just sat down when your body fell down to the side with a loud thump.
*******
Lights woke you from your strange slumber. You had to blink a few times to come back to reality and make sense of your surroundings. What greeted you was no longer the alley and the darkness, but a familiar setting - your bedroom, with a familiar person, your boyfriend.
He helped you sit up. You stretched your tense muscles and tried to move to get out of bed, stomach practically screaming at you. Things hadn't fully set in yet; such as the fact that he had found you somehow and brought you back there, which must mean he knew you tried to escape.
The only thing you cared about now was food and sleep since the throbbing from before had left an awful after-effect in your head.
'' I have food, don't get up. ''
He handed you some food that you nibbled on quietly. As you washed it down with some drink, it finally hit you.
Your eyes widened but you quickly had to pretend like nothing was wrong, just in case he didn't actually know. You tried to read his impression, stoic, unamused maybe? He usually smiled when he saw you looking at him. Not now though, not at all.
Once you were done he took it away from you and didn't even bother going to put it in the kitchen, he just placed it on the nightstand. For some reason it made alarm bells ring inside your head.
'' That wasn't very smart of you, was it? ''
You shuddered at his low tone, it was one he had never really used with you before, one that very clearly painted a picture of who was the prey and who was the predator.
You backed up against the header behind but didn't get very far; he pulled you down swiftly by your leg so you were dragged closer to him. Laying there shaking, he just looked down at you.
'' You know I drugged the water, right? ''
Your mouth fell open.
'' I knew you'd try something like this just to piss me off. ''
Suddenly he started unbuttoning his suit shirt which confused you. He smirked at your puzzled look and seemed to enjoy you watching him undress.
Once the shirt was off he was satisfied, and so, he came over to hover over you. Your wrists were pinned in an almost painful grip above your head.
'' I-I was just...going for a walk. '' you licked your dry lips.
His expression didn't change and he didn't answer you. Taking a breath of relief a bit too early you gasped when he caught you off guard by flipping you onto your stomach.
You tried wriggling out of his grasp.
'' Don't pretend like you don't want it every day, '' he sounded both amused and angry, his words carrying an almost venomous edge to them.
You buried your face into the pillow in embarrassment, your body acknowledging his words by the growing wetness between your thighs.
Behind you, you heard his zipper go down and were just about to glance back when he pushed into you without warning. He didn't even bother pulling his pants off.
Both of you let out loud sounds, his of pleasure and you a cry of pain. A string of incomprehensible words left your mouth, which he ignored, picking up a long and hard thrusting rhythm instead.
Loud, wet, and filthy sounds filled the room. You felt humiliated to admit you'd never been so turned on. You didn't fight it and just let your body rock with each thrust. But you were still very aware that it was a punishment by the burning feeling, that although decreasing, was very much present.
Whimpers turned into small moans that you tried muffling. But it became very hard to do as his chest touched your back and you heard his low groans in your ear.
You couldn't hide how you felt from him. Whatever sounds you made would likely push his sadistic self over the edge if you weren't careful.
Your body gave in to him more and more as the pleasure lulled your brain and numbed the pounding head from before.
'' Chanhee, '' you whined, '' I'm gonna- ''
A sound of loud protest broke from your lips. He pulled out as soon as you spoke and you felt the warmth of him finishing on your back thigh.
You were just about to whine again and angrily question why he didn't let you finish, but his warm tongue coming in contact close to your core made your body tingle.
He flipped you over on your back again and forced your mouth open with his thumb.
'' What are you doing? ''
Leaning right over you he kept your mouth open and then spat right into it, almost making you choke from the shock. The saltiness hit your tongue and you immediately recognized the taste which you swirled around in your mouth.
'' Swallow. ''
He didn't have to tell you twice. You swallowed hard and then glared at him again. As if you were telepathic, he smiled knowingly.
'' I won't let you finish tonight, you don't deserve it. ''
You rolled your eyes and clenched your teeth in irritation. It didn't really feel like you had a say in this so you remained tight-lipped with a scowl on your face.
That was until he dove his head in between your legs and made your body turn into jelly again. This was going to be a long and torturous night, you knew him.
He'd go on for hours til you were begging for him to let you finish with tears streaming down your face.
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maplegracefour · 4 months ago
Text
Shut Up and Drive | Part Two
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Summary: the pre-season party is in full swing
Warnings: Alcohol consumption
Word Count: ~1100
Author's Note: things are heatin up and we haven't even got to the races yet.... (this isn't proofread so please beware of typos or poorly phrased sentences tehe)
PART ONE HERE
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You had spent hours trying to figure out what to wear, staring at the options laid out on the bed you felt a little hopeless. Obviously you want to leave a good impression tonight. Dress nice, but not too outrageous. You had spoken a little to Tucker, Ted’s performance engineer, before leaving the track earlier that day and he had given you the low down on who you should expect to see there tonight.
You couldn’t be more grateful for his expertise.
You were warned that these parties were no joke, the teams like to work hard and therefore they play hard. But you never could have expected how hard they would go. There was a live band, hundreds of people with drinks in hand, flashing lights and you’re pretty sure you saw an ice sculpture somewhere. A free bar is not something you could pass up though.
You make your way over, ordering yourself a drink before tucking yourself in a corner, not wanting to get in the way.
You resign yourself to people watching. You notice a few people from the day of work, including David who is talking to a bunch of men you haven’t seen before, they’re all in suits. You assume that they’re higher ups in the team, investors and managers. You make a mental note to avoid them if you can.
You then notice another familiar face. Schlatt is leaning against the bar on the other side of the room, he’s locked in conversation with an engineer that you’ve seen around a little bit before. One thing you definitely hadn’t expected is that he is staring, directly at you. Your eyebrows furrow as you look back at him, confused as to why he was keeping such an intense eye contact with you.
You think about stepping forward, you think about going to talk with him. It feels like there’s an invisible tether between you, something silently tugging at you to get closer, but you don’t. Why don’t you?
“Hey,” Your eyes snap to Ted, who has slid in front of you, blocking Schlatt from your view. You try to hide your disappointment as your gaze is rerouted to meet Ted’s.
“Hi.” You say quietly, looking up at him with a fixed smile.
He grins back down at you, his shift in movement gives you enough space to glance back at the place Schlatt was standing, but he’s not there anymore. You hide your frown, turning your attention back to Ted.
It’s not like Schlatt owed you a conversation or anything, but out of anyone in this room right now, it’s him. But, you guess Ted isn’t the the worst guy to be talking to right now so you turn your full attention to him.
“Enjoying the party?” Ted asks, swirling his drink around his cup as he looks down at you, towering above you once again.
You hum, taking in the view of the party. There’s a lot of celebrities here, people you’ve only seen on the TV or in magazines, nothing could have prepared you for the kind of people you’d be rubbing shoulders with after getting this job. “It’s… a lot. I’m not used to all this…”
“Money?” He says, raising an eyebrow. You give him a confused look. “No, not like that. I just mean, these parties are stupidly extravagant.” He says, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips.
You laugh, nodding. “I understand.” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Anyway, how are you finding the team so far?” You ask. “Excited for the season to start?”
“Oh yeah, absolutely. It’s a switch up for sure but the car is gorgeous and the team…” He pauses for a moment, eyes trailing down your body. “The team’s not so bad either.”
You can’t help but blush, he really is a shameless flirter.
Your eyes flit to the ground, unable to keep eye contact when his comment is so directly flattering. He chuckles, leaning against the wall beside you. “Y’know… it would be cool to get your number. Just to… keep in touch. For work, obviously.”
You finally gather up the courage to look back up at him, giving him a small nod. “Do you often flirt with new team members on the first day of the season?”
“Only the pretty ones.” He murmurs as he pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it to you. Your blush darkens as you type your number into his phone and pass it back to him. “I gotta head, have to show face with the shareholders. I’ll text you.” He says, before pushing off the wall. As he heads off, he turns back and sends a wink your way.
You let out a breath you didn’t even know you’ve been holding as you watch him disappear into the crowd, attention turning to the drink in your hand, it’s almost empty. You decide now is the time to grab yourself another drink before you get looped into a conversation that you would very much be an unwilling participant of.
As you lean against the bar, hands clutching the now empty cup, a voice speaks up from beside you. You hadn’t even noticed anyone walking up.
“You and Ted, huh?” Where the fuck did he come from?
You turn to face Schlatt, raising an eyebrow. “Sorry?”
“I saw you two flirting.” He murmurs, nursing a glass of whiskey. 
You frown, confused. “Is that a problem?” You ask, simultaneously flagging down the bartender. “Can I have another of these?” You tell him, holding up your cup. The bartender nods and you look back to Schlatt.
“I’m just sayin’,” His hand rubs over his chin, fingers brushing over his facial hair. “I’d rather not have my teammate and my engineer distracted by whatever is going on.”
“I met the guy less than 12 hours ago.” You tell him. “Also, I’m not your engineer. David is.”
