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#and so. of course. was very quickly and very rudely reminded that I am Not A Painter
myname-isnia · 6 months
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I had a moment of weakness and now regret it terribly because it has turned into just A Moment which means if I don’t get out of my head right now I will be miserable for the rest of the evening
#I was overcome with the sudden urge to paint#mind you I have not picked up a paintbrush since June#and before that since November#and so. of course. was very quickly and very rudely reminded that I am Not A Painter#the thing is… it was going fine until the paint became involved#I just… no matter how many classes I’ve taken in my life I never know how to handle paints#or colouring pencils. or markers. or anything#it’s like the second colour comes into the picture#it gets ruined#.. I don’t know. maybe I’m just shoving square pegs into round holes#I get insanely inspired when looking at paintings and I want to be able to do that too#but time and time again it has been proven that I’m not meant to be a painter#I don’t even know why I’m still clinging to drawing in general. considering I’ve hit a plateau and haven’t taken any steps towards improving#but maybe it is best to continue to stick to my mediocre digital art. traditional is clearly not for me#can you believe I once genuinely thought I was gonna go to art school?#i don’t know how I ever managed to convince myself of that. I’m useless at art#my area of expertise is pretty girls from the waist up facing a little to the side#I can do that. I’m good at that#anything else? out of luck#and yet I don’t work on branching out or trying to improve at all. I just sit here and whine#over and over again. day in and day out. I come on here and complain#and do nothing to fix what I’m complaining about. I’m doing it right now#how does anyone put up with me? I’m insufferable#I make myself sick
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blushweddinggowns · 4 months
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“Your boyfriend,” Chirssy sighed as she picked through Nancy’s clothes, “Y’know, Steve?”
Robin blinked at her, “You think I’m dating Steve?”
That was a silly question, “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? You guys are all over each other.”
They were. Piggy back rides, cuddling on the couch together, constantly invading each other’s personal space. The only person worse with Steve was Eddie, but Chrissy figured that just came with being best friends for over a decade. She didn’t exactly have a frame of reference for that, considering her first real friends were barely six months old. 
Chrissy just hadn’t expected Robin to burst out laughing. Hard enough to double over.
Robin wiped at her eyes, barely managing to speak through her own cackles, “That’s-oh my god. How have we fucked up this badly?” 
Chrissy could feel a flush creep up her neck, embarrassment kicking in. She hated when she wasn’t in on the joke. It usually meant that it was actually on her,  “Don't be mean.”
“No!” Robin rushed out to say, effortlessly catching on to the look on Chrissy’s face, “No! I-I don’t mean- you’re not stupid! I am. We are. For… reasons. But we aren’t dating.”
That didn’t make any sense. Unless… was Steve leading her on? Was he the type of guy to do that?
Chrissy raised a brow at her, “So what are you doing? The two of you are attached at the hip. Unless he just drives you around everywhere for fun?”
Chrissy could tell Robin was still trying not to laugh. She was failing at it too, obvious as she hid it behind her hand. 
“Stop laughing at me,” Chrissy grumbled. 
“I’m not! I’m just laughing near you,” Robin said quickly. She turned to Steve, “Hey babe, can you come over here for a second?”
He came trotting right over, leaving Eddie to argue with Nancy in his place. He kind of reminded her of a dog, but in a cute way. Like a golden retriever boyfriend. 
Robin wrapped an arm around his shoulder the second he was within reach. She grinned at him, shaking him the slightest bit, “How would you feel about us going out some time?”
Steve stared at her, obviously confused, “Huh?”
“You, me,” Robin went on, “The whole boyfriend girlfriend shtick. What do you say?”
Chrissy didn’t expect to Steve physically cringe, like the idea completely disgusted him, “Ew, no.”
Robin scoffed but she didn’t look very surprised, “Fucking rude.”
“No!” Steve said, raising his hands to placate, “I don’t mean you’re gross! I mean it would be like banging my sister!”
It was Robin’s turn to cringe, “Dude, ew.”
“See!”
Chrissy didn’t understand what was happening. She stared at them, blurting the question out, “You guys aren’t together?”
Robin did a set of jazz hands, “Nope. Absolutely zero attraction between us. See?”
“But why?” Chrissy asked, looking between the two of them, “You both seem so perfect for each other.”
“Hey Eddie,” Steve called, a weird smile on his face, “What do you think? Are Robin and I perfect for each other?”
Suddenly Robin had that same look, “Yeah. He knows Steve better than anybody. Let's have him weigh in.”
Eddie groaned as he came over, clearly eavesdropping the entire time. He left Nancy to dig around her closet, walking up next to Steve with a sigh, “Are we really doing this? Really?”
Robin gasped, faking a faint, “Are you implying that I’m not good enough for Steve?”
Steve gasped right along with her, joining in with the dramatics while Chrissy was still lost, “I think he might be.”
“As fun as this little game is,” Eddie sighed, “I think we should just tell her. I’m tired of keeping my hands to myself anyway.”
Steve looked at him, head cocked, “You think so?”
“Why not?”
Steve shrugged, his eyes landing back onto Chrissy. His voice dipped down, more serious then before. He was talking like he was speaking to Eddie, but Eddie wasn’t the one he was staring down as he spoke, “It makes sense. I think the chances of it going badly are pretty low. The alternative wouldn’t be very wise.”
Chrissy was reminded, not for the first time, why she thought Steve was the scarier one of the best friend duo. 
But then Eddie was clamping a hand onto Steve’s shoulder, pulling him closer as he mumbled in his ear, “Put the claws away angel. I highly doubt she's like that. Plus she's been through enough for one day. Don't you think?”
It was actually pretty impressive, how easily a few words had Steve’s face transforming from scarily defensive to pleasantly neutral. It nearly looked like the words made him shiver, “I-you're right. Sorry Chris. I'm just… sensitive about it “
“I have no idea what’s going on,” Chrissy said, completely unable to accept an apology that she didn’t understand, “What is happening?”
And what did Eddie just call him? 
Eddie went on, “Well… we kind of have this thing when we’re in a near death experience. Or at least adjacent to it. Where we, well, kind of let loose? So we might as well warn you about what you’re going to see beforehand.”
Chrissy stared as Steve leaned further into him, nearly too close. No, definitely too close. He was basically nuzzling the side of Eddie’s face as he spoke, “You’re making it sound like we’re going to commit public indecency in front of her. And I’m the one who needs to calm down?”
Chrissy still didn’t get it. But her brain was still trying to work it out, fitting the weird pieces together. The way they were leaning into each other. The fact that Steve, for some bizarre reason didn’t want the best girl in the country, despite the fact that Robin was right there. How Eddie was instantly able to calm him down. 
Angel.
Oh. 
Oh. 
OH. 
“Uh, you okay there Chris?” Eddie asked, watching right at the realization hit her.
She was not okay. Not because of Eddie and Steve, but because this meant Robin was single. And she had been the entire damn time. 
Chrissy shook herself out of the stupid thought, just because she wasn’t taken didn’t mean she had a chance-
“Yeah, we’re kind of the queer trio over here,” Robin added, effortlessly grinding Chrissy’s train of thought back to a halt, “I um, probably should have told you sooner but piggybacking on their coming out seems appropriate.”
Nancy snorted, her outfit choices formalized as she walked over, “If you’re the queer trio what does that make me? The straight fourth wheel?”
They were all talking about it so casually. Like the thing that has plagued Chrissy’s mind for years, filling her with guilt and doubt, didn’t matter. It was normal, it was fine, and Robin liked girls.
She was pretty sure she was going to faint. But before she could her mouth was opening, “That’s- I - Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”
Her voice came out more forceful than she expected. Though in her defense, she just found out that she had a real shot with her best friend the same day her life was in danger. She was feeling frazzled, but she corrected herself when she was met with silence, “I-I’m fine with it! Really! I j-just wish I had known.”
Nancy looked at her sympathetically, “Did you have a crush on one of them too? I get it, Steve got me the first time we started getting close. But I promise it’s not that hard to get over it.”
“No!” Chrissy said quickly, again with too much force, “I’m just surprised. T-That’s it. Everything’s fine.”
“Think you got the wrong category there Nance,” Steve mumbled under his breathe, yelping when Robin pinched his arm with a sharp glare. 
“Ignore him,” Robin said with a sad smile, “He doesn’t get everyone doesn’t have the gay gene.”
Chrissy nodded, her eyes trailing the flush that was going up Robin’s neck. Suddenly her mouth felt dry, the urge to correct her coming out full force. She shouldn’t tell them, right? It was wrong, it was bad, it didn't make sense. Because she knew they weren’t wrong. They weren’t bad. And Chrissy was so, so, tired of other people’s words invading her own thoughts. 
Nancy was laying the clothes out, the only one capable of getting everyone back on task, “Since it looks like neither of you were actually looking. I picked these out for you-”
“I have it,” Chrissy blurted out, her eyes still on the clothes on the bed. She refused to look up for any of their reactions, “The um, what you guys were talking about earlier. Me too. And I like the blue skirt.”
Nancy was the only one who didn’t miss a beat, “Ah, so now there’s four. Good for you. And I agree with the skirt, it will make you look a little taller with the heels and the elongation. We can get you to pass for a college student for sure. Robin, what do you think about the pink?”
from the next chapter of this fic
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julietsbody · 6 months
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girlnextdoor
( chapter one :
studyme.png )
words: 3,525
tags: 18+!!!! mdni , camgirl ! reader , camming, sex worker ! reader , masturbation , falling in love , body worship , religious / greek imagery , voyeurism, semi ! sub coriolanus , fantasizing
p.s : this is also on my ao3! ( divider by i92-93 )
a/n : i don’t know how i managed to make this an emotional story with greek references, but i did it somehow LOLL hope u enjoy!!
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PROLOGUE : COMPETITION .
festus had an irrational mouth, he had dared coriolanus to do stupid things before, like asking girls out, or to have one night stands with them. it was awful, coriolanus hated being around festus because he was like a fly buzzing around in his eardrums, circling around his head and refusing to leave no matter how many times he swipes at it. coriolanus wasn’t the only victim unfortunately, sejanus was the main one for festus, because sejanus was weak, pliant, and could easily be peer pressured into anything.
“i dare you to ask her out,” he points to a girl in the library, a girl with clemensia and arachne.
dear fucking god, save us all, this is going to be a crucification performed in the middle of the academy’s library.
“you’re joking, right?” sejanus coughs out an awkward laugh.
festus’ eyes narrow, a dangerous seriousness, “no, it’s not that hard.”
“why don’t you do it then?” coriolanus slices in the conversation.
“i have a girlfriend,” festus shrugs, “can’t.”
coriolanus barks out a bitter laugh, “who would date you?”
“okay, that’s fucking rude, and she’s hella hot, so fuck off, please,” festus rolls his eyes, “go on, sejanus!”
sejanus frowns, festus was talking so loud that the girls were now looking at them, with their judgemental, pristine stares.
so he sighs, and raises to a stand, making coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow, he knew sejanus was weak, impulsive, but not to this level, “you aren’t actually gonna do it, are you?”
“i am,” sejanus sounds confident, but he isn’t. poor, sweet sejanus.
what a trainwreck, like something you try to hard to look away from, but you just can’t. your eyes follow him as he moves over to the girls, a small smile curving his lips when he finally approaches them, an opposite to their sharp eyes. clemensia’s head tips to the side, “yes, sejanus?”
sejanus inhales, trying to remind himself that he does have a way with words, so just use that.
his eyes move down to you, “i was wondering if—“
“no,” you respond quickly.
he swallows, “okay.”
and festus is laughing, god it’s more of a cackle than a laugh.
but the girls don’t laugh, they know festus’ game, if anything they hate festus more than any of the poor boys that are dared to ask them out for dates.
“who’s your girlfriend?” coriolanus asks, having a feeling that he’s lying.
festus’ laughter immediately calms down, “she’s a pornstar, and she’s like super in love with me.”
“does she even know you exist?” coriolanus scoffs, “‘m sure she’s just doing her job.”
“shut the fuck up,” he rolls his eyes, “you’re just mad you could never get with a girl like mine.”
“let me see her,” coriolanus offers, and of course, festus pulls up a picture of a girl who hardly shows her face.
you can only see her lips, and from then on she’s in very tight and revealing clothing, coriolanus stares at the picture for a second, then looks at festus.
festus smirks cockily, “hot, right?”
hot, is that all he views his so called girlfriend as?
“you can’t even see her face,” he confronts, and festus rolls his eyes.
“that’s not the point—“
“then what is?”
“her videos, dude, they’re so good,” festus’ voice becomes a loudly hushed whisper now.
coriolanus’ jaw ticks, “you sure she even knows you?”
“okay, she doesn’t— but like—“ he groans, “why don’t you try to get her to notice you, asshole?”
“i don’t watch porn,” coriolanus shrugs simply.
festus coughs out a laugh, “yeah, say that again when you’re searching girlnextdoor tonight.”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
coriolanus, in his own defense, should be saying that it was curiosity. at first it was, yes, pure innocent, unshielded curiosity. then it became what it truly was underneath all of his guards, admiration. with each video, each picture, it had his teeth gritting. he didn’t want to pay to see your exclusive content at first, but with how little you showed on every other platform, it almost felt necessary. girlnextdoor, what a peculiar name, he was itching to know more about you.
maybe it was the competition festus had set him up for that had him wanting this, coriolanus was never one for porn, or for jerking off. but god, he might now be. it was disgusting, how much his mind raced with every suggestive picture, ones where you teased the contents underneath your bra, or a video where you were taking off your panties but still showing nothing.
he went back to your original website, only to find, in bold letters, LIVE.
live? he swallows thick, cursor moving to click on the maroon enticing him.
the sight that came nearly had him clicking off almost immediately, you had been moved into a cowgirl position, riding a dildo. your moans filled his eardrums almost immediately, each whine, each movement of your hips delivering a squelching sound. he felt like a dehydrated man, throat run dry, tongue devoid of any saliva. aphrodite, in her natural habitat, sex, love, devotion, she is putting herself on display— yet with the camera placed to show everything only from below her nose, she is so hidden at the same time.
he was biting the delicate skin on the inside of his cheek, peaking near the metallic taste, but he didn’t even realize over the heat rushing to his dick. he breathed out, wondering what it would feel like if you were to be on him, with those experienced hips, that body which looks like it was crafted from the gods himself, your pussy swallowing his dick whole—
he clicks off as soon as the thought sears in his mind, he doesn’t need to be thinking of a pornstar like this.
his eyes close for a minute, and all he can see in that darkness is the shape of your body, the bucking of your hips as you ride the dildo, and he sighs.
he should sleep. it’s late.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
INTERLUDE : HAUNTED .
adoration, a statue by stephen abel sinding, made from delicate marble. it depicted a man at a woman’s feet, as she sat upon a pedestal. he was on his knees, eyes staring up at the goddess in front of him, as she sat with her back straight, eyes falling upon the man that worshipped her. he kissed her legs with care, admiration, hands slipping onto her calves as he plants his lips upon her shins. she was gorgeous above him, allowing him to take every part of her into his hold, to kiss her and devote his whole pride to her.
coriolanus swallows thick, he thought that when his eyes moved to a close, his thoughts would dissipate.
they got worse, so, so much worse. they were more vivid now, dirtier, his longing worsening.
he imagined what words would spill from your mouth as your hips swayed on him, he allowed you to take the lead, restraining himself from fucking into you like a desperate man. to be honest, he was desperate, he was needy, the feeling of your puffy walls closing in on him had him almost whimpering himself. a god is no match to his goddess, he will always fall to his knees in front of her, no matter what. coriolanus had pride, surely, but the idea of your clit rubbing against his abdomen as your hips stuttered on him had his pride becoming weak façades.
say that again when you’re searching girlnextdoor tonight.
fuck you, festus. he was the reason that coriolanus even knew this camgirl existed, the reason for the painful stains on his mind.
festus wouldn’t be so cocky if the girl he calls his girlfriend had coriolanus’ dick in her mouth.
the feeling of your mouth on his dick became vivid as well now, he could see it so clearly, your doe eyes staring up at him through those velvet lashes as your pillow lips move to press sloppy, open - mouthed kisses onto the tip of his cock. you were teasing him, surely, and he couldn’t take it. he would grit out a small plea for you to actually suck him in, and he would feel your lips curl onto his tip, “beg.”
begging, coriolanus always hated the idea of it, he thought it was weak, gross, submissive.
but in this moment, he was so clouded with lust that he didn’t care for the repercussions of a simple please.
“please, just fucking— god, i need—“ he couldn’t even get his words right, it was sweet. your eyebrow cocked at him, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you through dilated pupils and lazy lids. you finally took pity, lips parting further so your tongue could snake out and slide underneath his cock as you take him in finally. the warmth was all too much for coriolanus, wetness, warmth, his fingers move to thread through the weaves of your hair, his bottom lip falling tight underneath his top teeth.
his hips buck ever so slightly, again, desperation. you don’t react though, if anything, you just moaned around him.
no gag reflex? dear god, you’ll be coriolanus’ ruin.
god will not be present in this moment though, as though this is a reenactment of the martyrdom of saint sebastian. arrows shooting at him as he falls to his fate, he was strung up, shot with the painful spears, and left for his death. isn’t that so alike to now? festus had tied him up, fed him stories of this woman and allowed him to fall into sin, then left him for his own demise.
apples began to taste sweeter, even with their poison, as coriolanus finds his hand dipping below his waistband, his long fongers fell along his painful hardness. he mumbled a curse into the gentle air as he finally relieves himself from all of his sins, as of he’s sitting in the confessional of a church, whispering all of his sins to the judgemental priest. the scales tipped as his fingers moved to curl around his cock, fist moving up and down on his length.
the pictures continued, he thought of how he would take care of you first, now if he was the one dominating.
he would go rough, he always loved the idea of fucking someone senseless, making every vein buzz with only pleasure, mind forming thoughts solely of lust. he imagines holding you close as his fingers curl inside of you, he doesn’t push them in and out fast at first, but when your hips buck up against him— he becomes harsher, the intention of bruising your lips evident.
next, he moves to press you against the mattress, fucking you senseless into it.
he hums into the air, “ah— fuck..”
his breathing is labored, eyes scrunching shut as the pictures of your eyes rolling back becomes a mere oil painting in front of him, perched on the walls of the most pristine museums. his fingers would pass through your hair again, now the back of your head, pulling you back so your spine is flush against his chest. you’d lean back against him, melting into his skin and begging for more. surely, you had enough experience from your dildos and other sexual toys, or partners, but none of them could compare to coriolanus as his hips snap into you.
he groans into the air, seething in the pleasure, “i’ll fuck you so good..— mm.”
he moves to now fuck into his hand, imagining his hand a depiction of your velvet walls around him, clenching as you near your high.
you moan against his flesh, his fingers moving from your hair to your neck, pulling you until your flesh molds with his, adoration and lust merging you two together.
he went faster, harsher, fucking into his hand until his thighs grew sore, finally reaching his high.
he spills into his hand, sighing into the humid air.
“my god—“ he mumbles, eyes fluttering open.
what the fuck is his problem?
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
INTERLUDE : DARE ME ?
“so, did you talk to her?” festus interrogates him, per usual.
coriolanus’ eyes are heavy, he hardly slept after the events of last night, “no, i didn’t.”
“fucking loser,” festus snears, “she was live last night.”
“i know,” he swallows thick, the image of you riding the dildo returning to his mind, “did you talk to her?”
“yeah,” he shrugs, cocky, again, “i’m texting her right now.”
coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow, he leans over to see festus sending a message.
a phone goes off in the library.
as soon as the message is sent.
coriolanus blinks, once, twice, “send another.”
so he does, he types out another message and send it.
the same phone goes off again, just as the message says delivered.
coincidence?
coriolanus doesn’t believe in those.
“you’re so fucking weird dude, don’t try to read my messages,” festus pushes him away.
coriolanus groans, he couldn’t care less to read festus’ messages, “are you paying her to talk to you?”
“yes, but that’s not the point—“ festus quickly tries to save himself from the humiliation.
coriolanus scoffs, “she’s not your girlfriend, you can’t even get one, like ever.”
“and what about you, virgin?” festus leans in, a smirk growing on his lips. coriolanus knows what that smirk means, it means coriolanus will soon be sealing his fate, “why don’t you try to get one?”
“i’m good,” coriolanus shrugs, “nobody’s here for you to even dare me to ask out.”
“clemensia is,” he points to the table where you and clemensia always sit at, and of course, you’re both there, “and her friend.”
“i’m not asking them out,” coriolanus moves down in his chair.
“yes you are, i dare you.”
“no, you’re so fucking stu—“
“i’m gonna tell everyone you’re a virgin.”
coriolanus’ weakness was people knowing all the humiliating things about him, one of those things was the fact that he hasn’t had sex yet. coriolanus was an attractive man, he could get women if he truly wanted to and spend his nights with them, but he refused. and that made festus’ dares easy.
coriolanus’ jaw shifts, “you’re an asshole.”
every step he takes is slow, calculated, yet confident. it’s a certain stride that coriolanus always has, where he knows what he’s doing, but unsure at the same time. especially now, especially when your hair falls off your shoulder as you turn to have your eyes fall on him, sensing his approach. maybe it was a common thing for you, knowing festus would be daring his friends to come up to you, clemensia, or arachne.
always on high alert, he assumes.
his eyes fall the exposition of your shoulder, a key to one of those tight shirts that you always wear, even when it was against dress code.
a tight skirt and a short skirt, your motto, clearly. your twist underneath the table when he stands next to your seat, close, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. one thing he does notice though, is the strap of your bra. pink? a familiar shade, and as he follows it down, he notices the lace that starts on your bra. it looks an awful lot like the bra that the camgirl wore last night, the bra that coriolanus imagined you taking off for him.
his eyes narrow, he seems distracted, and you stare at him like he’s dumb, “hello?”
his eyes snap to your face at your words, “sorry— i—“
“what? are you gonna ask me out?” god, were you always this bitchy?
“i was planning on it,” his jaw shifts, eyes dipping to the plush of your lips, coated in that sparkly, strawberry gloss you always wore, “would you have said yes?”
“no, god, what is with you assholes?” you roll your eyes, pencil tapping impatiently against the desk.
“hm, not even a study date?” his eyes trail down to the book on your desk, “i saw your score on the test last week.”
“ew, fucking creep,” you snap, “i don’t need your help.”
“you sure?” his eyebrow cocks, your no isn’t stable yet, so he’s persuasive.
“coriolanus,” clemensia cuts in, “she said no.”
“did she?” he whistles, a cocky smile curving his lips, one that you want to slap off him, “must’ve not heard that.”
“then get some hearing aids,” you laugh, “i’m not sucking your dick.”
“didn’t ask you to, but we’ll see, sweetheart.”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
we’ll see. he didn’t even know where those words came from, or his cockiness, maybe it was the fact that he suspected you to be the girl he had on his mind last night. if so, then he would know things about you that many don’t, and that gives him power.
greed : an insatiable desire for material objects, wealth, and power.
coriolanus snow was a greedy man.
he kept a closer eye on you now, eyes pinning to the back of your head, memorizing the way you style your hair, so that he can see if the hair that drips off your shoulders in all of your secret videos were the same. or if your lips were as sparkly and glossed in those videos as they are in person. did you wear the same mini skirt you wore to school in your videos? that would be dirty, wouldn’t it? capitol girl, dressed in her pristine clothes as she fucks herself in front of thousands.
what a slut.
he had to figure it out, it was an untamable hunger that not even the most holy prayer could exorcize out of him. rosaries dripped around the fingers he used to curl around his cock the night before, and even in his most innocent prayers, his mind reflected back onto the idea of pulling the rosary around your neck as he fucks into you. his eyes snap open, and now just another thing that he had done so clearly before was plagued with your existence.
was this you calling out to him? beckoning him to pray for you?
if so, he might just do it, dedicate all of his rosaries to you, replace virgin mary with yourself, and look at every cross and think of you moving onto it, sliding the wood into your womanhood.
coriolanus’ throat was dry again, his own thoughts making him want to vomit.
those were the kinds of things festus would be fantasizing about, not coriolanus— and yet, here he was, on his knees, imagining you on the pedestal. your hair dips past your shoulders as you look down at him, those judgemental, buggish eyes, now bleeding onto his skull. his fingers dip behind your calves, memorizing the touch of the flesh that smoothed over muscle and bone. his eyes cascade up your legs, past your breasts, to the eyes that look down on him.
he has a certain look in his eyes, a look that is saying he’s doing this all for you. dropping his pride for you, allowing his walls to crumble for you, tarnishing his name for you. sometimes snow doesn’t land on top, sometimes it melts and becomes weak in the sky, sometimes it crumbles underneath itself.
he plants gentle kisses to your shins, admirations, soft praises and prayers.
goddess, did you hear about the man who roamed lost? the man who fell weak? tell me of his efforts, what brought him to this point, the people he met, the worlds he crossed, to now be brought to his knees in front of his muse. he was complicated, hidden, and yet you peeled him apart like a pomegranate. the juice splatters against your face as he opens himself to you, and something about it is so very special.
scratches fall down his back, and again, he’s blinking himself to reality.
his fingers on the keyboard, he finds himself at your profile once more, now beckoning you to him. a twisted game of tug - of - war, isn’t it? pieces fall into place as he clicks on the link which leads him to paying for your exclusive content.
research purposes, of course.
he spends his money so easily, he doesn’t even take a second thought to it as the page reloads with his newfound access to all your hidden secrets. his fingers pry as he pulls down the website, scrolling through each aspect that you hold in the reflections of who you really are.
a whore? no, a temptress.
he sucks in a breath at the sights of you bending over in front of the camera, fucking a dildo into yourself, or the next one of you in a missionary position with a vibrator on your clit. or the next one of you fucking a dildo between your tits. coriolanus rasps out the breath he sucked in earlier, adjusting in his seat, this wasn’t another invitation to jerk off, it was studying.
he scrolls past a few more videos and then, his eyes catch it, the skirt.
a small smile curves his lips, power.
he has it.
or so, he thinks he does, you have his money, his admiration, him on his knees, have him confused on whether or not this is truly you. skirts and coincidences don’t tell much, he just likes to jump to conclusions. the hair didn’t even match up—
so does he really have the power?
we’ll see, sweetheart.
