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#going to bed so I'm maybe NOT miserable at work all day
pepsiwriteswords · 2 years
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🖊 + for whichever oc you'd like to talk about! :3c
!!!! :D
Okay! I thought I wanted to talk about Orym bc I love per so much but. Apparently I can only ramble to myself or in a discord chat. xP So. I'm gonna scroll through my WIPs and just ... pick.
You get: Whatever words come out about Distant Light's minor/supporting characters! (so, way more characters than 1 pen emoji, whoops. xD)
We've got Jax's crew, Serenity's team (assuming I ever get around to naming any of them), and I guess Jaylon should have at least a couple colleagues to mention/think about, huh? xP
So! (going under a cut bc ofc it got long, I decided to talk about so many characters, and didn't even get around to Jay's potential colleagues. xD)
Prism Crew: Erendiz (ey/em or it/its), Yildiz (she/they), Zesiro (he/she/they), and Test_0374 (it/its). ^^ Erendiz & Yildiz are siblings, named so purely because the names mean Jupiter & star respectively & it seemed fitting for sci-fi. xP (also, fun fact: deciding to give Erendiz it/its pronouns is what made me try them out for myself and uh, huh. xP) Zesiro is the eldest person on the ship & has a sibling of their own, though we won't be meeting them in the book. (I haven't even named them or anything. I just know They Exist xP) Test is the ship's AI, and is named Test for 2 reasons: 1) I am a lazy bitch who doesn't know science or technology terms & didn't want to spend a year trying to come up with a workable acronym, and 2) Jax is its creator and they are also a lazy bitch who didn't want to name an AI until it worked, and by the time it did (presumably attempt #374 lol), they were attached to 'test' & it stuck. Erendiz is covered in freckles, knows how to throw knives, can set fire to anything, & is the other computer genius-type on the ship. Yildiz dyes her hair blue - sometimes the ends, sometimes halfway up, sometimes all the way, it varies. But it's always blue. She's the sharpshooter, and she's ace so she might not fuck the cosmic horror but she'll absolutely try to romance it. Zesiro ... might be a cyborg. or something. I dunno, I saw a cool picture & brain said 'ooh, DL' & everything except the Main 3 & the aliens are very malleable right now. xP knows how to use a gun, prefers some kind of sword. bc Cool. nonbinary lesbian, usually playing Voice of Reason bc everyone else is like. 23, max and she is Tired. & Test! I love the idea of Test, but I haven't quite figured out what kind of AI I want it to be. Like. No 'taking over the world/sending all the humans out the airlock' kinda plot line here; we're sticking to the aliens, but. outside of it throwing Shayde & Malle under the bus as soon as they step on board, I haven't got much for it as a character of its own. Also it will probably threaten to start building itself a body to physically make Jax be a reasonable human being, but idk. xD I got Really Attached to these guys immediately after creating them, but then the inability to stick to one project came back around to bite me & the antagonist polycule took over my brain, so like. I've got nothing for them now. ;_;
The Aeris crew! They're a medical team! Funded by the gov't/one of the Main 3's family. This is another area where my knowledge is ... less than fuzzy & I haven't even started on research-type tasks bc I managed like. 2 personal rambles about the Main 3 & my brain went 'cool, cool, you're gonna think about BP now, and ooh, look at that prompt over there!' and what can I do but roll with the motivation? Anyway! I'm gonna say there are ... hmm, what's a reasonable number ... maybe 10 medical professionals total, but I'm only gonna name like. 3. because this cast is already Big & I get attached way too easily, apparently. xD So Imma just throw some names down on here & see what I can come up with. Morana, bc according to this thing it means death/illness & I like the thought of like ... I dunno if any of your teachers at school had you do this, but one of my language arts teachers in middle school had us look up the meanings of our names. I don't remember why. Anyway, I like the thought of this like, 12-year-old seeing 'death, illness' and thinking something along the lines of 'no, I don't think I will' & going on to be the exact opposite. I could probably come up with some very angsty backstory things to justify this name but we're just gonna move on lol Saren, bc I've been looking at names for a long time now & it's after midnight so. Name. Liable to change, except for how it probably never will now bc I said that. XD Went to do medical stuff in space bc ... potentially shady reasons. bc why not. Make everyone shady! Oh wait, shit, maybe -- no, wait - well. Well. Hm. might have a 'loyal to the Wrong Side except for in this one specific case' kinda deal happening here. >.> & ... Chayim. Again, bc I've been looking at names for a While. xP But also bc according to a thing it means life and, well. I have 'death/illness' up there, so why not lol. probably went to space to make First Contact, just to find out someone beat them to it. xD
...Okay. It's after midnight & I am tired. I quite literally forgot about Jay's potential colleague(s) until I scrolled back up to add the read more. xP I hope this isn't terrible-awful-difficult to read; I just didn't want a gazillion-mile long post & the way tumblr does its spacing bothers me T_T I will ... maybe remember to take notes on Reni's team at work later & might even decide on a Jaylon colleague or two xP. Or maybe I'll forget all about all this & try to figure out UWKM stuff again. Who knows? Not me!
Okay, bed. XD
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satoruxx · 5 months
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SWEET SNACKS.
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✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 2.3k words
✧ SUMMARY: tooth rotting fluff, meet cute, battles with inanimate objects, reader's got exams bc i have exams, satoru's whipped af (as usual), sorry i love writing him as a simp, reader is also whipped bc this is gojo satoru, bonding over snacks !!
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: if you saw me tryna post this yesterday no you didn’t. this was supposed to be a quick drabble oops. but it's finals week so i'm offering this piece of fluff to maintain sanity and gush over the meet cute i will never have. if y’all are also dealing with finals, i'm wishing you the best !!
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satoru strolls down the bustling streets with a quiet hum, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets to keep them away from the bite of the cold breeze. his boots crunch against the thin layer of melting ice that has formed overnight, now warming under the cold afternoon sun that coyly hides behind gray clouds.
honestly, he wasn't the biggest fan of weather like this, and he wouldn't have stepped out on any other day. but one meeting with the higher ups had his mood souring, and shoko had suggested he take a walk, maybe grab something to eat.
he knew better than to argue with her, especially since she could somehow read him better than most people could—scary.
so here he was, trudging down the streets of tokyo with his hat pulled over his ears, cheeks pink from the frosty air as it dances across his skin. despite the weather, satoru thinks there's something oddly peaceful about the city, the quiet chatter and sounds of boots scuffing against pavement as he turns a corner to head to the nearby vending machines he's frequented so many times.
the peace is broken by an annoyed grunt, and satoru looks up.
"are you serious?" another irritated groan. "of all the days…"
he takes in the scene with interest.
even with all the anger that he's not quite understanding, he thinks you're so undeniably pretty—puffy jacket hugging your body and the warm scarf resting around your neck. your brows are furrowed, exasperation tugging your features into expressions that shouldn't look so endearing.
you groan again, slamming your curled fist against the glass of the vending machine—frustration ticks at your brow.
and why wouldn't it?
nothing was going your way today. it had already started off badly, the atmosphere filled with gloom that made it impossible to want to leave bed. but you had to force yourself to miserably extract your body from the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows that urged you back with a siren's call—a promise of comfort that looked all too enticing.
and then, when you finally did manage to drag yourself to the library to sit down and study, nothing was sticking. you read through paragraphs over and over until your head was spinning, dizzy with information that wouldn't absorb, and that fact is nothing if not disheartening. the impending quickness with which your final exams were approaching made you feel even sicker, so you decided to take a twenty minute break to grab a drink from the nearby vending machines.
but of course, even that couldn't just work out.
satoru watches you stand in front of the machine with a glare, before you're shoving your weight against it, huffing as it remains in place and hoping that at least one of your efforts will prove to be fruitful. he's talking before he can help himself.
"hey, you need some help?"
you turn to face the owner of the voice, finding cerulean eyes behind black shades that so directly contrast the white of his snowy hair. he's tall—abnormally so as he peers down at you with curiosity and a bit of mirth.
you think you've never seen a man so handsome in your life.
then you remember he's asked you a question, and you attempt to swallow down the unnecessary nerves that have taken root in the pit of your stomach. "oh, my uh…my drink got stuck," you reply somewhat lamely, cheeks heating up under his gaze as you think about how utterly ridiculous you must've looked to passersby.
satoru's eyes travel from your face to the machine, noticing the way your drink of choice is stuck in a frozen free fall against the glass and the rack. he sighs in exasperation. "tried hitting it?" he asks, walking closer to stand next to you and take a closer look, even though he knows the answer already.
you're not sure what it is, but this man exudes a certain energy—confidence that leaks through his very skin. it makes you feel like you have no right to be standing this close to him, but all he does is smile at you patiently, waiting for an answer.
so you nod, brows ticking again as the dull throbbing in your fist reminds you of how you had lost the battle with the greedy machine. "yeah, i've been hitting it for the last ten minutes. didn't budge," you sigh, checking your phone to see that there are only a little over five minutes remaining for your quick break. "what a waste of time and money."
satoru watches you shrug helplessly, smiling up at him. "oh well—"
he takes two long strides until he stands right in front of the machine, grips the edges, and shakes it hard.
satoru can feel you gape at him, at the unfiltered display of strength, and the unbothered expression on his face that tells you it didn't faze him. you hadn't been able to move the machine even an inch.
his powerful movements earn you a tell tale thunk, and your heart leaps in excitement as he bends down to push his hand through the slot and pull out your drink. he returns to his full height, an easy smile on his face as he turns around and hands it to you.
"thank you." your voice comes out breathless, a weird kind of excitement thrumming through your veins because it feels like you aren't supposed to know this man.
satoru's smile stretches further when your fingers graze his, taking the drink and popping it open eagerly. he watches you take a sip, oddly pleased with himself at the sheer joy on your face. he doesn't quite understand why this drink looks like it's made your day, but he doesn't ask because you look so sweet drinking it.
"how did you do that anyway?" you ask after you drink a little, curiosity so obvious in your tone. "i tried so hard to move it and it didn't budge at all."
satoru smothers a smile, fighting back the urge to say something stupid. instead he grins, cheeks warming a little under your eager stare. "guess i'm just strong."
you make a face, raising a brow with a playfully disbelieving expression as you cross your arms—to which satoru just laughs. "what's your name?" he asks.
you purse your lips, hiding a smile as you tuck your nose behind your scarf. you give him your name, almost shyly, and satoru tests it on his tongue. he decides he likes the flow, cocking his head as he replies with his own.
"satoru."
for once, the pressure of his last name doesn't permeate the air, and he's all too grateful for it. he turns around to approach the machine again, and he can feel your somewhat confused gaze on his back.
you watch as he stands there for a good minute, his back to you as he ponders the choices in the vending machine like they'll lead to life or death. then he shoves in a bill and clicks a few buttons, and within a couple of seconds, you hear the thud of two things falling.
he remains facing away from you for a few more seconds and then turns around, and you see that he's bought a chocolate bar and the same drink that you have in your hands. you raise a brow.
"well you did almost just lose your life trying to fight a vending machine for it," he says, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. "figured it'd be good to try."
you sputter over your words, embarrassment crawling up your neck, but satoru laughs good-naturedly. his eyes shine with mirth as his shoulders relax. "i'm kidding." he stresses, smiling into the collar of his jacket. "but it does look good so…"
he opens the drink and takes a sip, eyes squeezing shut dramatically as he hums at the sweet flavors washing over his tongue. you suddenly feel like getting revenge for his unfiltered teasing.
"well?" you hum cheekily, taking a sip of your own and raising a playful brow. "taste good?"
satoru laughs—a full, pristine sound that makes him throw his head back. "yeah," he agrees easily, feeling oddly fond of the way your voice curls around your words. "it's sweet, i like it. you've got great taste."
somehow the words of this man you've met not five minutes ago cause the muscles of your heart to trip over themselves. you watch him peel open the candy bar, a brand that's unfamiliar to you.
"what'd you get?" you ask, unsure of where the confidence to speak up is coming from. a man like satoru—so unflinchingly ethereal—would normally have your lips zipping and throat muted.
he holds up the bar with a grin. "my favorite."
there's a pause, followed by your sheepish smile, and satoru gapes at you, cerulean widening so clearly behind a backdrop of white. he takes in your innocently confused expression and his ribcage shakes with thuds. "what, you've never tried it?!"
before you can even shake your head no, he's breaking off a piece and handing it to you.
"no, oh my goodness, it's yours—"
"take it." he pushes his hand closer to you, eyes staring imploringly, and you sigh, reaching up to take the piece from between his fingers. a graze of skin—he's warm.
"thank you." you slip the piece past your lips, not at all surprised by its sweetness and yet a little taken aback by its underlying comfort—a rush of warmth.
"good." you're nodding, smiling between chews as satoru's stomach flips. "really good."
he chuckles, all too triumphant for something so menial. "told ya."
you laugh, a quiet subdued sound that satoru wishes he could hear more of. "thanks for getting my drink out," you say. "i really needed it today."
"oh yeah?" he finds himself asking. "how come?"
you sigh, smile dropping as a bit of fatigue makes itself comfortable on your face. "ah well, i've got final exams this week. i've been studying like crazy. nothing's really sticking, and the closer i get to the exams, the more annoyed and stressed i get."
satoru hums, not envying you for a minute.
"so it kinda felt like a kick in the butt from the universe when the drink decided to not just…"
he laughs again, taking another piece of chocolate and chewing on it soundlessly. "i gotcha."
you grin, curling your fingers around each other to diffuse some warmth back into them. "yeah."
there's a silence that follows—not uncomfortable, not unwelcome. you take quiet sips of your drink, and satoru breaks off little pieces of the chocolate bar to chew on. his eyes linger on you, watching the way your lips curl around the bottle, the way your fingers rub against each other, the way the cold has settled into your nose and cheeks and made a home amongst your skin.
when you look up at him, he looks away, throat oddly parched. his fingers flex.
"here, the rest is for you," he says, pushing the half finished candy bar into your hands.
you shake your head immediately. "no way! you paid for it! besides isn't this your favorite snack?"
satoru shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grin that looks too happy. "you liked it, didn't you?"
you nod, slowly, like you're confused at what he's getting at. "well then, enjoy the rest of it. i buy them all the time—i don't mind sharing this one."
you can't help the soft smile that graces your lips, looking up at him with an odd sense of gratitude and surprise—touched that someone could be so casually kind.