“And, you work under David. Therefore, you are my engineer.” He says, looking you over. “But, if you keep flirting with drivers then you might not be for much longer.”
“Are you threatening my job because Ted asked for my number?” You stand up a little straighter as your drink is given to you.
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t treat the paddock like a frat house and we won’t have any issues.”
You stare at him. Though the room is full of people and the crowd is loud, the silence between the two of you is deafening. You don’t spare him another word, angry at the accusation he’s just thrown your way.
You simply turn, and walk away.
PART THREE HERE
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scarletttries · 2 years ago
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Forever Mine (Kendall Roy Succession Request)
Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x F! Reader
Rating: Explicit (Breeding Kink/ Jealous Kendall)
Word Count: 2.1k
Request: "Hiii Scarlett!!! I LOVE to read your kendall roy writings💜 can you write something about kendall trying to get you pregnant( bc I LOVED breeding kink) ?? Or having rough sex bc getting jealous of one of his friends' attention to u??"
Author's note: Thank you so much for this excellent request, I kind of combined the two ideas into the below fic for you 🥰💕
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Forever Mine
"How can a company that makes more money than really exists in the world still need more investors?" You sighed into your fizzing glass of champagne as you continued to circulate through the crowd, Gerri stifling a laugh at your side.
"How'd you think the rich stay rich? They never use their own money for anything." She feigned a smile as a group of men shuffled past, their metaphorical wallets straining against the fabric of their designer suits as they moved. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go make them all feel important, so I can keep my job." You could see her eyes roll as she plastered on a fake smile and left you stood by the bar, hoping that Kendall would get bored soon enough and call it a night for the both of you. You never minded being his plus one to events like this, the chance to see him in his charming element not one you'd pass up, Ken stealing glances your way all night with a smile on his face that he only wore for you. But after a few hours the conversations always wore a little thin, and you usually found one of the old guard hovering beside you to make sure you weren't doing anything that might get people commenting.
"Are you waiting for a drink?" An strangely familiar voice snapped you back to reality, spinning on your heels to find a tall, well-built man in his fifties smiling at you like a lion spying a gazelle.
"No, I'm all set thank you, just pausing here for a moment." You replied with a courteous smile, taking a small step backwards as if you were blocking the bar that spanned the length of the decadent hall.
"Would you mind if I 'pause' with you for a moment?" It was then that you placed his suave voice in your mind, the man an up-and-coming congressman that couldn't stop appearing on ATN news shows, repeating whatever lines Logan's team had written from him that day. As he leaned over the bar to ask for a whiskey you took the opportunity to glance around for an exit plan, but with groups of investors all deep in conversation on every side of you, you swallowed the acid in your throat and resigned yourself to an uncomfortable conversation with the awful man in front of you.
"Of course, it's a pleasure to meet you congressman." Kendall would've been able to tell your polite tone was entirely fake, but the man in front of you smirked proudly at the title, pleased you knew who he was and hoping to score more than financial backing from you this evening.
"The pleasure's all mine." He stretched out the hand that wasn't holding an ornate crystal glass, taking what should have been a courteous handshake way too far as he leant forward to bring his lips to the top of your hand, still curled in a stomach curdling smirk as they pressed against your skin. "Now tell me, exactly how much would I have to invest in Waystar for you to leave this shindig with me tonight?"
"You might have better luck if you don't hit on the date of the richest man in here." Before you could spit out your own retort, you heard the dark drawl of Kendall appearing beside you, face twisted in stoney discontent as the political pawn tried to save face a little.
"Fair enough, I know when I'm beat." He raised his hands in fake surrender as he backed away, but not before throwing a final uncomfortable wink your way, "You know who I am, if you change your mind." You could feel Kendall's hand fall to your lower back in response, trying to keep you in the palm of his hand, as if this disgusting character could actually pull you away from him. Hoping to lighten the tension between the two men before Kendall pulled some strings and ended this man's career, you let out an uneasy laugh,
"Well you've got my vote." You cringed at the hollow chuckle from Kendall beside you as your politician smiled again and stepped off into the crowd, looking for easier prey, leaving you to try and reassure the embodiment of jealousy beside you.
"Kendall, you know-"
"You ready to get out of here?" He cut you off before you could start, the unsettling smile on his face difficult to read as he threaded his fingers through yours and scouted out the nearest lift to take you out of the events hall and up to the hotel suites the Roy family had booked out for the night.
"Yeah, of course, let's go love." You said the final word extra softly, watching the corners of his mouth twitch slightly, unable to contain his warmth at the affectionate pet name, your love the truest thing he'd known in his complex life.
You felt his hand squeeze yours as he led you through the crowd until finally the two of you were alone, the chirpy elevator music cutting through an otherwise tense silence.
"You know I was trying to be polite Ken." You offered reassuringly, Kendall keeping his gaze fixed to the floor numbers illuminating on the touch screen beside you.
"I know honey, it's not your fault men can't fucking stay away from you." His tone was almost vindicative as the doors finally opened on your floor, a sprawling penthouse for just the two of you, another exquisite home away from home for the night.
The moment the doors behind you slid shut, Kendall was on top of you, his teeth clashing against yours with the sheer force of his passion. The crash of his lips took your breath away as his hands found your hips, gripping them tight enough that the silky fabric of your dress bunched in handfuls as he guided your back to the chaise longue that stood at the opening of the suite, the bedroom far too great a distance to travel.
As your lower back met the antique fabric, Kendall's hands skimmed up your the length of your spine, sending shivers through your body as his lips moved hungrily to your neck, a devouring the soft flesh there enough to leave a trail of deep purple lovebites,
"Why is it so fucking hard for everyone to see that you're mine?" Kendall panted into your neck as he pulled the straps of your dress down your shoulders, handling you with rough, frantic movements, his chest heaving against yours as he worked to free you from the satin that came between you.
"I'm all yours Kendall." You breathed out as your dress hit the floor, relishing in the guttural growl the words drew from the still fully-dressed man, drinking in the sight of you as he cupped your cheek in his hand and drew you in for another hungry kiss.
"I know love, I just think we need to make that more obvious." His tongue danced against yours as his eye fluttered shut, shrugging off his jacket as you pushed it from his shoulders. His lips trailed over your chin and down your throat as he sunk to his knees. He sucked and nipped at your exposed skin, his hands running along your sides as his head sank between your breasts before settling at your stomach, peppering the soft curves with kisses as his fingers tugged your panties down your thighs, helping you step out of them so nothing obstructed his perfect view of your body.
"How are we gonna do that?" You questioned absentmindedly as you let the sensation flooding from his sinking kisses run through your veins, his lips inching closer and closer to your tingling centre. You didn't miss the devilish glint in his eye as he paused and looked up at you, face hovering so close to your entrance you could feel his hot breath against your sensitive skin.
"I can think of two ways." He nuzzled his nose softly against your clit and watched the way your body reacted so desperately to his touch, your hips twitching forward and your chest rising as you gasped at the contact. His tongue darted forward to add to the sensation, lapping at the bundle of nerves while one hand snaked up your inner thigh. The moan you let out as he hummed against you only made him happier as his fingers toyed with your slit, now wet with your slick from the way he'd manhandled you. "It's so easy for me to tell you're all mine when you get this wet for me." His fingers dipped inside your entrance as he spoke, you knees all but buckling at the relief in your throbbing core at the contact, the arm of the sofa behind you the only thing keeping you upright.
"All for you Kendall." His name came out entirely in moan as he plunged two of his fingers into you with a frantic rhythm, wanting to get you more than ready to feel the rest of him deep inside you.
"Maybe I should let everyone know just how much you like my fingers inside you by putting a fucking enormous diamond on yours." He watched, enamoured by the way you eyes shot open at his words before clenching shut as his lips found your clit again, bringing you so close to the edge of your pleasure that all you could do was smile and hum in agreement at his words. As he started to feel the familiar tremble of your thighs he pulled his hand away, groaning at the needy whimper that left your lips as he did.
"Ken?" Your eyes were as pleading as your words as you watched him unbuckle his belt, rubbing your thighs together to try and ease some of the frustration that was pulsing in your centre.
"I think the second way is much more fun though." His eyes were dark with desire as he kicked off his dress pants, letting you see his hard length leaking excitedly as he grabbed your hips and helped you fall backwards onto the long loveseat behind you, quickly following suit, kneeling in between your thighs to keep your legs spread for him. He ran his tip through your dripping folds, watching you whine and flinch at the sensation, trying to drive him into action,
"What's the second way to let people know I'm all yours?" Kendall watched your chest rise and fall as you panted out the words, so sensitive from being brought to the edge that his teasing had you writhing around underneath him. Grinning like a devil he finally lined himself up with your entrance, waiting until he spoke to buck his hips harshly into you.
"To get you pregnant. Fuck!" He cried out as slammed his hips against yours, hitting the spot deep inside you that had you arching your back and crying out in agreement. "You'd like that wouldn't you. For everyone to know how well you take my dick. How full I get you."