622 notes · View notes
blitzyn · 8 months
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rookie mistake
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dottore x m!reader
Request: Requests are open right? I hope so 🤞 Would I be able to ask for a sub!(male/amab)reader X dom!dottore? With some blackmail and coercion, preferably leaning towards dubious consent but I’m am a-ok with non-con elements, with a fatui/subordinate reader? If you could add in a small scene of him continuing while talking with someone outside the door that’s be awesome 😎 - Anonymous
Synopsis: You accidentally invade Dottore's office in search of intel.
a/n -> yall i know that i said i was on the fence about writing for genshin, but it was dottore and i love him plus i really liked this idea despite it having collected dust in my inbox for decades. whoever requested this: i love your mind and im so sorry it took me forever to decide to write this!! but just a reminder to whoever sees this, i will not be writing for fontaine unless stated otherwise!!
wc -> 3.6k
cw -> non-con, blackmail, coercion, blowjob, deepthroat, literally getting caught, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, standing doggy position, fatuus/infiltrator reader, guys he calls you a rat because you're a spy, not beta read
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Your job was straightforward. But it was also one of the most grueling missions you've ever been assigned to.
With your status as an elite spy, you were tasked with infiltrating the Fatui as one of their ranks to gather information regarding the locations and purposes of specific forts to prevent potential attacks and keep the organization from acquiring knowledge valuable to their cause.
There was absolutely no room for error, lest you get caught and pay for that mistake with your life.
Fortunately enough, the mask everyone was required to wear (with the exception of the Harbingers) concealed your identity, allowing you to execute your orders with relative ease. Of course, it wasn't completely simple. You had to fight your way up the ranks in order to even get a hint of the plan from your superiors, which took years to even get recognized for your efforts.
Several times have you had to go against your moral compass. Several times, you doubted your abilities and questioned if you were even making a dent in the Fatui's plans. Although, when you heard a faint argument due to a lack of resources, you knew you were on the right track.
But one day, you noticed that an agent's office door was left unlocked. There was no one in the hallways, and not a soul knew that you had stolen an important document that recorded data for some valuable supply that you didn't care enough to read about.
Making sure you tucked the paper deep inside your coat pocket, you strained your ears to ensure you were alone before taking the risk and entering the isolated office. It looked like your standard room. Boring, silent, and strangely barren of many decorations. You took a moment to inspect the area before deciding to take a step forward when your blood suddenly ran cold.
"I don't use this office very often," a voice said from behind you. You just about jumped out of your skin, swiveling your head to the person behind you. It took you a moment to put a face to the name you'd heard so many times before, but when you did, you quickly regretted your decision to search for any additional information. "But even so, don't you think it's rude to invade someone's personal space?"
You froze, unable to find the right words. Nothing could explain why you were currently snooping around in an office that wasn't yours—much, much less when it belonged to the Second of the Eleven Harbingers.
You inwardly cursed your naive eagerness to do more than you were asked. Your years of experience as a spy should've kept you from making such a rookie mistake, and now all your work was going down the drain.
The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, fighting the urge to fidget at the overwhelming feeling of his gaze on you, analyzing your appearance. He broke the silence with a hum, neither intrigued nor entirely disappointed.
"I have heard others spread rumors of a mole within our ranks but thought nothing more of their words as an excuse for their inability to secure our resources," Dottore mused, raising a hand to his chin. "I assume that the mole is you?"
You couldn't bring yourself to reply. Your throat was dry, and your stomach twisted into knots. Not that he cared.
"I must applaud your efforts," he said, a slight smirk decorating his pale face. "Not many people evade our eyes so easily, and for as long as you have."
"But, a word of advice—" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a familiar device. He presented it to you, watching in amusement when you suddenly patted yourself down before looking back up towards him. It was the device you used to contact your organization. "—Make sure you clean up after yourself. It's impolite to leave your items lying around."
You don't remember dropping it or forgetting it somewhere. But that didn't matter anymore. You were stuck in the present with no way of getting out of this situation.
He flipped the device over, dully inspecting it as he continued talking. "After going through your data log, it wasn't hard figuring out what you were going for next. While this normally wouldn't spark any interest in me, this resource just so happens to be vital in my current experiment, and I can't have you tampering with my results."
He walked forward, stopping just a few feet in front of you. He was close enough for you to inhale his scent of sterile rubbing alcohol and metal. It made your nose burn as you watched him intently, tensing and fighting the urge to back away out of fear of angering him somehow. The document in your pocket felt unusually heavy.
"Although, I didn't expect such a seasoned spy like yourself to make such an amateur move," he hummed, ignoring your need for personal space to pull your mask off. And you were helpless against it all. "[Name] [L.Name], is it? Why don't you read the paper you have right now?"
That's when you knew you fucked up big time.
With a shaky hand, you reached into your coat pocket to pull out the report, unfolding it only to realize that it wasn't a report at all. It was a blank piece of paper. But you could've sworn there was writing on it when you grabbed it earlier!
He could see the confusion on your face clear as day as a laugh left his lips, tapping a rolled-up piece of parchment on the tip of your nose to regain your attention. "I believe this is what you're after." With a flick of his wrist, he unfurled the paper that contained everything you needed.
"What—" you gasped, briefly staring at your paper before looking back up.
"It's a shame you didn't think to check the ink before you took it," he said, faux disappointment laced in his voice before it reverted back to its normal tone just as fast. "The ink 'disappears' when subjected to anything higher than room temperature. When you put it in your pocket, your body heat, coupled with the insulation from your coat, affected the writing and turned it invisible."
Fuck.
He planned this out.
You swallowed nervously, taking a deep inhale to steel your nerves, even when it didn't do much to help you. "How... how long have you known?" you couldn't help but ask.
"Not long, really," Dottore casually replied, as if he didn't hold your entire life in the palm of his hand. "I caught you just in time."
"Now," he said with a voice that demanded your attention. Not that he needed to try, anyway. His very presence was almost impossible to ignore. "I'm willing to offer you two options. One, I hand this device over to one of my lovely agents and have them torture you for answers then promptly dispose of you. Or, two—" He waved the communicator in the air, taunting you. "—I have you make it up to me."
It was obvious which one you'd be more tempted to accept, but you knew that accepting an offer such as this from Dottore, of all people, was not a good idea. He knows he has you right where he wants you.
"The second one. I... I'll make it up to you." The words tasted like acid as you forced them out, watching a pleased smirk rise on his face.
"Good," he muttered mostly to himself. Leisurely, he turned around and walked towards the door, shutting it before refocusing back on you.
"Get on your knees," he ordered, placing his hands behind his back as he waited for you to move. He observed silently as you obeyed, staring at the floor in shame. "Crawl to me."
He sighed impatiently upon seeing the conflicted and perplexed expression on your face. "You want to be a rat so badly, don't you? So get down and crawl to me like one."
You were given no choice but to comply despite the absurdity of his request. Hanging your head, you inched forward as the cold, wooden floors painfully dug into your knees, stopping once the sight of his boots came into view. You held back a flinch when you heard the fabric of his clothes rustle as he leaned down to lift your head up by your hair, forcing you to your knees.
Instantly, your eyes zeroed in on the prominent bulge in Dottore's pants, making you painfully aware of what he wanted you to do next. With a suspiciously gentle tug, he brought you slightly closer to him. You could tell he was getting impatient.
"Well?" He questioned, a frown gracing his features. "You don't need instructions. Go on."
You glanced up at him with blatant disgust in your eyes before raising your hands to undo his pants and reveal his semi-hard cock. You suppressed a grimace as you held it in your hand, steeling your nerves just enough to be able to lick a stripe down the side. Flattening your tongue, you moved back up to take the tip in your mouth, letting your saliva slip past the corners of your lips to lubricate the rest of his dick.
You half-assed it all, not bothering to take it all the way down or, at the very least, use your tongue. However, Dottore caught on quick enough with an annoyed sigh. You supposed you shouldn't have been surprised when he tangled his fingers into your hair and shoved you down, but you were caught off guard either way.
You were embarrassed to hear a loud gag sound from you, choking and sputtering on his cock whenever the tip of it slid down your throat. You dug your nails into his thighs when he suddenly shifted and pressed the sole of his boot onto your dick, letting out a muffled cry that only served to please him. He made no move to rub it against you, simply keeping it firmly on your crotch—to keep you in line, you assumed.
You squirmed, internally cringing at the feeling of your drool seeping out the corners of your lips. Fluttering your eyes shut, you tried to focus on your breathing. In and out, in and out, in and—
"Don't look away," he said, refusing to give you a moment of respite, shoving his cock all the way inside your mouth, harshly tugging on your hair at the same time. He fucked your face, ignoring your sounds of protest as he battered your throat. He laughed at your struggle, entertained with the way your tears gathered at your lash line.
"Awh, is this too much for you?" He taunted, shifting his hand to the back of your head to push you down to the base. He sighed contentedly at the feeling of your throat tightening and spasming around him, gently rocking his hips. "You should've thought that through before you accepted the job."
With a painful tug, he pulled you off of his cock. A trail of saliva connected you to him, which you quickly broke when you turned your head to cough into your elbow. He ordered you to get up, unwilling to wait a second before he hauled you up by your arm impatiently. He effortlessly moved your body, pressing your cheek against the wooden door as he pushed on your back, forcing it to arch.
Deeming your position acceptable, he tucked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pants to yank them down to your knees. Your breath hitched at the sudden change in temperature, refusing to lean back and seek any warmth from Dottore.
With one hand on your hip, the other strayed toward your ass, spreading it to inspect your hole. It took effort to keep yourself from fidgeting under his gaze, and you opened your mouth in a daring attempt to get him to hurry up when he suddenly spat on your hole, shoving two fingers inside soon after.
You let out a grunt, clawing at the door he had you lean against. It was an uncomfortably foreign sensation but you were in no position to struggle. A burning sensation emanated from your hole as his fingers forced their way inside, wasting no time to move in a scissoring motion. They brushed against a spot that sent sparks up your spine every so often, taunting you wordlessly.
"You're enjoying this," Dottore said, not as a question or comment, but as a statement. And the worst thing was, he was right. No matter how much your mind made you hate it, your body told a different tale.
You let out a displeased sigh, pressing your forehead against the cold door, not daring to make your words known. Not that he minded. He enjoyed forcing your reactions out of you just as much as having them given to him without a fight.
He made it known with a jab to your prostate, sending a shock up and down your spine so suddenly it nearly made your knees buckle. That was all he gave you before abruptly pulling away, leaving you uncomfortably empty until the quiet ptuh! sound of him spitting on his cock filled your ears.
Fuck. This was actually happening. And you had no way out.
In a last ditch effort to maintain your dignity, you tried to push yourself off of the door but was quickly pressed—borderline slammed—back down with a hand to the back of your neck.
"I don't think you'll enjoy the alternative," he said, the undertones of irritation and impatience evident in his voice. He squeezed the sides of your neck hard enough to ensure your compliance, nearly scowling when you shifted in place. "So be still and behave like a good little thing."
Without missing a beat, he lined the tip of his cock up against your slick asshole and pushed his way inside, forcing a strained cry from your throat. He made sure it hurt, purposefully moving slowly to make you feel every inch and vein.
You whimpered, trying to breathe and calm yourself down. The stretch fucking hurt and you instinctively shifted your hips forward in a futile attempt to ease the pain when Dottore held your hips to yank you back, shoving the last few inches inside you.
You let out a strangled groan, biting your lower lip to stifle your noises as searing pain tore through you. You breathed heavily through your nose, feeling the weight of disgust settle in your chest when you heard him sigh in satisfaction at how tight you were. You winced when he pulled out slowly, only for him to slam back inside with a loud slap.
You jolted, just about ramming your head against the door in surprise. You grit your teeth and pressed a hand against it as the wood audibly creaked and groaned under your weight when he began to move. You tensed upon hearing faint voices beyond the door, peering back over your shoulder in a pathetic attempt to get him to stop.
"W—Wait," you muttered, breath hitching. "There's someone outside...!"
"Then I suppose you're just going to have to be quiet," he replied with an upward quirk to his lips before angling himself in a way that made his cock press up against you just right. You were disgusted to feel heat beginning to pool in your gut, forcing moans past your lips no matter how hard you tried to stop them. You covered your mouth with a hand as you listened to the noises approach. Dottore was (somewhat) merciful enough to press his pelvis against your ass, though that didn't stop him from rocking his hips to cruelly grind his cock into your prostate.
"Dottore?" It took you a moment to process the voice as electricity shot up and down your spine, trying your damn best to stifle your whimpers. "Are you in there?"
It's Pantalone, you recognize.
"Yes. Is there something you need from me?" Dottore replied, shifting his hold on you to start shallowly thrusting. You squeezed your eyes shut, listening to the painfully loud squelching.
"Not at the moment. I thought I heard something... else," Pantalone hummed with a knowing tone, sending a wave of mortification through your body.
"Then if that is all, I'd prefer it if you left," Dottore said, his amusement clear as day in his voice. He didn't even try to hide it as he gave you a punishing thrust, the resounding slap mixing in with your moan as it echoed off the walls. "I'm busy."
A laugh came from behind the door. "Very well. I'll leave you to it."
Dottore refused to wait for him to leave when he started again, this time fucking you so hard you were convinced there'd be a bruise. His fingers dug into your skin, yanking you back in time with his thrusts.
Your legs shook and you bit your lip until you bled, but it hardly did a thing to silence you.
"Look at you," Dottore mused, reaching around to hold your aching cock in his hand. He gave it a squeeze before jerking off the top half, focusing on the tip. "You were never meant to be a spy. You'd be so much better off as my little pet, wouldn't you agree?"
You let out a loud moan, instinctively looking down. You didn't even realize you were so hard, but as you watched the head of your cock drool precum onto the ground, everything felt twice as intense.
"N—No!" You choked out, clawing desperately at the creaking door. "I'll never—I'll never be your pet!"
"No?" Dottore laughed, sounding so unbothered it sent a spike of fear through you, reminding you of just how fucked you were. Swiftly, he swiped his fingers over the tip of your cock before bringing his hand up to push them into your mouth, making you taste your precum. With the palm of his hand, he pressed it against your chin to force your head back.
You let out a groan, feeling the strain on your upper back and neck as you stared at him with fear and disgust.
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," he reminded, pulling out the communicator with his other hand. He slightly shook it, taunting you. "Don't you remember that actions have consequences?"
He pocketed the device as he slid his hand away from your mouth to bring it to the back of your neck, holding it tightly as he harshly pressed you against the cold wood. The side of your face ached, but, much to your horror, the pain only went straight to your cock.
"So just stand there and enjoy it," he said with a groan, his dick pulsing rhythmically as he savored the sensation of your walls clamping tightly around him. "Don't fight how much you like this."
"I don-" Just then, he rammed his cock into your prostate over and over, reducing you into a babbling mess that only proved his point.
Your eyes burned with unshed tears, ashamed that you loved the feeling of him so deep inside you, but you hated that it was him fucking you. You could feel the heat in your stomach intensify with each harsh thrust, feel the way your balls tightened in a way you knew you couldn't stop.
"Please..." you whimpered, weak against the wet slapping sounds that filled the office. "I don't want to...!"
You came with a whorish moan, arching your back as your cock spilled cum onto the floor. You could hear the sound of Dottore's laugh through the haze of your orgasm as sparks coursed through your veins, knees nearly buckling.
"Yes you do," he groaned, voice slightly strained. You could faintly hear his labored breathing the closer he got to his own orgasm, noticing the way his movements grew sloppier and weaker. He reached around again, jerking you off despite the lurking overstimulation.
You tightened, sending him right over the edge as he slammed his cock inside you a final time, pressing himself flush against your ass as he came. It was uncomfortably warm as he throbbed in time with each spurt, savoring the way you practically tried to milk him dry.
But he didn't let it last long as he pulled out with a satisfied sigh, enjoying the sight of you, shaky and vulnerable, before him. He graciously gave you a moment before commanding you to fix yourself, stepping back to adjust his own appearance.
"Now," he said, sternly, like he didn't just fuck you within a damn inch of your life. "Why don't you send a message to your organization stating that you're not going back."
He handed you the communicator with a smug smirk, relishing in your distress. Taking in a deep breath to steel your nerves, you accepted the device, reluctantly typing in a message before returning it back to him with regret written on your face.
"Oh, don't look so upset," he pouted, pocketing the device. You weren't sure when you'd see it again. "It'll be easier for you if you cooperate."
He made his way past you, opening the door, sending shivers down your spine at the sudden chill. "But right now, you have a lot of work to do."
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cross-posted on ao3
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tojjist · 10 months
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telling your fwb that you're going on a date w some of my favs!
includes: Itoshi Rin, Fushiguro Toji, Jing Yuan, gojo (seperate, not in order)
summary: you tell him you're going out on a date to see his reaction. includes fem! reader insert. slightly suggestive - honestly borderline smut, some possessiveness, one mention of cheating but it's a joke
note: characters n reader have mutual feelings, mostly acknowledged. i'm thinking of making this a series so drop your fav characters please! minors, blank and ageless blogs dni
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↳ITOSHI RIN
his initial reaction was to just roll his eyes at you.
"you're not funny. who would even go out with you?"
by now you're used to rin being an asshole. he's got a smart mouth and he knows what to say to get on your nerves. so you keep it to a simple, "not you, apparently," to shut him up.
and it does, for only a few minutes.
"why am I only hearing about this now?"
it's ironic how suddenly he's so in your business, unhappy with how you didn't tell him beforehand. rin tries so hard to keep himself in check, not giving you the reaction you wanted. but it devastated him; on his bed, in nothing but a pretty bra and a pair of panties, talking about some other man?
no, rin was not having it at all.
you almost snicker when he says you shouldn't be going out with 'other guys' because you two were having sex. but his argument quickly dies down when you remind him of the first rule he set when you started your nightly- and sometimes daily- sessions: "we're not exclusive"
he thinks of pushing you down the bed, getting his hands all over that pretty body of yours. you won't resist, that he's sure of, but he can't risk seeming desperate, especially not in front of you. that's pathetic.
he mumbles a few things along the lines of 'whatever' and 'let him fuck you with his micropenis'.
but rin is petty, he really is. at least when it comes to you. so he quickly turns to the silent treatment - as if he wasn't mostly silent. he wouldn't text you or respond to your calls for two whole days, which is more reaction than you would have liked. a lot more.
until you were out with some girl friends and you receive a notification.
Rin [2:34 pm]: how was the date.?
once you tell him it was a joke, and how he took your bait like a fish, it's safe to say he was less than pleased. the first thing he does is to invite you over. and as absurd as it is, he tells you to go to his place that very minute. which you don't mind too much.
rin made sure to remind you that no matter who you run to, he'll always be the only one who can please you so good. he's the only one who knows exactly how make you quiver and cry in little time. afterall, your pussy has long since been molded to remember him. aching for him every minute you wake and every second you sleep.
rin made sure you know your place. under him. no other man.
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↳ SATORU GOJO
gojo knows he's lucky, he really does. no woman took him the way you do. no woman understood him the way you do. no woman excited him the way you do, in all ways a man could be excited.
so when you tell him that? it's safe to say gojo was about to burst.
of course he is. you're his girl, whether you like it or not - which you do. you can't just go to another sleazy man when you have the strongest himself wrapped around your finger. that's unfair. and your reason? because you wanted to settle? heck, he'll 'settle' for you. he just needed some more time. can't you give him that at least?
"oh? with who?" "he's not a sorcerer, i don't think you know him."
first of all, why would you assume he doesn't know anyone who isn't a sorcerer? that's rude. although he doesn't, it's still rude. and why would you even go out with a non-sorcerer? what could be so special about him that gojo can't offer?
but gojo can't let you go. call it what you want, he's not planning on letting go.
he's not a jealous man. he's the strongest, he has everything a man could want. jealousy is a feeling he's yet to meet. but now it burns in him. although gojo's eyes were ice blue, now they're burning. and the hottest fires always burn blue.
as if second instinct, he's quick to pull you onto his lap, earning a yelp and a wide-eyed look. it's enough to know he's getting what he wants. his fingers reach for that clothed, soft spot between your legs. his long fingers begin to move, slow and steady, making your hips moves softly to the rhythm he's created, begging for more fritction.
his lips ghost against your ears, not exactly touching the sensitive skin but touching it all the same.
"i don't think i know him, no. but i'll make sure you forget him. you don't need a guy like that."
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↳FUSHIGURO TOJI
he stared at you for a few seconds, his gaze unreadable. toji is no fool, and he won't play your little game. especially not by your rules. toji is not bound by law, jujutsu, physical limit, or society. he won't let you mess around. not when he's so desperate to see you, albeit afraid of the commitment. not when he left his entire life, slowly becoming the perfect man so he could give you everything.
"what a silly joke. you know i'm not that dumb, don't you?"
he knows he's right when you stop for a fraction of a second, trying to contain your pretty smile. you deny, telling him that you're completely serious. you wanted a relationship, and you wanted to finally be able to be at 'peace'.
"oh really?" he quirks a brow, a look of clear amusement on his face. "that's too bad, i don't think women who cheat can find peace."
"it's just a single date, toji. i'm not cheating on him." "not yet," he flips you around so you're laying right under his bulk form. you giggle, and it confirms his suspicions further. you were just testing him. good, he'll make sure this stays just a joke.
"hmm? are you jealous, toji?" "of who?" he's quick. he's smart. and he won't let you mess around like that without getting something in return. he leans in, close to your neck. one of his hands find your waist, softly caressing the skin with calloused fingers. "we both know who you'll actually be with tonight."
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↳JING YUAN
the general was in love with you. absolutely, utterly, completely in love. he couldn't admit it, not to you or to himself. but as your nights with him turned from one while you're drunk to more than he could possibly count, you infatuated him. you invaded him, corrupting his thoughts and time and feelings.
yuan wasn't sure if he was right for you, although he knew you were right for him. he didn't want to jump into a relationship he was unsure could last. yuan didn't think he could give you what you want, and you sure as hell wouldn't back down from what you deserve. that's why he admired you so much. you weren't easy. you won't allow him to bend you to his liking. you were a challenge he enjoyed.
"hmm? who's the lucky gentleman?"
jealousy was obvious, clear as day. disdain dripped from his usually sweet words. yuan was not taking the news too well, and it shows despite his soft smile.
"kaoru," you say a name he doesn't know. "do you know him?"
"i don't recall someone with such a name," he confessed, his eyes narrowing in thought. he tries but he doesn't know anyone wit that name. "is he good looking?"
you smile a little at his reaction, pleased with the jealousy he's showing. "i don't know. he's not my type, but i'm exploring options."
"what am i then? an option?" you almost snicker at the amount of petty in his question. he wants to confirm his worth, make sure that he's above comparison to you.
"don't be cruel, yuan," you give him the satisfaction of an answer. "it's not like that."
yuan tries to convince you to stay, kissing all over your neck just how you like it, reminding you who you're with and how you need not find another man because it is yuan you belong with. before he knows it it's heated, and he finds himself craving you more than ever.