"then thank you," you laugh quietly, eyes fluttering against the gust of cool wind that tickles your skin. "i'll enjoy it."
satoru grins, uncharacteristically pleased—he won't ever admit it, but he's glad shoko told him to take a walk. he'll have to thank her when he gets back.
he clears his throat, offering you a small wave as he turns on his heel to head back to the school. "well then, see you around. good luck with your studies, yeah?"
you smile with a gentle nod, oddly rejuvenated after seeing bright blue eyes and snowy hair. "thank you."
and then he's disappeared into the crowds. you laugh to yourself quietly, looking down at your drink and the half-eaten candy bar nestled between your fingers. a part of you feels strangely forlorn, wishing that you had the guts or confidence to talk to him a little longer—ask a little more.
but you've never been good at that, so even just this small happiness you'll take in stride. you grin to yourself, shoving the drink into your bag and slinging it over your shoulders.
you begin walking back to the library, fingers breaking off pieces of the chocolate and savoring the sweetness on your tongue. somehow you didn't expect a man with such an imposing presence to enjoy simple sweet things like this, but that just makes you all the more fond of him.
by the time you've reached the entrance of the library, you're shoving the last piece of chocolate into your mouth, sighing as the doors of reality swing open once more. the meager slice of giddiness that enveloped your very being dissolves, and all the reminders of what's left to do come back to suffocate you.
you bite back a groan, about to throw the empty wrapper in the trash when something catches your eye. you double-take, peering down at it with wide eyes and rapidly heating skin. there are a set of numbers scrawled there, along with a haphazardly written message:
in case you need someone to fight another vending machine for you -satoru <3
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tinkerbelle05 · 7 months
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Clingy Zoro x reader. You should make the story on Zorro and y/n are laying in bed after a wild night 😏. And y/n has to get up and go make breakfast but Zoro doesn't want to let her leave the bed.
Clingy Bastard
Characters: Zoro x fem!reader
Genre: Fluff
Summary: (Requested) Thanks luv 💚
Warnings: alluded to past and present sexual experiences also this is my first time writing for Zoro so please excuse any ooc.
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You woke up slowly, the morning sun shining light in the otherwise dark room. Blinking away the sleepiness, you saw the bright red numbers of the clock reading 11:30.
You briefly recalled that it was Saturday so no work for you to do but you still didn't want to rot in bed all day. Slowly you rose from the bed just to be pushed down back to the bed by Zoro’s arm.
He intertwined his legs with yours, trapping you in them and pulled your body closer to his, your back on his chest and his arm around your body. Holding you like you were his human teddy bear or something.
“No moving,” he mumbled tiredly into your neck. His voice was deep and croaky from sleep.
The audacity of this man.
He’s always doing this! Wanting to cuddle and snuggle until both of your bodies are sore due to the immobility and you didn’t know where your legs began and his arm ended so trying to untangle yourselves just made your already aching body hurt more. You two ended up pretzeled together for what seemed like hours (and it probably was) was not how you wanted to spend your Saturday morning.
Don’t get you wrong, you loved cuddling with Zoro. You loved when he held you against his chest, feeling his heartbeat through your back and the soft rising of his chest. It made you feel safe and warm and loved. Protected in a way that was unfamiliar to you for so long.
But you were….sticky. Yea, sticky and sweaty were the best words to describe the state that you were from what happened last night. They were the best words to describe Zoro too. But before showering, you desperately needed some food. And maybe coffee. And to y’know, get out of the bed too.
“Zoro, let go,” you said in your best “I’m not playing around” voice though it failed miserably judging by the way he snorted at you.
He hugged you closer to his body and you felt him slowly relaxing, his body melting into yours becoming one. He wrapped around you, coo-conning you into his body.
“No, let’s just stay here a bit longer. Why mess up a good thing?” He asked, his voice muffled a bit.
You sighed and thought about the best way to deal with the situation. Usually, after some begging and bribing Zoro would let do what you needed to do. But that’s when you need to do work so he would be less willing to comply when there was no work for you to do. And you didn’t wanna beg to just lay in the house all day anyway. And really, you weren’t that sticky.
No, no, no you definitely were.
So you had only one option. Something where you two would both get what you wanted.
“Wanna shower with me?” You offered to him. You saw his eyes slowly opening, cutting you a look with a sly grin.
He chuckled and kissed your neck, “Oh really? And what have I done to deserve such an honor?”
“Being a clingy, stubborn bastard,” you answered dryly and frowned at him but you couldn’t help the smile that was starting to form on your face when he started to laugh at your comment.
He dragged you onto his lap, his fingers digging into your waist, “Oh, I'm being clingy? Stubborn? You act as if you don't like it. Stop pretending.”
You rolled your eyes at him but was still smiling because despite how absolutely annoying it was, he was right. You did like it.
You’ll never admit it verbally though.
“That a yes or no, Roronoa?” You asked again.
Zoro gave you a toothy smile and carried you to the bathroom, slamming the door shut.
Something tells you that you wouldn't do much cleaning though.
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Tags: @puff-hugs, @msmisasoup, @localcowboyd, @purplepirateadventures, @the-skys-musical-echo, @thatgothic-nerd, @lovebunnys-world, @0picels0, @multifandomgirl2018, @charliepoopyfart, @cielitoot7, @tayharrper, @nikolaevna-art, @simpingmyassoff, @saturnwitheclipwze, @rotin0, @villainsmygods, @cherrysandmatcha, @borkbarnes, @villainouspotential, @ramielll, @poketrainer2270, @gingersnap126126, @2strawberries, @fujinnn, @n1ght5h4d3-24, @olliewhinchester, @dimplewonie, @penny44224, @justsomerandomw31rdo, @fuck-you-im-gae, @ghostysfanfics, @dearest-lady, @hopester08, @noway-leon, @avatarkanemi, @justthecasualreader, @fandomsunited, @707xn, @yoongi-holland, @don-tuna, @alienstardust, @darka-moon, @louiselamb12, @dazaisfavgf, @zenitsuisthemostrelatableinkinyc @heydemonsitsyaboilucien, @0amy5, @smolracoon25, @synchronised-beat, @flowerlds-blog, @secretlittlestudyblog, @dragonqueenfk, @foxflamewarrior, @theboisarehere342, @nightingale2124
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m0uchie · 2 months
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Riding scara so that he can get me pregnant as soon as possible 😇🙏 I wanna hear him whimpering as he is overstimulated AAGGAHA I NEED HIM 🗣️🗣️
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⟡ is it possible to get pregnant by a puppet? It’s worth a try! Or maybe two... Or three times...
— pairing : scaramouche x afab!reader
— warnings : NSFW; breeding kink; cumming inside; reader rides scara; overstimulation
— a/n : i should be studying, but I’m just too horny to :( it’s a bit short and rushed too, I’m sry
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It must be the nth time that Scaramouche has had to sneak into the house. Walking on tiptoe to avoid making noise as he passed through the room with the lights still off. His hands stretched out in front of his body with open palms and taking slow steps so as not to bump into anything since he couldn't see the way.
Unfortunately, he failed miserably. Once again.
"W-wait!" he hisses, trying to take away your arms that wrapped tightly around his waist. Low chuckles leaving your lips as you look up adorably, a smile that if he knew better he would say was sweet and rewarding to see after a tired day of work.
At first it was like that, you hugged him and kissed him fervently as soon as you heard the sound of the keys being inserted into the lock, rubbing against Scaramouche's legs and taking off his clothes, saying you would do all the work for tonight.
For him it was like a dream. His beautiful wife wanting to reward him for his hard day and making him feel good. But what seemed like a dream soon became too much. Exaggerated.
Your waist wouldn't stop even if nothing else came out of his cock, and Scaramouche would never be able to raise you from his shaft once you slid down on him, whimpering and pushing you back by your breasts, his mouth making a pout that made him even more irresistible.
"You're not gonna— mm! G-get it this time..." he pants as you ease your hands underneath his clothes and pull him into your shared room. His head falls hard against the mattress, cushioned by the softness of the pillow as you push him onto the bed.
He crawls on his back and finds himself with no way out when your arms cage him against the wall, bringing his face closer to yours.
"You didn't even let me kiss you today, babyyy." you whine, lifting his face by his chin so that it leans into yours.
You swore seeing Scaramouche's eyebrows drawn together in irritation made your pussy even wetter. You knew that even though you really took it hard, he would never seriously fight you about it, because he actually enjoyed what you did to him every night, and he always lost control at the end.
He knew the reason for your sudden change. All because he decided to help a child who was lost from his parents when you went out to buy ice cream. Maybe it was the sight of him carrying the boy in his arms? Or him going out of his way to help someone other than you? Either way, it awakens something in you, and as sensitive as Scaramouche was these past few days due to your insistence, he would put an end to it today.
“You’re ovulating, aren’t you?” He questions, making you blush slightly. He sighs deeply and touches the inside of your thighs teasingly. “I’ll give you as many kids as you want tonight. Is that what you want?” Your legs rub against each other before you nod and pull your loved one in for a hungry kiss.
Even with all the discussion beforehand, he gives in to you, parting his lips so that your tongue can enter his mouth and caress his. You think he doesn't notice, but he does when your dripping pussy rubs against his bent knee, shamelessly using it to ease the aching on your clit. He looks away from your face to shamelessly stare at the action, making you blush.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't..."
"Didn't want to do that?" he scoffs, chuckling. "You were so assertive until recently. What changed?"
"I wan’ it." you simply say, and he pulls your hips closer, urging you to move again. "What do you want?"
You take a deep breath, half-lidded eyes staring into his.
“I want you here." you press one hand against your stomach, and with the other you awkwardly try to undo your lover's belt. He raises an eyebrow at your attitude, but helps you take off both of your clothes that stood in the way without question.
"Fuck... So wet for me." He passes his fingers between your slit, making you breathe out shaky moans and rub yourself against his hand.
"Nnnnh... Mmm- n-no... Need your cock, Scara!" you ask. Your voice melting and so sweet that Scaramouche ends up giving in, not thinking much about it and licking his fingers covered in your sweet taste before positioning them around your waist, supporting your body before releasing you on his dick at once.
You squeeze your eyes shut at the sudden entry, but your fluids make it easier for you to get used to his girth. Scaramouche moves you against his pelvis with torturous slowness and low grunts come out through grinding teeth. You rock your hips against his, increasing the thrusts.
His eyes go wide when his hands are crossed above his head, being held together by you as his head falls back without even hearing you call him. It was too much, the feeling was intense and your walls hugged his cock so deliciously that he knew you were gonna milk him dry in minutes.
“Y-yes yes yes mmh, give it to me.” You mumbled, your face close to his and your cool breath heavy against his skin. He struggles to break free from your grasp until your hands become weak and he manages to let go of your grasp, holding your waist again in a failed attempt to slow you down.
The tip of his dick was so red and his length was so hard that he thought he would explode at any moment.
“U-ugh… stop! I-if you keep doing that, 'm gonna—“ his dick throbs painfully and releases a sticky fluid inside you. You mewl at the sensation, slowly rolling your pussy even lower his sensitive cock.
“T-too much… fucking wait…” His voice comes out as a whisper in front of you. “Just a bit.”
You smile in response, indicating that you’d heard his shameful pleading, then kissing his temple, down to the tip of his nose, and to his luscious lips. Sticking your tongue inside his mouth and clenching your walls with the heat and wet sounds that build between you.
“Shh, it’s okay.” You caress his face as you separate from him, then squeeze his cheeks with your hand to form a pout, which you kiss again sensually.
He moans against your mouth in response, too weak to even question what you mean. His head shakes, and you press your forehead against his to look deep into his eyes.
“Don’t you want your cum deep inside me?” His cheeks redden, having nowhere to look, and hesitantly nods. The way you looked at him made him embarrassed, and he couldn't help but agree. “I’ll knock you up, just be g-gentle…” his voice lowers as he utters the words.
However, nothing ever works with you, because in five minutes later, you were both rutting against each other as if you were in heat. Scaramouche's eyes squeezed shut every time he thrusts his hips against yours and roughly slammed his tip against your cervix. And shooting his thick sperm into your womb at every opportunity.
“Nn-nhh take it and get pregnant with my seeds, yeah?” Your tits bounce up and down as you ride him. “‘M gonna fill you up with my cum- hah~” he arches his back, and his long fingers close around your belly. Your mixed essences flow out of your puffy pussy as he fucks more into you.
With your vision blurred with pleasure, you collapse on top of him, cockwarming him for a while. It surprises you when he slides out of you and rubs his cum covered cock at your entrance, stoping to scoop up his seed and finger it all back into your tight pussy. When he is satisfied, he sticks his cock inside you again.
“And look, you even have a little bump here now.” He touches the area where his dick is buried in you and massages it, making you hum and bite your lower lip.
If a puppet is capable of making you pregnant, you have no way of knowing. But it doesn't mean you shouldn't try your very best until it happens.
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shalotttower · 4 months
Text
Fractalize (part 1)
Title: Fractalize
Fandom: Hunter x Hunter
Summary: Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness.
Word count: 3700+
Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female)
Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating a lot, morbid pondering, suicidal thoughts, explicit/triggering language/words, Reader's thoughts on possible sexual assault in future. Part 2
Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.
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Sometimes you stand in front of a mirror and try to picture yourself in another timeline. One where your life didn’t take this specific turn. You try to imagine a different setting, a different apartment - perhaps the one you had before Chrollo started moving you around like a luggage bag. Maybe living in a cottage by the sea or an old farmhouse. Someplace rural, peaceful. With a garden and fresh air, far away from the city noises.
It's difficult at first, your reflection keeps slipping through your mental fingers every time you think the image is set in place. But with practice it becomes easier, sort of, so you can now see yourself clearly as you brush your hair - not here.
A blue dress on, made for nights at parties with friends. Laughing until your stomach hurts and eyes become sore. Making silly faces over alcoholic beverages. Or you can wear your favourite jeans with a high waist and head out to the pub, the same one with crooked stools and a broken sign. Drink cheep bear, eat greasy peanuts from a little bowl, listen to some small band play unknown and unheard songs.
Leave intoxicated, and everything is too fast and vibrant and wonderful until you're back home.
It's your favourite pastime now: imagine, remake and slip.
Imagine. Remake. Slip.
You don't quite remember the last time you laughed, a month ago maybe. Maybe more. Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness, dull, cold, you would compare it to a winter plastered all over your insides, but it's almost colder than that. It freezes everything and turns it into icicles hanging off the roof.
Remake, slip.
You have new vocabulary now.
"Mm" - is for when he asks you if you like a dress or a top and it doesn't matter how you actually feel about it, because it's going to end up being worn anyway.