"Yes daddy," You moaned, overwhelmed by his relentless pace as he fucked hard and fast into you, his hands running over your stomach until they reach your bouncing chest. His hands cupped your breasts, fingertips teasing your nipples as he stared down at you, completely dominating your body.
"Everyone would be able to see these get bigger, and I bet they'd get so sensitive I could have you in tears just playing with your nipples. We can practice you having my lips on them all day until you've soaked through every set of fucking lingerie I've ever bought you." He could see the wide desperation in your eyes as your pleasure climbed again, every pinch and thrust setting every cell in your body alight.
"I'm so close, please." You cried out, volume almost a scream as you begged for your release, Kendall's own thrusts losing rhythm as he fought to make this moment last forever.
"You want me to cum in you? You want me to fill you up and make you lie here until your carrying my seed? Until it's clear to everyone that you're mine forever?" His questions were all but drowned out by the chanting yeses that spill from your lips as your walls clenched around him and your body started to shake with your release.
"Yes Ken, I'm yours forever." You managed to breathe out as the waves of pleasure washed over you, amplified by the incredibly feeling of him spilling inside you, the warmth deep in your abdomen somehow more intense than usual knowing that Kendall's breeding kink had been fully awakened, and he wouldn't satisfied until he'd filled you with as much of him as you could take.
Leaning forward his elbows settled either side of your head, lips meeting yours for a sweet kiss as he repeated the words, "Mine. Forever."
"All yours love." You echoed softly, the devotion in his eye clear as his lips returned to yours again and again, drinking in the sweet taste of your affections.
"You know we're not leaving this room until you're so full of my cum, it's dripping out of you, right?"
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miceonpluto · 1 year ago
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Anomaly 888
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Part 1 Part 2
summary: miguel catches word of an anomaly in universe 888 and sets off to interfere. meanwhile you fumble through the worst patrol day you’ve ever had. disgruntled and discouraged, you make your way home, only to find you’re not the only one there.
word count: 1.8k
••●── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ──●••
“A spider from universe 888 has reported a potential anomaly. She says she’s found a couple of robber guys webbed to walls on scenes she was never at, and witnesses say they remember seeing a black and white suit—Those aren’t our spider’s colors.” Lyla said while hovering above Miguel’s shoulder.
He furrowed his brow and swiped through CCTV footage and multiversal diagnostics and clicked his tongue tentatively. Nothing was out of the ordinary, which in and of itself was unusual. Anomalies were always accompanied with bursts of glitched disaster but nothing in the files Lyla retrieved indicated an anomaly’s presence. “I don’t see any spikes in abnormal frequencies though. Que raro—I’ll check it out. Tell her to stage a robbery and lead the anomaly to 64th street, I’ll keep a close eye from there.”
Lyla blipped over to the communication panel and tapped away. “Done. Anything else?” Miguel’s eyes darted away from her and he huffed.
“Hmmmmmm?” Lyla grinned
“telljesstobeonstandby”
“What was that?”
“Damn it woman! Tell Jess to be on standby! I know you heard me.” He rolled his eyes and fiddled with his teleporter. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Yeah I heard you,” She cackled and kicked her feet as Miguel shrugged her off his shoulder. “she’s already here.”
“Dios mío.” He huffed and disappeared into the light of the portal.
••●── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ──●••
You sat on top of a bodega, swinging your feet, and surveyed the busy street below. You observed tired men with sagging shoulders trudge their way to the subway, old ladies leisurely walking their yappy dogs around the block, giggling kids skipping down the sidewalk. All who people who were too consumed by the mundane to keep up their vigilance. Which is exactly why you were here, “to look after the little guys.” That’s what SpiderWoman said. She was an incredible hero, but she was just one person. One person can’t save everyone. This was a reality you were painfully aware of. Bad people slipped through her webs all the time, and you wanted to help catch them in yours.
The sun set below the skyline, bathing everyone below it in a warm orange glow, and deepening the shadows in the alleyways. You were on high alert now, sitting straighter and prepping yourself to leap down onto the street if need be. You had your eye on a shifty hooded figure who was walking a little too fast and getting a little too close to an unsuspecting woman and her purse. As soon as they were in arms length, they snatched the purse, and bolted around the corner.
You jumped down and tried to catch up. They were more nimble than any other street thief you’ve ever caught. They usually barrel through the crowd, bumping into people and slowing themselves down in the process, but this one expertly skirted through the mob. You realized you’d have to pick up the pace if you wanted to catch them. In an attempt to cover more ground, you shot your web to boost yourself forward, but to no avail. Your web shooter made a weak “shhk ssshk” sound when you tried to shoot them again.
“Shit! Not now! Please, not now!” You groaned while dashing around another corner in pursuit of the thief.
You’d followed them into an alleyway and sighed in relief once you saw it was a dead end. They had just made your job so much easier. “I’m gonna need that back.” You said smugly with your hand on your hip. Though you stood confidently on the outside, internally, you were begging your web shooter to work as you aimed at the purse to yank it back to you. You shot and…it worked! You tucked the purse safely under your arm and aimed at the robber to web them to the wall. Nothing came out. You tried again and the “sshk shhhk” sound was all that followed. “Guess I can’t get lucky twice.” You sighed. The robber shook their head and you could’ve sworn you heard them laugh at you. After peaking out of the alleyway to find the owner of the purse you turned back around to confront the thief. “I wouldn’t laugh now, you’re still cornered-“ But they were gone. “What?!” You ran around frantically looking for where they could’ve gone but there was no trace of them.
“This isn’t good…” You palmed your face and shuffled back into the crowd to give the purse back to the woman. She was gone too. “What is going on right now?” You whined. You’ve had rough days but nothing like this had happened before. All you could think to do was turn in the purse to the closest police station. Of course you couldn’t do that in your suit. You peeled off your mask with a sigh as you slipped out of the suit, leaving you in the spandex bodysuit you’d made. The legs and sleeves had bunched up during the pursuit so you adjusted them until they stretched around you comfortably. After you were assured your suit was fully hidden behind a trash bag in a corner of the alley, you made your way to the station.
“I found this on the sidewalk.” You said as you slid the purse across the desk. The sleepy cop barely glanced at you before grabbing the purse and putting it in a lost-and-found bin behind him. “Thank you. Have a good night.” He muttered gruffly while clacking away at his keyboard. “Yeah, you too.” you responded, already on the way towards the door.
You felt along the wall of the ally until you got to the corner where you left your suit. It wasn’t there. “W-What?” You felt your chest tighten. “No no..nonononono” You frantically grabbed your phone out of your leotards breast pocket and shone the flashlight along the dirty alleyway. Your chest heaved as the white light illuminated trash and fading graffiti, but no suit. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks as you struggled to breathe around the forming lump in your throat. How could this have happened? Why was today going so wrong for you? With your suit gone your patrol was finished for the night. Your web shooter finally decided to work as you swung up to the roof of your apartment, which only made you more frustrated. You landed on top of the gravel with a soft crunch, and you wiped your nose with the back of your hand, sniffling.
As you walked towards the exit door, you heard the ground shift somewhere nearby. You whipped around and flickered your eyes across the roof, searching for what or who disturbed the silence. The city air stood still around you, heavy with the overwhelming feeling that you were being watched, making the hair on your arms prickle. You suddenly felt extremely vulnerable, if someone were here with you, they had the upper hand. Your webslinger had been malfunctioning all day, if something did go wrong, you’d be defenseless. That thought made your stomach churn so you sped to the exit, making your way to your apartment. The dark, damp stairwell made your skin crawl even more so you hurried your way down, faster and faster as the echo of your own footsteps made your heart beat wildly. You made it to your door, hands shaking as you typed in the code to your apartment. As soon as the keypad flashed green, you yanked open the door, slamming it behind you.
Your chest was still pounding and you took a big breath to try and steady yourself. Your suit was gone, and a disappearing criminal was now on the loose. You threw your webslingers onto the tiny kitchen island and held your head in your hands. Why you? Why today? All you’ve ever done is try to help people so why was this happening? You choked back a sob and slunk to your room.
It felt…colder on the way there? Maybe you forgot to close your window earlier. You pushed the door open and hovered your hand above the light switch as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. A tall, dark figure, silhouetted by pale moonlight, loomed over your desk. Its large claws gingerly flipped through the pages in your notebook of blueprints. You tried backing away slowly but the stranger jerked around to face you with an inhumane quickness. Their eyes glowed red and narrowed at you as you instinctively tried to shoot a web at him , completely forgetting that you weren’t wearing your webshooters. “Fuck!” you tried to book it back towards the kitchen but you felt something yank you backwards. You started to scream but with a small flick of the creature's wrist, your mouth was webbed shut. Webs? The only other person you knew with webs was SpiderWoman, and whoever this was clearly wasn’t her. So who was this?
You stood there, wide eyed and petrified of the stranger in your room. They looked you up and down and tilted their head to the side. “You didn’t sense that I was in here?” Their voice was surprisingly smooth, and the baritone rattled you to your core as it broke the silence. You continued to stand there like a deer in headlights.