"i want you," he whispers, one hand tangled in your hair and breath ragged.
"i'm yours to take, yuan."
usually, that's enough for him. but jealousy thrums in him and he pushes a little of you, his expression dark but it's not lust this time. "you're not," he breathes. his eyes study your feverish eyes. "you're going out with another man."
your eyes widen, you were so lost in him you forgot.
"shut up," you pull him towards you, mouths meeting in a lewd kiss. "it was a joke. "
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likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!
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missmonsters2 · 10 months
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Mirror, Mirror | Two
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Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.
PART ONE
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.
Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.
*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*
Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
Count: ~4.5k
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?
The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be. 
There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?
Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot. 
"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.
"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."
"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long. 
"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.
"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"
Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."
"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."
"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.
"But—"
"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"
"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"
Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself. 
"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."
"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all! 
There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."
And another realization slides into place. 
"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word. 
Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"
Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather. 
"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."
"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."
You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."
Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end. 
Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present. 
The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month. 
The extra time was sorely appreciated. 
In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times. 
There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?
Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?
In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years. 
Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings. 
Probably. 
Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing. 
Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.
"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it. 
The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them. 
It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.
It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping. 
Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically. 
Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again. 
It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day. 
"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head. 
"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.
"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it. 
"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.
When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese. 
While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her. 
So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table. 
Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath. 
"Hi."
The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either. 
Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.
"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable. 
You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"
"Okay," Wanda replied warily. 
"Do you practice witchcraft?"
The question stumped Wanda.
"What?" 
"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious. 
"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"
"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."
Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her. 
"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"
Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang. 
"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."
Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old. 
After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda. 
Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship. 
You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened. 
Your parents divorced.
Wanda's mother passed away from cancer. 
You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after. 
You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care. 
Wanda started to date Vision.
Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her. 
You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it. 
Wanda's first break-up with Vision. 
You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott. 
When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you. 
Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.
"I'm home!" 
Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.
When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.
"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.
"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."
You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly. 
"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"
"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."
"Homesickness?"
"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."
"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"
Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."
"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."
Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence. 
This was everything, Wanda thought.
Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone. 
"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."
Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.
"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"
"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."
"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."
"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."
Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake. 
The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start. 
Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally. 
"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."
Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation. 
"THEY WOULD NEVER—"
"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."
"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"
"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."
The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts. 
"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.
"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."
"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."
"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible." 
"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."
"That's not true," Wanda protests.
"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."
"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."
"But—"
"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down. 
"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.
And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance. 
"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.
"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."
"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.
"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."
Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you. 
There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here. 
How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?
Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.
The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.
"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.
You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.
It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking. 
Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.
And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment. 
Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"
"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair. 
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda. 
"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing. 
"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."
Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"
"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself. 
The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it. 
Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder. 
Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it. 
Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself. 
Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.
Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth. 
As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.
It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge. 
After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.
Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving. 
"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"
Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."
"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer. 
"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.
"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date." 
"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up. 
"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."
Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.
Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all. 
PART THREE
1K notes · View notes
kingconia · 10 months
Note
Can we please please please PLEASE get a Vice Warden version of the "Reader is the characters favorite celebrity"
(obvi, Ortho is a child so if you add him make it platonic. But if you take him out maybe you can add Floyd instead! Plus RUGGIE CUZ HES THE UNOFFICIAL VICE )
Take your time and have fun with the request! If you end up not doing it, now worries lol!
A/N: I actually planned to do that for a while. Thank you for reminding me.
HOW TWISTED WONDERLANDS' VICE-HOUSEWARDENS ACT WHEN YOU ARE THEIR FAVOURITE CELEBRITY
Trey Clover. ❤️
— You are his favourite chef, of course. Who would've guess, right?
— You are a quite popular one, a former student of the Royal Academy, and very controversial figure in the media world, because... Well, you are quite talented, yes, but your attitude is just... Awful;
— Trey doesn't see anything that bad in your character, though! You might appear rude to adults, but he just loves how gentle you are with kids! Gordon Ramsay kinnie, you see;
— He is so. So. Happy, when Riddle accidentally asks you to be a chef for his birthday. A very lucky accident.
”Did I make that right?” Ace asks nervously, glancing at the bowl in his hand.
An event that Riddle Rosehearts plans is huge. Thousands of quests from all houses, completely different kitchens for each of them... So, of course, when students of Heartslabyul suggested to help you, you were happy.
Until you realised that they are chronical idiots.
You feel your blood boil, hands curling in fists.
Just how in the world this boy managed to mash raw carrot in fucking puree, when you asked him to cut it merely?! How?!
”You stupid donkey!” A yell that escapes your lips makes another two students, Deuce and Cater, shiver in fear. ”Get off!”
Ace instantly puts bowl on the table, taking a step back.
”M-me?”
”All of you!” You hiss, glaring at three of them. ”Out of this kitchen, idiots. And never, ever, come back here again!”
They shrink, running away instantly. You sigh in relief, but then, catch another figure, a taller one, moving after them.
Trey Clover.
”Hey,” you call for him, calmer this time. ”Where do you think you are going?”
Trey glances at you, completely surprised.
”Y/n-sama told everyone to leave,” he bows his head respectfully.
”Only to idiots,” you huff. ”You can stay, Trey.”
You actually noticed that out all of them, he worked more effectively. He knows how to cook, clearly, and he does so quickly and wordlessly. So, if anyone's help would be truly useful, it is his.
”...That would be a big honour for me, Y/n-sama.”
You smirk.
”Yeah, yeah. Come on. Let's finish here.”
Ruggie Bucchi. 💛
— You are his favourite true-crime blogger, lol. He watches your videos as he eats, and it annoys everyone, which also sometimes leaves him more food;
— You are actually not worldwide popular. You are just a student from NRC, from the Ignihyde, and sometimes, he catches your figure lurking around;
— Ruggie supports you from his side account, leaving a lot of comments, and likes, making other Savanaclaw watch videos, too. There is nothing more soothing that listening a gentle voice explaining how someone's body was dismembered, after all!
— Once, you decide to start a special event week: a true crimes connected to each house of the NRC. And Ruggie is especially exited for Savanaclaw video, only to find out that...
”Ah, you are Ruggie, correct?”
Ruggie flinches.
He recognises this voice from everywhere.
When he turns to the sound of the voice, he founds you, his favourite person in the world, standing in front of him. You look shy, as if it is not you, who constantly speaks of murders so eagerly.
”Y-yeah, hello, Y/n.”
...Shit, he shouldn't know your name.
”Hi!” You wave your hand. ”I am so sorry to bother you, but, I am busy with a project right now... It is connected with crimes in different locations that representing houses here. And, I spoke with Leona-sama this morning...”
Wow, you really caught Leona Kingscholar in the early morning? Awake? It is another proof for Ruggie's PowerPoint presentation about how cool and perfect you are!
”...But he told me that if anyone is better informed about crimes in Savanna, it is you, since, well, your class differences... I am so sorry, did it sound rude?”
Ruggie had never been happier to be poor.
”You came to the right person,” he exclaims with the coolest expression he has in his arsenal. ”Don't worry, Y/n. I will be your guide in the most darkest parts of the Afterglow Savanaclaw.”
You beam. He tries look collected, but fails.
”Ah, Ruggie, you are the best!”
It is going to be the best week in his life!
Leona-sama:
Brat
Firstly, she is fucking scary
Secondly you owe me for this one
Jade Leech. 🩵
— You are his favourite photographer. At first, you only share your works at art exhibitions, but recently you created a page in the Magicam, to have more connection with your followers;
— Jade is amazed by the way you see this world. How gracefully you present the nature, how gently you portrait people, and how skillfully you froze time! Ah, you are amazing!
— Jade always tries to see more of the world that was closed to him before, and your works are a great help for him;
— ...He is absolutely stunned, when Azul tells him that payed you to come to the opening of the renewed Monster Lounge as the photographer, though.
Jade is... Slightly frustrated.
To think, that Azul had an opportunity to employ a walking talent for a few hours, and he used this chance to take photos of the Lounge... Impossible!
He sighs.
He respects Azul, of course, but sometimes he is such a baby.
”Good evening,” Jade greets you with a polite smile on his face, hoping to conceal his genuine amazement. ”How is here to your liking?”
You are straightening your back, stopping taking pictures of the main hall. As you turn to Jade, your eyes lit up curiously.
”You must be... Jade, correct?”
You know his name.
”Indeed, I am,” he nods.
”Thank you, it is fine,” you shift from one foot to another, and he can say there is something you want to do. ”Ah, excuse me, but... Can I ask you something?”
Jade nods again, tilting his head on the left. What with your great mind came up this time?
”...Am I allowed to take a few photos of you?”
Now, it is his turn to be surprised.
If anything, Jade has never been an interesting subject for others' eyes. But here you are, his favourite person in the world, wishing to take his photos—
”Are you sure?” As you nod vigorously, he can't help but laugh shortly. ”Then, of course. Do as you please.”
But if you see it in him, something charming and breathtaking, then there are must be he something. Because you are never wrong.
...And when on the next morning, Azul asks him to explain why the fuck there is Jade's photos instead of Monster Lounge's, as they had an agreement with you, he shrugs.
’You asked me to show others the beauty of your Lounge,’ you write Azul later, absolutely unremorseful. ’And I did.’
Oh, you can't even understand how happy you made a certain someone!
Floyd Leech. 🩵
— Do you know those accounts of tarot and astrology readers, who constantly goes live to speak with audience and made them an online reading? Yes, Floyd adores you for this;
— I feel that he sincerely curious about all this stuff, and though, at first, it was only an aesthetic interest as he found you pretty, now, he is too deep in this to pull out;
— He listens to your everyday advice videos religiously, and I am not even kidding. He trusts you too much, and at some point Jade starts worrying about him;
— Floyd is absolutely reckless and shameless, so, of course, he decides to make a first move unexpectedly and openly.
”Since it is a Lover's day, I might as well today be more focused on romantic readings,” you warn, shuffling cards in your hands, eyes fixated on the chat. ”So, write first name of yours, and, your lover's, and both of your ages. Will see how it goes.”
Tarot cards have been a huge part of your life since you were a kid, watching your mom and aunt doing that, whispering quietly. It was only natural that eventually you became an esoteric, too.
It is not your work or main to-do thing, more like a hobby, and an instrument to help others. And most of the time, you are doing it for free. Unless, someone wants to pay you, of course.
”Hm, who is here...”
You see a familiar username.
Floyd Leech is a quite constant fan of yours, always liking your videos, commenting them ridiculously, and asking questions about this and that. So, you decide to start with him. Just ouf of respect.
”Floyd, seventeen and... Y/n, whatever your age is,” you read out aloud.
As you understand what that meant, your cheeks flush instantly. You almost drop your tarot on the floor.
Is he trying to hit on you?! Just like that?!
”I... Uhm...”
What should you do? You spoke with him a few times, yes, and it has been more or less fine? Yet... Urgh.
You take a random card from the bottom of it.
Lovers.
Shit.
”You have some good chances here, Floyd” you finally manage to say that aloud, looking away from camera. ”Just be more forward. And private.”
There is no answer—or it gets lost in many new comments—and you distract yourself with other followers. Until a notification appears on the top of your phone.
Floyd_Leech:
hi :)
You almost groan.
What an impossible man?!
Jamil Viper. 🧡
— Might be not entirely accurate, but you are his favourite book critic! I feel, like whenever Jamil has some time to himself, he reads, and if he doesn't, he listens to all these podcasts or three hours long videos about why a certain book good or bad;
— He finds you accidentally, and since then obsessively checks out your every video, even the oldest ones. Puts notifications on. Follows on other social media. Loves your content;
— He is definitely a more quiet supporter. He likes your videos, but never comments them. So, there is no direct contact between two of you;
— At least, until he bumps into you by accident. In Scalding Sands. On the summer holidays. How insane is that?
Jamil knows that you travel a lot, he has seen your highlights in Magicam, but how could he expect to meet you in the bazar of all places?! This place is noisy, awful and there is nothing beautiful or picturesque! What would you do here? And with a book in your hands, too.
”The sands of Love,” title says.
It sounds ridiculous already.
”Shit,” you hiss, rubbing his shoulder with your free hand. ”I am sorry.”
”Please, be careful,” he murmurs quietly, trying to act normal as if he doesn't update your channel every morning and night in the search of new content.
Anyway, Jamil is slightly freaking out. Just a little.
”I am trying, but this book is so awful, I want to die,” he chuckles fondly, a familiarity of your words that you say so often from the screen on his phone, softening him. ”You know, I bought this goddamn book, and the setting of it is here, like, in Scalding Sands. So, I came here to check some details. Like traditions, and, and stuff. And you know, it is all a fucking bullshit—”
So, you made your way to here just to... Criticise an obviously bad book with even more reasoning?
God, he loves you.
”...And, and...” You stutted. Blushing suddenly, you sigh. ”I am so sorry. I shouldn't be dumping that on you.”
Jamil tries his best to offer you a rare smile of his.
”Oh, but I am interested now. Would you mind continue telling me about this book?” He can't help but notice how cutely your eyes lit up. ”But not here, obviously. Please, let's go. I will find a quieter place for you.”
...Seems, like all his luck was saved just for this moment to happen, because you actually follow him, continuing your blabbering.
What a beautiful day it is.
Rook Hunt. 💜
— You are his favourite opera singer! When Rook sees you for the first time, he is in awe. Your beauty, your voice — it is everything. He knows, just from the first sight, that he will be a Phantom of Opera for your Christine;
— He buys the best, and I must stay, the most expensive places for your opera, but keeps himself hidden away for a while. Doesn't need to be seen, he is in his studying sessions;
— Rook is not pleased if you are not a leading singer. He will make everything for this fact to change in future. Would giggle if overhears you saying how lucky you are... If you want him to be your luck, then so be it;
— When Rook is sure that his work more or less done, and he is ready, he will finally meet with you personally.
”It is a shame I never noticed you before,” you shake your head, cheeks darkened from the amount of complements you had heard in past ten minutes. ”And you've been here for me from my debut? I am so flattered...”
A boy in front of you smiles eagerly, pressing another warm kiss on the back of your hand.
”Ah, mon inspiration, it is me who is blessed and grateful for being able to witness something so beautiful and generous... The rise of the angel of Opera, indeed!”
His eyes are shining with a pure awe. You almost squirm, when Rook falls on his knees, cheek pressing to your well-kissed hand. You are fighting a wish to caress his cheek just as you do with your cat at home.
”If Gods ever existed, at least one of them, it must be you, their last creation, a gift for dying civilisation!”
”Ah, Rook,” you giggle, getting more and more shy with each second. ”Please... Maybe, you want to... See with me later? Beyond these walls? I mean... Don't get me wrong, of course, it is just...”
It might be a risky movement, you know. Yet, you can't help but feel attracted to the person, who stares at you as if you are the Creator yourself.
”I would be more than glad, mon ange,” his voice becomes quieter, yet, a little more nervous. ”I love that one café in front of this opera, if you care to know. I often order there their special drink... The fall of the Devil, isn't it?”
You blink in surprise.
”That is my favourite, too!” You exclaim enthusiastically.
”Really?” Somehow, he doesn't really look surprised. ”Well, then, after getting drinks, we, perhaps, could see the Art Gallery... Had you ever seen a whole room dedicated to the minerals from different countries? It is my favourite one.”
Your chest warms.
”Mine too!”
You hope it doesn't look like you try to impress him by mirroring his answers, but it is really this way.
Seems, like Rook just knows everything you love!
”I feel like we are a perfect match, mon destin.”
And, somehow, you can't disagree.
Lilia Vanrouge. 💚
— This man is hard to impress... But, you are his favourite... Psychologist. Alright, I know it sounds ridiculous, but I think, considering the fact that he was the general for a long time, never caring about human emotions before, and then suddenly adopted three idiots, and that with having his own trauma, he takes a great interest in the psychology;
— So, when he accidentally finds your account, where you speak of different problems, navigate people through theirs, and merely discussing different situations in the world from the point of psychology, he dives in;
— I don't think that Lilia goes on appointment, though. I think, he masters psychology through your channel, instead. He is such a self-taught and crazy-ass talented person;
— When you are invited to work as a school psychologist in the NRC, since Crowley realised that overbolts might or might not be because of lacking a one, Lilia is actually really excited. And he doesn't hide it!
”Seeing how mature you are, how healthy you analyse all these situations with overbolted students,” you make a small sip of tea, smirking shortly, ”I can't help but feel slightly proud of myself.”
Lilia laughs quietly, extending you more chocolate muffins that he obtained from the cafeteria just for you.
Since from the first day, two of you became a great friends. And, though, of course, it is you who should take care of him—since he is a student as well—Lilia yet can't help but worry about how much you work, skipping meals constantly, because, apparently, everyone wants your help.
”You are great at what you are doing, Y/n-sama,” he smiles mischievously.
Though both of you are quite old, centuries of life long ago left behind, there is a certain childishness inside of you, that you prefer to call a healthy life enjoyment. A term that Lilia now uses every time when someone tries to lecture him about being too immature.
”Thank you, thank you, Lilia-kun,” you bow your head jokingly. ”But, seriously, I need a proper schedule with all of these kids. But they just can't stop coming... I don't know what is so traumatising about this school, honestly. It is about lessons?”
Lilia laughs.
”Maybe. I mean, my genuine wish to start a massacre returns sometimes, when headmaster comes on our lessons...”
You smack him slightly, chuckling softly.
”I see, now. Honestly, after meetings with him, I too, search for the professional help...”
As both of you laugh, Lilia watches you relaxing eventually.
Ah, who would've thought that a person who helped him unconsciously once, would eventually became his friend?.. What a crazy world he lives in!
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753 notes · View notes
ilovepedro · 8 months
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Deja Vú | javier pena x f!reader
Series masterlist | Main masterlist
Chapter 2 - ‘Cause in my mind I want you here
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Chapter summary: After a long day, you schedule your date with Chris. The next day, you decide you need a distraction: shopping. While shopping for something suitable for your upcoming date, strange coincidences occur throughout the day, including an encounter with Cassandra and Javier.
Chapter warnings: reader has some bouts of deja vu (hehehe), reader spirals a lot in this chapter, flirting, no smut (stay with me now!), miscommunication trope, encounter with Cassandra, encounter with Javi, angst, mutual pining, Javi is still a stupid, oblivious asshole because he's a man, reader speaks and understands Spanish, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, translations available at end of chapter.
Word count: ~3.1k
A/N: i know, still no smut, but bear with me! i promise the third and final chapter will be smut galore! i just have to set the story up so they can have narsty, in-love, makeup sex :P not beta’d, all mistakes are my own
Divider by @saradika
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You reach your apartment building again, wheeling your cart down through the lobby and to the stairs. Exhaustion creeps up on you as you replay all the events from today in your head, every emotion racing through your mind. You stop yourself before you can spiral, reminding yourself of Chris - eager to have a better night.
Arriving at your door, you unlock it and lug all your groceries inside. You quickly put everything away and head into the bathroom. You turn the shower on and twist the knob to the hottest setting, stripping down while it heats up. Entering the shower, you bask in the scalding water as it washes off the events of this shitty day. Stepping out of the shower, you wrap yourself in your towel and apply your skincare. Feeling refreshed, you saunter into your bedroom. Normally, you slip on a t-shirt Javi’s left behind, but that’s out of the question.
Sporting a tank top and sleep shorts, you walk into the kitchen and pour yourself a healthy glass of wine. The bottle already opened from sharing it with Javi two days ago on Sunday before hooking up. With all the strength in your being, you push past the urge to spiral. Downing the wine, you refill your glass to the brim - you deserve it.
As you whip around to settle on the couch with your wine and a movie, your phone rings. You roll your eyes, not in the mood to talk to anybody, and sigh as you pick up the phone. “Hello?” Your voice is monotonous and blasé. “Hi. This is Chris Feistl, from the market earlier.” Your eyes go wide at the sound of his voice.
“Oh hi! I’m so sorry if I sounded rude just now! Long day,” you mutter apologetically. “No worries. Trust me, I get it,” he says. “So… were you thinking of me the rest of the day?” You playfully tease, a real grin on your face now. “I sure was, if I’m honestly speaking. You’re just really beautiful and I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he confidently says. 
Heat courses through your veins as you grow flustered from his boldness. It feels nice to be truly wanted, however you can’t help but feel a little guilty for not thinking of him for the majority of the day. Having mostly served as a distraction from Javi. “Hello? You still there?” Chris’ voice pulls you out of your trance. You’ve got to stop spacing out.
“Hi! Yes, sorry, I’m here,” you meekly say. “Sorry, did I come on too strong?” You can hear the confidence waver in his voice. “No, no! Not at all, you’re very charming. I’m just not used to being flirted with so openly,” you tell him earnestly. “Well, hopefully I can change that. A beautiful woman like you deserves to be showed off,” he says, confidence returning to his voice now. 
You smile at his sweetness. “You’re too kind,” feeling bashful. “Are you free on Friday night? I’d love to show you off a bit, if that’s alright with you,” His smile is evident over the phone. “I am free on Friday, and that’s more than alright with me,” you say, biting back your bottom lip. “Awesome. Would you like to have dinner with me? I could either pick you up at 8 or have a car sent to you? Or we could just meet there, whatever you’re comfortable with,” he asks, rambling a bit. “Send a car? Oh, you’re fancy, huh? You didn’t tell me you were rich,” you tease. He barks out a laugh. “No, I’m not rich. My job just provides transportation, so it’s an option if you’d like,” he says through his laughter.
“I’m just messing with you, but I’d love to have dinner with you. And how about I meet you at the restaurant? Then, we’ll see where the night takes us. Who knows… maybe you’ll end up back at my place,” you banter. “Sounds good, like I said, whatever you’re comfortable with. And I like the sound of that,” he smugly says. You can’t help the boisterous laugh that escapes you at his playfulness.
You haven’t laughed all day, so this feels nice - natural. “You have a very pretty laugh,” he says. “Thank you, are you always this smooth?” You meekly ask, his flirting sends another wave of heat through your body. “Only with you.” You smack your lips and roll your eyes, both your smiles evident over the other line as a brief comfortable silence settles over you two. 
“So, there’s this really nice restaurant not too far from my job, I can give you the address whenever you’re ready,” he says, breaking the silence. “Give me one second,” you say while scrambling for a pen and paper. “Okay, what’s the address?” He tells you the name and address of the restaurant, you scribble it down.
“Alright, Chris. I’ll let you go. It was so nice talking to you again. I’m looking forward to seeing you. I’ll see you on Friday at 8,” you tell him, smiling into the phone. “Sounds good. It was nice talking to you again too. Looking forward to seeing you too. See you Friday, pretty lady,” he says, bidding you goodbye.
A dreamy sigh escapes you as you place the phone back on the receiver, Javi forgotten once more. You re-read the name of the restaurant again before plopping down on the couch. It looks oddly familiar, like you’d heard or seen the name of it before. The address definitely sounds familiar. Shrugging, you don’t question it further. You turn on the tv and continue to forget about Javi for the rest of your night.
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You wake the next morning, static blaring from the tv and with a crick in your neck as you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Stretching and massaging your neck, you rise to your feet to clean the mess you’d left on your coffee table. You pad into the kitchen to put your dirty glass in the sink, and chug a glass of water. The amount of wine you had created a dull ache behind your eyeballs. You prepare and scarf down 2 eggs and some toast with your glass of water.
Waltzing into the bathroom, you freshen up and get ready for the day. While choosing an outfit from your closet, you realize you don’t have anything nearly fancy enough for the restaurant you’ll be going to with Chris on Friday night. You’re off today, so you decide to go shopping for a new outfit while getting dressed.
You slip on your sneakers, grab your purse and keys, and head out on your journey. You cautiously walk through the stairwell and lobby, in fear of bumping into Cassandra, or worse, Javi. Desperately fighting off any thoughts of the two of them, you stroll down to a small boutique not far from your apartment.
Sifting through the racks for what feels like hours, you begin to feel defeated as nothing has caught your eye or wasn’t what you envisioned when you tried it on. You turn to walk out the store 'til something silky shines from the corner of your eye. A satin red dress glistens in the fluorescent light. You rush to grab it off the rack before anyone else can and ask to try it on. You’re led to a fitting room and hope and pray it fits.