"Okay" - is for when Chrollo sets another fancy meal for you on a dinner table and "Eat, don't be shy".
"I'm not hungry" - doesn't work with him, even if it's the truth. You always eat what's put in front of you, that's the rule, because he's not above shoving the spoon into your mouth, so you spare yourself the tears and sobs that will probably come with that. It's so bizarre: how much effort he puts into keeping you alive when you're anything but.
"Whatever you want" - is for when he asks you something that requires a choice, between two or three options usually. He's not one for an extensive list.
"If you say so" - for everything else.
You used to delude yourself with the idea that if you managed to appear pleasant enough, pleasant-talking, pleasant-listening, smiling a bit here and there, it would gain you some privileges and perhaps a bit more freedom. It did. But never where it really mattered. Those little things were absolutely inconsequential in the grand scheme. Yes, you can have that sweater, dear. No, you can't have your own bed. Yes, you can come shopping with me, if you give me a kiss. No, you can't take walks without me holding your hand.
Yes this and no that.
Those moments were fragile and so very takeable that they didn't give you any sense of accomplishment, just a short respite and bitter aftertaste that made you feel pathetic.
Wasn't worth it.
***
"Do you like animals, dear?" Chrollo asks out of the blue one day. He's reading something on his tablet while you're curled up on the couch, watching TV.
It's a new series that's been on the major channels for a few weeks, a mystery drama about a girl who moves into a house she inherited from her grandfather. The picture provides a distraction enough to have you forgetting where you are for a brief period three times a week.
You pull the blanket higher. "I do."
He knows it.
The girl on the screen finds a mysterious box hidden in the attic. Perhaps there's something valuable inside. Or information about her grandpa; your fingers tug on a loose blanket thread without much thought.
"What kind?"
Or maybe it's just a time capsule with photos and postcards and random objects collected over the years.
Or-
You had a cat before he took you. A foster grey ragdoll with blue eyes who liked to rest on your belly and bump her head against your chin. You called her Miss Whiskerton and kissed her little nose, because she did act like a proper lady - poised, dignified and entirely too proud to eat food mixed with medicine. The worst enemy Miss Whiskerton has ever had in her cat life was the corner of your couch. When you weren't paying attention, she would dig her claws into the fabric and leave thin lines. You hope that someone took her in.
She probably thought you abandoned her.
"Cats."
Chrollo hums in acknowledgment and continues scrolling through whatever he's looking at - maybe news or auction listings, you don't know nor do you really care. You shift under the blanket, pulling your legs closer to your body.
"We can get one, if you'd like."
"No."
Your answer is immediate and short, without thinking. You know it, you know him by now - there's nothing Chrollo does out of spontaneous generosity, it always benefits him in some way. And you've studied him enough to figure that any pet would only be a tool to keep you tamed and compliant. Puppies make life better. Happier, lighter, with goofy smiling faces and wiggling tails. Cats make life better with soft purrs and paws stomping on your chest. They're too easy to love.
"Why not?" There's a sound of tablet set on a wooden surface.
The girl on the screen is trying to solve a combination lock on the box when the TV switches off and your little world of carefully shot scenes and scripted lines vanishes. You don't need to turn around to guess where's the remote.
She almost had it, but now you won't know what's inside until Thursday evening.
Your reflection stares back from the dead screen, blank-faced and with a blanket pulled up your nose. It tickles a bit. "Because I don't want one."
A chair creaks. "Why?"
You close your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. This is tiring. Always probing, digging, pushing. Trying to find chinks in your armor, but all you're wearing is just a flimsy dress with thin straps and a blanket you wish could swallow you whole.
"Don't need it."
"You said you like animals," Chrollo sits next to you and places a hand on top of your covered legs. He squeezes your thigh and you stare ahead, wishing he would just leave you alone tonight.
"I do." Your fingers twitch under the blanket, nails scratching at the fabric.
Strange. Sometimes it feels like he understands perfectly that you want to be alone, have time for yourself and don't want his constant physical presence. At the same time Chrollo brushes this all aside like old tin foil wrappers - insignificant. He pulls the blanket down and you cling on it stubbornly for a few seconds before letting go. His thumb and index finger grasp your chin and turn your face towards him so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.
There's such still intensity within him that made your skin crawl whenever he looked at you with this much focus and attention. You don't know what he saw there most times, it used to be fear or anger or sadness - right now it's none of these things. Everything inside you feels jammed and stiff.
"We should get a fish then," he continues, brushing hair out of your forehead. "You can watch it swim around, wouldn't that be nice?"
Chrollo talks to you like this sometimes, as if you're a child who needs to be convinced to eat veggies or take medicine. Like you're simple-minded and he's reasoning with you out of good will. It's sickening. You hate it.
"I don't want a pet," you repeat the words slowly. "If you're going to give me something only to take it away, then I don't want it."
His finger leisurely stroking your chin pauses at the edge of your bottom lip. Something flickers behind his eyes, it's barely noticeable but you've become good at catching those minuscule shifts. He smiles, yet there's nothing joyful about it. "Take it away? Why would I do that, dear?"
"Because that's what you do. Because that's how you are." You don't try to pull free from his hold, he'll only tighten it; not enough to hurt, no, he is too suave and polished for that - or wants to appear so - but enough for you to feel trapped under his palm.
There's something off about you, you can tell, but are not quite able to discern what or where. It sits in the very structure of your bones and eats away with ravenous appetite. An imbalance in the gut. Fever-warm body, cold fingers. Thoughts like potholes.
"And how am I exactly, according to you?" His voice is light, playful, a stark contrast to his eyes that study you with unnerving precision. Chrollo rarely loses his temper and never gets violent with you (yet, you correct yourself), but he has other ways of expressing displeasure, and they're petty, ugly and cold.
"Cruel," the word rolls off your tongue so effortlessly that almost frightens you; it's easy to tell the truth when you're this numb.
He looks taken aback for a split second, and the smile freezes. His hand stops midway to your hair. Then everything's gone.
Chrollo releases you and leans back into the cushions, almost thoughtful, like your observation is something that requires careful consideration.
"I suppose, it depends," he says finally.
"On what?"
"On how you choose to see things. Your perspective is bound to be biased, dear."
You don't respond.
To continue this conversation would be pointless and circular, like running on a treadmill, like everything else between you and Chrollo, really. He simply has too many answers to any possible argument, and no matter how convincing you manage to make them sound, he'll poke holes into each one. You don't want a fish. Or a cat. Or a dog, a bird, anything that moves and breathes and looks at you with big, trusting eyes.
Chrollo is cruel. Not in a way that's straightforward and brutal. Not in a way of someone who'd tear your limbs apart or rip off a fly's wing to see it wiggle. You have no doubt that he is capable of such a thing, but that would be uncouth. Cruelty in his case is a quieter, more delicate affair - in a way of a sculptor who'd chisel off everything unnecessary and unneeded, no matter the size or significance, to produce something entirely his.
His hands are soft, his voice is always composed, and he wears well tailored clothes. But the rest is sharp, clean and merciless.
"I think I'll go to bed," you say and push away the blanket.
"It's early."
"Mm."
He takes your hand just as you're about to slide off the sofa. Chrollo's always faster than you, always ahead and always observing, and that little realization while bitter is not so shocking anymore, more like another fact that you file away from your interactions.
You watch him. Wait.
"You're distraught," he says. "But you should know by now that there's no need for that."
Your hand remains in his grasp, limp and heavy.
"I don't enjoy seeing you upset, dear. Even more if you make false conclusions."
You turn to see the expression on his face - and there isn't one, at least not the type that most people would make. There are no frowning eyebrows, no clenched jaw that would indicate irritation, nothing like that.
"You're giving me too little credit," his tone is quiet as he runs his fingers up and down your wrist. "My intentions are not to hurt you. They are much, much sweeter than that."
"But you would," you say quietly and lean closer, ignoring the obvious implication behind his words. There is a hollow sensation inside of your head that prompts you to speak, everything is hollow - body and mind, heart, the space in your guts, your throat. "You would hurt me, if that's what you thought was necessary. Rip me apart and leave me deformed beyond repair, to fit into whatever framework you've laid, you would do that."
You're not being deliberately cryptic or fatalistic. These are your observations, based on a period of months spent together. They take root in no one being there for you anymore, in your phone which is long gone, in your closed accounts, your missing laptop and old clothes, the entire previous life in the city that has been discarded for something new. Chrollo was very methodical, you can give him that.
He doesn't listen, he studies your responses. Every single word. He has a talent for that, for absorbing everything about you while hardly ever letting you glimpse his interior - all that you know about him are tiny slivers which you picked up through living together, observation, accidental bits.
You expect him to contradict your statement, to offer a logical explanation why you're wrong, but instead Chrollo brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles. The touch is light and dry.
"You're not entirely wrong, dear," he says and moves closer until you can smell his aftershave, something fresh.
His proximity is uncomfortable, it always is and probably always will be.
"I'm right then," you say.
"No," he keeps your hand in his grasp. "But you're not entirely wrong either. That's what makes you interesting."
There's a strange kind of fondness in his voice, it's subtle, yet undeniably present. You've never felt less interesting in your life, in a dress with thin straps that's too fancy for a lazy day at home and your bare feet and tangled hair.
"If you say so," you respond and slowly tug your hand free. "I really want to sleep now."
You get up, and he lets you go without another proposition. The blanket falls off onto the sofa, and before you slip into the semi-darkness of the bedroom, he says,
"Not beyond repair. But I like to believe we can both agree it doesn't have to come to that."
***
The drive feels endless. Houses and streets blur in a mix of colors, shapes and people, which soon change to an empty highway with greenery on both sides. Trees and fields, tall grass swaying gently in the wind and rare cars passing you by. Chrollo's hand is resting on your leg; he hasn't moved it since the car started, but you choose to ignore it in favor of your regular pastime, the one that's made of imaginary worlds and places where the timeline stretches differently.
Mostly it's just you and the layout of your fake apartment.
Imagine, remake, slip. Repeat the steps until it becomes muscle memory.
You have this daydream on loop now. Wooden floor and wide windows, lots of sunlight. Books everywhere, comfy clothes and not a single skirt in your closet. A cup of tea with honey in the morning, and Miss Whiskerton curled into a soft grey ball on your lap. You feed her salmon in a shiny bowl, occasionally she catches a lizard outside and drops the tail on your doorstep as an offering, looking immensely proud of herself.
A smile slips on your face without meaning to, a wobbly thing; you promptly wipe it off.
It would be a crime to show such blatant joy. This fantasy has become so sweetly personal that every fiber of your being resists even acknowledging it in front of Chrollo. He can sense a stray happy thought from miles away, like a hound, and will never stop prodding until everything is raw and tender. You've learned to say less in his presence, especially if it's something that has you invested. Chrollo knows how to pick things apart.
You lean your cheek against the glass. This world would never happen, never in a million years, but dreaming doesn't hurt anyone, does it?
Your grandma, wearing an apron, sets a tray filled with fresh pastries on a table, because she's amazing like that. She fusses and worries and pretends to scold you. For not calling enough, for not coming sooner, for not eating well. For leaving.
"Dear."
You almost jump.
Chrollo's voice brings you back where his hand is heavy on your leg, you're wearing a dress above the knee and aren't allowed to use scissors or knives.
"Mm?"
"That frown of yours," he says, turning into a small road. The surroundings change again, it's quiet here, not a soul in sight. "It's been there for fifteen minutes now."
You sit up straight and move your hair out of your eyes. Chrollo's a perceptive one, so this is a reminder not to sink too deep around him, unless you absolutely need it.
"Was just thinking."
"You do it a lot lately," he states and looks at you from the corner of his eye.
True, but you have no intention to confirm it. First, he won't like the reason behind these thoughts. Second, he will dig and try to worm his way in. No. Most of what you've been fixating on, staring out of the window like a mindless drone, or reading and rereading pages that you barely grasped, would fail to create anything more complex in his heart than desire to pull it out.
For whatever twisted reason, Chrollo cares for your well-being, or, more precisely, your acceptance of his advances. Yet his way of caring isn't nurturing in any sense.
Chrollo's interest (you don't dare call it love) is crushing, too heavy to carry - he'll find what troubles you and "fix it" in way that will twist it into something pathetic. Something that shows how you have nothing else to cling on but him. You're not stupid enough to keep falling into this trap. Being a slow learner doesn't mean you don't learn at all.
He's done it before. He'll do it again. So you reply, "I haven't noticed."
His thumb rubs circles on your thigh; you press your shoulder against the car door as if hoping it might open. It doesn't, much to your disappointment.
"What was on your mind then?"
Something you shouldn't tell him, that's for sure. Chrollo's watching you, even if his eyes are trained on the road.
"Random stuff," you say. Half-truths, half-truths are safe. "A weird dream I had this morning."
If you bothered to look, you'd see a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of amusement at the corners of his mouth. You don't.
"Tell me."
You hate when he does that.
"It was boring."
"I'm interested in anything that made you so pensive."
Chrollo likes conversations with you, even if they're short. You can tell that he does, or he wouldn't be trying to make you talk and getting subtly frustrated when you choose not to. It never shows outright, Chrollo is very gifted at keeping his calm exterior, but there are certain giveaways like the slight tightening of his hand, an emphasized "dear", a pause here, or a quiet exhale through the nose. You could make a list out of these.
If you ignore him, he gets quiet and handsy or petty enough to throw away the only dress you feel comfortable in. Stop bringing you new books. Take you to places you hate.
It's always the small things that kill you, not the big, dramatic ones. The devils in the details.
"There was a lizard," you begin, and he hums in response, prompting you to continue. "It was cute with brown spots and a tiny tail."
Lies weave themselves easily, intertwine with truths and turn it into something that resembles a story.
"It was sitting on my windowsill and I wanted to pet it. A cat came out of nowhere and almost ate it, then I woke up. It's a silly dream."
There. Nothing to dissect here, not that you can see. Just a nonsensical dream, filled with random happenings and strange emotions.
"And that's why you frowned for fifteen minutes?"
"Yes, I got sad."
Yes, you think. Yes, Chrollo. I frowned, because I care for the damn lizard that doesn't exist, an animal from a dream. A stupid musing, nothing special, a very mundane and simple thing, because people do have silly dreams sometimes, and it's not a crime. It's not a crime and has nothing to do with that fact that I have a whole dream world where I'm not with you in my head.
"How peculiar. You never struck me as the type to get upset over something like this."
"You never asked," you respond flatly and Chrollo's hand on your thigh moves an inch.