“No spidersense?” You mirrored the confused tilt they displayed earlier. “Strange.” You stood there staring at them as they continued flipping through your notebook. The red web that tethered you to them hung slack. If you could inch your way towards the window maybe you had a better chance of escaping. As subtly as you could, you planted your feet and got ready to run for it, but as soon as you took your first step, they had your ankles bound. You almost face planted, but they pulled the web taught and you were jolted upright, now dangling a couple inches off the floor.
“Pretty clumsy for a spider.” They sneered, and you caught a glimpse of two very sharp, glimmering fangs. “You’re coming with me.” Your eyes stung with tears and your heart was practically jumping out of your chest. You were being abducted by a demon creature of the night and there was nothing you could do about it. Your head began to spin as you hyperventilated and you felt your consciousness slipping away. In the midst of your blurry vision, you saw them open a duffle bag, toss a few more of your notebooks inside and zip it up. With one arm they hung you over their broad shoulder and secured you there with a web around your back. You wouldn’t be able to get away regardless. You felt pathetic. You heard something click and beep, a low humming sound followed immediately after. The sound got louder, your room suddenly burst with yellow and orange light, soon, you were engulfed in it as the stranger walked on and your world faded to black.
••●── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ──●••
this is my first published fanfic so sorry if the format is a little funky! i’m super excited to keep writing this hehe i’m having so much fun
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loserboyfriendrjl · 3 months ago
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“there has been another attack this weekend, as you may have found out,” their defence the dark arts professor, a woman with waves of dark hair whose name lily hadn’t remembered, still, said. “a whole family has been wiped away from the safety of their own home in leeds.”
“the death eaters,” black said, without even bothering with putting his hand up.
the woman nodded, gravely, and lily saw severus snape’s eyes burning the back of his head; turning around, leaning on the two back legs of his chair, his arm propped up on peter pettigrew’s desk, black returned the ferocious glare.
lily’s hand shot up. “they were muggles. another attack against defenceless muggles.”
once again, the professor nodded. “defenceless, because you cannot save yourself from the killing curse, even as a wix, let alone a muggle. which is why,” she said, and the blackboard turned around to face them, “we will today be discussing the unforgivable curses.”
her hand shot up again, and potter leaned forward against the desk. black smacked his over the head playfully.
“start drooling, won’t you?” she thought she could make out, as the other boy rolled his eyes, sitting himself back in his chair.
“the unforgivable curses are three of the most powerful and sinister spells known to the wizarding world, as well as the strongest known dark spells in existence.” she finally sucked in a deep breath of air. “their usage is enough to send you to azkaban without parole.”
“correct!” the woman exclaimed, putting her hands together. “now,” she said, pointing to the first curse on the board, “we will start with the most horrible one; what is the “avada kedavra” curse?”
“instant death,” severus snape said, not looking at lily.
“you’d know best,” potter whispered loud enough to be heard, and snape sneered, “wouldn’t you, snape?”
before he got to open his mouth, the professor cleared her throat. “alright, that’s enough. yes, the killing curse is, as implied by its name, instant death. it is said to be painless, but no person can defend themselves from it or survive it. now, how about the cruciatus curse?”
“torture,” potter answered, leaning in his chair. “it can lead to insanity if the victim was subjected for too long, and the pain is so unbearable that the victims wish for pain or death instead of having to endure it.”
“very well, mister potter. and, to end this class with the lesson finished, can anyone tell me what the imperius curse implies?”
“control over another person’s actions,” black said, again, without raising his hand, looking positively bored.
“over their whole being,” lily hissed, raising her hand.
“over their whole being, if executed successfully,” he retorted, “because people with exceptional strength of will can resist it.”
“i highly doubt there are enough people in the world to be able to block an unforgivable curse, black,” lily rolled her eyes. “considering the fact they land you a sentence in azkaban without parole and, a lot of the times, without trial.”
“it happens often enough to mention,” he replied, crossing his legs. “because if it didn’t, it wouldn’t be mentioned.”
the bell rang, and their professor dismissed them, not before giving them half a meter of an essay to write, “and don’t make your handwriting bigger just to get off with less writing, i will know!”. lilt lingered around her desk, hoping that she would get to talk to black without looking desperate to do so.
however, he seemed to get the message, as he told his mates to “go on, i have something to do.” he stopped by her desk, and only then did she notice the hoop that pierced through his straight nose.
“can you really fight it off?” she asked, throwing her bag over her shoulder and making her way to the door, black following her suit.
“if you can block it, which requires sheer amounts of willforce and a strong character,” he said, putting his hand into his pocket. “it resembles occlumency, in a way. closing one's mind against legilimency. it’s mind-reading, to succinctly describe it,” he added, as an answer to her confused expression.
lily’s eyebrows raised. “because when you’re imperiused, the caster gets into your head, too.”
black nodded. “it’s one of the darker parts of magic, legilimency, if you ask me. being able to see into a person’s mind, whatever they’re thinking. their memories, their fears, everything else, and it requires a person who’s really talented at it, a good legilimens—”
“oi, mate!” potter shouted. “finish off your nerding about and come on, i’m starving!”
black barked a laugh. “i suppose that’s my cue to go. see you, evans.”
he picked up his pace to get to his mates, and lily watched him go away, her eyebrows furrowing. magic was such a dark, twisted thing, deep under the surface.
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genjispeace · 1 year ago
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Mine - Part 2/2
In which Genji has to prove who you belong to.
tags (this part): afab gender neutral reader, genji x reader, possessive! genji, praise, unprotected sex, slight knife play (no injuries)
a/n: here's part two!! i hope it was worth the wait <3
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You bring your glass to your lips, letting the fruity liquid dance along your tongue. You are one of the agents who has to stay sober tonight, as they always want at least half of the agents to avoid alcohol for the night. You can’t all get wasted right now. Though, if you have to listen to Gale drone on any longer, you may fire back far too many shots once the evening is over. 
“How is your training going? Anything exciting?” Gale asks, taking a sip of his beer. He is one of the ones allowed to drink tonight, and it’s clear he is taking advantage of that. You offer him a strained smile, but he doesn’t seem to notice how fake it is. 
“Nah, nothing too fun,” you reply dryly. 
“Awh, really? I’m sure you’re up to something,” he says with a chuckle, placing his hand on your shoulder. His hand feels slightly clammy through the jacket you have thrown over your shoulders. You chose a red dress for tonight that has a gorgeous slight plunge, but a leather jacket rests over it and keeps you partially hidden. You aren’t shy per se, but hardly bold enough to wear a plunge without covering yourself a little more. Gale runs his hand down your arm, his touch lingering far too long. You don’t dislike him exactly, but he is not the person that you wanted to spend tonight with. No, that person was at the bar last time you saw him. 
Thoughts of Genji fill your mind again. When you saw him at the bar, it took everything in you to not just walk away as Gale was talking to you. Genji wore an all-black suit tonight, matching with the black fabric mask covering the lower half of his face. His hair was pushed back a little, the dark locks framing his face. It’s like Gale could sense that you weren’t able to focus, because he stepped in between you and Genji, blocking your views of each other. 
Gale starts talking again, his hand adjusting your jacket. The back of his hand rubs against one of your breasts, and you fight the instinct to jerk away. You don’t need to cause a scene in front of all of these people, but the urge is still there. 
You sit your drink down and are about to swat him away, a motion you’d surely regret if a sponsor saw it, when another hand flattens against the small of your back. The smell of fresh pine and walnuts fills your senses, and you let out a soft sigh. Genji. 
“Am I interrupting something?” Genji says, but you don’t miss the way his voice is nearly gritty. It’s his metal hand against your back, and you can feel the chill of it through your dress, but his touch is far more welcome than Gale’s. 
“Actually, yeah,” Gale says, his touch still lingering on you. He reaches out further, but you back away slightly. Gale freezes, his brows furrowing. “What?”
“Hm. It seems they don’t think so,” Genji says. You look up to him and find his dark eyes focused on you. He runs his hand up and down your back slowly, letting his touch relax you. 
“And how would you know?” Gale says, taking a step to you. Gale’s eyes darken too, and he runs a hand through his brown hair. 
“It was lovely talking to you, Gale, but I promised Genji a dance before the night ends,” you say. It’s a lie, and you and Genji both know it. Yet, he doesn’t falter or give any reaction to the lie. 
“Is that so?” Gale says, his voice sharp with bitterness. He takes another step forward, and you go to back away, but Genji steps in front of you. It’s a slight movement, only a few inches, but it doesn’t go unnoticed to anybody.
“Walk away,” Genji warns, but Gale is too drunk to listen. He tries to reach you, but Genji moves again. His hand leaves your back and he stands fully in front of you. You hear a metallic clicking, and notice the fingers on Genji’s metal hand twitching. Your brows furrow. Why is Genji being this protective? Of course you’re thankful he’s helping you escape the conversation with Gale, but this feels like…more. 