It’s a perfect fit, making you feel sexy - never having owned a dress like this before. You wonder what Javi - Chris. You wonder what Chris will think of it, hoping he’ll love it. You’re going out with Chris. You’re shopping for your date with Chris, not Javi. You hadn’t thought about Javi since yesterday and you’re not about to start now. Shaking him from your thoughts, you slip off the dress and hang it back on the hanger. Getting dressed, you wonder how the hell Javi managed to worm his way back into your brain. You gather your things and go to checkout, paying for the dress and making your way home.
Walking home, you spot your friend and favorite vendor, Ana. She’s the woman you buy cocadas from. You smile and wave to her. “Hola Ana!” You say, politely while walking up to her. “Hola mija! Cómo estás? Cómo estaban las cocadas?” She asks. You tense up at the innocent question, reminded of Javi again. “Bien y usted? Y las cocadas muy bien! Estaban delicioso como siempre,” you tell her, fighting back the urge to frown. “Bien mija, gracias. Y toma un poco más, para ti y Javier!”
At the mention of his name, you see a man in a pink shirt from the corner of your eye - you’d know that pink shirt anywhere. Of course he’d be here when you’re trying to avoid him. You can’t contain the gasp that escapes you as you stare at the man. “Qué pasó, mija? Está todo bien?” Ana’s voice brings you back down to Earth, making you catch a better glimpse of the man in pink. He's wearing sunglasses, but not aviators - and he's shorter than Javi.
Realizing it’s not Javi, you sigh in relief. “Lo siento, Ana. Me pareció ver algo, una niña casi se cae,” you apologize, lying in the midst to avoid explaining what’s going on with Javi. “Está bien. Bueno, toma un poco más por favor,” she tells you, holding out a fresh bag of cocadas. She is too sweet for her own good. 
“Estas segura? Déjame pagarte, por favor,” “No es problema, mija. Eres mi cliente favorita,” she says with a reassuring smile and a wink. Your heart melts at her kindness, reluctantly taking the bag from her. “Muchas gracias, Ana,” you say, reaching to embrace her. “De nada, mija. Que tenga un buen día, ok? Y dale a Javier mi amor,” she says. Your lips pull into a tense smile at the mention of him again and the use of the word 'love.' “Lo haré. Que tenga un buen día!” You say, unintentionally rushing home as your feet carry you faster than normal.
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You pull out your keys and open the main entrance. Sighing, you mindlessly rub your hands over your face as you try to process your almost-meltdown earlier. As you walk up the stairs and onto the second floor, you hear a woman laughing from downstairs - that same familiar laughter from yesterday. You still, tensing up in the hallway.
Your feet move before you can realize it and you peek over the railing of the stairs. There she is - the same woman who was with Javi in the lobby. A small gasp escapes you and you move to scurry away, but not before you drop your keys to the tile floor in the quiet building, causing a loud clang and garnering unwanted attention. The conversation downstairs stops, the people looking up to find the source of commotion.
The woman spots you, making direct eye contact with you. She gives you a blank stare while the man she’s talking to says hello to you. “Hola, mija. Estás bien?” Your downstairs neighbor, Mr. Sanchez, greets you. “Hola señor Sanchez. Sí, estoy bien. Lo siento para el ruido,” you politely say, flashing him and the woman an apologetic smile as you pick up your keys. “Está bien, mija. Esta es mi sobrina Cassandra.” 
You shoot her a polite smile. “Hola Cassandra.” “Hola,” she bites, glaring at you. Her coldness catches you by surprise. You suspect she remembers you from earlier. Her uncle scolds her rudeness, oblivious to tension in the air.
“Cómo estás, mija? Hace tiempo que no te veo.” He says with a smile, shifting the conversation towards him. “Yo sé, lo siento. Necesito visitar más pero estoy bien. Y usted?” “Bien, mija. Gracias. Y sí, ven a cenar pronto!” He says enthusiastically. “Eso estaría bien, lo haré. Bueno… que tengan un buen dia, señor Sanchez y Cassandra,” you say. “Gracias, mija. Y usted también,” Mr. Sanchez says with a smile and a wave. Cassandra doesn’t say anything, her arms crossed and her hardened gaze fixated on you.
You turn and exhale a deep sigh, making your way to your apartment. All you want to do is hide away from the world after another weird day. With your gaze turned down to the floor, you don’t see the person in the hallway before bumping into them. You stumble back, a hand catching you before you hit the ground. “Lo siento mu-,” you begin to apologize, stopping midway as you look up. Javi stands before you, funnily enough in the pink shirt you thought you saw earlier.
Gasping, you yank your arm out of his grasp as if you’d been burned. “You okay?” He asks. “I’m fine,” you bite. You want to leave, but your feet are glued to the floor. “How are you, cariño?” He awkwardly asks. The nickname snaps you out of it, taking a step forward. “Why do you care? And stop calling me that,” you grit, pushing a finger into his chest. “Why do I care? So, I can’t ask how you’re doing anymore either?” He asks. “I said I'm fine,” you seethe. “That's not what I meant and you know it. You’re my best friend, and I know when something’s wrong," he says. “Do I know what you mean?" You sarcastically ask, already tired of this conversation. "Huh? I haven’t spoken to you since yesterday morning. I’m just trying to figure out why you shut me out with no explanation,” he says firmly, genuinely offended by your words. "I don’t owe you an explanation, the same way you don’t owe me one,” you respond curtly, attempting to leave. “An explanation? What do I need to explain?” He asks, genuinely confused. You open your mouth to go off on him, but are cut off before you can speak.
“Javier!” You hear that same voice, the one you heard just moments ago. You twirl around and see Cassandra standing at the end of the hall. Javi looks like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to do. The bitterness creeps up in your throat like bile. “Have fun with your new best friend, since you only want to fuck them anyway,” you spit, tears welling in your eyes as you push past him. Of course she’s here to see him again. He must be on lunch, seeing her on his break.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tears sting in the corner of your eyes, scoffing at his words as you whip back around to face him. “Please don’t play dumb with me, Javier. Oh, and these are for you, just as promised. Ana says hi, by the way,” you tell him, aggressively shoving the cocadas into his hold. You turn to storm off.
“Querida,” he says, defeat and confusion lacing his voice. “Stop! Just… please. Leave me alone, Javier,” your choke out, voice hoarse and trembling, barely above a whisper. You practically sprint to your apartment. Javi internally battles the urge to go after you, ultimately choosing to leave you alone. His brain short-circuits as he tries to figure out what your words meant. He recalls your words from Sunday night, confused as you’d said he could see other people. “Hola, Javier,” Cassandra purrs in his ear, pulling him out of his trance. “Hola, Cassandra,” he sighs, giving her a hug and a peck on the cheek. He sneaks one last look down the hall.
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You reach your apartment. Regrettably, you steal a glance down the hallway. You feel your heart crack into a million pieces. Javi and Cassandra stand there in an embrace, his lips brushing against her cheek as she smiles. Javi looks down the hall and makes direct eye contact with you. Your bottom lip wobbles as his brows scrunch together and his lips droop. You run inside and throw the bag that contains your dress on the counter, finally allowing the tears you’ve been holding back to cascade down your face. Rushing to your bedroom, you plop down onto your bed and curl into a ball as sobs wrack your body.
Your mind races with a million thoughts. How did Cassandra meet Javi? She obviously has family members who live in the building, but how did they meet? How long have they known each other? Why is this whole thing bothering you so much? Do you have feelings for Javi? Is that why? And does he have feelings for her? Why does he not have feelings for you? Not that it’d matter. Are you not good enough to be in a relationship with him? Is he embarrassed to be seen with you? What does Cassandra have that you don’t? Why did he lie? Did you do something to upset him? You knew having that conversation two nights ago was a mistake - you knew it wouldn’t go in your favor.
You unintentionally sob yourself into a deep sleep, giving your brain and heart a break from everything. You stir from your slumber, glancing at the clock. It’s 7 o’clock. You accidentally slept for 4 hours. Your head throbs and your eyes burn. You rub your temples to soothe the ache. A knock at your door grabs your attention. Rising from your feet, you pad to the front door and peer into the peephole. No one is there, but you see a bouquet of flowers resting on the floor.
Reluctantly opening your door, you reach for the bouquet and see that there’s a small note attached to the flowers. You remove the note and read what it says, confused as to who would leave you flowers. Chris doesn’t have your address so you have no clue who these could be from.
“I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you so upset with me. I hope we can fix things and go back to the way things were. I miss my best friend. -Javi.”
You can’t contain the bitter scoff that leaves your lips, rolling your eyes and angrily laughing. Taking a step back, you slam the door and lock it. He thinks he can fix everything with fucking flowers? How could he be so oblivious? Rage boils in your blood, shaking as you rip up the note. You toss it in the trash along with the flowers. How fucking dare he?
Dragging yourself to the tap, you pour yourself a glass of water and chug it. While rummaging for ingredients to whip up a quick dinner, you spot the bag with the dress you bought earlier on the counter - before your day went to shit. It reminds you of Chris and the date you have with him in 3 days, a genuine smile makes its way onto your face.
You pull it out of the bag, dinner forgotten as you go to try it on again. The red satin flatters you, feeling sexy as the hem stops mid-thigh and reveals your chest and back. Javi once said red was your col-, you immediately shake that thought from your head. He doesn’t deserve any of your energy. Twirling in the mirror, you feel giddy anticipating your date on Friday. You can’t wait to see Ja - Chris… Chris’ reaction when he sees you in the dress.
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Translations:
Cómo estás? - how are you?
Cómo estaban las cocadas? - how were the cocadas?
Bien y usted? - good and you?
Estaban deliciosos como siempre - they were delicious as always
Toma un poco más, para ti y Javier - take a few more, for you and Javier
Qué pasó, mija? - what happened, mija?
Está todo bien? - is everything okay?
Lo siento, Ana. Me pareció ver algo, una niña casi se cae - i’m sorry Ana. i thought i saw something, a little girl almost fell
Estas segura? - are you sure?
Déjame pagarte por favor - let me pay you please
No es problema, eres mi cliente favorita - it’s no problem, you’re my favorite customer
Que tenga un buen día - have a good day
Dale a Javier mi amor - give Javier my love
Lo haré - i will
Lo siento para el ruido - sorry for the noise
Está es mi sobrina - this is my niece
Hace tiempo que no te veo - i haven’t seen you in a while
Necesito visitar más - i need to visit more
Ven a cenar pronto - come over for dinner soon
Eso estaría bien - that would be nice
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Javi is such a stupid jackass, i’m sorry y’all 😭
but i hope y'all are enjoying the buildup! the third and final chapter is when shit is going to hit the fan! 🤭
tag list: @undrthelights @gracieheartsspedro @jenispunk @nostalxgic @mandoisapunk @party-hearses @bastardmandennis @tinygarbage @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @daydreamingmiller @javierpena-inatacvest @chaotic-mystery @amanitacowboy @factualfic @pascalpvnk @joeldjarin @kirsteng42 @pedrohoe04 @callmecath1 @sydneyinacoma @persephone-girl @suagmiller @honey-dip-24 @lizlil @thevoiceinyourheadx @harriedandharassed @xthejazzdalorianx @antifragilejpn @evangelinemedici @innerpersonunknown @vickie5446
if your name is crossed out, it means i couldn’t tag you ):
185 notes · View notes
gingerlee-holds · 19 days
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The Puppet Master, Part 2
The long, long awaited sequel! This one is brutal heehee so if you prefer gentle twords, read my other fics for that! But a very very flustered cutie has been waiting for this for a loooong time, and who am I to deny her what she needs heehee!! I hope you enjoy!!
Written for @featherfoxx, thank you to @devious-bliss for the inspiration!
Word Count: 2,953 Reading Time: About 12 minutes Warnings: hand restraints, feet twords, hard tickling, implied mind magic
Before we begin, keep in mind that this is a reader self-insert! Now, without further ado, let me tell you how exactly you were tworded to fucking bits heehee
All that night, you blushed and squirmed through tickly dreams. You awoke at multiple points throughout the early morning hours, curled up in a ball, blushing and sweating from a ruthless puppet master playing with your subconscious. No matter what you did to distract yourself, it seemed like that pesky little magician snuck back in to ensure you hadn’t forgotten how ticklish and vulnerable you were. Squirming around and holding your favorite stuffed animal over your bright red face, it felt like this had been intentional; that sneaky puppeteer had delicately wrapped your mind in her yarn, and ever since you had visited her, you felt that yarn occasionally pulled on, filling your head with flustering, tickly thoughts. You, of course, had no way of proving this - as it was most likely your imagination making it worse for yourself - but the idea that the ginger in the purple suit had somehow fiddled with your brain was enough to fill you with a playful determination.
After the third wake-up, still kind of feeling the fuzzy ears of a fox puppet around your collarbone, you were resolved. ‘That’s it! She’s not getting away with this!’ you thought to yourself. ‘I refuse to be her plaything!’ And having made up your mind to acquire retribution, you spent the rest of the night hatching a bold plan: you would catch her by surprise and give that pesky magician a taste of her own medicine!
After a night fraught with ghostly pokes and phantom scribbles, dawn came at last, and you arose with a fire in your soul, burning for vengeance. Quickly throwing on a band t-shirt and some jorts, you grabbed a makeup brush, a spool of your bright red yarn, a few fuzzy feathers, and - grinning evilly - a brand new electric toothbrush, setting it all into a backpack along with a few water bottles. You put on some sandals and set off toward the park. You were ready.
The carnival had just opened when you arrived, which, in a way, was much more amusing than you had anticipated. A yawning attendant gave you a bag of crackerjack for free, chuckling and saying he “can’t be bothered finding the receipt printer.” You almost burst out laughing when you saw someone in clown makeup scrolling through their phone while dressed in street clothes. The carnival in the morning reminded you of a college student - wild and carefree, partying with reckless abandon into the night, only to be rudely awakened the following morning to set it all up again. It’s no coincidence that the circus visiting your town was primarily staffed by college-aged folks.
Nevertheless, you soon found the tent you were looking for. The purple and green tent looked just as cozy as it had the night before, but the sign in front differed. It read: “The Puppet Master Returns Tonight @ 6! You won’t want to miss it!” Instead of being pulled invitingly open, the tent flaps were shut tight, except for a tiny bit at the bottom where the flaps had pulled apart slightly. ‘Perfect!’ you thought.
Crawling inside, you were surprised at how little the mood in the tent had changed. The lighting inside was cozy, as it had been last night, even though the sun was out. The sounds of birdsong outside faded, too, and if you didn’t know any better, you could even say that you had entered some kind of pocket dimension. No doubt some more of that magician’s trickery. Everything looked as it had: the plush floor, the stage, the curtains… but where was the Puppet Master?
Only one of the curtains was closed, but the other was still open, showing the stage. All of the puppets had been put away in a toy chest, and beside it, your target slept, snuggled to a pillow. The Puppet Master looked different; where she had been chubby before, now she was somewhat skinnier. Her hair was longer and messier, but that was most likely the fault of her sleep. Instead of her suit, she wore a pair of fuzzy pajamas and socks and a cartoonish nightcap drooped over her head. A snorer, too, you observed as you approached. The pillow was less to support her and more to give her something to hold onto, and she cuddled it close. She almost looked too cute to tickle, but you knew your mission. 
‘It’s too easy,’ you said to yourself, holding onto the straps of your backpack and beginning to approach the stage confidently. You made it about halfway before shenanigans struck. 
The plush, comfy floor you walked on seemed to provide less and less support as you went on, each step sinking you deeper into the softness beneath. Once you were halfway, you had sunk into the plushness up to your waist, and, grumbling, you pulled yourself forward. Instead of a mattress, this plushness reminded you of a foam pit, and after a few more steps, you were completely stuck. The surrounding plush floor held you snugly up to your chest, and much to your dismay, it had now become too difficult to pull yourself out. Moreover, you quickly discovered that you couldn’t pull back either: you were stuck in the comfy, foamlike, plush floor, conformed to your body shape entirely. 
“The hell is this!” you muttered out loud by mistake. Unfortunately for you, the Puppet Master softly snorted as she awoke, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She reached over, picked up a pair of round glasses, scratched her head, and stood up to see her intruder. 
The sight of you, frustrated with the floor and confused at your predicament, sent her into hysterics. “Heeheeheeheehee! Ohohooh, dehehearrr!!” she laughed, hugging herself around her belly. “I-ihihihit seeeheeheems- heehehehehee!! - thahat sohomeone was a lihittle eager to return~!!”
Growling in humiliation, you hung your head to hide your face. The element of surprise had been entirely lost!
The sleepy girl before you padded over softly on her fuzzy socks, hopping off the stage and onto the plush floor, which didn’t sink under her as it did for you. Giggling helplessly at your condition, she laid down in front of you on her stomach, swinging her feet in the air behind her as she booped your nose. “Hey there again, cutie pie! Missed me that much~?” 
You said nothing, doing your best to retain your dignity.
“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me, huh~?” You suddenly looked up at her. She smiled as if she had known what your night had been like for you. Giggling at your shocked face, she continued, “Oh, you’re too precious. Don’t worry, hun! It’s only natural!” She reached over and ruffled your hair. “Anyone who needs this place finds it! That way, I can play with only the people I know will enjoy it as much as I do!” The Puppet Master suddenly tugged the air in front of your forehead, and all at once, your mind rushed with tickly thoughts and teases, all the memories of yesterday pushing forward and coloring your cheeks a bright red. It was her all along!
As you racked your mind trying to make sense of this information, you were interrupted by a sudden stream of bubbly giggles emerging from your throat. The Puppet Master’s head-scratching reached your neck, and her nails gently traced around and around. She smiled fondly, her whole expression painted with affection at your adorable glee.
“Now, let’s see whatcha brought! I’m super curious!” She crawled around behind you and sat, happily picking up your backpack.
“No, no! Don’t look in there!” you hastily said, but she had already unzipped it and was looking through its items. 
“Oh! New yarn, looks like! And… feathers? Is that a makeup brush…? Hmm…” She went silent for a bit, and you jumped when you suddenly heard her voice right in your ear: “Trying to get revenge, huh~?” she purred. “How absolutely adorable you humans are, thinking you can outsmart me~!”
Well, that cleared a lot up. She wasn’t human! That’s how she had all that power! What was she??
“Hey!” Her snapping her fingers in each ear brought your attention back. “Got a question for ya!” Pulling your bag of tools behind her, she crawled back to where you could see her. “Have you ever heard of Cat’s Cradle?”
Tilting your head a bit in confusion, you nodded. “Yeah, it’s that kids game with the string.” 
“Y’ever played?”
“Few times, while ago.”
She clapped her hands happily. “Perfect!” she exclaimed. The magician pulled out your red yarn from the bag but, to your shock, pulled out an identical spool of pink yarn after it. She unspooled a long string of each and cut it with a simple tug. “Okay, here’s yours!” she said, handing you your red yarn while she held the pink one. “Watch me. Try to follow along.”
Seeing as you didn’t have anything else to do, you sighed and tried your best to follow along as she skillfully began creating the Cat’s Cradle. She giggled a tiny bit when she finished, setting her yarn down to help you out by tugging the yarn here and moving your fingers there. In the end, you held a rather complex and beautifully made string figure between your fingers!
“Bravo! Oh, you’re remarkable at this!” She clapped again, making you smile sheepishly. However, it didn’t take you long before you realized you couldn’t untangle your hands from the yarn. Harder and harder you tugged, but your fingers were very well tied, your hands bound by the pretty Cradle. “Oop, here, let me help you with that…” she muttered, taking one of the ends of your yarn and giving it a gentle tug, and all at once, your hands clapped together, bound tight. “There! Now c’mon, cutie, let’s getcha out of my floor.”
Blushing at the realization that the game had been a ruse, you let yourself get tugged out from the floor by your yarned-up hands, feeling the ground become more and more firm underneath you. “T-that was a nasty trick!” you whined.
“Oh, you should have seen it coming a mile away. I’m a Puppet Master! Nimble fingers come with the job~,” she teased as she wiggled her fingers against your cheeks, making you sputter. Gently, her soft hands guided you to the floor so you were lying down on your back before she effortlessly grabbed your bound hands and moved them above your head, saying, as if it were an afterthought, “These can’t move now.” It shouldn’t have surprised you, but you were a bit bewildered by the fact that she was correct: you couldn’t pull your hands down as much as you tried. 
She suddenly gasped as she got an idea. “I know another game we can play! It’s called, how long can my ticklish little puppet stay silent while I tickle them!”
“T-that sounds like a terrible game!” you spat, and she patted your head in response.
“I don’t know… you did intrude on me while I was sleeping, so I think that deserves a little punishment~! Then again, maybe it’ll be a reward since I know you’ll enjoy it so, so much~!”
Before you could voice any more criticisms, you yelped in surprise when she pulled out all your tools and set them before you. 
“Hm… I can’t hold all of these at once… I know! I’ll need help!” She whistled, and the toy chest sprung open, a group of five puppets rushing through the air to her. “Here, Wolf, you can hold the makeup brush, and I’m trusting you two to hold these!” she said, handing the two extra-fluffy feathers to Lion and Cat. She removed the electric toothbrush as if she were holding a precious relic. “This one’s mine~!”
You didn’t even have time to say, “Wait-!” before it started~!
The two puppets with no tools, Snake and Owl, dove in first. Owl, all covered in fuzzy feathers, nuzzled into your neck, chin, and ears, hooting and cooing at you. “Whooooo’s a ticklish puppet! Whooooo’s a cutie patootie! Who? Who?” she asked, snuggling her soft felt beak into your ear. All by herself, Owl was sending you into squeaky, blushy laughter, but don’t worry, it would get a lot worse! <3
Snake, meanwhile, had slithered his sneaky way under your shirt, nudging your shorts down a bit to reveal your hips. “Sssssssscore~!!!” he victoriously said as he wound his way around and around like a belt, his surprisingly tickly underbelly making you jump and buck around. Besides the occasional hiss as his felt tongue flickered across your lower tummy, he stayed silent as he pulled wave after wave of laughs out from your lungs.
The Puppet Master sat, smiling and watching you being slowly picked apart so adorably by her cute little puppets. She was content to wait until you began getting used to the current tickles before ramping them up. After all, she had until six before her next show, so she was content to make you pay for your impudent intrusion!
Wolf’s patience wore out first, and after a lengthy squeal on your part when Snake dipped his head into your belly button, he growled and dove in, armed and ready with the makeup brush. The Puppet Master chuckled and pulled your shirt up to your ribs for him. Quickly swatting the reptilian puppet out of the way with the brush, he dipped it into your giggle button and swirling it around and around your tummy. He looked up and grinned happily at the results: deep belly laughter erupted from Mt. You, bouncing about the tent like a rubber ball, much to the amusement of the Puppet Master, who began giggling with you. To celebrate, Wolf started to nibble around your ribs while continuing to paint with the makeup brush. 
Lion and Cat, wielding their feathers like knights holding their swords, looked up at the puppeteer pleadingly, happily cheering when she nodded as their sign of permission. The two puppets flew down and began happily humming a circus tune as they started going to town on your sides. Cat, soft and sweet, hummed innocently as she wiggled the fuzzy feather up and down your right side, up and down, mercilessly rhythmic. Lion, by contrast, was anything but sweet as she giggled cruelly, turning the feather around to the pointy tip and, using it like a quill pen, began writing and scribbling over your left side. It was brutal! You thrashed away from the mean scribbles and pokes, only to be met by gentle feather strokes and wiggles! You were already shrieking through your laughter, yelping with glee, and unable to beg for mercy anymore. At around the twenty-minute mark, the Puppet Master herself made her move. 
You had absolutely no way to pay attention to what she was doing, so no alarm bells went off when she began crawling down to your feet and pulling off your sandals, but you could only go bug-eyed and squeal when you heard the unmistakable sound of the electric toothbrush turning on. Your thrashing increased a bit, but the other puppets made sure you were far too weak to put up any significant resistance. The Puppet Master smiled at you with pitiless satisfaction and adoring affection as she used the toothbrush under your toes on your right foot, scribbling across your left sole with her nails. That was the final straw for you. Tears rolled down your cheeks in rivers as you lay limply, unable to do anything but sit there and take your tickles like a good puppet. Your laughter had gone silent a while ago. Yet, this time, the puppets were out for metaphorical blood as they wrecked your spots creatively, curiously, and mercilessly. 
The second you began coughing, though, everything stopped. All the puppets dropped to the floor, inanimate once more, and the Puppet Master sprang up to get some water from your bag. She put the bottle to your lips, and you gulped it down eagerly, smiling at the relief it gave. She brought your hands back down again, and suddenly, you found that the strings fell apart, sloughing off your hands and allowing you to free yourself from the tangle with ease. Curling up into a ball, you finished your water, and the Puppet Master finished her water shortly after. 