It brushes up, closer to where you really, really don't want it to be, so you squeeze his fingers hard and redirect them to the curve of your knee.
"True," he says after a pause, not sounding too bothered. A month ago you would've brushed his hand off completely, probably that's why. Chrollo is convinced that with enough patience and effort he'll be able to close that final barrier between you both. Time, coaxing, a dose or two of endearment, some carefully calculated touch - but you'd rather stick a knife through your ribs than have sex with him. Or his patience will simply run out and he'll rape you. You're not delusional. Not a fool. "Well, that can be fixed. I'll make sure to ask about your dreams more often, dear."
You lean back into the seat and stare ahead, this time without anything pleasant on your mind. Of course he will. Of course he'll take this as a sign to dig deeper and invade that small bit of solace, Chrollo can't simply co-exist. He wants it all.
"Mm," you say.
Your new vocabulary is such a handy thing.
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oracle-of-dream · 17 days
Text
Stress Relief
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Minors DNI
Summary: You've been away on a business trip that's making you miserable. Wonwoo has just the thing to make you both feel better...
Warnings: Male reader, Business worker reader, Fluffy hair Wonwoo, Jerking off, Filming, Phone sex, Wonwoo is so perf
Wordcount: 1.2k
You let out a heavy sigh as you closed the door to your hotel room. Today was the worst.
You were out of town on a business trip for a few days, which was pretty normal. But the irritating part was that your boss was up your ass about the details, bearing down on every single little thing you messed up on.
You didn't greet the client right
You didn't offer them something to drink
You should've held the door for them
You didn’t offer your umbrella since it was raining (Letting you get soaked)
You could hear your boss' voice grating in your ears, dreading tomorrow as you did. But worst of all, you missed your boyfriend, Wonwoo. He's extremely self-sufficient, so he doesn't check in with you to see how you're doing until the end of the day when you call him. You knew he was trying to be respectful and not distract you while you worked, but maybe a little distraction was needed from the disaster of a day you had...
You changed into your pajamas as you called him.
"Hey, baby!" Wonwoo's deep voice rolled through the speaker.
"Woowie!" You cheered in a babyish voice, feeling the responsibility of being an adult lifted off your shoulders. Wonwoo always loved taking care of you and letting you do whatever you wanted, even if that meant you got a little spoiled because of it. He couldn't care less.
"How was your day?"
Your expression soured instantly as you thought about that day you'd had. "It was super bad! I hate it here!"
Wonwoo chuckled at you pouting. "Don't be like that. Go on and tell me all about it, I'm listening." There was some shuffling from Wonwoo, probably him getting into bed... You talked to him about your day, every detail your boss picked at you for–even critiquing your boss sometimes. Wonwoo silently listened to you, occasionally throwing in an "mhm" or a grunt to let you know he was still listening as you ranted. Some of them sounded more like moans, and you felt your cock twitch at hearing it. By the end, you'd tired yourself out and melted into the bed as Wonwoo spoke, "Jeez, baby, I'm sorry he gave you such a tough time."
"I know right!? He's so unbelievable." You heard another grunt from Wonwoo while you spoke, this one was more audible, making you trip on your words. "A-Are you alright?"
"Huh, no, yeah, I'm fine. It's just my game," Wonwoo assured you. "Please keep talking," His voice was a little hoarse this time and his tone was almost begging. You told him what you'd had for lunch and dinner, skipping over that you'd missed breakfast. "That sounds so good, baby," Wonwoo moaned.
You squirmed in the bed, turned on by the base of his voice. "I don't know what to talk about anymore... What game are you playing?"
Wonwoo was caught off guard by your question, strangely stumbling to answer. "It's–um, a new release. You wouldn't know it. Fuck..."
"Well tell me about it anyway, I know you like sharing." You listened closely as you could barely register him breathing heavily.
"Sharing. Right," your boyfriend's voice shook. "I-It's–um... A platformer, the ones where you need to jump from place," Wonwoo's voice caught in his throat.
"And?" You added.
Wonwoo whined, "More?"
"Yeah, keep telling me!" You closed your eyes as you listened to him closely, your hand sliding under your covers to rub your member.
"Well–it's just, I-I don't know..."
"Is the game hard?"
"It's so hard..."
"Well, I know you can do it. You're such a smart boy." Wonwoo groaned again, enjoying your praise. "Is the game long?"
"It's pretty long..."
"And are you going fast or slow?"
"...slow at first. Faster now."
"You think you can go faster?" You touched yourself to his words. Long strokes, starting slow but getting faster, squeezing your shaft hard.
"I-If you want me to."
"I like it fast," You say as a moan slips past your lips. You bite down on your tongue to stop more from coming out as you notice Wonwoo's gotten quiet. "Are you still there?"
"I-I'll be right back!" Wonwoo blurted out before hanging up. You blinked at your phone in shock. He hung up!? You immediately called him back but instantly got sent to voicemail. You sat in bed, stunned at him. Did you push him too far with the tease? You thought it was a weird cute mutual thing...
After a few minutes, you started getting ready for bed and turned off the lights. As you checked your messages, you had one from Wonwoo, with a video.
"Sorry I hung up, I was making this for you. You mentioned wanting a video like this a while back, but it was embarrassing."
You played the video. Wonwoo was wearing his glasses and a plain white shirt, at his desk in his office at home. He awkwardly looked at the camera as he set his phone down and answered your phone call from before. You could hear your voice from the phone, but your eyes were glued to Wonwoo as he stared into the camera. Slowly, to make as little noise as possible, he lifted his shirt to his lips and held it with his teeth, showing his abs. Then he slid down his pants just enough for his cock to pop out. He started pinching his nipples and jerking off to you as he listened to you. His face was pink, his nipples hard, and his dick leaked in the prettiest way. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he stroked faster and harder, right when you asked about his game. When you called him "smart boy" he almost fell out of his chair, ripping his hands off his cock so he didn't finish.
He didn't stop for long.
Hand now attached to his cock again, "It's pretty long." Wonwoo's strokes moved his full length. "...Slow at first, faster now." Wonwoo's hand worked himself over so fast his body started shaking. You could hear the slight sound of his hand with precum around his member.
His body glistened, his shirt stretched as he tried not to moan louder, and his hair stuck to his forehead as sweat dripped onto his stomach. When you asked him to go faster, Wonwoo's fucked out expression as he looked at the camera told you everything. He was gonna blow.
"I-I'll be right back!" He blurted out. As soon as he hung up, he stood so his cock was above the table and finished. His cock shot ropes, making a mess of the table, his phone, and even shooting onto the camera lens. Through the blurry video, you saw Wonwoo collapse into the chair as he tried to catch his breath. "I... love you, baby," He whispered as he wiped the lens clean, giving you an up-close look at him. "Come home soon, I miss you." He smiled goofily and turned off the camera, ending the video.
You texted immediately, "Wonwoo!?"
"Yeah?"
"This was so fucking hot. I need another."
"I tried recording it on my own. But it was so hard to cum, without hearing you..." You imagined Wonwoo's expression when he texted that, probably covering his face in embarrassment.
"When I get home, we're fucking. End of story."
"Okay, babe."
You watched the video again, jerking off until you were satisfied. As you drifted off to sleep, you wondered how you could repay him...
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suiana · 4 months
Note
yo i saw ur rb && feel free to write about the renting concept!!! if u do pls tag me i’d love to see <33 😋
😻😻 rhanks genie
(yandere! rental boyfriend x gn! reader) (shitpost kinda) (concept based on this post)
you know, it's not like you were ugly, dumb or poor. in fact, you consider yourself rather attractive, smart and quite rich. but it seems that no one has noticed that which... might've been why you were single for a very long period of time.
very meaning from when you were born up until recently.
you had always desired for a relationship. wanting to experience the joys of love, the romance, the contentment you get whenever you're with that special someone.
unfortunately you never got to experience that. never. even after putting down your dignity and renting a boyfriend.
you had rented a rather pretty looking guy from this... dodgy website called 'rent-a-darling'? was that the name? it probably is. what a weird website it's called. anyways, it was basically a rental boyfriend/girlfriend website and you had absolutely struck gold with it.
perfect face, perfect body, incredibly intelligent... he was basically a work of art. and his personality wasn't half that bad either! he cracked jokes and they were entertaining enough! he made you laugh, feel better about your miserable love life...
but he just wasn't it.
so you decided to end contact with him. there was no point in continuing that rental service anyways. it's not like he'd like you back even if you fell for him.
except that was exactly what happened?? a few days after you officially ended your contact with your absolute god of a rental boyfriend, he showed up at your doorstep, panting as a lovesick look paints his beautiful features.
you were concerned to say the least. after all, you had never seen him act in such a way before. which was why you allowed him in... which led you to your current situation which was far from ideal.
"could you let me go please? my arms are sore..."
"you know, you're really cute like this."
you merely sigh in response, looking away as you grow awkward under his obsessed gaze. this has been the fifth day since he tied you up, only allowing you to leave the bed for meals and the toilet.
and in those five days he's openly admitted to be in love with you.
while it was nice and endearing to hear such words, you only wish it was from someone you actually loved back. and maybe not as crazy as this guy was.
"can you please let me go? do you want money or something? i can give it to you-"
"what i want is your love, and that cannot be bought with money."
he interjects promptly, still smiling at you with his pearly white teeth which were honestly starting to creep you out. why were they so white? why was he so objectively perfect? and why was he madly obsessed with you?
"hey can i just ask something? why are you so obsessed? like just why."
he pauses for a second, hummung contently as he shuts his eyes for a bit.
"I'm not sure why,"
his eyes open again and he continues his sentence. this time, you can't help but feel an impending sense of dread in your gut when he speaks.
"i guess i just really adore you."
he then giggles oddly, tugging at your bedsheets as his face nears yours.
"you complete me, my love."
you grimace as his face nears yours. ugh, what you wanted was that lovey dovey shit you saw on television. not whatever this was. kidnapping and constant moans of how your captor loves you.
but oh well, it is a relationship. just not the one you wanted. maybe you could learn to deal with it-
"darling! if you tell me how much you love me, block everyone else you know, leave your job, and promise to run away with me, I'll untie you! how about it?"
...yeah, you're not dealing with this. perhaps you're just not meant for love.
538 notes · View notes
amaranthineghost · 5 months
Note
ahh!! i think i speak on behalf of a lot of people when i say i need a part two, because that was so amazing and so beautifully written 🫶🏻🫶🏻
| I CAN'T NOT HAVE YOU, I'LL TRAVEL THE SOLAR SYSTEM TO MEND OUR STARS ( lando norris. ) |
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ꕥ pairings: lando x reader
ꕥ parts: 1
ꕥ tagging: @gulphulp
ꕥ summary: they hadn't seen each other in months after their breakup, which left them in more misery than they thought. because now they'll do anything to make it work.
ꕥ authors note: I've been planning this in my head while writing the first part to this and i really like how this came out! going to work on christmas imagines and also finish up a request that I've been meaning to write!
ꕥ warnings: smut (at the end if you don't want to read that part), heavy angst (wanted to break some hearts), mentions of alcohol abuse and heavy drinking, mentions of eating struggles. not proofread the end.
IT'D BEEN MONTHS. months since he last abandoned her in their old apartment. since he drove off in his mclaren, punched the rearview mirror because he couldn't take it. to this day, he regretted it with every fiber of his being. he tried to convince himself for days on end, it was for the better. but was it really?
he was struggling. he couldn't sleep properly, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling beside him in the bed for another warm body, breaking his heart more every time he reminded himself that she wasn't here. it was cold.
it was cold despite the blistering summer heat of monaco, windows open to let in the heat. max swore at him every time because despite being rich, he was letting out cool air. but lando couldn't stand the cold. without her, his heart was frigid.
it worsened as the months grew colder and races passed him by. he was peforming fine, for now, but he'd reach his limit soon enough.
he hated when the air got bitterly frozen because this year, he wouldn't have her. he wouldn't have the heat that radiated off her to keep him warm.
he'd waste himself away with alcohol to forget the memory of leaving her. it turned his stomach in knots everytime to think of her watching him leave because they didn't know what to do to fix them. he wish he knew, he should've.
more often than not, he'd spent his nights on bathroom floors of the club, puking his guts out into the toilet, or sitting on the kitchen floor belonging his temporary roommate, max fewtrell. he sat against the tiled floor and wooden cabinets with a half-emptied bottle in his hands, tears on his face.
he'd sit there for hours, wasting away with every sip burning at his throat. he hated alcohol, but it was the only way to cope because he didn't want to remember any moment without her.
when he was nearly passed out on the floor, max would drag him up by his arms, forcing more than a few glasses of water down his throat. he'd grown familiar with his friend's new sulking.
max threw him on the guest room bed he didn't bother to make because he was miserable. he made it everyone's problem then. he'd leave his passed out friend a concoction of medicines to help with the hangover, he'd gotten used to this routine for the past couple of months.
when lando would stumble his way down the stairs, hands wrapped in his curls with a splitting pain through his head and a grimace on his face, all max would comment is "well, aren't you a pitiful sod."
lando rolled his eyes, groaning at the pain as he did so, sitting on a chair at the table across from his best friend, cringing at the resemblance of dinners with his girl—who wasn't even his anymore.
"jesus, mate, maybe you do need an intervention." he'd push his bowl of oatmeal towards lando, watching the expression on his face closely.
"I'm fine."
"clearly not," max scoffed, "mate, it's great havin' you here, but y'need to sober up."
"I will."
"you've said that last month, and the month before that, and the month before that." he shook his head, "I don't even get why you guys broke up."
lando groaned, rubbing his fingertips to his temple and chugging the water before he spoke, "it wasn't working out, 'ts for the best."
"for the best? are you kidding me?" he scoffed his friend's words, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
to max, breaking up was for the worst. he could tell lando was in misery, and he'd guess she was the same, maybe worse. maybe he didn't know much, but he knew enough to know that they were meant for each other.
"I'm not kidding," he muttered, pushing the oatmeal around the bowl, his spoon clinking against the sides, "besides, we tried to fix it, 'n it didn't work."
he paused, "fix it 'ow?"
lando rolled his eyes, feeling the consequences of his actions through his head, mumbling under his breath, "we went out to eat."
"you're jokin' me?" he leaned forward, a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face, "you went out to eat? how's that goin' to solve anything?"
lando shrugged again, refusing to look max in the eye as he pushed the mush around in his bowl, picking out the bits of fruit throughout.