“Consider this your final warning. Touch them again and I’ll cut your hand off,” Genji says quietly. Your eyes widen at the threat, and that’s when you realize what the clicking noise is. Genji is unsheathing his shurikens. 
“Whatever,” Gale says, taking another swig of his beer and walking away. He probably thinks Genji is also intoxicated, but you know better. Both of you were to stay sober tonight. Another set of clicks fills the air before Genji turns to face you. You start to say something, but his hand wraps around your wrist and he starts to pull you out of the room. He moves silently, but you have to almost jog to keep up with him. 
“Genji, what the hell?” You whisper as soon as you are away from most of the party. There are still a few stragglers in the hallways, but most of them are too drunk or distracted to notice either of you. Your heels click on the tile floor as you follow, leaving the wing of the headquarters that the event was held in. 
“Genji!” You say, now far enough away from anybody to be heard. You look around as he pulls you along, and notice where he is leading you. He’s going even further away from the event, toward the living quarters of the agents. You stop in your tracks, yanking your hand out of his grasp. You don’t have to worry about causing a scene here. 
“What the hell? Have you lost your mind?” You say. Genji turns to face you, closing the distance between the two of you until you’re mere inches from each other. 
“Do you have any idea how hard it was to not break his hand for touching you?” Genji growls, making you frown. 
“Why do you care so much that he touched me? I could have handled that,” you say. You probably could have gotten away from Gale eventually.
“He was flirting with you.” Genji says, his eyes as dark as they were before. 
“Why do you care?” You ask.
“Did you flirt back?” Genji asks. Your heart jumps.
“Does it matter?” You spit out. You’re so confused right now, and it’s starting to get frustrating. Why is he acting like this? And more importantly, why are you getting butterflies over him being protective?
Genji takes another step forward, and you back away, until your back hits the wall. Genji leans against the wall, his arms trapping you. You look up to see his eyes watching you carefully. 
“Answer me,” he says, and you don’t miss how soft his voice sounds now, like he’s practically scared of your answer. 
“No, I didn’t flirt back. I have no interest in Gale?” You finally tell him.
“Good.” Genji says, the edge back to his voice. 
“Wha-” You start, but your voice catches in your throat when Genji grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him again. He yanks open a door just a few feet away and pulls you in, slamming and locking it behind you. A soft white bed sits against a back wall. You’re in one of the guest rooms. Why would he bring you here? “Genji, what are you doing?” You turn to face him. 
“Something I should have done a long time ago,” he replies, and it’s the only warning you get before he crosses the distance and cups your face with his hands. You can’t help the way you melt into his touch, even if your mind is spinning. He guides you until your back is against the wall again, and lowers his face to your neck. 
“Tell me no and I stop. You can walk out this room, and we will pretend this never happened,” Genji whispers into your ear. You shudder at his words, but shake your head. If he’s doing what you think he’s about to do, it’s something you have wanted for a long time too.
“I’m not leaving,” you say. 
Genji moves quickly. He always does. In the time it takes you to blink, he has his mask pulled down and his lips pressed against your neck. A soft gasp escapes you at the feeling, and you melt into it. It all finally falls into place. The protectiveness, the anger at Gale, all of it.
Genji’s mouth leaves your neck and falls onto your lips. You whimper into the kiss. His kiss is unlike any other. It’s somehow soft and possessive at the same time. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip and you gasp, which he takes as the opportunity to dip his tongue into your mouth. You fight for dominance once, but he shuts it down quickly. Genji is in charge now. 
His hands run up your body until he’s pushing your jacket off. You let it fall to the ground, relishing the way his touch feels on your now bare skin. He pulls away from you, breaking the kiss and leaving both of you gasping for breath. 
“Fuck,” he whispers. You follow his gaze, which is taking in your entire figure. It catches on your curves, everything highlighted by the dress. You feel your cheeks heat at his undivided attention on your body, and you’re sure they are a shade of red that rivals the color of your dress now. 
“Genji,” you say softly. He looks back up to you, his eyes wild. His mask is off now, probably somewhere discarded on the floor. You’ve seen him without it before here and there, but he’s usually not so open about it being off. He watches you as you cup his face now, running your fingers along his scars. He should be the one getting fawned over right now. You pull his face down and lock your lips together again. One of your hands traces around his neck and into his hair, pulling softly. He grunts into the kiss, then slams you back against the wall. 
“I want to ruin you,” he whispers. “Let me be your man. Let me make you mine.” 
“Please,” you whisper back. Genji lets out a deep breath, like he was waiting on your answer, then he springs into movement. Your head spins as he grabs you by the hips and turns you, pushing you down against the bed. You lay back as he stands over you and shrugs his suit jacket off above you, and you can’t help but stare at the way his lean muscles flex under the fabric. 
“How expensive was this dress?” He asks, shocking you out of your trance. You frown, confused by the sudden question. 
“Uhh…” You try to answer, but your line of thought is cut off by another sound of metallic clicking. Genji reaches behind himself, and he pulls a short blade out from his waistband. In the time it takes for you to blink, the blade swipes across the dress in multiple spots. Goosebumps rise on your now nearly bare skin. 
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he says, and you look down at what was your dress. Now, it is merely shreds of red fabric falling off of your body. Yet, there is not a single scratch on you. Genji’s eyes track your body, now in just a bra and underwear. You feel bare compared to him being still fully clothed.
“So pretty, little angel,” he whispers out. You don’t have time to question the pet name, before the blade is slicing through the air again, your bra now cut down the middle and open to bare your breasts. 
“Genji!” You gasp out. Once again, there is not a single scratch on you, but the danger of it still makes your heart race and warmth to spread between your legs. 
“Breathless for even my blades, hm?” Genji asks, his gaze lowering to where you clench your thighs together. Of course he would notice that. 
“Please don’t tease me,” you say. Genji smiles at you, a genuine smile where you can even see a hint of a dimple, before he takes his blade to his own shirt, cutting it open. You watch in awe as more of him is revealed. You’ve seen him in short sleeves in training, but never like this. His metal hand goes up to his arm and part of his torso, but the rest is skin. His waist is flesh as well and your mouth waters at the sight. He drops the extra shurikens he had in his suit to the ground, along with the scraps of what was his shirt. 
His blade falls to the ground, and he leans over you and presses his lips softly to yours. It’s a stark contrast to his blade, but you crave both the softness and roughness in a way that you should question. But you don’t. 
The ghost of a kiss is gone quickly, and he is moving to press soft kisses against your neck. He stops at your pulse point, sucking softly on the skin, which elicits a whimper from you. How can his mouth feel so good on just your neck? 
“You’re mine, little angel,” he says against your skin, then bites down. You let out a soft yelp at the pain, but it eases into pleasure quickly. He licks over the bite mark, and you know it is going to bruise. He’s marking you, and the thought of wearing bruises from him makes you squirm. 
“Yours,” you whimper back. He continues sucking on your neck, but one of his hands drifts down and skates softly over your underwear. A shudder runs through your body at his ghost of a touch and you feel him smile against your neck. 
“So needy,” Genji whispers against your skin. “So ready for my touch.”
You start to respond, but all words are lost when his hand plunges below your underwear and the metal grazes your skin. It brings a chill to you, but it’s nowhere near cold enough to quell the burn in your skin. You gasp as he runs his hand slowly up your core, your back arching into him. Genji tuts. 
“So fucking wet for me, and I’ve barely touched you,” he says, teasing a finger around your clit. It, combined with his mouth still on your neck, is enough to make you gasp, but it’s still not enough. 
“Genji,” you say his name, but it sounds shaky on your ears. You hear him growl against your neck, then feel his arm jerk and the sound of fabric ripping fills the room. A chill lingers into your skin, and it doesn’t take you long to realize that Genji ripped your underwear off. 
“I should fucking destroy you, little angel. Make you brainless for me,” he says, biting down on your skin again. You groan, his words going straight to your core. 
“Please, Genji. I’ve only ever been yours to destroy,” the words barely leave your lips before Genji is off of you, grabbing onto your ankles and pulling you to the edge of the bed. You squeal at the sudden movement, your breasts bouncing with it. Genji’s gaze zeros in on that, before he drops to his knees. 
You start to close your legs, your slight shyness taking over, but his hands wrap around your thighs. You try to overpower him, but there’s no point as he pulls your legs back apart and looks at your core. You squirm under his gaze, until he slaps the skin of your thigh lightly, but it’s enough to send a message. 
“Let me look at you,” he says. You obey him and stop trying to hide from his gaze, instead watching the way he looks at you. And…damn. He looks at you like you’re a piece of artwork in the Louvre. Exquisite, everything he’s dreamed of, everything he wants. 
A smirk takes place on his face, and his hands are on you again. He pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, until he is able to press kisses to the inside of your thighs. The kisses are soft, but quick, and the higher they get, the more the anticipation grows in your stomach. He’s so fucking close to where you need him that it almost hurts. 