“You feeling okay, cutie~?” 
“Y-yyeheheesss! G-gohohoshh…” 
“Didn’t think I’d go that far, didja~? I’m just a sweet, innocent girl, huh~? Not when you wake me up before I’ve finished my sleep!”
“S-sohohohorryy!!”
“Oh, don’t worry! This was such a pleasant wake-up ~!” With that, she quickly scooped you up in her arms, carrying you across the room and onto the stage, laying you down beside her. “Now, I think we could both use the sleep, right~? You must not have slept well, I’m guessing~!”
You nodded, all the sleepiness hitting you like a freight train as you yawned and got comfy on the floor. 
“Figures~!” She yawned, too, and wiggled over to you. “Besides, it’ll be nice to have something other than a pillow to spoon.”
The two of you were out like an identical pair of lights, you being snuggled by the petite magician. No dreams bothered you in your sleep as you floated in the void sea of the subconscious mind. What would await you when you awoke was no concern of yours because, for now, you were comfy, exhausted, and being snuggled by an adorably sweet… whatever she is. You’ll figure that out later. For all your life afterward, you would never recall a more peaceful slumber than on the floor of that tent, cradled like a cat by an adoring and tickle-hungry Puppet Master!
The end ~!
Read the previous entry in The Puppet Master!
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tomjamesavery · 3 months
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I miss Her Written for Ginnyversary with the prompt: #B14 — He waited until her husband was out of the room, then... Read on: AO3
James Potter felt slightly better than before, as he stepped into the Floo at Godric's Hollow. 
His son and daughter-in-law had invited him to dinner at Grimmauld Place, and since Lily, his wife, was currently on an international NGO educational trip, teaching magical orphans in South America, making him quite lonely at home, he was happy for any distraction he could get.
As he was employed at Hogwarts, as the new deputy Headmaster to Minerva McGonagall and  Head of Gryffindor House, he found himself with a lot of time on his hands since the summer break had started two weeks ago.
But that wasn’t on his mind right now, as he dusted himself off, stepping from the Floo into his son’s family’s living room.
“Dad! And on time at that!” Harry happily greeted him, glancing at the old grandfather Clock, engraved with the Crest of the House Black.
James smiled at his son as the two lovingly embraced in a big bear hug.
“24 Years old, and you’re still smaller than me.” James teased, earning him an eye-roll from Harry.
“We’re basically the same height Dad, I guess I’ve just learned to better control my hair,” Harry smirked. “Look at your mop of unruly Potter mess up there!”
James only snorted as he lightly elbowed his son in the side. Neither of them noticed the third person that had entered the room.
“You both have hairstyles worthy of the Potter name.” Ginny had appeared in the doorway, she was wearing a Harpies sweater and grey Jeans, smiling brightly at them. “Now come on you two, dinner is ready, Harry, our Cook, spent the entire afternoon whipping something up for us.” She exclaimed over her shoulder, leaving towards the kitchen again.
James smirked as he saw his son stare after his wife, a lovesick look shaping his face.
“A lucky bastard, that’s what you are.” He teased. Earning him a rude hand gesture from Harry, as the two Potter men made their way into the kitchen as well.
Dinner was a calm affair, Harry had prepared them Beef Wellington with sides of mash, green peas, and Brussels sprouts. James had to admit, his son could cook.
They chatted about what had been going on in their lives recently, Ginny outlining the details of their last Quidditch training, as the two men attentively listened.  Harry told about the new field of work assigned to him since he had been appointed Deputy Head of the Auror Department just last month, it was a commotion and there even had been a party thrown in his name, which he hated.
While James outlined his plans for reworking the garden at Godric’s Hollow, and how he had been keeping himself busy over the last few weeks, pointedly ignoring how much was missing Lily.
While Harry luckily didn’t seem to catch on, James had noticed the looks his daughter-in-law was giving him, she wasn't as oblivious as her husband, and James was once again reminded how she very much had become a real daughter for him and Lily, in all but blood, they loved her unconditionally.
After they had finished the main course James was very certain Ginny had fully caught on to how miserable he had been feeling recently. They were sitting in comfortable silence for a short while, before Harry spoke up again, a big grin crossing his features.
“I’ve tried myself on something special, for dessert tonight, give me a few minutes, I will be in the kitchen!” With those words he stooped up quickly making his way toward the kitchen, whistling as he went.
But James's eyes were already on Ginny, and he waited until her husband was out of the room, before he spoke.
“Yes, I am lonely, I know it's unreasonable, but she’s been gone for four weeks, and she’ll only be back by the end of this month, so in two weeks…” He continued a hint of desperation in his voice. “Ginny I don’t know what to do without her… I can't…”
“James!” He was interrupted by his daughter-in-law, who looked at him in concern, as she continued with a calm voice.
“Breathe! Deep Breaths, In and Out!” She instructed, and James closed his eyes, doing what she said.
“Good that’s better, now listen to me for a second.” Her tone was sweet and she gave him an understating smile.
“We both know how much Lily wanted this, and I know how much you supported her, going there on her own, to do what she loves, helping others.”
“Lily misses you too, and I bet she can’t wait to come back and snog you senseless-“ James smiled at the thought, as Ginny continued.
“-But she wouldn't want you to be miserable here, she wants you to be fulfilled and happy, and of course that doesn't mean that you’re not allowed to miss her, but crying after her like a little lovesick puppy, wouldn't make her happy either if she knew-” Ginny explained.
“-and I can tell you, if there’s anyone that always knows stuff like that, it's her!” She smiled, her face full of understanding.
“So jump into your garden, and get working, or start preparing next year's school plan, whatever, just stay busy, she will be back in two weeks' time anyway, those few days will fly past, I promise!” 
The last words she said made James feel a lot more at ease, Ginny was right, those two weeks would fly by, just like the last four had, he would just keep busy and before he could blink, the love of his life would be back and they would be united again.
“Who wants self-made treacle tart!” James threw open his eyes, just as his son stepped back into the room, holding two plates of dessert.
He suddenly stopped, looking at his wife and father sitting at the table. “Everything alright, you two look so serious somehow?” Harry raised a confused eyebrow. There was a deafening silence for a second until James couldn't but laugh as he and Ginny burst into loud laughter, leaving Harry staring at them in even bigger confusion.
“No Babe, it's fine, we were just talking about how full we were from your wonderful meal.” Ginny lied as she jumped to her feet, chastely kissing her husband on the lips, before turning and shooting James a swift grin as he nodded in thankful reply, reciprocating her smile.
Harry only shook his head, his eyes still wide open in confusion as they switched between James and Ginny. “Sometimes you two are an enigma to me...”
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kittyamore0 · 1 year
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Genshin men with a fatui harbinger! S/O:
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[Part I]
Little note I: I was reading Cloud Strife post and got the urge and idea to do a Genshin post Little note II: I will do the other element men and women, but i was busy while making this and i got a headache, so im only able to do Anemo and Geo for now
Little note III: I might do a Cloud Strife post and put Final Fantasy 7 remake on my masterlist, maybe...
Fandom: Genshin
Tumblr genre: Headcanons
Rating: SFW
POV: Second person
CW: Swearing, mentions of battles/violence, GN! reader, nice, fatui harbinger! reader and hip straddling
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆⋆⁺。
ANEMO MEN
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
KAZUHA
He's not quite fond of the fatui
But he doesn't really mind them either
So its 50/50 for him
See what i did there
I actually lost the 50/50 to Diluc and i wanted to cry
At first, you had introduced yourself as someone else
When you did tell him about your identity, he was a bit conflicted
Did you not trust him enough to tell him who you truly were?
He usually brushed it off, but still wondered if there was anything else you had not told him
But nevertheless, if you're uncomfortable telling him something, he'll wait.
He doesn't want to rush you to end up scaring you away
He's a very patient and kind man
Depending on what commisson the Tsarita had given you, he'll maybe come or not, wanting to protect you when he does go
And when he doesn't, he's patiently waiting for you in your  Serenitea Pot 
soft hugs when you've made it home safely!
And if otherwise, he'll treat your wounds, kiss them, and nurse you back to health!
When he told Beidou about you, she didn't really trust you too much
But when she did get to meet you, she realized how she could trust you!
You were nice for one of the fatui harbingers
She could see why Kazuha had fallen in love with you now
VENTI
He didn't really care about fatui members all that much
We all know that hes very carefree
When he did meet you, he thought you were quite kind and gentle for a fatui harbinger
He teased you for that
Not in a bad way, of course!
Was impressed with your rank
He'd like to tag along with you on commisson's the Tsaritsa had given you
He mostly goes to help you and ensure your safety
You try telling him that it's okay, but he refuses!
"Windblume, i may be the weakest archon, but rest assured! I am still an archon, and therefore will i take care of you."
Sometimes he'll go to earn some mora!
We all know how the poor baby is very broke
If you get hurt while on a commisson, he'll quickly come to your aid!
Soft scolds about how you should've let him come
He gets reminded of when his old friend had passed, and he tears up
I cried on his story quest bro
"Windblume, why had you not told me about this quest? You could've gotten seriously hurt had i not come sooner...I can't lose you...not you."
"Im sorry, Venti."
"Its okay, love..."
He most likely wont let you go on anymore commisons for a while, no matter whom they come from
He'll have them delayed
he just wants the best for you!
SCARAMOUCHE
You both had fallen in love while you both were fatui harbingers
You spent most of your time doing commissons and quests together
The rest of the fatui thought you guys were quite an odd couple
The exact definition of 'opposites attract'
Scaramouche, the tempered, cruel, insensitive man
[Name], the patient, kind, thoughtful person
Huh, what a weird tone that is.
Most of the fatui would go up to you and ask questions like, "How do you deal with Lord Scaramouche?"
"Must be hard having to deal with Scara. Huh, comrade?"
"I would have never really imagined you and the 6th Harbinger together."
You'd just laugh them off
Truth to be told, Scaramouche had a soft side for you
It wasn't the 'mean to everyone, but you,' thing, no.
Not at all.
He was still rude to you, but you knew he hadn't meant it
And he was just joking
Or he was in a bad mood!
He was just less rude to you, more careful with you than anyone else ever
And sometimes, his so-called 'insults' would come off as him complimenting you.
"Oh, just go already. I can't stand seeing your perfect face,"
He had muttered the last part
But alas, you still had heard it.
"You think my face is perfect?"
"...I I never said that!"
"Oh, but you did!"
"No, i didn't!"
"What's next, you're going to confess your undying love for me?"
"..."
Hes so flustered
And you know it
Endless teasing from you!~
When you had found out about his plan to betray the fatui, you wanted to be a part of it. To help your lover.
"I want in."
"What?"
"Scara, i know you plan to betray the fatui. I want to help."
"He in all honesty, wasn't complaining.
If you wanted to help, you wanted to help.
"Fine. Just don't do anything stupid."
XIAO
Im going to be completely honest,
He hated you at first
He is really not fond of the fatui
And his hatred only grew more when Childe had tried to take Rex Lapis's gnosis
Not only did he seek his archons value and try taking it by force, but he had hurt the traveler as well.
Yes, he did later find out that Zhongli had meant to give it to La Signora, a fatui harbinger
But that still made Xiao hate Childe for his absurd actions
He was certainly weary of you
He first noticed your bubbly acts
He thought it was just to make him let his guard down
But then you had helped him conquer demons
He then realized that you being overly nice, was not an act.
He had loosened around you
It wasn't like he liked you and was now being nice to you
It was more like you went from 'hate' to 'dislike'
Sorry yall
He did grow use to you being around
Because of your strong determination to show him that you really wont going to use him or do anything bad, you stuck around him
Being overly nice to him
I mean, just because your a fatui harbinger doesn't mean you can't be nice
But you being friendly doesn't mean your naive either.
He honestly finds it weird when you're not around
Since you're stuck on him like glue 24/7
Showing him things, hanging out and what not
The day he realized he yearned for you was days after you had given him your favorite flower
Let me play it out,
"Xiao, Xiao!"
He huffed and turned around to you holding beautiful flower
"What is so important?"
You softly pouted for a moment, giving his heart a slight panic attack
"Close your eyes for me, please?"
"No."
You pouted even more, but then your eyes lit up and you had a devious smile on your face
You tapped his right shoulder, making his head swiftly turn to his right
You then sneaked to his left and stuck the flower into his hair
"Wha? "
You clapped your hands.
"You look so pretty!"
A pink blush spread across his cheeks.
You pulled him to a nearby pond to have him look at himself
He was honestly too stunned to protest
"Look, look! You look so pretty with my favorite flower in your hair! Don't you think so?"
He pursed his lips and let everything process in his head
Your favorite flower, in his hair, pond, you calling him pretty, You.
"Its alright...i guess"
You knew he wasn't good at dealing with compliments, so you settled down for that.
"Xiao, look at me for a second."
He looked at you, eyes locking.
A bright, but small dot glowed within your index finger.
You raised your hand and slightly tapped on the flowers petal, as Xiao felt it sorta freeze.
"There! Now the flower won't die, and you can preserve it."
Thats so cute.
Xiao sat in a field of flowers with the traveler as he let the memory replay in his mind.
"Traveler,"
"Hm?"
"Have you felt a certain way for somebody...? as if it was just yesterday you had hated them, but now you yearn for their touch...?"
"..."
"Xiao, that's love, or sexual attraction."
Oh.
"Well, we have to meet up with Zhongli, so we have to go. Bye, bye, Xiao!"
Paimon chirped.
"Alright then..."
He let them leave while he thought about the travelers word.
Love, huh?
When you had gotten back from your quest, the first place you sought was the Wangshu Inn.
Where Xiao was residing
"Xiao? Xiao! "
An arm slipped around your waist and you were pushed back onto an warm material
Pieces of teal hair landed in front of your eyes
"Xiao...?
He hummed into your hair
Now, it was your turn to be stunned and flustered to protest.
Heizou
I feel like he had approached you first, since hes a detective, and you're a fatui harbinger
You usually dont see em' harbingers walking around so freely
He was surprised by your friendly behavior
You were very chirpy
inviting him without a care
Were you playing a trick on him?
As a detective, body language was the way to see if you were just tricking him or not
Your body language? completely pure.
There was no bad intentions behind them, but he kept cautious
Like with Xiao, you hung around him, and he hung around you
If he was being honest, he was getting use to your presence
And maybe liking it even.
Before he knew it, his eyes usually searched for you
Getting to the place you guys hang out at before you do
And you're usually first.
You could say the same thing was happening to you
Always looking for the red head, wanting to be near him.
You were head heels over him.
You, a FATUI HARBINGER, in love with a detective.
Well, its not like the fatui has to know.
He realized his feelings when you two had spar
You had won, due to being a fatui harbinger and you had a weapon.
You sat there, straddling his hips, your spare knife to his throat when he had knocked your weapon to the side
You head dipped down, breath fanning against his unusually warm, red ears
"I won," you whispered into his ear, sending shivers down his body.
You smirked and lifted up your head, only to now realize the position you were in, and what you had done.
Your smirk dropped and placed with a shocked looked
The knife in your hand cluttered on the floor.
"Hei Heizou, I Im so, so sorry. I "
He placed his lips on yours, shutting you up.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨
GEO MEN
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨
ARATAKI ITTO
This man would be approaching you, being goofy around you.
Challenging you, telling you that you don't scare him
But your friendly behavior throws him off
"Oh, i hope to not scare you. Im sorry if i did,"
Huh?
Why were you acting nice...
I mean, don't get him wrong; he likes nice people, but he didn't expect that attitude from a fatui harbinger
He expected you to act like a snake, nice with bad intentions behind that mask, an overly confident person, a cruel person.
You were neither of those, which made him warm up to you quickly.
Yes, it was naive of him to warm up to you so quickly just because you acted friendly, but if you really had a trick up your sleeve, you wouldve pulled it early.
He would ask questions about you being a fatui harbinger though, since your friendliness didn't add up.
"Why did you become a fatui harbinger?"
"My childhood best friend, Childe, wanted to join the fatui, but i would have to lose him in the process. So I joined him."
He does get that, but he thinks being a fatui harbinger doesn't suit you all that well.
Well, except your strength, but otherwise no.
You're probably the only true nice one there!
And he was right.
Everyone was a two-faced piece of shi well, except Childe.
He became quite protective of you, because of your kindness.
Though, you didn't need it.
He clung onto you like a leech.
A leech in love with you.
Yea, you heard me.
He had fallen in love with you hard in the process of protecting you, but so did you
His caring, protective side caused a spark within you
He was always flirting with you, but when you tried to flirt with him as well to give him a hint
He didn't get it.
So you waited for him to keep flirting, maybe go over bored and then you'd make a move
Until,
"Psh, I'd be the better kisser anyways,"
You quirked an eye brow at him
"Oh, really? Then, why don't we test that theory?"
You don't even give him time to process what you had said before your lips on him
Lawrd hav merthy
ZHONGLI
Zhongli met you through your childhood best friend, Childe.
"[Name], come here! This is Zhongli."
There you were, running away from the mini shop you were checking out.
"Zhongli, the man who milks you for mora?"
Ouch.
Wow, Childe, wow.
He sends a strained smile in Childe's way while Childe's just nervously laughing
"Um, to some extent. When he ne needs it though!"
Your laugh is what keeps Zhongli from sending his rock down onto Childe.
"Ah, [Name}, you are a fatui harbinger just like Childe, no?"
"Yes, i am."
You two started to chat, and Childe left you two to be.
Zhongli had grown fond of you very quickly
Your friendly persona is something he finds himself loving
You're the type of person he can go to have a nice chat
And that's how he found his eyes wandering for you everywhere
He didn't know if it was for a good, nice chat or just an excuse to see you again
All he knew was that both were pleasant
You two both grew closer to each other every time you guys saw each other
He started to imagine you both together, and it confused him.
He was an archon. You were a fatui harbinger.
Why was he thinking about such things?
And in all honestly, you felt the same way about Zhongli
You noticed his slightly nervous acts around you
It had made you upset.
Did he feel uncomfortable towards you?
So, you asked him out to dinner.
He hesitated, but complied.
Lets play it out,
Your arms laid limp on the thin railing, while you snuck glances at the old archon
"Do i make you uncomfortable?"
His mouth parted, and he let his gaze fall upon you.
Make him uncomfortable? More-so you make him happy, and feel many positive emotions.
"No, not in the slightest. Has that been on your mind this whole time?"
You slowly nodded
Guilt had taken over his heart
"I deeply apologize if it seemed that way. It really isn't."
He placed his clothed hand over yours, as the warming gesture made it into your stomach
"Then what do you feel, about me?"
He averted his stare from yours.
"What i feel is that you somehow make me feel warm, happy and relaxed. You are the highlight of my days."
Your lips slightly twitched up into a smile
"Charmer..."
He let out a chuckle
He stood there, as you let your head rest on his shoulder.
GOROU
He did not like you at first.
No, not at all.
He didn't trust you.
Whenever his tail was wagging and he saw you, it would stop instantly.
His ears would flop down
And honestly, this made you upset
"Gorou, was there something i did wrong?"
He huffed.
"You're a fatui harbinger. You should know."
You hung around him, mostly to make things right
He would always purposely loose you everyday
Until, he saw you with the Divine Priestess of Watatsumi island, Kokomi
And for the first time ever he felt bad, and for you?
After you were done talking to her, you laid eyes on him and held a sad expression on your face
He had never realized how beautiful you were in that moment
Just a few minutes after you had left, Kokomi had called him in
"Why have you been treating [Name] in such a way, general?"
He was speechless. Your ass just snitched on him!
"They are a fatui harbinger. We cant "
"We?" Kokomi raised her eyebrows. "You, you mean. There is no 'we,' I trust them, and I expect the same amount of trust and respect I give to them coming from you when talking or even going near them, Gorou."
He nodded and cleared his throat.
"Yes, Divine preistess."
She sighed, "just dont be...how you've been around them. Ease up a bit, okay?"
He nodded once again.
The next time he saw you was when he approached you, which surprised you because he never does so.
"Is there something wrong, Gorou?"
He shook his head.
"I want to apologize for how i acted and treated you."
You hummed, but you were not ready for the next words to come out of his mouth.
"Lets be friends,"
Your eyes ad slightly widen and you looked at him with shock plastered on your face.
"If If you want to, of course "
"I'd love too."
You cut him off, as a dopey smile over took his lips
"Gre great!"
After the apology, you two hung out more
He actually enjoyed hanging out with you
And you've always enjoyed it
He started to look forward to seeing you more
A lot so that his tail began wagging whenever he saw you
His ears perked up upon hearing you
He had started getting warm around you, maybe more than warm
Even the Divine Priestess, Kokomi had noticed
You, of course, felt the same way about Gorou
You had found it cute at his reactions, especially whenever you patted his head
And one day, you were patching up his wound
He had just come from defending the Watatsumi army
He hissed, as you applied pressure to the bandaid
"Shh," you cooed
"Sorry..." He whimpered out
He laid his head on your shoulder after you were done taking care of his wound the best you could.
He stared into your [eye colored] hues, bathing himself in them.
He leaned forward, slightly startling you
He placed his forehead against yours.
And you happily reciprocated.
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littledollll · 1 year
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Hi don’t judge me this is literally the first thing I’ve ever written thats not a short Drabble
Ex friends Lucifer and desire,
Now let me elaborate, reader is desires ex, they find out desire was manipulating them this whole time into actually wanting them so they leave.
And you? Oh you’re such a pretty thing how can lucifer resist when you’re newly single and their enemies ex? Lucifer is nothing if not petty, but they don’t lie, they don’t manipulate you, just offer you a new place, safety, revenge, and how could you not take them up on that offer?
It starts off as just that, a scheme to hurt desire, to get back at them, but the lord of hell is oh so gentle, sweet, desirable, and Desire knows when you feel it, when Lucifer desires and more specifically for you, they’re livid, and come to hell seeking an audience with the devil
Expecting a fight or have to give something, not be a welcome guest, not since they’re falling out, regardless, they march in.
Lucifer knows they’re coming, of course they do, so they summon you, their little doll do join them on their lap while they have a meeting, like you have so many other times, you just didn’t know it was with them, it’s not unusual for Lucifer to play with you during meetings, you welcomed it, asked for it.
So of course when they grip one of your hips and re-adjust themselves in their throne you know what to do, always such a good pet, grinding down on their thigh, arms around their neck, head hidden into their chest leaving kisses and bites, just how you both like it, it’s always so intimate, showing others that you’re theirs, marking them as yours.
When Desire storms in rather rudely, Lucifer greets them so casually you almost don’t notice, almost, you gasp, halting your movements for just a second before getting reminded to keep moving with a firm squeeze from Lucifer, so of course you continue, hidden smirk across your face when you start moving faster, getting louder, Lucifer knows you well enough to know what you’re up to, encouraging your movements now with both hands on your hips before tilting their head down to reward you with a sweet kiss.
As they walk in, they let out a scoff “whoring yourself out for anyone to see? Have you no decency-“ you tune them out, too focused on your growing pleasure to care, but the devil isn’t so forgiving, quickly cutting them off.
“Have you forgotten that not just ‘anyone’ can come in, let me remind you that you are only here because I allow it. It would do you well to remember that before you speak like that to me or my doll again.” One of their hands leaving your moving hips, drawing to your back and keeping there, as if to reassure you.
“Your lack of loyalty is telling Lucifer, getting with somebody you know very well am involved with-” your whine interrupts them, they pause to look at you, directly this time, their eyes stay on you, Lucifer knows what you need, their hand moving from your back to your dripping core, circling your clit as your hips stutter and you fall against them, orgasm finally reaching you and you pause for another moment recuperating your breath.
The devils face is smug as their hand continues moving against your twitching clit, a silent command to keep going and you whimper, continuing your movements “my good doll, aren’t they just wonderful desire?! You were involved, that is no longer the case, and you dare question my loyalties? You and I are not friends, my dear desire, I owe you no loyalty”.
“I suggest you take your leave before I have to throw you out my self, and I’m sure my doll wouldn’t appreciate me leaving now would you?” Ever the condescending, sickly sweet tone to their voice they look down at you, and you look up at them, shaking your head and stuttering out “no, please don’t, ‘m so close” nuzzling your face into their neck, Lucifer shivers in delight, barely noticeable to anyone but you, your hot breath on their neck and quiet whines and moans so close to their ear.
“Do you mind? Your hogging their attention, desire, and we have much more important business to attend to” you huff as your right hand leaves their neck and comes to your lovers jaw, pulling them down for a second, much rougher kiss as you once again reach your high, barely paying attention to how Desire turns their heel and leaves, anger written clear on their face.