"you're a real geezer, y'know that?" he sighed deeply, leaning back into the stool as he sat looking at his idiotic friend, "it was a perfectly salvageable relationship, mate, and you just threw it away." he shook his head, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned his head on one hand.
"you gonn' call me a muppet next?" he aggressively bit into the small strawberry.
"might as well because you're acting like one. now why did you break up with her?"
"she broke up with me." he quietly corrected him, though it didn't seem to shed light on the fact that they didn't try as much as they thought they did.
"then fight for your relationship!" max exclaimed, throwing his hands up in response, "did you ever talk about what was wrong?"
"we didn' have time to," lando admitted, "and we didn't know what to do." he pushed aside the bowl, having barely touched the food residing in it. it's gone cold now, just like him.
"make the time!" he suggested, jabbing his finger into the counter to make a point, "when was the last time you were alone together?"
"when we had dinner together."
max groaned, shoving his face into his hands, rubbing his closed eyes on his palms. lando was starting to give him a headache, "when was the last time you were alone together, no people, no cameras, no fans, just you and her doing something?"
"i 'ont know."
"jesus, man." his voice muffled into his skin as his face remained in his palms because of the idiocracy of his friend.
"well, what do you suggest i do then, max?" lando's tone got seemingly more aggressive and annoyed, the volume of his voice raising slightly.
"actually spend time with her! take her on holiday!" he suggested, matching energies.
"mate, I can't just ask her after months of not speakin'," lando's stool pushed against the floor as he stood up, he was agrivated. he harshly grabbed the bowl with the cold food and shoved it in the sink.
max turned in his seat, "right, so just give up and go back to drinkin' then?"
lando ignored the comment, it infuriated him because max was right. if he didn't find the solution to his problem, he probably would go back to getting blackout drunk. all in hopes that'd help forget his misery
he leaned against the sink with his arms, his head hung between his inner biceps with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths before asking, "how should I ask her then?"
"you truly are a muppet."
"christ, just help m'out here!" lando pleaded because he couldn't take it anymore. he'd been losing himself to however many bottles of alcohol that'd stacked in the bin and the amount of over-the-counter drugs he'd force down his burned throat. all to forget what seemed like an impossible fix, but all he needed was another person. just because they didn't know what to do doesn't mean others wouldn't.
and of course max would help. he just had to give lando a hard time for screwing up so badly because he would've never expected him to show up at his front door midday, stumbling drunk and muttering slurred phrases about her.
his first thought when he saw his disoriented friend was to wonder if something had happened, the obvious answer being, obviously. because lando barely drank. max knew how much he couldn't stand the taste and chasing burn so it wasn't often you'd catch him drunk, much less to this extent.
he knew it had to involve his girlfriend by the here-and-there words he could decipher from the rest, but he couldn't expect to get the full story from the utter nonsense his friend spewed.
it wasn't till morning max discovered the extent of lando's stupidity.
" 'ts your relationship," max sighed, "and you realize she might not be so accepting to see you."
it hurt to think about. he didn't know what was worse, for her to be in such misery like himself or for her to not want him back. his stomach tied itself in knots to even think about, but he was the one who left her in the first place.
"yeah, I know."
he was lost without her. everything seemed so meaningless without her by his side, though she hadn't been for months, even when they were together. but the idea of her presence somewhere in his vicinity was all he needed.
she was like a drug he tried so hard to quit because it seemed to be getting him no where. but he was addicted. all he thought about when he wasn't drunk was her. every single dollar wasted on booze was drank to forget her. the lack of her in his life.
so when he showed up at her doorstep, it was more than just a shock. she'd opened the door, the last thing she expected was to see him, standing with an expression that seemingly matched hers. the smell of booze wafting from his clothes and the bittersweet smell of his cologne she had long forgotten about. smelling it again brought back everything she tried to learn to forget about him.
she wanted to be mad, to push and kick him away, but she'd been waiting for months for him to reappear into her life. for him to come back to her, the anticipation built in her body every time the door bell echoed off the walls, or knocks that pounded against the door.
but instead she slammed the door almost immediately, and he didn't blame her. how could he when he'd been the one to leave. because on the other side of that door, her heart was pounding.
she'd been wanting to see him for so long, so badly wanted him back in her life, but what if they made the same mistakes? she couldn't take losing him a second time because she'd already lost most of herself when he drove away the first time.
because she'd watched her future slip through her fingertips and there wasn't anything she knew that would make her catch it.
she knew she was to blame for breaking them up. it was for the best, she told her guilty conscience, but it didn't change the heart-wrenching want to have him back.
she'd spent months in the cocoon she made of their cold bed, ultimately settling on his side to feel closer to him. but what was the point? he hadn't slept in that bed in months, the sheets that reeked of him faded, and even more so when he left her, for at the time she thought, forever.
"love, please," he pleaded against the door, his forehead against the cold metal, "I screwed up, but please, let me fix this, us."
she hesitated. she knew she was the type to let people who hurt her back into her life so easily, as if nothing happened, but she was the one who forced him out. she knew that.
so when the door creaked open, he pushed himself away from the door as fast as lightning. her doe eyes peaking around, staring at his chest before they found their way to his face. he'd changed. he looked tired, unkept. she'd be lying if she said she looked the same as she did months ago because she honestly looked worse than him.
because being apart brought out their worst qualities in themselves that they'd helped the other through, but it resurfaced.
when he'd gotten a good look at her, he realized she definitely wasn't the same girl she was months ago. he'd notice the dark circles under her eyes, half-lidded and puffy, begging for sleep. the oversized hoodie he left her, though surprisingly clean, was well-worn by her. through the baggy cloth, he could tell her physique was slimmer, he felt nauseous.
she couldn't stand the silence between them even when they lived the last months of their relationship filled with it. they were both hurting and they both knew it, but they'd assume the other would be the one to patch it up. that's where they messed up, they seem to do it a lot.
"so why now are you here?" she'd cut through the silence with a butter knife, sawing back and forth as she stumbled where she stood. she struggled to keep her balance, lack of energy will do that to you.
"I realized how much of an idiot I was," he stepped closer, bringing his hand to hers, pressing her fingers between his. he trailed the pads of his fingertips down her hand and to her wrist. he'd latch on, caressing the soft skin, he'd remember the feeling.
"but I was the one who broke you with you."
he didn't mean it like that, to insinuate that she was the idiot for breaking them up because in no way did he blame her. he put the blame all on him for not fighting for them.
" 'nd I was the one who left."
she stared up at him, her big eyes doing things to him, he shouldn't feel it in a moment like this, but he did. he just wanted her back, to feel her lips on his, her smooth skin under his soft but callused hands.
her lips parted when she'd realize the feeling of warmth against her face, his hand running along her jaw to her chin. though she was already looking up at him, he pushed her head up further, but so softly.
his voice was raspy and deep, pleading, "please, darlin'." she couldn't say no even if the voice inside her head and the feeling in her heart told her to.
"just don't leave again."
he could never, not after the misery he'd been through without her, blackout nights to forget everything that had led up to their break up. he couldn't imagine the anguish he put her through.
and at those words, he couldn't hold back anymore, his lips colliding with hers so desperately, like he needed her to survive. he kind of did. he tasted faintly of alcohol and fruit, she tasted like mint. her lips moved softly against his passionate kiss because he was acting like she was his oxygen, his water, his everything because she was.
his hand tangled in her hair, the sounds of their breaths between their lips, the heavy heat that surrounded the air as they separated.
"let's go somewhere," he'd suggest, his chest rising and falling more noticeably now.
her lips became a swollen pink as she looked up at him, dazed as her eyes flickered between his green eyes, "where?"
he shook his head, smiling. god, she missed that smile. he spoke so softly now, "anywhere, you pick. it'll jus' be us."
money didn't matter to him. if she wanted to travel to the moon and back, he'd make it happen because he wanted to make things right. he wanted to show her he was all in now because he would never take another step out ever again.
so they'd travel across the world. he'd rent out hotels, restaurants, amusement parks, anything she'd want. like max said, he wanted this between the two of them. no cameras, no fans, no public. just them enjoying their time together and alone at the most beautiful places she could think of.
she'd end up on an island with him, the only other people being the employees of the resorts he'd rent out. he did everything with her.
they went on yachts around the crystal waters and coral reefs surrounding the beaches that they'd later lay and tan on. they'd talk as they bathed in the sunlight. snorkeling while holding hands and pointing out various species that inhabited the waters.
candle-lit dinners sitting across from each other, though their hands never left each other. they'd been offered fancy wines, lando ultimately opting out. she understood. they tried the exotic foods and other virgin drinks the resort had to offer.
they had long runs along the beach, heavy makeout sessions on stranded towels where they couldn't take their hands off the other, deciding to take the trip back to their hut over the waters.
when they'd make it back, he wasted no time because he missed her, the feeling of her around him, the taste of her.
as soon as the hut door slammed shut, his veined hand would be pressured on her neck, pushing at the skin under his fingertips to pull her into his lips. he was desperate, she knew that.
his lips were harshly against hers, she could feel the vibrations of his groans against her flesh, feeling his working hands across her chest, having left her neck temporarily to undo her tied bikini top. it was discarded onto the wooden floors with no further regard. they'd separate, foreheads pushed together and their noses clashing as their breaths mixed in the middle.
his head dipped below her jaw, biting at the skin of her neck. whimpers left her lips and she felt his smirk on her skin while she grasped at his curls. he slowly pushed their bodies towards the open laid bed behind her, her calf's meeting the mattress. he tugged at the elastic of her beach shorts, though deciding to take his time, which made it all the more agonizing for her, she needed him.
his lips trailed her body, leaving trails of his saliva and marks where he nipped at her skin, from her neck down to her chest. he groped her tits, earning a low groan from her as his tongue swirled her areola. she tugged his hair, his curls between each of her fingers as she bit back the sounds that forced through her throat. he was starved of her, which only turned her on more. she felt the heat between her thighs.
he'd kneel on his knees in front of her as he'd continue to leave a string of dark hickeys down her skin as he'd continue to her stomach, and just above her panty line, pulling the elastic of her shorts down. she'd almost just rip them off because she couldn't take how slow he'd move compared to when they first ended up in this situation.
his finger wrapped around the band, slowly pulling the material over the curves of her body, but he'd left her panties, which infuriated her. he did it all while looking straight up into her eyes, the glint in his eyes filled of lust and mischief. he'd lift her leg with his hand wrapped around the back of her knee, helping her kick off the clothing.
he'd kiss the skin just above the side of her knee, his lips glued to her skin as they traveled higher up her thighs, as well as his hands, sliding under the side of her panties. his nose brushed against the cloth of her cunt, ghostly stimulating her clit. it provoked a reaction out of her as she whined, and he'd continue to kiss along the line of her undergarment.
he may have started off desperate, but now he was taking his sweet time to take care of her. she wanted to badly for him to just hurry it along, wanting to feel him, but he'd rather enjoy the moment he had with her, like it was his last.
he pushed aside the cloth barrier, licking his lips as he eyed the wet patch caused by him, his warm breath panned across her cunt and she pleaded, "lan, please." god, he loved to hear her beg, it was music to his ears, but her moans were a symphony.
his two fingers slowly parted her folds, feeling her pulse under him as she moaned against the contact, he 'tsk'd at her reaction, "so wet for me, darling." his voice was raspy, deep and she cursed under her breath as she watched him lick her off his fingers.
the taste of her brought him back, he'd savor it because he hadn't before, not when he didn't realize it could've been the last. she was sweet, her skin smelling of vanilla as his nose brushed against her.
he'd had enough teasing for now, and gently he'd pull down her panties. she'd be fully exposed, but he was still dressed, his clothes feeling tighter around his body, specifically his swim shorts.
he didn't care. he'd thrown one of her legs over his shoulder as he flattened his tongue across her, feeling the tremble in her standing leg. he'd bury his lips in her cunt, vigorously tasting her like he hadnt eaten in weeks. his tongue lapped at her heat and she let out strings of curses interrupted by moans as she'd tug him closer to her by his hair.
vibrations of his groans stimulated her clit as he softly nipped at the sensitive flesh. he'd lapped at her cunt for not long before it became overwhelming, her moans growing high and squeaked as her legs nearly buckled.
he kept going, looking up at her with massively dilated eyes, half-lidded and seductive. her jaw went slack as she stared into his eyes, she felt the crescendo of her high and she'd nearly scream out his name as she came on his tongue. he'd lick up any remaining juice of hers.
his tongue left one long trail over her cunt, pressuring on her sensitive before pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting to his mouth and her slick glistened on his lips and chins. she panted heavily, he watched the rise and fall of her chest, felt the shaking of her knees as they nearly gave out under her.
he'd smile up at her, his goofy grin greeted her after her hazed high calmed. she'd roll her eyes at his light-heartedness after she'd just came on his tongue.
but it was moments like those that'd bring back the spark of youth and naivety to their relationship. because it was what they'd needed all along. all they needed was each other.
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a-jynx · 7 months
Text
buried promise (Astarion x reader)
bg3 has had me in a chokehold, specifically a certain vampiric rogue.. and i felt angsty, so i hope you enjoy !
maybe this will get me into writing after years lmao - this may be out of character, but i just needed this for my lil heart okay ;-;
angst warning tbh <3
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You swore you'd find a cure. You swore to fight for him.
Yet, you forced him to promise to live if you died- he laughed when you said it, not truly believing such words from you... Why would he? You were cursed. Easily fixable... Right?
He sent for anyone - everyone - that could and would help you, but no luck came your way. The curse was progressing faster by day, he could see it. Draining the color from your skin, sucking up your warmth like a fire being snuffed out. Even, your eyes changed colors. Becoming something dull. Lifeless.
You saved the city. You helped even the most miserable low lives when you wouldn't benefit from it. And you... You helped him. Saved him. He swore to save you just like you did for him. Nights became longer as he sat rereading the books Gale had scavenged up for you. Rubbing sleep from his eyes while glancing at your sleeping figure curled up in one of your armchairs; snuggled into a cocoon of blankets to help you keep warm. You looked peaceful. No pain, just peace. Rolling his shoulders, he grabbed another book before practically stabbing his nose into the musky pages. He was going to save you.