Finally, his mouth reaches your core and he presses a soft kiss to it. It’s barely anything, but it’s still enough to make you shiver. Genji picks up on the reaction, and gives you more, kissing and licking at your sex. The tension starts to build in your stomach quickly, and you reach down to tangle your hand in his hair. 
He starts sucking on your clit as well, and the motion makes you tug slightly at strands of his hair. He growls against your core, and the vibrations are enough to make you cry out. You need more, more, more. 
It’s a plea Genji somehow picks up on and eagerly listens to, and he adds a finger into the mix, slowly pumping in and out. It only takes a few more strokes like that to have you on the edge, and Genji picks up on the way you tighten around him. He picks up his speed, his mouth continuing to work on your clit. He’s treating you like he knows your body just as well as he knows the back of his hand. He flattens his tongue against your clit and curls his finger inside you, and it’s enough to make you fall apart. You moan, maybe scream, out his name as your orgasm rocks your body. It’s damn near holy the way he makes your head spin and your thighs shake. 
His spare arm wraps around your thigh and steadies your shaking as he continues lapping at your core. Dots litter your version and your brain goes to static as he keeps going. More, more, more. Your legs shake so hard that Genji has to pin one of them against the bed. He continues to overstimulate you, and your body responds all too well to him. Another orgasm comes on faster, the heat curling in your core. He’s brutal, unrelenting, and you love it. Your body loves it too, clearly, as you come on his fingers again. 
“Genji,” you say. Your brain spins from the release and you pant loudly. Genji eases up on you, but presses a few more soft kisses to your core. He eventually pulls away and stands, looking down on you. He brings his metal hand to his mouth, dipping his two fingers into his mouth and licking you off of his own fingers. You groan at the sight, wishing his mouth was back on you. He’s far too good with that mouth. 
“If you thought I was going to go easy on you, you’re mistaken, little angel,” he says. You shudder at the promise. He’s already partially fulfilled it, and you’re already addicted. Your body is already buzzing for more. 
“I don’t want you to go easy on me,” you mutter out. A smile takes place on his face, a slight dimple showing as he looks down at you. 
“That’s my angel,” he says. Part of you wants to question the pet name, but you are also scared that he would stop calling you that, and you definitely don’t want that. He doesn’t break eye contact as he undoes his belt with one hand and pulls it from the loops, tossing it aside with the rest of the clothes. God, he’s so irresistible.
He drops his pants and underwear in one swift movement, and your breath catches as you see him finally naked. You have always wondered if he was metal or flesh there, but been too afraid to ask. You get your answer now. Flesh, human, big. 
He doesn’t waste any time lining up at your entrance, and his dark eyes flick up to you to watch as he enters. Each inch stretches you out until you’re arching into his body, and he digs one hand into your hip. You whimper out against his size, the burn mixing with the pleasure in a way that has you nearly begging for more.
Once you have both adjusted enough, he starts to move. It’s slow at first, but it’s still enough to make your skin buzz. He’s divine, stretching you in a way that makes you feel like you’re experiencing Heaven on Earth. His hands dig into your hips, hard. You know there will be bruises there later, but the pain melds with the pleasure. It’s delectable, and you will happily wear his bruises. 
“God, you’re fucking incredible,” Genji says in between grunts. “Like you were made for me.”
He reaches his hand in between the two of you, his metal fingers starting to toy with your clit. How he is able to perfectly work you without even looking should be studied. He has you turning to mush in mere minutes. 
“You better scream out my name, baby. Let them all know who is fucking you so well,” he says as you start nearing another climax. Your hands find their way to his back, your nails digging in deeply. You know it hurts, but Genji hardly reacts. Maybe he likes the idea of wearing your bruises. 
“Genji,” you say softly, pleading. 
“Hm? Who is fucking you like this? Who do you belong to?” He says again, a smirk taking place as he picks up his pace. Your climax approaches fast, the burn curling through your core and making your legs shake. You toss your head back and dig your nails in even harder. 
“Genji!” You scream out, your voice breaking as your orgasm takes over. It hits you hard, making your visions be spotted with black and your brain short-circuit. You can’t think about anything, your brain blank except for the feeling of him fucking you. You whimper through the orgasm, your body still shaking as he keeps going. You didn’t think it was possible, but this one hit you harder than any others, from anybody. 
Genji is still unrelenting, chasing his own high. He starts to get sloppy, his grunts inconsistent. Your orgasm, your voice screaming his name, must have had more of an impact on him than he thought it would. You hold onto him as he continues thrusting into you, your hand running up and down his spine. It’s your turn to take care of him. 
“Come for me, Genji,” you coo softly. “I’m yours. Make me yours.”
Your soft voice makes him moan out, and he drops his head into the crook of your neck, his thrusts even sloppier. His composure is slipping, and it’s delectable. You clenching around him, cooing his name, your touch on him, it’s enough for his composure to fall away completely, and his orgasm to rock over him. He drops onto one arm, still partially on top of you. His hand still digs into your hips, your hand still traces up and down his spine. The two of you stay like that for a while, breathless and holding each other. It’s intimate, and you love it. 
Genji does start moving eventually, though. He gets up and disappears into the bathroom, bringing back a cloth and cleaning you. It’s a good thing he does because you probably can’t get up right now if you tried. He carefully touches you, taking his time to make sure you are taken care of. You smile at him, your heart jumping in your chest as you watch him. God, you’re screwed. 
“Genji?” You say.
“Hm?” He says as he tosses the cloth onto the pile of clothes on the ground. He moves to the side of the bed and crawls in, pulling you into his arms. You snuggle into his chest, his scent filling your nostrils. 
“Are we…” You start, then a bitter laugh escapes you. How are you supposed to ask this? Genji tightens his grip on you, pulling you closer into his chest, and you lay against him. 
“Little angel, when I said that you’re mine, I meant it,” Genji says, his voice low. You shudder at it, the words feeling like a promise. “Whatever title you want to call me. I’m yours, just as you’re mine.”
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rosewaterandivy · 6 months ago
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Cathedrals
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Summary: In the cathedrals of New York and Rome / There is a feeling that you should just go home
Pairing: past s.h. x f!oc
W.C.: 1.8k
Warnings: angst, rich people being, you guessed it, rich, sad boy steve, actor!steve, rockstar!reader
hit me like a hook of the right m.list
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“Hey,” He says, stepping next to you in the Sackler wing as you eye the Temple of Dendur.
It’s a rare moment to yourself in an otherwise packed event. You sigh and take a sip from your champagne, thinking that maybe if you stay silent long enough you can simply will this moment away.
He looks good, but it’s not hard for a man to do at the Met Gala— show up in a tailored suit with an appropriate accessory and call it a day. His hair is longer, starting to curl at the nape of his neck in a way that makes you want to run your fingers through it.
“Hi,” You allow, keeping your gaze forward on the blocks of stone.
And there’s a million things you could say to him right now, but the most pressing and the one you will absolutely not bring yourself to ask is this: why did you let me go?
You’d rather not have to deal with tears after all the hard work Lisa an her team did on your face. Instead, you keep your eyes forward and take a steadying breath.
“You look good.”
You hum, as if in thought; not accepting the compliment but not out right denying it either. Because yeah, you know you look good— great, even after the past few months without him. And it’s not as drastic as changing your hair and dropping weight, but you’re healthy; you’re good.
The dull accompaniment of people meandering around the wing has fallen to a hush. Sure strides sound out against the pristine floors as a familiar hand falls to the small of your back. Part of you wants to lean into it, into him, all broad chest and the familiar scent of bergamot and spice.
Steve stiffens and takes another sip from his drink, ice clinking in the crystal glass.
The hand winds its way around your hip to settle against your stomach, warm and inviting. The scrape of his stubble against your hairline as he dips down to whisper in your ear sends a shiver through you.
“Ready to go?”
His lips, pink and full, graze the shell of your ear as you nod and turn in his grasp. He drops a kiss to your forehead and holds your glass as you crumple the fabric of your train in your grasp.
“Oh,” You say, taking a step toward the mezzanine. “This is my friend, Steve Harrington.”
He stops at your side, offering you an arm for balance that you gladly take, and goes to shake his hand.
“Nice to meet you man,” He says, pumping Steve’s hand in a firm shake. “I’m Sebastian.”
“I, uh,” Steve eloquently replies, eyes flitting between you and your escort. “Yeah, nice to meet you too.”
Greetings aside, Sebastian smiles at you and tosses over his shoulder, “See you in there!” His free hand wrapped around your waist as the pair of you navigate yourselves to the table for dinner.
A refreshed drink awaits you, thankfully, as you settle the skirt and train around your chair. Polite greetings and acknowledgements are made at the table as the first course arrives, but you can’t bring yourself to eat.
His hand is warm through the layers of tulle, organza, and silk against your thigh, a subtle squeeze every so often that says I’m here, I’ve got you.