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mfil - 23
-` ♡ ´- m.list | no taglist | next | wc: .8k
-` ♡ ´- a/n: website users, i am aware of the issues with the links and will be working on fixing that today &lt;;33
*NOT CLICKBAIT!!!* when asmo learns that you, the newest exchange student has a youtube account and following somewhat comparable to his own, he decided right then and there not to like you. however, after an unfortunate (and misleading) exchange goes viral, he has no choice but to fake date you in order to save face. will asmo crush you and put you into place like you deserve? or are those funny feelings in his stomach not hate, like he had thought? like, subscribe, and maybe fall in love (with this smau) to find out!!
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parking your (borrowed) car in the circle drive, you stare up at the imposing manor. sure, diavolo’s castle is large and gothic, but this somehow feels distinctively darker.
brushing of your heebie-jeebies, you gather your things together. asmodeus had messaged you, letting you know all of his brothers found out you were coming (seriously, how bad at keeping secrets is he?) so there was no longer a need for you to ‘sneak in’, or whatever he'd wanted.
which, honestly, was fine for you. sneaking in had made you feel weird, like you had been doing something wrong, and it was about time you actually spoke to the rest of his brothers face to face.
opening the car door, you make your way to the front door, which opens before you can knock. it’s lucifer, who greets you politely.
“hello, mc, it’s nice to finally meet you face to face. forgive me for not being able to greet you in person sooner.”
“don’t worry about it,” you say, looking around the expansive foyer as he ushers you in. “i know your schedule is like, super busy.”
he lets out a soft chuckle. “that it is.”
before either of you can say anymore, two heads pop around the corner. mammon, and leviathan, if you remember correctly. despite having not met them face to face, it’s almost impossible to go around rad and not hear their names. also, you follow them all on social media already.
“the human’s here!” mammon bellows loudly, and lucifer gives you a tired and apologetic look.
“you must forgive them; they’ve all been very excited to meet you, especially since asmo has had such… interesting things to say.”
“there’s no need to beat around the bush,” you say quickly, figuring that since they all know about the fakeness of your relationship, you should be candid. “i know he doesn’t like me.”
“oh, hey mc,” satan says, entering the room, and you don’t miss the way he doesn’t seem to look at lucifer at all. “it’s nice to see you again.”
“you as well,” you say, and as if emboldened by satan’s easy greeting, mammon and leviathan step forward.
“hey, human,” mammon greets, “uh, it’s nice to meet you?”
“don’t be rude,” leviathan says, elbowing him in the side. “i’m leviathan, and this is mammon.”
“mc,” you say, “but i’m sure you already knew that.”
“where are beel and belphie?” mammon asks, and speak of the devil(s, hah!) they enter. beelzebub offers you a warm handshake, and belphegor just stares at you intently, eyes glowing purple. it reminds you of asmodeus’ eyes back when you’d first met.
“it’s nice to meet you both too,” you say, and belphegor shares a look you can’t read with satan, who leans forward, putting a hand on your arm.
“how has your morning been so far?” he asks. “tired, at all?”
kind of a weird question, but whatever. “uh, no, not really,” you reply. “i put out a video, did some tasks, and then got ready to come over here. nothing super special.”
“i see,” he hums. shaking off the weirdness, you look around.
“where’s asmodeus? he was the one who told me we didn’t have much time to work.”
“that guy always runs like five minutes late,” mammon says, rolling his eyes. “it’s annoying.”
“says you,” asmodeus snipes, entering as well. “you always run like, fifteen minutes late! and now mc and i really have to get to work so…”
“of course,” lucifer agrees with a nod, before fixing you with a serious look. “if he does anything to make you uncomfortable, just yell. or punch him.”
“hey!” asmodeus cries. “you should be saying that to me! this human is weird!”
“not as weird at solomon, i’ll bet,” belphegor snorts, then seems to catch himself, bringing a scowl to his face once more. what’s up with him?
“whatever,” he huffs, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room. you’re too stunned to free yourself. “we’ll see you later. or hopefully not,” he adds under his breath.
you follow him blindly through a maze of rooms, still in his grasp. eventually, he stops outside of an ornate door, pushing it open. his room is just as fancy as the door, gauzy and pink. you think you see a marble bathroom through a partially open door and any guilt you had (not that there was much) about using him for money disappears. he’s good for it.
“let’s get this over with,” asmodeus says, letting go of your arm suddenly as if he only just realized he was holding it. “quickly.”
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leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
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banannabethchase · 11 months
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Better Vibrations - also on AO3
~
Matt thinks Adam and Yuta should have to wear vibrators during a match, too. Luckily Blood and Guts is right around the corner. A sequel to "Good Vibrations."
~
*sighs* Look I didn't ask for this. Similar disclaimers as the previous one. Actually, no. I'm copy/pasting. I cannot stress enough how much of a bad idea it is to do ANY OF WHAT'S IN THIS FIC in real life. Don't accidentally involve your friends in your sex stuff without them knowing. Don't - don't use vibrators when you're doing something for work. I just. I can't stress enough that this is a work of chaotic fiction that should NOT BE TAKEN AS REALITY and should never be replicated. This is another written retelling of the match, but instead from the perspectives of Adam and Wheeler during Blood and Guts. Without further ado, here we go. I'm ending up on a list for this fic, that's for damned sure.
~
Adam
“Matt. Seriously.”
“What?!” Matt asks, throwing his arms in the air. He looks bitchy and pouty and annoyed, and all Adam wants to do is throw him on the floor and fuck him into bliss. “You and Yuta made me and Mox do it. You should do it, too.”
Adam fights a smile. “Baby, if you want to use more toys, just ask me.”
“I – okay, yes, obviously, but I also think it’s fair for you and Yuta to have to do it during Blood and Guts.” Adam watches Matt squirm. “Shut up. But it’s fair.”
“You can’t make people wear vibrators during Blood and Guts, Matty,” Adam says. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“I wouldn’t make anybody do anything.” Matt’s pout gets even more ridiculous. “I’m just saying it would be fair.” There’s a hint of a smile behind a pout, something Adam recognizes.
Adam laughs and sits next to him. “You think it would be fun?”
Matt nods and turns the eyes back on Adam. “I’m a mess all the time, you know? It would be fun to see you and Yuta get all…” He trails off and does some weird gesture with his hands. “You know.”
Adam can’t fight his smile. “What if it doesn’t affect us?”
Matt scoffs. “Of course it’ll affect you. Tops never know what to do with themselves when they’re not in control.”
“Rude.”
“True,” Matt fires back. He grins. “If you don’t want to, I’m not going to push. But I figure we could bring it up, and…” He trails off, and aims huge boo-boo eyes at Adam.
“Oh,” Adam says. “I get it. You want to get fucked by Yuta again.”
“Not necessarily!” Matt says. Adam doesn’t break his stare. “But yes.”
Adam pulls him in and kisses Matt softly. “You’re doing so much better with asking for what you want, baby,” Adam murmurs against Matt’s lips. “Good job.”
Matt makes a sweet little satisfied hum as he snuggles into Adam’s chest. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Adam yanks him in close. They fall back on the bed, and Matt rolls on top of Adam. “Hi there.”
“Hi,” Matt says. He shifts, legs bracketing Adam’s hips. “So, we don’t have to be at the airport until, like, two o’ clock, right?”
Adam grins. “Jesus, you’re shameless.”
“Am not!” Matt says, face turning pink. “Just. We started talking about the match, and the vibrators, and then I remembered what happened after Anarchy.” He grinds down slowly, deliberately, and Adam’s vision goes a little blurry as he gets obscenely hard obscenely fast. “Kinda hot, right?”
Adam exhales slowly, trying to keep from grabbing Matt and fucking him into oblivion too quickly. He needs to let Matt talk it out, make him ask for what he wants. “Very hot.”
“Can – will you fuck me?” Matt asks. “And talk to me about that last time?”
“You want a play by play or the highlights?” Adam asks, settling his hands on Matt’s hips. “You want me to remind you how good you looked underneath Wheeler, or how good Mox felt around me?”
“No!” Matt says, the pout back in full force even as he reaches down to palm at his own cock. “Talk about –” He cuts himself off with a bite of his lip.
“Say it,” Adam tells him, sliding his hands up the front of Matt’s shirt. “You want me to talk about what you got to do that night, don’t you?”
“Mhm,” Matt says, eyelashes fluttering closed. “Yeah, tell me how I looked.”
Adam laughs and turns them over again, and revels in how lucky he is to be back here.
~
Wheeler
“Mox, come look at this.”
Wheeler wiggles his phone as he stretches out on the gym mat, holding it up. Mox walks over from where he was mid-squats. “What am I looking at?”
“Hangman texted me,” he says. “Look.”
Mox’s face is as confused as he reads it as Wheeler predicts his own was a second ago. “The fuck does he mean by ‘Matt is probably going to text you and I need you to be realistic about your response’ mean?” He stares at Wheeler. “Do these fuckin’ Elite idiots ever speak like normal people?”
“Doubt it,” Wheeler says, going back to his crunches. “Keep an eye out for a text from Matt, I guess. Maybe something about a stipulation?”
Mox barks out a laugh, clearly avoiding his burpee regimen Bryan’s trying to force him to do. “What, like we gotta do the match with cock rings next time?” He pauses. “Wait, that could be fun.”
“If you don’t do your burpees, Bryan’s gonna kill you,” Wheeler muses, flipping over to start his planks. Mox walks over and sits on his back, because he’s an asshole. “Hey!”
“What?” Mox asks. “Do I have to tell Bryan you can’t handle his special planks anymore?”
Wheeler rolls his eyes and makes sure he keeps perfect posture. “No. But no cock rings. That seems counterintuitive. We were trying to make each other have awkward sexual reactions, not prevent them.”
“That implies I don’t usually get boners during matches,” Mox muses. Wheeler can feel the moment he pulls both legs off the floor, and grunts. “Make noises like that and I might pop one right now.”
“I might pop you,” Wheeler growls. He pushes over and flips Mox off of him, then pins him to the floor. Knees on his thighs, hands on his wrists.
Mox licks his lips and grins up at him. “Promise?”
“Are you ever not horny?”
Mox considers it. “Probably when I’m asleep, sometimes.”
“I’ve woken up to your morning wood, so I doubt it,” Wheeler says. He glances around to make sure the rest of the gym is empty and leans down, kissing some of the stupid out of Mox. He thinks they could have been there all morning until his phone buzzes next to Mox’s head, and he’s too curious about what it’ll say to resist.
[9:43am]
Hi! This is Matt Jackson. Adam and I were talking and I was thinking that for Blood and Guts you and Adam could wear vibrators this time. Let me know!
Wheeler blinks a few times at the text. “Mox, I think Matt Jackson might be weirder than you.”
“I could see it. Why?”
Wheler flips the phone so Mox can see it, and watches as a grin spreads across Mox’s face. “Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.” He bats away the phone. “You’re doing it.”
“What?!”
“Come on, I did it!” Mox says. “And this is a chance to prove you’re better than Hangman or something.”
Wheeler rolls his eyes. “That’s not what this is.”
“It’s what it could be.” Mox looks up at him. “I think it could be fun!”
“Are you trying to do boo boo eyes?”
“No!” Mox says.
“You’re a shit liar.” Wheeler laughs as he rolls off of Mox. “Alright. I’ll do it. It’s stupid, but I’ll do it.”
Mox grins. “Oh, hell yes. You’re gonna be so miserable.”
“Am not!”
“Are too.” Mox does a few burpees. “Now we’ll be able to figure out which of the four of us could put up with more.”
Wheeler snickers. “You know you lost to Matt last time, right?”
“I didn’t!”
“You totally did.” Wheeler pats his cheek. “But it’s okay. You’re old.”
“He’s older than me!”
Wheeler blinks. “Well shit.”
~
Adam
“Okay, so we should be getting the packages – shut up, Moxley, that is not what I meant – tomorrow around eight in the morning,” Matt says over facetime. He and Adam have been in Boston exploring for an hour or two at this time, but Adam insisted they face time with Mox and Wheeler for their answer. Adam was actually kind of surprised Wheeler agreed.
“Sure, yeah,” Mox says, waving his hand. “Put it outside our hotel room.”
“Might be better just to drop it off hand to hand,” Adam mentions. “That way nobody else finds it and asks questions.”
“I still think we should have used the other ones,” Mox says. He’s upside down. Adam doesn’t feel like he has the bandwidth to ask why. “Sanitizing is a thing.”
“That one is mine and I’m keeping it,” Matt says. “But, yeah. We’ll give it to the two of you tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, we will,” Adam says.
Matt pokes him in the ribs. “No! No sex jokes. Not yet.”
“No sex jokes about vibrators?” Mox asks. “Jackson, what is wrong with you?”
Matt shrugs. “Oh, we’re losing service. Notoriously bad in Boston. You know-it-erp okay buy!”
Adam stares at him as the aquarium line moves up. “Did you just fake the connection failing?”
“You can’t prove anything.”
~
Wheeler
“You’re gonna be fine,” Mox says. He pulls Wheeler in and kisses the top of his head, ruffling his hair. “No, you’re gonna kill it. Hell, kill them, I don’t care.”
Wheeler laughs. “I feel like that would lead to a lot of questions I don’t feel like answering.”
“What, why one of ‘em got a little frisky friend in their…pocket?” Mox winks and blows a bubble, snapping his gum.
“That maybe be your weirdest sentence yet,” Wheeler mutters, but he wiggles a little bit. Every once in a while, even when off, the vibrator slides up against that one spot and sends a distracting zing up his spine. “How the hell did you and Matt handle this when you did it?”
Mox shrugs. “Helped me focus, actually. Something other to think about than what to do next. I got off, and then I acted.” He sighs, a little dreamily. “I kind of miss it.”
“No,” Wheeler says. “I’m not doing this again. You can, in a singles match. But not with me.”
Mox grins at him. They both jump as Hangman’s music hits, and Mox pulls out the controller. “Keep an eye on the monitor, baby. This is gonna be good.”
Wheeler watches as Adam reacts to the match and the shifting vibrator. He’s not exactly sure what Mox is doing – something batshit crazy, Wheeler can only assume – until the music starts again.
“That’s my cue.” Mox leans in and kisses Wheeler hard, enough to make his head spin. “Good luck.”
Wheeler’s eyes are glued to the monitor as he waits for his music. When he hears Young Bucks music hit he freezes, expecting Matt, but it’s Nick instead. He has two more minutes before things get crazy.
And then the vibrator kicks in.
“Jesus fuck!” he squeaks, jumping half a foot.
Takeshita stares at him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” Wheeler manages. “I’m – just excited for the match, is all.”
Takeshita nods slowly, like he can tell something weird is happening, but he thankfully doesn’t say another word.
Wheeler walks out to his music with a chair in his hands. It’s go time, whether he’s ready for it or not.
The anticipation makes him run, like the energy building inside him grows with every movement of the vibrator.
“This is fucking stupid,” he grumbles as he gets into the ring, but the chance to slam Hangman with the chair makes it easier to tolerate. He wails on whoever comes near him for a few minutes, for the fun of it.
Mox hands him a screwdriver. “A present for you. I got this one special.”
“You’re so fuckin’ weird.” But he takes the opportunity to stab Nick in the forehead with it, and it’s strangely satisfying. Not exactly the Buck he’d like to be brutalizing right now, he thinks as he suplexes Nick onto the chair, but it’s fun either way.
They get a few minutes to regroup, wailing on each other without any hesitation. At one point, Claudio’s kicking Adam in the stomach. It looks fun.
“My turn,” he singsongs, grinning down at Adam as he puts a boot into his gut.
“Dick,” Adam groans.
Wheeler’s about to say something back to him, but then the Young Bucks music hits. Shit.
“Oh, you’re in for it now,” Adam chuckles. “Yeah. Good luck.”
Yuta decides that fucking with Adam’s what will help him cope until Matt’s in the ring. He tries to hit Matt with a chair – and then he’s the one getting DDT’d on a chair. He rolls around on the ground, suddenly horrendously aware of the vibrator.
“The fuck is this?” he whimpers. Matt was right all those weeks ago – this weird waving motion is good. It’s too good.
He exhales, and thinks of eighth grade choir, and probably would have done better waiting three seconds for Kenny to punch him in the gut. “Ow!”
“Ow?!” Kenny asks as Yuta kicks him against the ropes. “We’re in a fight, dumbass, of course ow!”
Yuta rolls his eyes and manages to stand, shaking out his body. He feels overly coiled, like a spring forced together. It’s disorienting enough for Kenny to get the leverage over him, beating him hard until he shoves Wheeler’s face into the glass. He tastes blood on his teeth, and wishes it didn’t make him harder.
He rolls over, panting. He won’t give up this fast. He and Mox have been practicing for this kind of thing. Resisting it, holding it back, refusing to come until the last possible second.
His training fails him. Sitting up against a turnbuckle, Wheeler comes dry with his face in his hands. He didn’t even get a chance to say hi to Takeshita. He came before everyone was even in the ring. He sighs, trying not to feel too much shame as his body tingles back to normal. It happens to everyone, he suppose.
Or, as he watches his boyfriend pull out a screwdriver and nail board as he recovers from a televised orgasm nobody but three other people knew was even possible, maybe it doesn’t.
He checks in with Pac. “Did you know about that?” He points to the monstrosity Mox is currently grinning at.
“How would I?” Pac snarls. “I’m not the one shagging him behind the trailers, am I?”
Wheeler opens his mouth to answer. And reconsiders. “No, yeah, that’s fair.”
The two of them join in on messing with Matt and Adam, though, so at least the conversation is over.
When the countdown starts, though, he reconsiders his idea.
He’s always wanted to fight Ibushi, after all.
Before anyone can stop him, Wheeler runs out of the ring and up the ramp. The look in Ibushi’s eyes is enough to make him wonder if this was a bad idea. He doesn’t have to wonder much longer with the way Ibushi throws a forearm directly into his face.
He collapses to the floor, and wonders, just for a second, if he could stay here for the rest of the night.
And then the vibrator kicks on to high gear, and Wheeler’s vision blurs. He whimpers as he gets to his knees, scared for a second this is all going to go to shit, when he catches sight of Matt Jackson walking toward him.
“Oh, I’m fucked.” He feels the coiled spring in his lower back press tighter and tighter with every step of Matt Jackson toward him, with the way Matt licks his lips.
It’s the worst time to be reminded of the way Matt moans in bed, the way he felt around Yuta’s cock, the way – fuck.
“Yeah,” Matt says, gently. He lays a hand on Yuta’s back. It burns in the best way as Yuta pants through the orgasm. “Yeah, I know. That’s the problem with being young. You’re gonna come so many more times than you ever thought possible.”
His face is sweet, his smile is sweet. Hell, even the words themselves are sweet. But the gleam in Matt’s eyes is anything but, and Yuta is halfway to sure he’s going to die from orgasm overload tonight.
When he gets his legs under him again, Yuta stands. He shoves Matt down. “Don’t start with me,” he says, voice still sounding weak. He pretends not to notice it. He grabs Matt by the hair and drags him back to the ramp, expecting to get back in the ring, but then Matt hits him with a combination brain buster and vibrator setting shift.
“Fuck!” Wheeler yells. “Oh, god, fuck!”
Matt launches at him once he stands up and the two of them fly off the ramp onto the floor, fists and feet flying.
They yell at each other, back and forth, and Yuta doesn’t even know what he’s saying or where he is until he gets thrown into the side of the cage.
“Ow!” And then he looks up. “Matt, what the fuck are you wearing?!”
“Shark week,” he says like it’s an explanation, and shoves Wheeler’s face into the side of the cage again.
“Why are you so – stop being so strong!” Wheeler grumbles. Matt throws the hat in his face then follows it with a punch. “Jesus!”
“You’ve seen my biceps,” Matt says, shrugging. “I’m jacked, bitch.”
Wheeler crawls away to the steps, then changes his mind. He knows Matt’s afraid of heights. If he can bait him up to the top of the cage…
He throws Matt off of him with an eye rake and climbs the side of the cage as fast as he can. This only works if Matt’s more vengeful than scared, and he’s banking on it.
“Come and get it!” he yells down to Matt.
He watches the emotions scatter across Matt’s face – fear, concern, hesitation. And then Matt’s fingers are in the metal loops, and he’s climbing.
“Hey, you big baby!” Wheeler taunts. “Made it all the way up here without peeing your pants. Good job.”
“I’d make a joke about you making it into the match without coming in your pants, but we both know that’s not true.”
If anything earns a punch to the face that sure does, so Wheeler grabs Matt by his stupid perfect hair and hits him as hard as he can. Matt’s not backing down though, and they trade blows far too high up in the air.
“You think your boy’s holding out?” Wheeler scoffs. “Bet he’s come more times than me at this point.”
“More times?” Matt asks. “Like, more than once?” he laughs. “Oh, that’s great.”
Wheeler starts punching Matt in the mouth, because maybe, then he’ll shut up. It doesn’t last long enough though – Matt’s only stunned through a few, and next thing he knows he’s on the receiving end of about a thousand Northern Lights suplexes that almost send him over the edge of the cage.
“Ugh, fine,” Wheeler says. “Fuck off. I’m going back down.”
“Good,” Matt mumbles, rolled over on his side. “That way I know you won’t drag me down.”
Wheeler climbs down the side. He gets back into the ring just in time to engage with Kenny, but it doesn’t go as well as he wants – he wonders if Kenny saw his eye rake to Matt before they got on top of the cage.
He makes his way across the ring, because at least here he might have some luck against somebody, when something sharp rains down on his head.
“What the fuck?!”
“Weren’t you supposed to be taking care of him?” Claudio yells, wincing as metal pings off his shoulders.
“I thought I did!” Wheeler has more to say, of course, about Matt dropping thumbtacks on them from the top of the cage, but then Nick starts up with those stupid superkicks and Wheeler is reeling.
Reeling enough, it appears, for Adam to get him by the back of the neck and throw him into the corner.
“How are you?” he asks. It’s almost too kind, like they don’t both have vibrators inside them with their friends bloody and bruised around them.
“Fuck off,” Yuta spits. He tries to get out of Adam’s grasp, but he’s too strong. “You’re the one squirming on the ground every two minutes.”
“I’ve been out here longer than you,” Adam retorts, fire in his eyes.
Wheeler’s head spins as Adam wails on his head. He collapses in the corner again. The same corner where he came the first time, which is less than pleasant. He’s determined not to repeat history.
Matt must be busy, because the vibrator hasn’t changed in ages. It’s gentle and as unobtrusive as a vibrator in the ass can be. For the first time since the locker room, he feels okay.
He stands and gets back into the other ring, because beating the shit out of Nick Jackson seems fun. It is. They go back and forth for a few minutes until Matt sneaks up on him and gets him in a tombstone.
“What the fuck?!” he yells. He is painfully aware of how being upside down changes the way the vibrator works.
“Sucks to suck,” Adam yells to him. And then he’s dropped on the ground, and his head feels like lead.
He manages to get Matt up to the top turnbuckle and suplex him to the floor.
“Serves you right, you little shit.”
“You’re the little shit!” Matt yells at him from the floor. He spits out some of his own hair. “I’m gonna rip your teeth out.”
“Doubt it.”
Matt reaches for him, but Wheeler rolls his way to the other ring. He’s not willing to be wrong in calling Matt’s bluff. Clearly Matt’s been spending too much time with Mox.
He locks up with Matt where the rings meet, of course, because apparently he’s never allowed to be rid of this weird little gremlin, and he and Nick roll out of the attempt he had with Claudio to take them out. He’s on the floor, struggling to the ropes as he watches wrestler after wrestler get taken out and thrown to the floor. He takes the opportunity to get Nick into a stretch, and glances over his shoulder. Claudio’s got Matt in a giant swing.
“Serves him right,” Wheeler mutters. The satisfaction is short lived, though. Ibushi kicks him and he goes down faster than he’d ever admit. When he finally gets back to his feet, he’s glad the BCC has Kenny isolated. Maybe, just this once, the great Cleaner will go down without a fight.
Things go wrong more quickly than he can process. All of a sudden Claudio’s going after Pac, or Pac after Claudio. And Pac leaves. Wheeler knows, quickly, that things are about to go way downhill.
He’s distracted, and Kenny takes him out before he can do anything to resist. It’s slipping away from him so quickly. He can’t even fight off Nick as he drags him to the center of the second ring, throwing him into the tacks. All he can do is watch as Adam clocks Claudio with a Buckshot, and he barely knows what’s happened other than extreme impact. He’s kicked and hit and bleeding.
“Yuta!”
It’s Mox. But he doesn’t come.