"You promised to try, my love," he murmured into your hair, brushing it from your eyes as you curled further into your shared sheets. Cold nipped at your fingertips, biting at your blood supply as if it were your lover. "I tried, my star, but I just want to rest-"
"You've rested enough," he bit, crawling into bed behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. His grip shaking. "It's time for you try and get up. Move. You're letting this curse take hold and.." His voice trailed, feeling his chest ache. A tight bubble strangled his voice, quieting it. "Please." His voice was barely a whisper. "Please, try." You glanced over your shoulder to see him. His ruby eyes brimmed with tears. Turning in his hold, you pressed yourself into his chest, gripping his shirt tightly. Your shared ring catching on the fabric as you felt your own tears well up. "Aeterna Amantes," your lips pressed a careful kiss to his exposed skin. Dotting your way up his throat as you felt tears drip past your lips. "Lovers Forever."
He remembered teaching you that. That was his promise to you the day you slipped a ring on each other's finger. Now it's become your promise to. Even if you lay on Death's doorstep, your last breath would be a promise of love to him. A promise for his peace.
"Aeterna Amantes," his voice shook before he buried his head into your hair, lips fangs catching his already chewed lip. Pressing quick kisses against your crown as you allowed your own tears to caress your cheek, he bit back a bitter laugh. "I'll find something." He whispered, hiccupping back a sob. "I'll save you." Wrapped in your sheets and each other, somehow you felt more... Alive than you have in these last days. "I know you will."
Time had not been kind.
He failed. And he kept failing, and failing, and failing - everything seemed to work against him in this rush against time. This curse had sucked your very life from your bones and left you bedridden, hells, you couldn't even make it to the other side of your bed.
"There's not more we could do?" He could beg..
"I'm sorry, my friend, but we've exhausted all of our options." He could slaughter. He could give away the ring that keeps him from bursting into ashes at dawn. He should've protected them. He could've- "The best you could do now is, just be with them. Fill these last moments with peace." He was tired of peace. He wanted life.
"Right. Well, I trust you can find the door," he turned away from his friend, the one person he thought could save his lover - his darling - Had failed him. "I need to keep searching."
"Astarion, these might be their final moments and they're withering away-"
"Do you believe I haven't realized that, Gale?! I'm watching them become a husk of their former self!" He couldn't fight back the laugh, yet tears dripped down his cheeks. "I am the one who watches as they wither away in our very bed. The bed that should've been warmed by them for years to come have it not been for the wench we met! I busy myself with every book and scroll that the lands and seas could offer me! I sit beside them waiting," his lips trembled. "I sit beside my lover waiting for their breathing to stop. For their heart to quit. To take them away from me,"
"I meant no harm,"
"And yet, you suggest I sit idly by and allow my love to perish." Astarion moved upstairs, listening to the front door slam shut behind his friend. He felt his legs give from beneath him, his knees slamming into the stairs. Kneeling there, he pressed himself against the wall, gripping his white curls with shaking fingers. Tugging at the ends, he jumped at the loud thump that came from the top of the stairs. Moving quickly, he nearly fell at the sight.
You sat up from your kneeling, holding your knee as he rushed over, grabbing the blanket that rested around your shoulders as you leaned into his chest. Sweat dripped down your brow while you wheezed, trying to catch your breath. "What happened," he searched over your body for any marks. His fingertips grazed over your old battle scars and even his old love bites, the ridges seemed to chase his touch. "Why're you out of bed, my love? You should've called for me-"
"I heard you and Gale," you murmured into his shirt. His grip seemed to tighten around your waist as you curled further into him. "I know our time is coming to an end." Your breath seemed to be so hushed that even his ears could pick it up. Or, more so he didn't want to hear it.
"Godsdamnit.. Gale is a fool." He snipped, carefully maneuvering your body to fit against his own as he lifted you. You shivered against him, wincing at the movement and bitterness in his voice. "We'll find you something," he paused, pushing open your bedroom door and quickly setting you back into your silk sheet prison. You felt your heart shatter at his state. His skin seemed more transparent, his eyes a duller yet still brilliant red, and dark circles curled around his eyes as they seemed to be sunken in.
"What if there is nothing for me, my love," you sighed, caressing his cheek as he tsked, grabbing your hand and pressing gentle kisses to your tattered knuckles. "What if you're... Wasting our time?"
"Any time I have that is searching for something to help you," he paused, pressing a kiss to your wrist. "Is." Anther kiss to your shoulder. "Never." Another pressed to your neck, you shivered. "Wasted." He pressed his lips firmly against your own. Both of your lips chapped and scratchy, but he moved further into your bubble, pressing his body against your own. His hands slithered up your body, tugging you into his lap while his lips ventured down your throat. His fangs ghosted your flesh, barely leaving a mark in their wake.
You lurched away, your chest squeezed, and your lungs felt as if they were burning from the inside out. You turned away, attempting to cover your cough as Astarion laid you back against your pillow. Blood trickled past your cracked lips as he stared at you with wide eyes, reddened lips agape. "I'm, I'm sorry," you quivered over each shake, covering your mouth as more blood smeared across your chin and palm. He moved closer, ripping a piece of his shirt and pressed it against your lips, wiping away whatever blood spilled.
"Hush, just let it out, darling," His voice trailed as your coughing fit continued. More blood came and more clothes were ripped from his very back. Time had run out..
He left you to sleep, wandering outside into the crisp night air, feeling his lungs burn as he inhaled as deeply as he could. His chest tightened as his mind flickered back to your blood smeared across your lips. The gags and cries as you tried to stop, tried to swallow water to make the copper taste leave, but you said it reminded you of him. The smell and taste. Balling his fists, he moved through the forest behind your home. No clear direction in mind, just movement. Clear air. Dampened colors of the world. He stumbled as he came to a cliff. With a hiss, he stood at the edge, feeling the heightened breeze push past him as if trying to make him stumble and fall.
Fall.
Oh, he fell. He fell for you.
You were a rare gem in his eyes. Someone who could roll with the punches of life and still come out with a smile. Perhaps someone's blood smeared across your cheek, but he would happily wipe it away before pressing his lips to yours. You were his reason for freedom. Hells, you found him something to help keep his freedom amongst the world after 200 centuries of torture and forgetting who he was. But you gave him someone new. You showed him there was a way to a good life... A precious life. But now his reason is being ripped away from him. And he can't fight or kill this beast.
Astarion watched the horizon, his gaze twitching down to the two rings that cladded his fingers. His other hand moved towards it, trembling as he traced the golden bands. One glittered with rubies, a slight glow to the band itself. The other could be seen as just an ordinary ring, yet it held the most value to him. It was his promise to you. The shared rings between you. His gaze settled on the trees to his left. Moving towards it, he smiled softly as his fingers grazed the bark. Your initials carved jaggedly into it with his last name attached. Memories flooded his mind as tears washed over him once more, yet he couldn't fight back the smile gracing him. Turning around he noticed a rather large pair of rocks near the cliff, swallowing thickly he moved closer and grabbing them, plucking his dagger from its sleeve and began to carve.
Hours had passed. He found himself back in front of his - your - home. More memories danced around his mind as he walked inside, his hand grazed every surface it could reach as he moved up the stairs. His chest felt tight, yet he pressed on.
Opening the bedroom door, his gaze softened as it fell to you. Your chest barely pushed up the blankets as sweat matted your hair to your forehead. Your lips were a chapped pink, torn from your nervous chewing - possibly his fangs work as well. Your eyes fluttered as he settled onto the bed next to you, caressing your cheek as you blinked awake. "Finally coming to bed?" You tried to smile as he mirrored it, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your temple.
"I thought we could go somewhere first.. Remember our cliff?" His voice hushed as you sighed, gently nodding. "How could I forget the most magical place of my life?" He smiled again, brushing hair from your eyes. "I would say this was the most magical," he grinned as you scoffed, quickly turning away as you coughed shaking gently.
"I'll help you, my love," he rose from your shared bed. Carefully moving his arm underneath your knees and caressing your back, your body cradled against him. The movements felt like that of a mother rocking her newborn child as he descended down your stairs, still holding you close as you sighed into his ripped and stained shirt. "You... You should wash this, my star," you murmured, feeling the scratch of your old blood stain as he tsked.
"I'll be alright, darling, you just rest..." His voice seemed softer than usual. Lucid even. You heard a door open and shut as the world around you chirped and sang with birds and insects songs. The breeze chilled your skin as you gently shook against Astarion's chest, goosebumps lining your flesh. "We're almost there, my sweet, just a bit longer, please." You nodded against his chest, sighing softly.
All movement stopped as your body met the dirt and grass, Astarion following as you leaned into the curve of his body. You smiled, moving your head to where you could see your vampiric lover. He seemed... At peace. Whole. You caressed his cheek with your trembling hand, your thumb dragging across his skin. His lips caught your thumb, pressing a soft kiss to it.
"Thank you for bringing me here." You whispered, afraid to disturb the gentleness surrounding you.
"Thank you for being with me." He whispered back, catching your lips in an almost blistering kiss. You inhaled, feeling your chest tighten and your eyes began to flutter, yet your lips still danced along with his own. Seemingly chasing his, begging for more time..
He felt his lips quiver as you slumped into his arms. Your mouth falling away from his own while your head rolled into the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Tears stained his cheeks as he held you close, shaking with gasping sobs.
You were gone. Just... Gone.
Licking his lips, he gently stood, taking your limp figure with him before moving towards the hole he had made before.. He knew your time was over when he saw the blood. The thing he once thrived to take from you, now all he could wish for was for it to return to you. Carefully placing your body into the earth, sinking to his knees as he pushed and shoved dirt over your body; more tears blurred his vision as he pushed forward, wanting to dive in after you. Once his hands were dusted in the dirt that now held your body, he glanced to the stone he had carved earlier, Y/N Ancunín. Reaching over, he plucked one of the few wildflowers and laid it on top, releasing a shaking breath.
Astarion blinked once, twice before swallowing thickly. Early sunlight peaked over the horizon now, awakening the world around him and yet... All he wanted was to rest. To sleep. Carefully standing, he moved around your grave, and pressed a kiss to your gravestone. Standing to his full height, he turned towards the cliff and watched as the sun rose over head. Feeling the warmth that caressed his cold skin, he huffed out a sigh as he walked backwards, settling into the spot next to your grave. Licking his lips, he glanced towards your sight once again as he smiled softly, closing his eyes and seeing your smiling face greeting him.
"Aeterna Amantes, my darling.. Lovers Forever. I will find you again," he paused, swallowing around his tongue as he reached towards his left hand, gently tugging off your wedding band and pushing it into the earth underneath him.
"After this life, and the next... I love you, my sweet love."
His voice fell into a sigh as he tugged off the last ring. The sunlight bit and bullied through his flesh, burning and peeling at it as he began to sparkle and crumble. His final thought of hugging you tight while pressing a firm yet loving kiss to your lips. Tugging you into his chest, while you laugh and smile into the kiss.
The sunlight ring glittering in front of your shared burial site. Your headstones he carved with a gentle caress, love, and kindness. You were lovers. Soulmates even. Beings that were crafted to fit one another and Astarion knew that... If he lost you, he would lose himself all over again. Besides... He promised you.
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bangchansgirlsblog · 1 month
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Heyyy, give me something angsty with Felix please🥰 like maybe she comes home really tired and he’s just mad about everything small and calls her clingy🙀 and they go to bed angry (really bad idea btw never do that‼️) and then in the morning she tries to avoid him bc she doesn’t want to seem clingy? Happy ending tho, I can’t take too much heartbreak🩵
By my side.
Warnings: Yelling and crying.
Paring: Felix x Reader.
This is my first Felix story and I messed it up lol. Anyways. Enjoy 🩷
**
Y/n slowly removed her shoes at the door trying not to make a sound. Her body was aching and she was extremely exhausted. She moved like a sloth as she put away everything; her coat, her bag, etc.
When she heard the sound of banging dishes she knew her boyfriend, Felix, was home from his schedules.
Never in her life did she ever think she would be so irritated by his presence. She thought she would come home to a quiet house, she really wanted to be alone since work was so tiring.
"Oh! Hey my love," Felix face lit up when he saw his girlfriend walk through the living room. He quickly hurried around the counter to give her a kiss in which she returned.
"Heyy," she said trying to be as energetic as him but completely failed. Her chest was tight and all she wanted to do was cry.
"What's the matter?" He frowned when he noticed her little pout, "how was work?"
His hands automatically land on her waist trying to sooth the not's on her back. He cringed at how stiff she was and automatically knew she wasn't in a good mood.
"Can I have some alone time babe," she shrugged his hands off and started to make her way to their room.
"Did something happen?" Felix frowned as he quickly followed behind. She let out a frustrated sigh seeing he was still going on. He heard the sigh and was a little hurt by it but decided to push it to the side and make sure she was okay. That was what mattered right now.
"Nothing, I just want to be alone Lix-"
"I made us brownies! We can eat it with ice cream and chocolate-"
"Felix! For the love of God I said it's enough! Leave me alone. You're being clingy." She screamed and slammed the bathroom door in his face. He quickly took a step back in disbelief. He was hurt and it was so obvious.
His heart ached. He didn't know what to do but stand there hearing her soft sobs. Should he say something? Should he wait outside? Should he leave?
He was overthinking it. His hands were shaking and tears filled his eyes. She never yelled at him. Never did she even try to tell him off. This was all new to him. Was she getting tired of him? He thought.
Meanwhile on the other side, Y/n's tears were streaming down her face. She felt disgusted and guilty. Felix didn't deserve any of that. She knew it, he was just trying to help.
How could she let a miserable day at work affect her home life? Her relationship? Her thoughts became foggy as she sat there. All she could do was cry and so she cried until she finally fell asleep on the cold, hard tiles.
**
The frantic knocks on the door were what woke her up. Her head was banging and she was freezing. She looked over at her phone and saw it had been an hour and a few minutes. All she could hear was Felix's voice in distress calling out for her.
He sounded weak, worried and tired. What had she done? She quickly got off the floor and opened the door to see what was going on.
When the door opened Felix pulled her into his arms. He was so scared that she might have passed out or did something to herself since she had been locked in for an hour.
"Are you okay my love? Don't ever do that again to me! I was so scared something might have happened," he told her off but still managed to keep her in his arms.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you," she whispered, "I know you were just looking out for me and you were worried. I love you babe," she tightened her grip around his waist as she hid her tears.
"Hey, look at me," he slowly put his finger under her chin. "We all have bad days, I know you didn't mean any of it. Okay?" She nodded, "stop crying my love, you need to talk to me and don't shut me out. Please?"
"I don't know what I would do without you," she whimpered.
"Well first off, you wouldn't be able to reach the top shelves..." he trailed off and smiled at her little laugh. He loved her laugh. Her laugh made him feel warm and happy. All he wanted was for her to be happy.