Blue eyes, like storm at sea, meet yours as he takes a sip from his drink. And it must be clear from the expression on your face that something isn’t quite right. His fingers twine with yours and rest against his thigh, his thumb rubbing in circles on your hand.
There’s several courses to go, plus the schmoozing present at every industry event. You have a phone hand-off to do with the Loewe girls, and then there’s the after parties. Thank god you’re not performing this year— small miracles.
Picking up your fork, you make an effort to push some food across your plate as Alessandro speaks in rapid fire Italian to your right. You responses are polite and infrequent, you hear him mutter something like, “Cara mia,” before someone approaches your table.
“Sorry to interrupt,” He says, as your blood runs cold. “But could I just borrow her for a minute?”
Alessandro looks at you, dramatic eyebrow raise and everything, while Sebastian sits, seemingly unaffected.
“Well,” Your date replies, “I suppose that’s up to her.”
As if this night could get any worse.
Polishing off your drink, you quickly stand— the sooner you get this dealt with, the better. You give Alessandro an eye roll as you turn to go, pausing to kiss Seb on the lips.
“Be back in five,” You say, thumb grazing against his jawline. “Get me another drink?”
He nods, assured, and drops your hand only when forced, the distance growing between you.
Steve leads you back towards the Rockefeller wing, not stopping his stride until you’re in the Greco-Roman corner, stood in front of the marble statue of Aphrodite.
Your feet ache, your heels this evening weren’t exactly chosen with comfort in mind, and suck in breaths like nobody’s business— the bodice of your gown suddenly feeling tight.
“What do you want Steve?”
He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated, and stares at the statue before him. Like he can’t even look you in the eye.
And then, he laughs.
“Are you shitting me?”
His tone is cutting, incredulous, and cruel.
You cross your arms and don’t dignify his question with a response. As if he has any right to ask that of you.
“I mean, he’s not— You’re not—” He keeps cutting himself off, fearing the words may be true if he comes out and just says it.
“Together?”
Steve drops his hand from his hair and turns. Fuck. That was not a good idea.
You look amazing, you always do, and you’re definitely going to end up on a Best Dressed list of some kind for the evening. He’s heard enough rumblings to know you’re wearing something archival and looking damn good doing it.
You don’t take a step closer, nor do you look at him.
And, okay, he can admits that stings a little.
“That’s none of your business.”
Your voice is soft, but echoes in the cavernous wing nonetheless.
“Yeah,” He sighs, “I guess not.”
He just can’t wrap his head around it– you’re, well you, a Grammy-award winning artists who tours the globe and headlines things like Coachella. How can you be with someone like that? I mean, does this guy even know what Coachella is?
“What?” Your voice breaks the uncomfortable silence, “Your face is doing that thing Steve; what could you possibly want to say to me about my presumed relationship?”
“He’s just so…” Steve trails off, there really is no eloquent way to say this. “Old.”
Your scoff is loud and the expression on your face is— well, one he hasn’t exactly seen before. And he can’t say he likes being on the receiving end of it.
“Wow,” You say, stepping back and hitching your skirt in hand. “Sorry I’m not out there fucking every twenty-something that moves, Harrington.”
And yeah, he deserves that.
“But then again,” You toss over your shoulder as you turn to leave, “Babysitting was always more your forte.”
The red bottoms of your heels click as you walk away, back to the party and your date.
Steve feels like an idiot.
The plan was to play it cool and friendly, ask how you’d been and hopefully lead up to some sort of conversation. Instead, he got jealous. Saw the way someone who is not him wrapped his arm around you and how you sank back into him, comfortable, safe.
Saw the way he looked at you, bemused and adoring, the way he anticipated your movements and held your drink. And then, at dinner, how you smiled fondly at something he’d said or done, hands intertwined on his thigh.
And it was as if Steve’s chest was caving in. He couldn’t stop himself from walking over there under some false pretense, for just another moment of your time. How unaffected this man was, not even threatened by his current lover’s former lover, how he deferred to you and your decision.
Part of Steve wondered what that must be like, to be so secure in yourself and your relationship. Was that something that came with age, experience, or both? It did nothing to assuage the anger in his gut, even as you followed him out of the mezzanine and to the far corner of the main floor of the Met.
He wanted to say so many things, to ask if this man even knew where or what your favorite piece was in here. It was all he could think about during the red carpet and press line earlier this evening, how the two of you had somehow managed to go incognito one day last summer, before everything fell to shit.
How you’d spent hours at the Met, walking from one exhibit to the next. Talking about artists and color in hushed tones. You had never been much for religion, but you treated museums with more reverence than most penitents in a cathedral. How casually you’d asked his opinion on things he knew nothing about, reassured him that art wasn’t about critiquing schools or technique, but rather how it made you feel.
You’d drug him to the European paintings on that day, fingers slotted against his, tugging him along. Spoke softly about Buoninsegna’s Madonna and Child and it stuck him how small it was in comparison to the larger works, like Degas and Rembrandt. There were scorch marks from candles along the bottom of the frame, and you’d said it was because this was a piece in someone’s home– a personal altar.
People would pass it each and every day going about their lives, lighting candles in commemoration of the Virgin Mother and her Christ child. He remembers how you looked, awestruck underneath your ballcap, as if you were seeing it for the first time.
“Art should be for the people,” You’d said then, “The public. Things like this,” You’d gestured around the room, “Aren’t meant to be bought at Sotheby’s and displayed in millionaires homes alongside a Chagall or Kandinsky.”
And he’d agreed with you, he still does now.
So when he finds himself in front of the very same painting, Steve’s not all that surprised. As he studies the child’s hand, how how to seems to brush aside his mother’s veil, he wonders:
Does he know your favorite piece? How you like to loudly discuss that the artifacts from Greece, Egypt, Africa, and Asia should be returned to their ancestral homes, that it’s nothing more than theft that fills the coffers of museums? Does he, wrongly, assume that you prefer the ballerinas of Degas or a girl with a pearl earring?
Does he know you as well as Steve does did?
He knows he won’t get answers, and that he’s torturing himself by even thinking of them, of you. Steve sighs and leaves the empty exhibit room, wondering what he’d do if this feeling was to ever abate.
Afterall, how can he be homesick for a home that he has no right to call his own?
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kainereee · 7 months ago
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I'm not as big into twst anymore unfortunately but I will always have a soft spot for leovil and talking ab it w my close friend <3 sparked some points of elaboration I wish I could have explored w them more
I think they're a well-suited pair. In the one sense, they contrast just right in a way that can push and drive each other forward. The obvious is the way that Vil is someone whose way of showing love essentially is making you the best kind of person you can be. I can't pick any moments off the top of my head but Vil is someone who can drive Leona to look in different directions where the path he originally sought was closed off. Vil is someone undeterred by failure on the whole — it is not a road block but a stepping stone for him. And I think being around energy like that can really help someone like Leona.
I say drive each other specifically because I think Leona would be good for Vil in two senses. First, I think he could get Vil to chill tf out LMFAO. As admirable as Vil's drive and ambition is, like anything in life, in excess it can get self-destructive. While Leona isn't a self-help advocate per say and his nonchalance is formed from a place of lethargy, I still think having someone to pull you back when you're pushing yourself too far is nice. In the second sense, I think that Leona would be good for Vil because he doesn't give him pretty words. Vil is incredible, Vil is one of the best if not the best — but sometimes when you reach the top it can be hard to find ways to continue to improve. You face a plateau of sorts which can be frustrating. And if everyone is telling you you're beautiful, gorgeous, amazing, talented wonderful all the time ( which he is ) then that can only add to it. Of course there's Rook who keeps a critical eye, but to have someone to butt heads with and challenge you is also something I feel like Vil would find important.
With all these positives though I think there should be something said about the ways it could all go wrong ofc, and I quite enjoy the concept of leovil being together in the 1st year and having a messy divorce where they now share custody of Epel /lhj
I think there's something to be said about being in a relationship with people with depression. And I don't mean this in the sense people with mental health issues can't be in relationships because that would be ridiculous to say, but if they can be debilitating to a person of course they're going to affect parts of the relationship. Like I said earlier, I think Vil's love language is helping you to become the best person you can be. I think when they were together this would be something Vil would do for Leona in his own way — not in the sense of coddling him, because Vil is a tough love kinda gal. But it's difficult to help someone who does not let you help them/has difficulty with you helping them. Not only that but in the general sense it can be heartbreaking to see someone you love and care for slowly debilitate over time and it seems like there's nothing you can do for them.
On the flip side of this, I think Vil's pushing would be a point of contention for Leona. This isn't to say that Vil isn't understanding and wouldn't try to understand at times, but Vil is very much a tough love person. Vil gives me the impression that where you have a problem with your life the first step to achieving happiness is fixing it. Dwelling on failure and the past will do you no good and while this is true I think sometimes Leona doesn't want a solution. I think sometimes you just want someone to hear you, to listen to you. And sometimes even when the solution is so clear depression makes it so you just can't. You can't do it. It's not a matter of you being weaker or less capable but it is still a mental illness and it can be devastating.