Matt kicks him in the face with a shoe covered in thumbtacks. Nick shoves his face into the shoe. And then the cold chain wraps around him.
He won’t tap, and he won’t give up. He won’t be the reason they lose.
The sound of the bell is distant, confusing. “Didn’t tap,” he mumbles, but he can’t even tell if he can hear himself. And he can’t stop the relief as he collapses to the floor, the blood sliding down his face.
Claudio reaches him first, hands on his back, but Wheeler doesn’t want to see anyone but Mox.
“Did I tap?” Wheeler asks Claudio. “I didn’t, right?”
“No, you did not,” Claudio says. “You did wonderfully.”
He wishes he felt he did.
Claudio moves Wheeler so he’s sitting up a little more. It causes more blood to flood into his face.
“Yoots!”
Wheeler blinks the blood away from his eyes to see Mox crawling over to him, one arm unnaturally stretched behind him in the handcuff. “Hey.”
“I tapped,” Mox says. He looks anguished, devastated. “I – I couldn’t let them…they were – you weren’t going to make it.” He looks up at the Elite, who are having a conversation Wheeler can’t quite figure out. “Um, no!” Mox says in response to something from Adam. Then he points down at Wheeler.
“Oh.” Adam looks tired. “Right.”
Wheeler sits up. “Matt, you little shit, give me the key.”
“I don’t have it,” Matt says, frowning. He steps up, a little too closely, to Adam. “Key, please.”
Adam fishes around in his pocket, and something tumbles out. His eyes widen but Mox has grabbed it before Adam can go for it. Adam reaches in his pockets again and jolts a little bit. “Fuck!”
Wheeler turns to Mox, who grins. “Couldn’t resist a little more.”
“Shithead,” Adam grumbles, but he unlocks Mox’s hand without a fight. Mox stumbles over to Wheeler and practically collapses on top of him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, face buried in Wheeler’s chest. “I should have – I couldn’t break the handcuffs.”
Wheeler puts his hand on the back of Mox’s neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s all over now.”
They slowly get to their feet, Yuta’s entire body aching, and Matt and Adam are standing there, staring at the two of them.
Claudio hauls Mox and Wheeler fully to their feet, and they come face to face with the Elite. Wheeler doesn’t know what they’re going to do. If they’ll tease, if they’ll mock, if they’ll attack again. Kenny takes the mic and asks to shake their hands.
Wheeler’s hesitant as he does it, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. But they shake the Elite’s hands, and Adam and Matt squeeze just a little longer than they need to.
~
Adam
“This is a terrible idea,” Adam says, shifting back and forth.
Matt snickers. “I think it’s great. You look all weird. I’ve never seen your face like this.”
“Shut up,” Adam laughs. “This was your idea.”
“And I’m glad I had it.” Matt bumps Adam’s hip, and Adam has to fight the urge to twitch, the vibrator shifting. “Oh. Feeling it?”
“Shut up,” Adam says again. “This is so mean. How did you handle this?”
Matt shrugs. “I guess I’m just stronger than you are.” He tosses his hair over his shoulder. Adam has to resist the urge to throw him over his shoulder. His smile is gone quickly when Claudio’s music hits. Matt practically jumps and presses himself along Adam’s side.
“Clingy?”
Matt shakes his head. “Just – I know you have to go out before me, so I want to get time with you before you go.”
“Adorable,” Adam says. “Hey. This is going to be amazing. We’re going to win, and Ibushi is going to distract Kenny enough that they won’t notice our bullshit, and then we’ll go back to the hotel and do unspeakable things to each other later.”
Matt giggles. “I wish Nick would just talk to Claudio – that would take at least one more person out of our way.” He thinks. “We could throw someone at Takeshita, too.”
Adam laughs. “Oh, god, can you imagine him and Pac?”
“Unfortunately I just got a mental image of him and Callis.” Matt wrinkles his nose. “I need to go bleach my brain now.”
Kenny’s music is cued, and then it feels like a waiting game.
“When do you think I should turn it on?” Matt whispers, up on his toes, into Adam’s ear. “Once I start it, you know Mox will start yours.”
“Not until I’m out there,” Adam replies. He tries to shake off the stress, the anxiety. “Or, I don’t know. If Yuta goes out, you set it off.”
Matt giggles.
“What?”
“Just, you’re freaking out so much more than I was.” He looks smug. “I was right. Tops struggle so much more with this.”
“You try topping every once in a while, you goddamned pillow princess.” Adam leans over and kisses Matt’s temple. “All you gotta do is lay there and whimper all pretty.”
“You like it when I whimper all pretty,” Matt retorts.
Pac’s music stats.
“Could you two not talk about things like this when I’m right here?” Nick asks, turning to them a little miserably. “It’s bad enough my best friend and my brother are together again. Don’t make me hear the details, too.”
Adam chuckles into Matt’s hair. “Sorry, Nick.”
He’s on his toes, bouncing, when two things happen at once: his music hits, and the vibrator starts up.
Adam yelps and jumps about four feet in the air.
“What?” Nick asks, frowning. “What’s wrong with you?”
“He’s fine.” Matt’s grinning like a menace.
“I’m fine,” Adam says through gritted teeth.
Matt kisses him on the cheek. “Go have fun out there, Hanger.”
Adam laughs, a little hysterically. “Doing my best.”
The vibrator shifts in him as he scrambles up the stairs, but he stomps his way down the ramp with the goal of turning this energy into something productive.
Adam goes for Claudio first, then Pac. He’s caught off guard for half a second when Pac kicks him in the gut, but all it does is shift the vibrator to somewhere a little less aggressive. With the change, it’s relatively easy to keep focused, since the pattern is steady and gentle. He can focus a little like this, can take on Pac and Claudio at the same time to give Kenny a minute to rest.
The buzzing feels like another level of power running through him, adding to his fight. He can only hope the vibrator doesn’t shift again – Mox is playing with the settings. He knew it would happen, of course, but it feels a little unfair since Yuta isn’t even out here yet.
A big boot into Claudio shifts the vibrator into the wrong spot, sending the vibrator ballistic against Adam’s prostate. He goes for Pac, desperate for a distraction, but all he can do is grit his teeth. He adjusts his belt, convinced there’s some visual, some hint of what’s going on in his very tight pants.
“Of fuckin’ course,” he mumbles when Mox’s music turns on. He sends a silent prayer he hopes get to Matt: turn on Yuta’s vibrator. Making him start off kilter. It may be Adam’s only chance at survival.
Adam’s expecting Mox to come after him first as he yanks open the door to the cage. He didn’t expect the fork. Maybe, he thinks as pinpricks of pain trickle down his face, he should have.
“Having fun yet?” Mox asks, fork dug into Adam’s forehead.
“No,” Adam grumbles.
Adam manages to throw him off, but not long enough. With a wink and a grin, Mox shoves the fork into Adam’s gut. But it’s a cover, and Adam sees through it a second too late. Mox reaches down to palm Adam’s dick.
“Yeah, I figured,” Mox chuckles when he finds Adam hard. “Gonna fuck me for this later?”
“Shut up.” Adam doesn’t want to admit how good that sounds.
Adam’s stuck on the floor, feeling way too much at once, until Mox yanks him up and stabs him with a fork again.
“Oh,” Adam says, watching Mox roll out of the ring. He hears rustling. “Oh, that can’t be good.”
The bucket’s enough to worry Adam; he gets up and starts wailing on Mox as quickly as he can. Maybe, if he’s smart enough, he can get the stupid controller out of Mox’s pocket. Maybe, if he does the one thing Matt and Mox didn’t have the wherewithal to come up with in the heat of the moment during Anarchy, he can make it through this.
He grasps at Mox’s pockets while on his knees, but he can’t get to the controller. He looks up hopefully at the Young Buck’s music. He’s a little more disappointed than he should be when it’s Nick and not Matt.
It gives him the time, though, to collapse under the rings. Mox is doing something nefarious with the vibrator, turning it to some weird, intense pulsing. Adam should have figured out what was happening earlier – he’s done this with Matt a million times – but he doesn’t. He lays there, baffled, as he comes dry in his gear pants, in less than 10 minutes, in front of thousands. He only can hope that Nick is holding their attention.
He finally comes back to himself when Nick appears above him, shaking the ring ropes like a gremlin maniac. He’s not up fast enough though, his legs still jelly, and Mox gets ahold of Nick.
Adam winces, watching Nick and then Kenny get an unholy introduction to the glass. He does his best to pull himself to standing, but he’s still wobbly.
Mox wraps his jacket around Adam’s throat, reading something in Adam’s face. “Oh, shit,” Mox laughs. “You came already, didn’t you!” he gleefully declares.
“Fuck off,” Adam grumbles. He refuses to acknowledge how the vest around his throat smells like Mox. “Like you didn’t blow your load fast, too.”
“Not that fast,” Mox says. He looks almost giddy. Adam hates it. “You’ve never had one of those before, have you?”
“A vibrator up my ass?” Adam asks. “No.”
“A prostate orgasm,” Mox clarifies. “I have ideas for tonight.”
Before Adam can respond, Mox steps away from him. Adam’s about to jump up to get Mox’s ass, but Yuta’s music hits.
He grins.
“Your boy is gonna do so much worse than me.” He sounds giddy and stupid now, sure, but he deserves it. “Bet you Matt already cranked it to eleven.”
Mox turns Adam’s face. Unfortunately, Yuta looks terrifying as he walks into the ring.  
“I gotta go,” Mox says, sliding his hand in his pocket. He presses some weird button and Adam’s hips jolt. “Have fun.”
He chucks Adam into the other ring like it’s nothing, right in front of Yuta.
“Hey, Cowboy,” he says with an infuriating smirk. “How you holding up?”
Before Adam can argue or say anything, Wheeler pulls the chair back and slams it into Adam’s gut. He thinks there are far more pertinent things to be concerned about in this setting, such as the possible busted appendix or perforated gall bladder, but he’s more focused on the way the second blow is right on Adam’s ass and sends the vibrator pressing against his prostate again.
Adam can’t do anything but while pathetically, and wish this was happening in private.
He squirms, less than pleased. “No,” he tells himself. “I’m not – not again.”
“Hey,” Nick says, crawling to Adam. “Adam, are you okay?”
“Fine,” Adam squeaks. “Yuta got me good with the chair.”
“Little shit,” Nick says. His eyes are lit up a little crazy, electric blue, and Adam reminds himself by Nick is probably the scariest member of the Elite. “Maybe I’ll stab him. Yeah, I could stab him!”
Adam doesn’t get the chance to reply, because Claudio or Yuta or somebody in blue yanks Nick away. He’d feel bad about not being able to save Nick, but his ass is doing some weird things and he’s preoccupied.
He’s not afforded enough down time, though. Claudio hauls him to his feet and wails on his in the corner.
“My turn,” Yuta singsongs. He kicks Adam in the stomach.
“Dick,” Adam groans. And then he hears it. “Oh, you’re in for it now.”
Yuta makes a strange face.
“Yeah,” Adam says, grinning. “Good luck.”
Adam glances over to see Matt stomping down the ramp, but he doesn’t get a chance to do a damned thing else with the way Mox, Claudio, and Yuta take turns hitting him with a chair.
He feels almost bad that Claudio’s not in on the joke.
Matt goes after Claudio and Mox like it’s nothing, like it’s fun, and smiles a little. That’s his guy.
Matt’s presence invigorates him, and he manages to get to his feet.
“Hey,” Matt says, concern written all over his face. “How are you?”
“About the vibrator?”
“No, I know you’re struggling with that.” He grins.
“Rude.”
“Head okay?”
“You’re still being rude.”
Matt grins at him even bigger. “Yeah.”
Adam takes the opportunity to go beat Yuta’s ass while he tries to hurt Kenny. “Hey, fuckwad,” he says by way of greeting, and punches Yuta in the back. The satisfaction doesn’t last long, though, because Pac grabs him and they wail on each other until Pac shoves his face into a turnbuckle. Every kick shifts the vibrator, and every shift threatens another one of those mind-numbing, leg jellying orgasms that Adam thinks he would like so much better at home.
Claudio tries him and it’s enough to help him get focused enough to hear Takeshita’s music.
“Shit,” he mumbles, getting to his feet to meet Takeshita in the ring. That means Ibushi’s the last one in the ring, which means –
He doesn’t have a chance to finish his thought. Takeshita slams him in the head with the chair.
“You good?” Nick asks a minute later, looking weirdly fine with being suplexed by Takeshita and his brother. “No head issues?”
“No head issues,” Adam agrees. “The hell are we going to do?”
“Wrong question,” Matt says, looking queasy as he scoots over. “The right question is what the hell did Mox just pull out from under the ring?”
Adam looks and a frantic little giggle comes out of his mouth. “Oh, we’re fucked.”
“We’ll be okay,” Matt says. He reaches out and squeezes Adam’s hand. “And, if not, we got each other, right?”
It’s sweet enough that Adam forgets where he is. It’s sweet enough that he lets himself get a little mushy over it, a little “I’m so lucky he’s my man” about it.
He should have realized the romance would make him come again.
Matt opens his mouth to say something, but he’s dragged away before Adam can tell him what’s happening. The second orgasm is less intense, more of a hit and run kind of thing, but it still makes his head swim and his muscles turn to liquid. Claudio catches him on the ground and steps on his neck which, admittedly, is better than being hit in the gut right now.
“Hey,” Matt says, draped over the turnbuckle by Yuta.
“Hi,” Adam mumbles. He’s still getting a little fucked up by the aftershocks. “I came again.”
Matt grins. “Yeah, I could tell.”
“Shut up,” Adam groans. “How did you survive all of Anarchy like this?”
Matt shrugs, as Ibushi’s music starts. “Bottoms are better, I guess.”
Everyone in the ring, BCC or Elite, pauses as Ibushi walks out. Just for a second. And then, like a switch, Yuta bolts out of the ring and goes after Ibushi.
“He’s gonna kill the kid,” Matt muses.
And he does. Adam remembers the times he’s been in a ring with Ibushi – most of the time on opposite sides. As he watches Ibushi lay out member after member of the BCC, though, he’s glad he’s here.
Matt disappears, Mox gets covered in blood, and Adam tries to figure out how much longer he has to survive through this before one or all of them collapse. Thankfully he doesn’t come again, but something in the base of his spine is overwhelmed and depleted.
It’s not until thumbtacks start raining from the ceiling that he regains clarity.
“The hell?” Claudio mumbles.
Adam just laughs. “I forgot about that one.”
It baffles Pac and Claudio long enough that Adam and Nick drop them directly into the thumbtacks. Adam’s about to join Nick in kicking the shit out of the BCC guys, but he catches Mox’s eye and the vibrator shifts. He locks eyes with Mox, determined not to react.
Adam turns and runs at Yuta. “How are you?” he asks as he throws Yuta headfirst into a turnbuckle.
“Fuck off,” Yuta growls. He tries to push Adam off, but he holds Yuta steady and starts wailing on his head. “You’re the one squirming on the ground every two minutes.”
“I’ve been out here longer than you,” Adam snaps back.
Hanger lets Kenny and the Bucks set up a spot with Pac, and, at his turn, dutifully slams Pac with a standing shooting star press.
Just for fun, he starts messing with Claudio.
“Oh, no,” Kenny says. It’s strangely polite how he taps Adam on the shoulder. “My turn.”
Adam thinks he’s about to get a break, but then Mox catches him. Mox’s attempt at a stomp fails and gives Adam enough time to slam him, back first, onto the tacks.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” Mox moans.
“You sound almost as pretty as you do when I fuck you,” Adam says casually, and walks away.
The double tombstone will be a highlight, Adam thinks, as the drop shifts the vibrator and clears his vision. A good moment. He gets to stand next to Matt. His head’s spinning a little less.
When Mox starts scratching up his back, Adam pretends like it’s not adding to the effects of the vibrator. Pretends really hard. Pretends so hard he almost starts to cry, and the suplex actually makes him feel better.
“Oh, I hate this,” he whines. “Oh, I hate this so much.”
Mox catches his eye and laughs. “Need a break, Cowboy?”
Adam fights to his feet again. “Need to break you, maybe.” Adam’s close, for the third goddamned time, and there’s only one last option: get the remote and break it.
He drags himself across the rings and watches as, on one sloppy roll, the controller slips out of Mox’s pocket. It’s too easy. It’s too good to resist. In a flash, Adam reaches out and grabs the controller. The relief he feels as he turns it off is almost too good.
“Is that allowed?” Matt asks him.
Adam shrugs, running in with the controller in his hand to punch Mox in the head. “No rules in Blood and Guts, right?”
He feels invigorated as he shoves the controller in his pocket and bounces off the ropes to throw a forearm into Takeshita’s throat. The satisfaction dies fast, though, as Mox gives him a cutter right to the floor.
“Bitch,” he grumbles as he rolls away. He grins as Ibushi kicks Mox in the chest.
He’s not sure how Mox gets ahold of him again, but he locks his legs against Adam’s head. “You took the controller!”
“I did,” Adam chokes out.
“Cheater!”
“It’s Blood and Guts! There is no cheating!”
“The vibrator isn’t part of Blood and Guts!”
“Yes, it is!”
Adam’s pretty sure they would have kept going back and forth like this for a decade or so, but then Ibushi kicks Mox in the jaw and Adam is freed.
He wants to get up to save Kenny, but his entire body aches. Now that the vibrator is off, his adrenaline is starting to wear off.
“Help Kenny,” he mumbles to Nick. “I’m stuck on the floor.”
“I don’t think we need to,” Nick says, rolling over. “Look.”
Adam watches as Pac snaps the lock off the door and walks away. Kenny goes after three of the BCC members left.
He stands, preparing. “This is gonna be good.”
First, he hits a Buckshot on Claudio. When he meets Kenny’s eyes in the other ring, he nods.
A Last Call. For the first time in almost three years.
Yuta goes down hard, his hips twitching, and Adam grins. Matt must have added a few clicks to the vibrator.
“We’re gonna win this,” Adam mumbles. He pushes himself to seated. “Matt, Nick, I have an idea.”
He slides under the ring and pulls out the handcuffs, locking Mox to the ropes. He also pulls out the end of a chain – he can end this. He can end this easy.
Matt gets to play dress up with his fun sneaker and Adam throws the chain around Yuta’s neck without a second thought. Matt comes from the side and wraps his arms around Adam’s waist.
“You’re doing great,” he murmurs. “Just – almost – ”
But Yuta doesn’t tap. The bell rings, and Yuta doesn’t tap. They let go of the chain anyway.
Carry On My Wayward Son plays. Adam feels exhaustion crash over him. “Oh, my god,” he says to Matt. “I need a nap.”
Matt pouts. “I mean, okay. Fine. But after?” He bats his eyelashes.
“We just won a blood feud match! Can you focus?!” Nick yells. “Why am I always here for these moments?”
Their hands are raises in the center of the ring and Adam feels a sense of accomplishment wash through him. They won. He came twice, sure, and probably would have done another twelve times if he hadn’t gotten Mox’s controller, but he’s okay now. He grins as their hands are raised, victorious.
“You okay, Hanger?” Kenny asks. Adam doesn’t want to admit it, but he looks like he suspects something. “You’ve been a little twitchy all match.”
Adam refuses to let himself blush. “I mean, yeah. Intense match.” He shifts. “Lots to worry – what is Ibushi doing?”
They turn to see Ibushi pushing thumbtacks into his chest.
“Why the hell – oh, come on.”
Adam laughs at Kenny’s reaction as Ibushi bumps himself into the thumbtacks like it’s nothing.
“Your boyfriend just intentionally filled his back with tacks,” Adam muses. “That’s unique.”
“Yeah, well, yours glued thumbtacks to his stupidly expensive shoe,” Kenny replies, ducking under the ropes to go get Ibushi out of there. “We have equally weird partners.”
“Who’s weird?” Matt asks, shuffling up next to Adam. “Me?”
“Yes, but also Kota,” Adam nods to where Kenny is now gently picking thumbtacks out of Ibushi’s skin. It’s somehow romantic. “He just threw himself into those.”
“I get that,” Matt muses. “Sometimes you just have to do something stupid, you know?”
“Oh, like choke out the guy you plan on fucking later tonight mid-match?” Adam whispers into Matt’s ear. He grins as Matt shivers, whole body.
“You can’t say stuff like that,” Matt mutters. “We might still be on air.”
“Aw, come on. We’ve gotta be off by now.”
“Alright, you two,” Nick says, and he smacks Adam on the back. It jostles the vibrator and Adam yelps. “The hell’s wrong with you?”
“Thumbtack in the ass,” Matt says, grinning. “It’s a tragic diagnosis.”
“I’m going to chose to believe that so I don’t have to consider any of the other weird stuff you two get up to.” Nick wrinkles his nose. “Also, how bad is my face?”
“Bloody, but not Mox bloody,” Adam says. “Let’s all get backstage and get cleaned up, okay?”
“Uh, no!” Mox yells. He gestures to Yuta, still covered in blood.
Adam blows some hair out of his face. “Oh. Right.”
~
Adam only has a few puncture wounds from pieces of glass and tacks, which feels like a miracle. Matt’s even luckier – bruises, yes, but so little blood it almost feels impossible. Nick, on the other hand…
“You two go off without me,” he waves off. “Me, Kenny, and Kota are planning on getting dinner later anyway, since you two. Well, I don’t know what you two do after a match, but it’s usually weird and it usually grosses me out, so.”
Matt opens his mouth to argue, because that’s his default state, but Adam slaps his hands on Matt’s shoulders.
“Well, feel better,” he says before Matt goes off. “Text us if you need anything.”
Matt’s sputtering as Adam steers him out of the medical room. “What’s that about?”
“He’s giving us a pass,” Adam says, low in Matt’s ear, “and I need to get this vibrator out of me before I lose my fuckin’ mind.”
“Oh!” Matt says. “Oh, I forgot you still had it in.”
“Lucky you.”
Adam feels weird, like really weird, as he takes out the vibrator once they get back to their room.
“You okay?” Matt asks, hovering outside the door. “I can help, if you need it.”
“Babe, I love you, but I promise I can figure this out on my own.” Adam steps out of the hotel bathroom after cleaning the vibrator. “See? All better.”
Matt nods. “You still sleepy?”
“I am,” Adam says. He licks his lips. “But a shower might wake me up.”
Matt bites his lip and half sprints into the bathroom.
Adam teases him the whole shower, lips on Matt’s neck a hand on his lower belly, a finger teasing at Matt’s entrance. Matt whimpers and presses against him, but Adam won’t give in.
“Oh, no,” he murmurs, taking Matt’s earlobe into his mouth. “You made me wait, now you can wait.”
“Mean,” Matt murmurs, pushing into Adam’s hand.
“It’s only fair.”
Matt freezes. “Using my words against me is a dick move.”
Adam laughs. “Kind of the point, baby.”
~
Wheeler
“Are you okay?” Mox whispers into Wheeler’s ear.
“Vibrator’s stopped working, so yeah,” Wheeler replies. He hopes Claudio can’t hear him.
“Not what I meant.” Wheeler turns to see Mox looking at him sternly.
Mox won’t leave his side while medical checks him out. Wheeler’s neck is fine, barely even bruised. He can speak, swallow, breathe without any problems. Doc Sampson’s shocked.
“You don’t even usually bleed like that,” Doc says, more to himself, in awe. “I expected a giant gash.”
“Takes after me,” Mox says, but there’s nothing behind his smile.
“Yeah, I’m used to you bleeding like a stuck pig, you lunatic,” Doc snaps back. “Stop teaching your young boy to be reckless.”
“I didn’t have to teach him anything. He did this one by himself.” Mox looks miserable in a way Wheeler’s never seen before.
They get cleaned up to the best of the doctors’ abilities, stitches and antibiotic ointment and bandages everywhere, and Wheeler tries his best not to react every time he shifts and the stupid vibrator moves around inside of him. He’d planned on taking it out as soon as possible, but with all the glass, screwdrivers, thumbtacks, and chains involved, medical swept him up before he could do anything.
“You keep an eye on each other tonight,” Doc says firmly. “I don’t like the idea of any of the ten of you being on your own tonight.”
Wheeler snickers.
“Not like that, you – gross.” Doc shakes his head. “Well, if you’re making sex jokes, you’re probably good to go. Off you get, you two heathens.” He smiles. “Take care of each other, okay?”
Mox nods solemnly and Wheeler steers him toward the bathroom. “I gotta take care of the thing,” he says, almost pleading. Now that it’s almost out, Wheeler is desperate to be rid of it.
“Oh! Oh, right.” Mox finally smiles for the first time in ages. “Jeez, I almost forgot about those.”