"You're so silly-"
"Yeah but you love it," he pecked her lips and helped wipe her tears, "should we go cuddle and eat the brownies now?"
"Yes please, I was actually craving them when I was in there,"
"My poor baby, go lay down and I'll be back in a bit," he let go of her and made his way to the kitchen where he got busy.
Y/n sat in their cozy bed trying to figure out how she would explain to Felix what was going on and she knew he was not going to let it go unless she told him and so she did.
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Compromise: cbf!soap x f!reader
Despite what you said you spent every moment of your free time waiting for Johnny.
It was subconscious at first. You constantly looked at your phone for any missing texts or phone calls, or a voicemail. Eventually you found yourself waiting for him to reach out.
The months went by and there was nothing.
You went to class and studied with your mind on Johnny. You had no clue how basic training worked, if he had any free time or if he decided to completely cut you off. You couldn't blame him but you never thought it that much because it made you feel awful.
Ever since he left you had felt incredibly numb. You weren't sure if that was worse than feeling miserable all the time, though you did know if you didn't keep yourself busy you'd probably either be crying too much or would just be frozen.
By the end of October you were used to it. This was going to be the way your life would be until the heartbreak wore off, until his absence was only mildly upsetting.
You sat on your bed in your dorm one evening and your phone rang.
You hesitated to pick it up for only a second before you saw that it was him, it was Johnny.
"Johnny?" You asked immediately, your vision blurring and your throat tightening.
"You picked up...!" He sounded surprised and relieved.
A few tears fell at the sound of his voice but you felt relief, happiness and sadness all at the same time.
"Yeah, um, how is it? How are you?" You asked him as you wiped away the tears.
"It's good, I'm good." He was vague but you didn't really care. "Better now that I'm talking to you."
"Me too."
You both went silent but it was comforting knowing that he was on the other end of the phone. You wondered what this meant, if maybe he was coming home.
"What's going on?" You wondered hopefully. "Are you finished...?"
"Yeah, basic training is over but I'll be going to advanced training tomorrow." He explained and you frowned.
You shouldn't have gotten so hopeful.
"Oh...how long is that going to be?" You asked and tried to hide your disappointment.
"Depends. It might be until the end of April." He said and you sighed.
That was seven months from now. And there was no telling that he'd even come home after that. He might have to go to another training he might start work.
You both we're already nineteen by now too (having missed each other's birthdays since he was gone). Would he be twenty before he came home? Would he come home at all?
"But I'll have a lot more time to call..." He trailed off and you perked up. "If that's something-"
"You had better call me when you can!" You exclaimed and he barked out a laugh.
"I will, I promise."
It was like the seeing the sun again after constant rain. You stayed on the phone with him for hours catching up with him the best either of you could. Just being able to hear him, to know that he was going to call you again was enough to have you feeling better than you had in months.
It was well into the night when you started falling asleep. You had classes in the morning and you didn’t care but the day was catching up to you.
“I should go.” Johnny said and you huffed.
“Don’t want you to.” You mumbled and he sighed.
“I’ll try to call you tomorrow.”
You hid your face in your pillow trying to your hardest to not get upset. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to possibly never hear him again.
You just wanted him with you again.
“I miss you.” You whispered.
“I miss you too.” He said back softly.
Neither of you were willing to end the call for a couple minutes. You knew both of you needed to go to bed but you just couldn’t.
“Goodnight, bonnie.” He said and you sniffled.
“Goodnight, Johnny. I love you.”
Silence.
“I love you too.”
Johnny ended the call and you stared into your dark room for a couple minutes.
You hoped he would call again tomorrow.
A/n: see alls great! *pushes upcoming angst away* promise
Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie @hayleybarnesx @tiredmetalenthusiast @misshoneypaper @sodavrr @ghostslittlegf
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babyleostuff · 7 months
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the grudge | jeon wonwoo
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based on "the grudge" by Olivia Rodrigo (would highly recommend listening to it while reading)
genre | angst word count | 2.1k
author's note | i'm in love with GUTS (but she also broke my heart with this album) -> PART 2
I have nightmares each week 'bout that Friday in May One phone call from you and my entire world was changed Trust that you betrayed, confusion that still lingers Took everything I loved and crushed it in between your fingers
“I’m sorry. It wouldn’t have worked out either way.”
These were the last words you heard from the love of your life. 
Over the phone. 
You were supposed to have a date that day. He just came home from his schedules overseas, and you couldn’t wait to see him again. To hug him. To kiss him.  
It was a perfectly sunny day, kids were running freely around their neighbourhoods, happy about the upcoming weekend, and you were just as happy as them, getting ready with a childlike smile, probably putting too much effort in your appearance - you even put on the dress he bought you for your birthday, just to see his pleased smile. 
The picnic basket you prepared stood ready at your kitchen counter, filled with Wonwoo’s favourtie snacks and the wine you’d always drink on your stay-at-home nights. You were in the middle of rummaging through your room to find a blanket, when you heard a familiar noise of your ringing phone. 
With a grin on your face and a beating heart, you almost ran to the kitchen, hoping to see Wonwoo’s picture on the screen. And you did. 
What you didn’t know was that that phone call would crush your entire world in seconds. 
“Hey, baby. Are you ready? I can pick you up if you want,” One could tell how happy and excited you were by your voice only. 
“About that,” you never heard his voice being so monotone and… cold. 
Something was wrong, and you couldn’t help the way your hands started to tremble in anticipation of what was about to happen. 
It took exactly two minutes for Wonwoo to turn your happy day to one of the worst in your life. The confusion as the line went silent clouded your mind, your brain simply didn’t want to let you believe in what you’d just heard. 
It was a joke, right? He’d call you in a second to laugh about how he lost a bet to Mingyu, and that it was just an unfunny joke. Right? 
But as you stood there, in the middle of your kitchen, with your phone tightly clutched in your hand, there were no calls, no messages. Nothing. 
Your gaze lingered on the basket, and now, when you looked at it, it almost mocked you - seemingly laughing at how pathetic you were. 
Just like that, Wonwoo took everything you loved and crushed it in between his fingers. 
And I try to be tough, but I wanna scream How could anybody do the things you did so easily?
The next few days felt like you were living in a daze. You’d wake up and the first thing you’d do was to reach to the other side of the bed, expecting a familiar body laying there, which you’d cuddle up to - like you did every morning. 
“Wonwoo, I’m cold,” you muttered, your mind still asleep. But as you touched the pillow placed next to you, the bubble popped and you were brought back to reality. 
The reality where Wonwoo wasn’t by your side. 
“Five more minutes baby,” those were the words you’d never hear again. That’s when the silent tears would start to fall, dropping onto the empty cold pillow, and the thought of why? Why did he leave? 
Every morning you’d spend on thinking how the hell did all of this happen? When did he become so unhappy to break up with you over a single phone call? Was he that miserable? 
But the more you tried to find an answer the more unclear it all became to you, was it really that easy for him to end things with you? And it all made you want to scream - scream out of pain, out of frustration, out of the powerlessness you felt. 
You tried to go about your day as usual because maybe finding a routine in your new reality would help you heal your broken heart, but with every step you took, your mind reminded you that the one thing you looked forward to the most was gone. When you thought you’d finally taken one step forward, your thoughts brought you three steps back. 
“Here baby, let me,” you laughed, taking the wooden spoon from Wonwoo before he’d burn the eggs completely. “I think I should stick to making breakfast, and you to giving me my reward kisses,” grinning at him as you took his place at the stove. 
“Yeah, I think that would be the best,” he smiled, placing a peck on your cheek, as his arms wrapped around your waist. 
Those mornings would never come back. 
The arguments that I've won against you in my head In the shower, in the car, and in the mirror before bed Yeah, I'm so tough when I'm alone, and I make you feel so guilty
“Would you stop acting like a child and tell me what’s wrong?” You can’t remember a time where you’d raise your voice at your boyfriend, but lately it felt like this was the only thing you were doing. Fighting. 
“You know I’m not the only one in the wrong here, so don’t act like a saint,” Wonwoo threw back, acting as annoyed as you. The situation was getting out of hand, but neither of you did anything to stop it, if anything, you only added more fuel to the fire. 
“I’m trying my best, Wonwoo. I never complain when you leave for tours or schedules, or when you come home at night, when you don’t even have the energy to say good night.” 
“You know that that’s not the only issue here, baby,” the endearment felt like poison coming out of his mouth like that. It hurt you more than anything else. 
“It’s not, but it seems like I’m the only one trying here. Do you really want to act like a dick and let our whole relationship go to waste just because you can’t get your shit together?”
That was probably how things would have gone if you had the chance to talk to him. But you didn’t. Wonwoo didn’t try to contact you again, not even through a message or a friend. 
“What did you expect though?” You thought to yourself. He broke up with you over the fucking phone, something you’d never expect to happen with him. 
You’d spend endless nights in the shower picturing how you would have screamed at him, finally letting out how hard it was for you too - how hard it was to fall asleep in a cold bed, how painful was it to see him only over the phone, how all of the unread text messages because he was too busy to read them broke your heart - you’d do all of that just to make him feel guilty, even a little bit. 
You felt like you could do anything under the hot steam of water, but the second you entered your bedroom all of your toughness faded away, and you were left alone in the room that held so many, now painful, memories. 
I try to be tough, I try to be mean But even after all this, you're still everything to me And I know you don't care, I guess that that's fine
It would be a lie to say you didn’t miss him. Every ounce of your soul and body craved for his touch, begged for a second of time to see even a small bit of his perfect face, crying out to be held by his strong arms. 
And it didn’t help that everything at home reminded you of him, bringing back the beautifully painful memories of all of the times you’d spend together. 
All of his clothes that he never came back for were still in your closet - the hoodies that would keep you warm on cold December nights, when you’d cuddle under a blanket together to watch a movie, his favourite snacks in your cabinet, that he’d always munch on while gaming, the books on your nightstand, which he would read to you on sleepless nights, his gentle voice unburdening you from all of your worries. 
But you couldn’t bring yourself to throw those stuff away. No matter how much looking at them hurt, you knew the second you’d throw them away you would break only more. 
You used to get so annoyed by the music that played in the background, as Wonwoo played Animal Crossing, staring at the small screen for hours, doing anything but focusing on you. Now you missed the goddamn sound, and you'd kill to have him next to you on your bed occupied by the cute animation of the game. 
You started to regret all of the times when you tried to persuade him to turn it off and do something with you instead, because yes, he didn’t pay direct attention to you, but he always had an arm thrown over your shoulder or one of his hands on your thigh, and he looked so adorable whenever he’d laugh. 
How pathetic would you be if you bought the game for yourself now? 
You realised that a lot of things that used to annoy you, you were missing now. Like his glasses that would always magically disappear. Wonwoo always forgot where he last placed them, and for some reason you’d always know where they were.
“What would you do without me, hm?” you laughed at his scrunched nose, as you placed his missing glasses on his nose, kissing it lightly. 
“I don’t know. Good thing I’ll have you forever then.” 
This felt like a dream now, like a distant memory that would never come back. 
Because it wouldn’t. 
As you sat down on the sofa under the blanket you used to share, you hesitantly, with a shaky finger clicked on the gallery app, opening another memory lane you weren’t sure you wanted to go down through.
As you scrolled through the album you made specifically for Wonwoo, past all of those months together, you couldn’t help but let out a broken cry. All of your dates, trips, family gatherings, parties - they were all there frozen in the photos, and every single one of them felt like an ice cold dagger to your heart, piercing it with a pain you’d never be able to describe. 
You looked so happy. Wonwoo looked so happy. 
You stopped at a picture that you could clearly remember taking. It was right after he came back from the States and you had one of your first dates after a while of being apart. 
Almost like that Friday in May when he left you. 
You decided to stay at home, to let him rest and get used to the time change, so you chose to play some video games that you always sucked at, but played nonetheless, because you knew how happy they made Wonwoo. You lost for the hundredth time and you couldn’t help but let out a whine out of frustration. 
“Are you happy? I lost again, this sucks!” you whined, throwing the controller on the table, before burying yourself in the blanket. 
“You almost had it baby, I promise you’ll win the next round,” he laughed, and reached for you under the blankets, caressing your back. 
“Mhm, sure,” you murmured angrily. You knew Wonwoo was smiling, and you were sure he was amused by your sulky behaviour, but that always meant one thing. 
“Will you feel better if I give you some kisses?” he asked, and giggled at the way your head immediately peaked up from under the blanket. “Yes, that will work, thank you very much.” 
But instead of leaning in as you anticipated, he lunged his body at you, caging you in a tight embrace of his strong arms and wide shoulders. At this point you both were a laughing mess, so you quickly reached for your phone and opened the camera. 
You stared at the photo now, with tears in your eyes and an empty heart. The way you were both smiling, so genuinely happy, made your heart clench with pain. His dark hair, that grew out enough to curl a bit at the ends, his glasses that slid down his nose, and his smile that you could stare at for days. 
You’ve lost all of it. 
It takes strength to forgive, but I'm not quite sure I'm there yet
You were sure that some day, in a distant future, you’d be able to forgive him, to look him straight in the eye and say “it’s okay, I forgive you.” and move on with a smile on your face. 
But you were not there yet. 
taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin
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pedroshotwifey · 4 months
Text
To the Flame Chapter 1
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Series masterlist
Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader
Word count: 2.5k
Chapter tags/warnings: not much yet, age gap, fluff, reader being horny (c'mon y'all it's me what do you expect), Javier being gorgeous, erotic novels honorable mention, mentions of cheating, stuff I'm probably forgetting
Chapter summary: You meet a beautiful stranger at the farmer's market. Is he what you need to get back on your feet?
A/N: Hey, y'all!! I'm so very excited about starting this series! I have so many plans, and I can't wait to share them with you! Please keep in mind that this story will get darker the more it progresses. Thank you for reading!
***
You’ve been back in your hometown for about three months now. Three miserable and exhausting months. 
You’ve been working on the family farm four days a week, ten hours a day, every week since you got back. You figure it wouldn’t be so bad if you got to have the other three days off, but no. Those days are spent at the local farmer’s market, sitting in a stiff plastic chair in the sticky Texan heat. 
It doesn’t even matter that you wear a tank top and shorts to the market, you feel like you’re going to melt every damn time you have to go. The same goes for working on the farm, only you’re less fortunate in that situation. You know it’s smarter to wear jeans out there, so most of the time you do.