Anyways I just think leovil are super neat and I think that leona is vil's babygirl who wants arms to curl up into in the dark of night as to not be alone with his thoughts <33 he'd also make a great housewife imo but that's not relevant
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noname-nonartist · 4 months ago
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Okay, dude, I need to ask
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WHAT does Megumi mean by what he thought about HONAMI????
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Heheheheheeee~
Time for another pjsk+jjk AU Lore droppppp~ X3c
(Explaination under the cut)
TW: Topic contains suicide/suicidal thoughts
Hmmm where to beginnnnnn…
Okay! Gonna fast forward some explanation/context!
So like I have it so Megumi form a pseudo-unit group with Yuuji, Junpei, and Yuuta, right? (It should be note that only Yuuji is aware of Megumi’s Sekai, not Yuuta or Junpei)
Well.
The group broke up lol (by the end of the 2nd Arc Ender, timeline wise).
It’s due to a couple of things why the group didn’t work out, however, the final straw was when Yuuji finally put his foot down and leave the group himself after learning that Megumi fought Akito (Megumi also ripped out one of his ear piercings too hence why Akito is missing an earring in the Post 3rd Arc diagram).
Again, I’m summarizing a LOT. Since there’s a lot I have planned for this Break-Up Group Arc. Since like there’s a whole character growth and a bunch of actions that Megumi has done that led Yuuji to make the tough decisions to leave.
(That could be a whole different post if ya wanna know more lol)
ANYWAY!
So Yuuji told Megumi he’s leaving, which caused Megumi to be in this sort of… haze? For a bit as he walks home from school. He then stops by a bridge that’s overlooking the river and start reflecting a bit of what has happened in the past few days. However, Megumi’s mindset be self-deprecating and in general he’s not in a great place mentally too. So like he be looking pretty dead in the eyes. (Doesn’t help that Megumi still has the bruises he got on his face from his fight with Akito)
Honami happens to be around walking her dog, Shibao, since it’s her normal dog walking route she takes every evening. And when she notices Megumi, she was genuinely worried that Megumi was about to jump off the bridge, since the looks in her eyes be sad. Similar to how her eyes were when she too feel suicidal as well. Hence she rushed towards him to stop him, even though in reality he wasn’t gonna jump (but the idea did briefly came).
For those who don’t know. Honami in cannon used to feel suicidal as well. As seen in Kanade’s initial 3 star card’s side story.
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And within this AU of mine, Honami actually try to attempt suicide during her junior high years but was saved by Shibao. (Yes, this idea is basically just straight up from this fanfic. It’s a good read. I highly recommend reading it, for it does a good job portraying Honami’s thoughts)
I even wrote a little scene on Honami’s and Megumi’s first meeting too (it’s not that great, writing was never my strong suit. But it got the general vibes that I was trying to aim for lol)
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The sky is a mix of purples and oranges as the sun is setting down.
Megumi is on a bridge with bruises still on his face from the fight he had with Akito the other day. Cars rush by as he looks over at the river with his music blasting in his headphones to drown out the surroundings noises.
He thinks back to Akito’s words that was shouted when Toya hold a steady arm in front of the orange hair boy. “You never cared for Yuuji. You only cared about yourself!”
When Akito said that, Megumi was tempted to lunged at him again for another beating if it wasn’t for the fact that Nobara blocking his way and An holding him back.
Now Megumi, abandoned, is standing at the bridge wondering on what exactly did Akito meant.
Megumi, deeply cares for Yuuji. Doesn’t he?
Yuuji was the only good thing left to him for his sister was still in a coma.
But… then again… even when she was conscious, he wasn’t grateful for his sister…
Is that what he meant?
But… Megumi was grateful to Yuuji. But then why did he still leave…
He tried to make sure that Yuuji was safe and away from any negative influences with the likes of Junpei, Rui, Yuuta, and Akito.
Was there… was there something innate in him that cause people he care for to leave?
Megumi’s eyes darkened with that thought…
Honami is spending her daily evening walking her dog, Shibao, on her normal route over the bridge to look at the beautiful river during the sunset. It’s a good way to end the day with such a view.
As Honami starts humming one of her band’s song, her eyes caught on to a figure over the distant.
She at first thought that he was simply over looking the view, but as Honami got closer, she noticed the bruises on his face…
And… the dead look in his eyes.
The same as hers when…
Honami dropped Shibao’s leash, much to the confusion to the golden Shiba, and start running.
She rushes to the unknown figure she knows nothing about, but she knew.
The look in his eyes tells her everything.
She knew that if she doesn’t do something now, it’ll forever haunt her.
When she saw the teen, whose looks to be around her age too, leaning over the railing, she runs even harder.
She got to reach him.
Hurry.
Hurry!
Hurry!!!
Please!!!
Don’t!!!
“Don’t Do It!!!”
Megumi was shocked when someone ran into him and grabbed his arm. The momentum from the collision caused his headphones to fall off just in time to hear the girl’s desperate plead.
As his headphones clanked loudly onto the concrete sidewalk, the two teens stared at each other with wide eyes.
Honami breathing deeply to catch her breath as Megumi looked bewildered at the sudden appearance of someone he has never met before.
“Don’t…” Honami finally huffed out, “Don’t jump…”
Megumi blinked.
“I… I know it’s may seems like a good solution, but it’s not. You-“
Oh. Megumi thought. She thought I was going to…
“I wasn’t going to jump.”
“Huh?”
“I not going to jump off. I was just thinking…” Megumi reiterated.
“Oh.”
Honami gently lets go of Megumi’s arm as she sighed a relief out.
“Oh, thank goodness.”
From a distance, Megumi hears a dog barking as it heads over to their direction.
“Shiboa!” The tall girl turns around to greet her dog back, but as she did so her legs start to give out due to the adrenaline leaving her body.
As she abruptly sits on to the floor, Megumi just look as her dog whimpers up towards the girls to make sure its owner is alright.
Megumi would be lying if the thought of jumping didn’t come through his mind. But if he did that then Yuuji would be deeply hurt. And what about Tsumiki? He doesn’t want her to be left alone once she wakes up.
If she ever wakes up…
No.
Megumi shakes his head. Now is not the time for that.
“Um…” Megumi awkwardly begins.
Honami stops petting her dog as she looks up.
“…what… What breed of dog do you have? It looks like it’s a Shiba…”
Honami eyes brightened as bit, “You’re correct! He is a Shiba, his name is Shibao. Are you a dog owner too?”
Megumi puts a hand on his neck to relieve some of the awkward energy his extruding, “Um. Yeah. Two of them. Both Huskies…”
“What are their names?”
“Ash and Luna.” Megumi answer as he kneel down, “Can I pet your dog?”
“Of course you can.” Honami smiles softly, “He’s very friendly.”
As Shibao sniffs the boy’s hand, the golden dog quickly jumps up onto him.
Megumi couldn’t contain his smile as the shiba starts licking his face.
“He seems to like you very much.” Honami said with such a warmth that Megumi hasn’t experienced in a long while.
Megumi hums a bit as he gently push Honami’s dog back down.
He turns to the girl. “Do you walk around here often?”
“Hm? Oh, yes I do. I normally walk Shibao through here during the evenings.”
“Hmph. I hope you don’t stay out for too long since Shibas tends to have a lot of energy.” Megumi commented.
“Oh don’t worry, the route I take is very safe, even when it’s gets a bit dark too.”
Megumi hums to that as he continues to pet the still excited shiba.
Honami looks at Megumi’s softened expression and then a thought came to her.
“How about we both walk our dogs together?”
“Huh?”
“I know that huskies also have a lot of energy. And usually after our walks, Shibao is so exhausted that he lays down for the rest of the day!”
Megumi paused a bit as he thinks about the girl’s offer. On one hand, he prefers to walk his dogs alone. But… his own walking route hasn’t been too stimulating for Ash and Luna. And he’s honestly a bit curious about the girl herself…
“That… actually does sound nice.”
Honami smiles, “Then let’s find a good day to walk together. My name is Mochizuki Honami, and you are…?”
Megumi stands up. As he brush up he dust and fur off of him, he looks right at Honami, who’s surprisingly a bit taller than him, and says-
“Fushiguro Megumi.”
Her eyes soften, “It’s nice to meet you, Fushiguro-san.”
Megumi just hums in response with a subtle nod of his head.
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But yeahhhh. That’s how they first metttt~ :3c
I think Megumi would be a bit curious if Honami too has thoughts about committing suicide as well. Hence the first impression comment.
I’m actually going to have Megumi and Honami to have a pretty deep and good friendship (and shortly after Leo/Need as a whole being good friends with Megumi) that actually helps Megumi grow and becoming a better person. :Dc
It’s about time for Megumi to have a positive character arc~ :3c
And like. Megumi and Honami could bond over their self-esteem issues and their suicidal thoughts too. No? •3•
Megumi and Honami Friendship Go!
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