“Lucky you,” Wheeler laughs. “Give me a second, okay?”
Mox’s grin, while exhausted, turns a little dirty. “Need any help?”
“No, I think I can handle this.” He winks.
He feels a sense of weightless relief when he gets the damned thing out of him – finally free of the pressure. “Oh, thank god.”
“You good?” Mox asks. He fiddles with his fingers, thumbnail going to his mouth.
Wheeler nods, shoving the vibrator into his pocket after a quick clean off. He’ll do better at the hotel. “I’m good,” he says. “Let’s go back to the hotel.” He smiles. “And maybe call Adam and Matt?”
Mox shrugs distracted. “Okay.”
He barely speaks until Wheeler walks him to the shower. He thinks maybe the water will shake him from whatever’s going on in his head, but he doesn’t speak.
Wheeler waits to speak until the water’s the right temperature, and steps in. “Mox,” he says gently. “Come on. It’s okay.”
Mox steps in. “It’s not,” he says. “It’s my fault it isn’t.”
“It’s not your fault,” Wheeler says again, leaning back as Mox runs his hands through his bloody hair. “Stop beating yourself up.”
“It is,” Mox insists. He’s so gentle with the way he scrubs the shampoo into Wheeler’s scalp. Too gentle. “I should have – it should have been me there.”
“You’ve already been choked out by Hangman,” Wheeler murmurs. “My turn.”
“Shouldn’t’ve been,” Mox says.
Wheeler turns around to steady Mox by the shoulders. “This is part of the job,” he insists. Mox won’t meet his eyes. “Baby. Stop freaking out.” He grabs Mox’s hand and rests it on his throat. “Look. Your hand has been here a hundred times.” He grins at the way Mox relaxes. “I’ve been there before.”
Mox nods, stroking the slightly tender skin of Wheeler’s throat. “You ask me to, though,” he says quietly. “You didn’t ask them.”
“Didn’t I?” Wheeler laughs. “I mean, we agreed to a Blood and Guts match with a man named the Hangman.”
Mox laughs lightly, the stress melting from his forehead. “You’re hurt, though.”
Wheeler shrugs, brushing a thumb underneath “I’m always hurt.”
Mox lets it go, though, and the two of them wash the blood, sweat, and glass off their skin slowly. They had traded off on pulling the thumbtacks and larger glass shards out of each other’s skin earlier. Now it’s just the runoff, showering until the water runs clear and the sting is gone. Wheeler checks the brand of the hotel shampoo.
“Smells good,” Wheeler says, setting it next to his bag once they’re out of the bathroom and dried off. “I’m stealing it.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not really stealing, but okay,” Mox says. He sits on the bed with the towel around his waist, stretching himself out. “So.”
Wheeler laughs. “Already? Really?”
“We showered and you were naked near me,” Mox says, like it’s an explanation.
Wheeler rolls his eyes. “Aren’t we supposed to be meeting Matt and Adam?”
“No,” Mox says, folding his arms behind his head. “They fucked you up earlier. I get you all to myself tonight.”
Wheeler forces a pout and tries for boo-boo eyes. “Is this you being jealous or being petty?”
“Yes.”
Wheeler sighs. “Get up. We’re going to go get laid.”
“We could do that right here.” Mox pats the side of the bed. “Well, okay, now I have an idea.”
Wheeler raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Mox sits up. “Let’s change things up a bit. Text Adam. We’re going to their room.”
~
Adam
Adam throws his head back and laughs. “Sure, yeah, have Matt top. See what happens.”
“I could!” Matt argues. He folds his arms across his chest.
Wheeler snickers.
“Oh, shut up.”
Adam reaches out and yanks Matt toward him, kissing the top of his head. “You know who you are, baby. It’s okay.”
Matt mutters something probably bitchy and whiny, but Adam just laughs.
“Again,” Mox says, pointing at the two of them. “You and me aren’t that cute. When you’re being a bitch I just put you in a headlock.”
“How exactly is that my fault?” Wheeler asks, exchanging a glance with Adam.
Mox opens his mouth and closes it. “Fair enough, but you’re still a bitch.”
Adam nudges Matt’s arm. “I mean. If you really want to try topping.” He gestures to the bed. “Have at it. Let’s see you do it.”
“Well, now it’s a challenge.” He stops over to Wheeler. “You. Can I top you?”
Wheeler grins at him, smarmy. “You can try.”
Matt throws a defiant look over his shoulder at Adam. “Watch me.”
Adam settles into a chair in the corner of the room. “Don’t mind if I do.”
~
Wheeler
Wheeler’s sitting on the bed, looking up at a Matt Jackson who is clearly doing his best not to pout. “You gonna top me?” he asks, fighting a grin. “Then top me. Why are you just standing there?”
“I – because.” Matt says it like it means something. “I’m making you wait.”
“For what?”
“Shut up,” Matt says. There’s a bit of a bite behind it, Wheeler will admit, but it reminds him of his mom’s puppy playing with the bigger dogs next door. “Take off your shirt.”
Wheeler pulls it off over his head. “You, too.”
Mox snickers.
Matt turns around, his hair flying everywhere. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s not you,” he says. “Wheeler sucks at being dommed, is all. Tells you what to do even when he’s supposed to be following instructions.”
“Do not!”
“Do too,” Mox replies.
Wheeler turns his gaze over to Adam, who looks content and calm in the chair. He’s still dressed in his tee shirt and jeans, watching them like a half entertaining television show. It’s not enough. Wheeler’s in the mood to perform.
“Then maybe he needs something in his mouth,” Matt says. “Get, um. Go kneel.”
“Go kneel?” Wheeler asks, fighting a laugh. “What a way to ask.”
“Just do it,” Adam says. And the atmosphere of the room changes. Matt looks over at him, and Adam nods. “You got this, baby. Just stay confident.”
Matt nods. “On your knees, please,” he says, and Wheeler obliges. The carpet is plush and comfortable, and he’s glad about it for the sake of his knees.
“Alright, I’m on my knees,” Wheeler says, raising an eyebrow. “What next?”
Matt bites his lip. “I’m going to take off my pants, now. And you’re – you’re gonna suck my dick.”
“Cool,” Wheeler says. “Yeah, I can do that.”
He licks his lips almost automatically as Matt’s cock falls out of his cozy-looking pajama pants and reaches up to pull them down to Matt’s ankles. Matt looks almost confused at Wheeler’s interference.
“Aren’t I supposed to do that?” Matt asks, eyes already big and sweet. The effect is different from the new angle.
Wheeler shrugs. “Maybe I’m helping you. You can call it that, yeah?”
Matt nods. “You, um. You can. Now.”
Wheeler leans in and licks a stripe up the side of Matt’s cock, grinning at the way Matt shudders. “Oh. Oh, okay.”
“You like that?” Mox asks. Wheeler pulls back to flick his tongue at the top of Matt’s dick and sees Mox walk up behind Matt and slide his hands around Matt’s chest, trailing designs on his skin. “Tell him.”
“It’s good,” Matt mumbles, eyes fluttering closed. “I – I want my cock in your mouth now.”
Wheeler nods and sinks down, hollowing out his cheeks, and he’s pretty sure Matt’s legs would have given out under him if Mox wasn’t holding him out.
“That’s it,” Adam says. It sounds like he still hasn’t left the chair. “Keep talking, Matty. Tell him what to do. You can do it.”
“I – keep going,” Matt says, hips twitching. “Don’t stop, okay?”
“More specific, Matt,” Adam directs. “What exactly do you want?”
“You could fuck his mouth,” Mox suggests. Wheeler gives a thumbs up to cue Matt.
“Okay,” Matt says, breathy. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, okay?”
Wheeler gives another thumbs up and relaxes his throat and jaw, ready for Matt to go nuts.
It’s a few shallow thrusts before Matt pauses. “Wait, I -I think I need to –”
Wheeler pulls off, looking up at Matt. “You okay?”
“I’m good!” Matt says, flushed high on his cheeks. “I just – I’m not very good at this.” He looks almost embarrassed. “I keep getting all wobbly, and I’m not saying the right thing. I’m trying to top and I still have two people telling me what to do.” It’s weird to see him this insecure, even after how vulnerable he was last time. Especially after he was helping Adam choke Wheeler out earlier that night.
There’s a few quiet steps behind Wheeler and Adam comes from behind and sits on the bed. “You come sit in my lap. That way you can do whatever you want without worrying about falling over.”
Wheeler’s impressed – he’s barely involved and Adam’s got control of the room. He’s suddenly reminded of the phrase “speak softly and carry a big stick,” and he can’t help but smile.
“What’s so funny?” Mox asks, hands planted on his hips. “You’re still on your knees, baby.”
“It – don’t worry about it,” Wheeler keeps giggling. “Sorry. Sorry, I’ll stop.”
“Yes, you will,” Adam says. Wheeler’s eyes snap to him.
“Damn, Cowboy, you’re really pulling out the stops tonight, aren’t you?” Wheeler teases. He shuffles so he’s right in front of Matt. “Alright, alright, I’ll take care of your boy.”
Matt sighs all pretty as Wheeler sinks his mouth down on Matt’s dick. Adam’s whispering quietly into Matt’s ear, and it’s kind of fun to watch how quickly Matt falls apart.
“I – oh, I should stop,” Matt mumbles. “Too close. Want – don’t want it to end.”
Wheeler does one last flick of his tongue as he pulls off, laughing as Matt whines a little.
“Don’t be a bitch,” Matt whines. He looks over at Mox. “I thought you were the annoying one.”
Mox shrugs. “We exchange duties.”
Matt wiggles.
“Use your words,” Adam says. “Don’t make us guess.”
Matt presses his lips together and looks around at the other three in the room. “I think Adam and Yuta should kiss.”
Mox lights up. “I like that.”
Wheeler shrugs and stands, leaning in to kiss Adam over Matt. Adam kisses good, too, deep and unyielding, thorough and intentional. Matt whimpers between them.
“Am I squishing you or something?”
Matt shakes his head. “No. No, it’s just. This is really hot.” He slides out from under Wheeler and climbs into Mox’s lap, not even giving him time to take off his clothes. “Mox, I think you should kiss me. Or fuck me. Whatever you want.”
Mox looks over to Wheeler. “Uh. That’s not what I expected.”
“You looked good tonight,” Matt says, shrugging. “And I’ve always wanted to see if you’re as good in bed as you are wrestling.”
“Well, when you put it that way.” Mox flips them, pressing Matt to the bed. “Love this whole swapping partners thing. This is fun.”
“It is,” Wheeler says. He leans down and kisses Adam again. Mox and Matt seemed to have figured themselves out pretty easily – Matt’s already squirming underneath Mox as he bites marks up and down Matt’s neck. But Adam and Wheeler keep fighting with each other, kissing like they’re trying to win a battle, and this isn’t going to work.
Wheeler pulls back. “Look, one of us is gonna have to, like, relent or something. We can’t both be in control.”
“Why not?” Adam asks, grinning. “I think I could convince you.”
“What if I convinced you?” Wheeler asks. “Get you under me, all desperate.” He grins. “I think you’d like that.”
Adam licks his lips. “Yeah?”
“Do we need to wait for the two of you to make a decision or can we fuck now?” Mox asks. He’s already got a condom on and – oh, he’s two fingers deep in Matt already.
“Looking good, Matty,” Adam says. He winks and Matt immediately turns pink.
Matt bites his lips and directs his eyes over at Adam, big and brown and sweet as hell. “Thanks.”
“Oh, you two are insufferable,” Wheeler grumbles. “Mox, please fuck Matt into be tolerable again.”
“On it,” Mox says, saluting.
Adam and Wheeler find themselves a bit distracted, watching as Mox slowly pushes into Matt with incredible concentration. Matt’s face is blissful, angelic. Wheeler might be able to be convinced Matt’s not a total diva in real life.
“You know what?” Adam says softly. “Yeah. I could try that.” He turns to Wheeler. “You should fuck me.”
Wheeler shivers. “Jesus. I – okay. Yeah, I can do that.”
Adam looks fucking incredible as Wheeler opens him up – he takes to it more easily than Wheeler expected, pushing himself down on Wheeler’s fingers like it’s a competition.
“Turn over,” Adam demands. “I’m gonna ride you.”
“You – you are?!”
“Yeah,” Adam says. “Bottoming from the top.” He winks at Wheeler and it’s disarming enough that he gets a chance to flip Wheeler over.
“This is a great idea, yeah.” Wheeler grins. “Fuck, yeah.” He flops back against the pillows, and finds himself nose to nose with Matt. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Matt says, smiling. “Hey, Mox? That looks fun. I wanna ride you, too.”
“How is Hangman in charge of all four of us?!” Mox asks. Adam shoves him down on the bed next to Wheeler.
“Because you three are super annoying and need someone in charge, apparently,” Adam replies. “Wheeler, you good?”
Wheeler nods, finishing up the condom. “Yeah, fuck. I’m good.”
Adam gives him this searing look, something that lights Wheeler up from the inside. “Hold on tight.”
“Isn’t it save a horse, ride a cowboy?” Wheeler asks, trying to act like his vision isn’t whiting out as Adam sinks down on his dick. “This – fuck – this feels backwards.”
“Well a cowboy’s gotta ride, right?” Adam winks, and Wheeler thinks this might be even better than last time. He’d never say that to Matt, of course, but there’s something to be said about being inside someone who has this level of confidence.
Mox turns to him. “Hey, babe. Weird, isn’t it?”
“What’s weird?” Wheeler asks. He decides to settle his hands on Adam’s strong thighs where they bracket around his own waist.
“I dunno. This.” He gestures to all of them. “You know. Choked you out a few hours ago, now you’re fucking him. We live a weird life.”
“Can you focus attention on me?” Matt asks. “Not to be a brat or anything, but you’re supposed to be fucking me, not, like.” He wrinkles his nose, stilling. “Commentating with your boyfriend.”
Mox sighs. “Well then. How’s your back?”
Matt tilts his head. “Fine. Why?”
Wheeler watches, impressed, as Mox stands up with an arm around Matt’s back and shoves him up against the wall.
“That’s why,” Mox says, voice low and dangerous.
“Alright then,” Adam says as Mox rails Matt quite directly into oblivion. “If they’re gonna go with that.”
Wheeler’s vision actually does white out this time as Adam works his hips to ride Wheeler madly. He has an image of a wild stallion. “Fuck,” he whimpers. “Oh, my god.” He reaches his hand up and wraps it around the back of Adam’s neck to yank him down for a kiss. It’s more like a desperate, open mouthed press. Wheeler fucks up into Adam as best he can, but it’s more like he’s holding on for the ride.
“Fuck,” Adam mutters. “Fuck, I get bottoming now.”
Wheeler reaches his hand between them and watches, fascinated, as Adam fucks up into the circle of his fingers and grinds back down on Wheeler’s dick. He comes for the third time that night, hard and intense and so fucking good he almost cries. He feels more than sees or hears Adam come, clenched around his cock, and Wheeler’s entire body is an exposed nerve. Too much, too good, too hot, too intense.
And then Adam rolls off of him, and he relaxes.
“Holy fuck,” Adam says. “Matty, you good?”
Matt lets out a nonsensical strain of syllables, and Wheeler watches him come, head thrown back and hair everywhere.
“Good,” Adam says.
Wheeler wonders if he blacked out or something. “Did he say any actual words?”
“No, but that’s what he sounds like when he’s well fucked,” Adam says, waving it off. “I think I understand the whole bottoming thing. Two thumbs up.” He does so, but it’s almost as weak as Orange Cassidy’s.
“Is that a compliment?” Wheeler asks, turning over to grin at Adam. “I made you like bottoming?”
“I didn’t dislike it before or anything,” Adam says, putting his arms behind his head. Wheeler’s eyes are stuck on how big it makes his arms look. “I just didn’t get it, you know?” His eyes close. “I get it now.”
“Yeah, yeah, Yuta’s got a magic dick. We know.” Mox jumps in bed next to Wheeler, burying his face into his chest.
Matt walks around the bed to curl into Adam’s side, mirroring Mox.
“You’ll never bottom again with that one.” Wheeler nods at Matt.
“I could try!” Matt says. It’s almost closer to a whine. “I did okay tonight.”
“You did a great job following my instructions on how to top,” Adam corrects, pressing a kiss to the top of Matt’s somehow still great hair. “You’ll get there.”
Matt lets out a contented sigh, and throws an arm over Adam to rest on Wheeler’s stomach and tangle with Mox’s fingers. It’s sweet. It feels right.
“I think I’m getting used to this,” Wheler says, frowning.
“Is that a bad thing?” Matt asks.
Wheeler thinks for a second. He’s warm and cozy, safe. He got choked out by one of them men he just fucked, and he trusted him.
“No,” Wheeler decides. “It’s good.”
They’re almost asleep, when Mox has to ruin it.
“Hey, how many times did Adam come?” he asks.
Wheeler blinks. “I don’t kn-“
“Twice,” Matt answers. “What about Wheeler?”
“I’m right here!”
“Twice,” Mox says. “Huh. Looks like we’re tied.”
Adam and Wheeler groan in tandem.
~
Mini Playlist (I should write a formal apology for this one): Good Vibrations - Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch Good Vibrations - The Beach Boys Vibrate - Petey Pablo Shake It - Metro Station
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tenderlywicked · 6 months
Note
thanks for the WIP game shout-out!
tell us about your TDJ/he is psychometric WIP! based off your snippets, it's a fascinating premise and i'm soooo curious about what happens!
and then tell us about another WIP of your choosing. what're you excited about? anything that's giving you trouble? what's something new you're trying in terms of writing that's working out?
I suspected you might be interested in The Devil Judge fic ;) It's still in bits and pieces, but it's growing. For those who haven't read my previous posts about it:
Kim Gaon has an uncanny ability to read a person or an object’s past through physical contact. Of course Professor Min wants Gaon to use it and pry into Judge Kang’s secrets. Except that, as it turns out, Kang Yohan is the only person Gaon can’t see through. So he has to rely on indirect evidence…which is confusing.
There will be two parts, the first one will be from Kim Gaon's point of view and the second one from Kang Yohan's. Here's a snippet from the second part :)
...In their year of separation, Yohan seems to have forgotten some things about Kim Gaon. Or maybe it’s something like elective amnesia: he has chosen to forget the most annoying parts about their interactions. Namely, Gaon’s tendency to notice the very things Yohan would rather he didn’t—and to start prying, immediately, instead of feigning polite ignorance, like most people would do.
But of course it doesn’t take Gaon long to remind Yohan about it.
Generally, Yohan wouldn’t mind being ogled when he’s mostly naked, just back from the shower with a very meager towel around his hips—he keeps himself fit, so there is something to look at. But Gaon, still in bed, propped up on his elbow, clearly stares at nothing else but a ragged scar on Yohan’s abdomen. And even points at it.
“Is it from the explosion?”
Doesn’t Gaon know it’s rude to talk of someone’s imperfections? Especially Yohan’s imperfections.
“Ah, this. No. That’s from when Sunah’s bodyguard shot me.” He tries a diversion, hoping for a change of topic: “That’s the reason I couldn’t get to the slums myself to help you. I could only make a call.”
It distracts Gaon for a moment indeed. His expression becomes stunned. “So it was you. You called Soohyun.” After a pause, he adds much more quietly, “I didn’t know you were shot.”
“It wasn’t that bad. Even the scar would have been neater, but I ripped the stitches when I was arrested.”
“Judge Kang is such a tough man. Surely, he won’t need painkillers just to renew a few stitches. But if he does, he only has to ask nicely.” Which had probably meant he should beg. He hadn’t.
Now it all seems almost funny. “It turned out to my favor, actually. They had to take me to the prison infirmary first. It would have been awkward if I bled out right after the arrest. They would prefer if <i>an accident</i> happened instead. An unknown inmate killing a judge who was maybe responsible for his sentence—it would have been a plausible explanation for my sudden and tragic death. But the visit to the infirmary saved me some time. There were only two attempts at killing me in the end. I expected more.”
He’d rather proud of how he’s handled it. He wishes Gaon could have seen both fights at Junbu Detention Center. Gaon had seemed to enjoy how he’d ripped through Jukchang’s acolytes with a baseball bat; that’s what makes Yohan want to brag. But at the same time, with distaste for himself, he recognizes this yearning for admiration…as insecurity. Look how good I am, at least at this. So don’t look at what might repel you, not now, not yet.
It’s deplorable how much he longs to keep Gaon in his bed, like this, unselfconscious of his own nudity. It had been both a surprise and not so much—how quickly things had progressed in that direction, all because of Yohan reaching out to poke at Gaon’s hand with the tips of his fingers and asking, simply to tease him, “Feel nothing still?” As it had turned out, Gaon had felt quite a lot, just not of a memory-reading kind. If he’d ever had a sexual identity crisis, along with other crises Yohan had put him through, a year of reflections must have put an end to it.
So Yohan takes advantage of it, an opportunist as he is. He will have this for as long as he can. But he knows all too well: when humans lose what they thought they had, they lose their minds too, so it’s better not to think of it as something really long-lasting.
He’s both relieved that Gaon is still unable to read his mind—and unnerved by constant anticipation because someday he might. It’s not like Yohan hasn’t warned him of every unattractive trait he has, but there are things that make you see a person differently, no matter if they are incriminating or not. He’s been crafting his image for so long, cutting off all the unbecoming edges, that he can’t be sure how Gaon sees him. Maybe as some mythical creature, something between a hero, a villain, and a vengeful demon. You can have sex with mythical creatures if you’re daring enough, but not a relationship, not really. He’s waiting for Gaon to realize that.
P.S. As for my other WIPs, I suspect I might finish my Doctor Who story first. There will be a lot of angst, as always. And some kinky stuff too :) I keep alternating between fics, though, so they progress a bit unevenly.
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merlyn-bane · 8 months
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15 People, 15 Questions
Thanks for the tag, @lttrsfrmlnrrgby!
1. Are you named after anyone? Do fictional people count? My mom named me after the little girl in a weird old movie she really likes. I'm pretty sure she gets kidnapped?? Idk. But I was a much less sweet and pleasant child than the one she named me after.
2. When was the last time you cried? Uh idk, maybe last week?? My sense of time is Fucked but @foreverchangingfandomsao3 got me with one of their whumptober prompts. I also got, like, weirdly strongly homesick a few weeks ago out of nowhere when a song came on that reminded me of my mom and I was already extremely emotionally exhausted so it kind of just sent me over.
3. Do you have kids? Absolutely not. I have a dog and two cats and they are more than close enough for me.
4. What sports do you play/have played? I wasn't awful the few times we played volleyball in gym class but I am a very far thing from a jock. I did do a season of color guard though
5. Do you use sarcasm? It's basically a second language in my family. I don't think I use it quite as much as I used to, though. Mostly it's my facial expressions that get me in trouble now.
6. What's the first thing you notice about people? I don't know. Tone, maybe?? If someone seems rude or like otherwise disinterested in having a productive interaction I tend to disengage really quickly.
7. What’s your eye color? Brown.
8. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. Media is, for me, first and foremost about escapism. I also like being able to sleep at night and already have issues with anxiety and hypervigilance.
9. Any talents? If you give me like 20-30 minutes and resources (manuals, youtube, etc) I can figure out how to do most things with my hands--which is how I've ended up with so many goddamn hobbies. I've done most of the work on my house myself, though, to include the kitchen backsplash. I can also make very cute robot lamps that have functioning outlets!
10. Where were you born? Coastal North Carolina
11. What are your hobbies? Writing, reading, digital art, painting, crocheting, knitting, cross stitch, home improvement. Probably some more things not coming to me right now. Making shit, basically. I have had to be all but physically restrained for like a year to keep me from playing with stained glass next. I'm autistic and I cannot be stopped. If I'm left unattended long enough I'll probably pick up another one.
12. Do you have any pets? I have a pittie/dogo argentino (mastiff) mix named Ziggy Stardust, a calico pain in my ass (cat) named Princess Jellybean of Doom (often shortened to Jellybean, or JB, or Brat), and a massive black and white cat named Captain Ravioli. A black cat and another 'dog' also live here courtesy of my roommates.
13. How tall are you? 5'3". 5'4" on a good day with a kind measure.
14. Favorite subject in school? I loved the sciences and English courses. I love history too but I didn't like it as a class in school because of the whole growing up in rural North Carolina thing.
15. Dream job? Recently, the only thing I have wanted is to be paid to make shit in a sunlit studio all day. I am exhausted with the concept of 'job'. Paleontology would be sick though.
I think I'm going to do open tags, to be honest, because my brain is not firing on enough cylinders right now. Play if you want!:)
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