You’re trying to be grateful to your parents, you really are. They just make it so damn hard sometimes. Sure, they gave you a job when you needed one, but they never stop talking about how they were right. And they were, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. 
Your mom and dad never approved of your boyfriend, and had told you as much. You chose to ignore that fact considering they said that about every boyfriend you ever had. How the hell were you supposed to know if they were actually concerned, or if they just didn’t want you to date?
They had warned you about him. Told you that he wasn’t genuine, that you need to be careful. They told you the same about your so-called “best friend”, who was the person you found your boyfriend balls deep inside of three months ago.
But, of course, despite their protest, you had moved out with him anyway. Spent your savings on renting an apartment that he put practically nothing into. In retrospect, you really should have known; there were so many signs. You were just too damn stubborn to see them. You never would have guessed that he would go as far as to cheat on you.
Your own poor choices are what ultimately landed you back here, getting out of your dad’s old truck to unload a creaky table to set up the stand at the farmer’s market. Again. You roll your eyes and pop your earbuds in, putting on your favorite playlist. 
You open the back of the truck and start to drag the plastic table out. It slides across the bed effortlessly thanks to the morning dew it’s been sitting out in. Unfortunately, that detail is another pain in the ass more than anything, because you end up getting half-soaked as you haul it into the giant tent that makes up the market.
You get it set up in an empty booth, smacking the rusted hinges to get it to stand without risk of collapse. After you lean on it to make sure it won’t fall, you return to the truck to start the endless trips of carrying produce to the stand. You usually make your younger sister help you with this part since she often tags along, but, being a senior in highschool, she couldn’t make it today. 
Once you have everything put together and displayed on various shelves, you take a seat in the foldable chair you had brought with you. You expect it will be a slow day, as Mondays usually are, so you brought a book to pass the time. 
You rarely sell anything on weekdays, you have no idea why your parents are so adamant about you coming all the way out here every monday since you got here. Maybe it’s just to get you out of the house—you wouldn’t put it past them.
You take one more look around the market to make sure there’s nobody approaching your stand before you open your book to the first page. It’s a newer, trashy romance. It’s a little embarrassing, sure, but you like what you like. 
Sometimes you swear your love life is awful or boring enough for you to actually wish to be in the place of the girls in your books. At least the fictional men seem genuine. Less likely to cheat on you with your best friend, you think bitterly. 
Less likely to manipulate into moving into an expensive apartment without helping, Less likely to treat you like shit. Plus, you probably wouldn’t mind the fact that they all seem to be absolute hunks and amazing in bed.
The sound of someone clearing their throat startles you from your spiraling thoughts, your cheeks reddening once you realize you have been staring blankly at the same page for a good few minutes. 
You have to steady yourself so you don’t drop your book on the dirt below you, which has you almost falling out of your chair in the process. 
You glance up at the stranger as you situate yourself, which doesn’t do much to help. The man is drop-dead fucking gorgeous. He’s staring down at you, clearly amused. His full lips are tugged up into a half-smirk. You think for a second that he looks familiar, but you would for sure remember seeing a man like this.
His hair is dark, a bit long and shaggy, but in the way that makes you want to run your fingers through it. He wears sunglasses, you notice with disappointment. You don’t know why you have such a strong urge to see what’s hidden under there. You’re guessing they’re brown. He seems to carry a kind aura, it’s a fitting idea that his eyes would be warm.
Even though you sense such a kindness emanating from him, there’s an annoying nagging from the back of your head that makes you uneasy. His stare is almost imposing, the way he carries himself adding so much to the effect. Your stomach bunches up in a frustrating way that signifies both anxiety and lust. You don’t really care much to figure out which is dominant at the moment. 
All you know is that you’re drawn to this man like a moth to a flame, and that after all you’ve been through, you deserve to admire him at the very least. It’s not often you come across such a good looking man. A fictional looking man. 
He cocks his head after you stare for what could probably be considered a second too long. Your face must be about the shade of a tomato at this point. The weight of an object in your hand quickly reminds you of the task at hand. 
This is a potential customer. You need to stop staring like a schoolgirl. Besides, he must be what… ten, fifteen years older than you? God, you can’t even tell. He looks mature, but somehow ageless at the same time. He has strong, masculine features, but a sort of boyish quality, too. If someone told you he was some kind of a god himself, you would have no trouble believing them.
“I-I’m so sorry, let me just put this down,” you say to the god, trying not to stumble over your own words after getting caught ogling. 
“No problem at all, sweetheart,” he says, clearly unbothered. Fuck, his voice. It’s deep and rich, and he has some sort of accent,  like he grew up speaking another language. Spanish? Probably spanish. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Down, girl.
You take a breath in through your nose, willing yourself to relax as you set your book down on the table in front of you. You resist the urge to shut your eyes out of embarrassment as he looks down at the erotic cover, and then back at you with an arched brow and an amused smile. You move quickly as you snatch the book back to flip it back-side-up.
“What can I get for you, sir?” you quietly attempt to move on from that interaction, trying to reign in some of your composure. He’s standing with one hand on his hip, which is jutted out just slightly. He licks his plush lips and stands up mostly straight before he speaks. He pulls a piece of paper out of his snug back pocket and starts to read off of it. 
Your face keeps a nice flush as he reads off of his list. Your core throbs every now and again as he talks, making it a bit hard for you to concentrate, but you’re pretty sure you got everything. 
You nod at him to let him know as much before you get up to collect everything. Who knows if your voice even works right now. You do your best to ignore the weight of his stare on your back as you move around.
“Haven’t seen you around before,” he says, obviously wanting to start a conversation. “You been here long?”
“No, not really,” you say, trying to level your voice as you place produce into bags. “Well, kind of. I grew up here but I moved away a few years ago. Only been back for a couple months now. I’m staying to help my parents for a bit before I can get back onto my feet,” you finish as you secure the last bag. 
You look up as you place the goods on the table, this time meeting the man’s uncovered eyes. Brown and expressive, just as you imagined. You smile absentmindedly, and he mirrors your action, making your stomach twist once again. What a fucking smile. 
“Well, welcome back, then,” he says. “I’m Javier. Prefer it if you would call me Javi, though.” 
“Javi it is,” you say, liking the feel of his name on your tongue. You tell him your name and he nods. 
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” 
Fuck this man, he has to know what he’s doing. 
“Thank you,” you say, trying to control the pitch of your voice. 
He watches you as you place his bags on the table in front of you, now full of his requested items. As you catch his gaze, everything around you seems to fade to black. No sounds, no movement. All you can focus on is the sudden electric current that is born between the two of you. 
A nervous flutter starts in your stomach, but you just can’t bring yourself to look away, as if the attraction would be broken and gone forever if you did. The two of you hold eye contact for what could be a minute or ten before someone walks past your stand, drawing your attention back to reality.
You both let out a breath you’ve been holding, yours probably more shaky than his. You shake your head and start to add up his total after wiping your sweaty palms on your shorts. He stands back on his heels, his hands shoved into his pockets as he watches you work.
It only takes a moment. You tell him his total and he slides his wallet out, handing you the exact cash. You both thank each other at the same time, making you giggle. He smiles wider at the sound. 
“You’ve got a nice laugh, sweetheart,” he complements warmly. 
“Thank you. I made it myself,” you joke. Javi chuckles to himself, almost like he’s surprised to hear you make a joke. “Sorry,” you say, laughter in your own voice. “That was kind of lame.” 
“No, that was pretty clever, actually,” he says through his smile. 
You let yourself get one more good look as you reciprocate the gesture, fully expecting him to part ways. He doesn’t though, instead he asks you the one question you had hoped that nobody would ask you. 
“What brought you back here?” 
Your smile drops slightly and you consider lying to him, telling him that your parents wanted your help and that’s all. You know you can’t, though. There’s no point in trying to hide the truth. Nothing stays hidden in this small town. 
So you don’t. You sum up every stupid, unfair thing that made you return home. There’s a flash of sympathy in his gaze that makes you want to shut up, but some sick part of you craves that sympathy at the same time. 
It only takes you a couple minutes to have everything out, but he stays quiet and patient the entire time. Never interrupting you once and nodding along at all the right parts to let you know he’s listening. 
You haven’t felt this seen in a long time, It feels good. It makes you want to wrap yourself up in this total stranger’s arms and beg him to hold you. Fuck, now you’re picturing that. You need to not picture that. Luckily you don’t have much of a chance to, because he’s responding to you only a few seconds after you finish. 
“Well, that’s a damn shame. Fuckin’ boys don’t even know how to treat a sweet girl anymore.” Javi says, making you blush once again. 
The attention he gives you feels the same as jumping into a cool pool after being in the sun all day. It’s unbelievably refreshing to hear something like that instead of the usual scolding and ‘I told you so’s.  
He seems to put thought into what comes out of his mouth, and it genuinely makes you feel like he cares. Like he wants to make sure you hear what you deserve to hear.
“What makes you so sure I’m sweet?” you ask playfully, trying to change the topic to ignore the craving for more kind words. Might as well flirt a little while you’re at it, you figure. What can it hurt?
“Just a hunch,” he says, his tone the same as yours as his smile crinkled eyes bore into yours. You nod a little, your adoring smile never wavering.
 You both notice the small line of people beginning to form behind Javi at the same time. He almost looks disappointed at the sight, like he doesn’t want to leave just yet. 
“Just one second, honey,” he says, digging the scrap of paper from before out of his pocket again. Once he has that laid against the table in front of him, he supplies a pen from the front pocket of his shirt. He uses it to scribble something down onto the paper. 
You crane your neck slightly to try to catch a peak, but you can’t tell with how fast he’s writing. When he’s done, he folds it once, slides it your way, and gives a singular nod. 
“See you around, sweetheart,” he says as he starts to leave. 
“Yeah. See you,” you mumble under your breath as you watch him stride away, bags of produce in hand.
A woman walks up to the table, and you quickly turn to her. 
“So sorry about that. How can I help you?” you ask quickly, eyeing the paper Javi left behind.
It only takes you a little while to get everyone who was in line checked out, but it feels like it could have been hours. As soon as the last customer starts to walk away, your hands are on the note, shakily unfolding it to reveal Javi’s (suitably) scratchy handwriting. 
You see what you can only assume to be his phone number, and above it, there’s a note. 
“I would love to see you again, sweet girl. Give me a call?” 
Your heart flutters as you bite your lip and read the note over again. There’s no way you’re not taking up that offer. 
***
Thank you so much for reading!! I would absolutely love any kind of feedback so I know where everyone's at on this!! I have a tag list open for this series if anybody would like to join <3
Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @survivingandenduring @kewwrites (pls lmk if these tags worked!)
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caramelberzatto · 7 months
Note
Ooooohhhh could you maybe do Carmy jerking off and reader walking in? He’s embarrassed but she’s like yessss this is 🔥 🔥 🔥 and wants to watch? Thank you!
PLEASE- okay so i'm literally at work right now, on my day off, because i had shit-all else to do and my only friends are here. SO anyway, moving on, long story short, i'm getting some lunch and churning out some writing. i changed it a teensy bit because i wanted to write some needy carmy so bad heheheheh. let's fucking go (nsfw below, minors dni)
okay so we all know carmy is busy, and when he isn't busy, he's probably stressing about something. (which is very relatable, love that for us.) ANYHOW, he finally has a moment to himself. it's late, he's freshly showered, and all he wants is to climb into bed with you and touch you the way he knows you like. but, as fate would have it, you're not home, and he's sighing to himself after the memory of you mentioning some birthday dinner for your friends boyfriend returns to him.
'fucks sake,' he mutters to himself as he drops onto the couch, letting his head fall back, teeth gritted in frustration. running a hand through his still-damp hair, he thinks about calling it a night and just going to sleep. but he wants to wait up for you. and he just... really fucking needs you.
he heads down the hall to his bedroom, leaving his shirt on the floor by the foot of the bed. it's gotten warmer, or it could just be because the thoughts currently occupying his mind are... heated. regardless, he tosses back the covers and leans back against the headboard, trying to focus on literally anything but how badly he's craving you.
but he's failing. miserably. especially because your underwear are still on the floor from where he'd tossed them that morning when he'd woken you up with his tongue. and the memory your fingers tangled in his hair is so visceral, he swears he can almost feel it.
and before he can even register what he's doing, his hand has slipped beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and wrapped around his cock, already hard and aching. the relief is immediate, and he lets out a long sigh, his other hand gripping the duvet as he starts to pump himself.
it doesn't feel as good as you, though. not even when he spits on his palm, squeezing lightly around the base and running his thumb over the head the way you always do. and it's making him more and more frustrated with every underwhelming stroke.
he's all worked up, breathless and pissed off, and doesn't hear the door open, nor the thud of your shoes as you kick them off. you dump your bag on the couch, heading down the hall, and you can hear his quick, shallow breaths seeping out of the bedroom door left ajar.
the door creaks on its hinges as you push it open, stepping into the dimly lit room. and carmen is a fucking mess. his curls are plastered over his forehead, his cheeks, neck, and chest are blooming red and flushed, and his gaze meets yours instantly. his sweatpants sit halfway down his thighs, and his cock is in his hand, and he just looks so... pathetic. and you love it.
'fuck, baby, hi,' he says, and you're already climbing on top of him, into his lap, taking his cock in your hand. and the sounds he makes go straight your chest. having him like this, so needy and whimpering and just out of his mind... it's hot.
normally, carmy would be taking in the sight of you, marvelling at the pretty little dress you're wearing, asking you how your night was, but he's so close to begging it's almost overwhelming.
and when you tuck your underwear to the side, not bothering to get undressed, and sink down on him, carmy lets out a choked sound that seems to be a mix of your name and a long, low 'fuck.'
it doesn't take long before he's spilling inside you, and he might've been embarrassed about it if he wasn't so relieved.
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yorshie · 5 months
Note
Hello! How are you? I hope you are doing well
Could you please do some Headcanons for tmnt (bayverse) x reader who has a huge problem with overheating? Like. Huge problem. Gets lightheaded, can’t sleep on “too warm” beds or places, Sometimes needs to lie on the cold ground or have ice packs on their face, legs, basically their whole self as an attempt of trying to cool down? And when they find out the boys skin is actually quite chilly they get more affectionate? Handsy? Of course w their consent, Legs get laced together, resting on their lap more often, both have crushes going on but reader is so bothered by how hot their skin is, all of the anxiety/bashfulness of approaching them is throw out of the window, and since winter is coming and the boys are coldblooded, a personal heater would be most welcomed (honestly a fair trade for everybody lol)
Hope that makes sense? (Honestly today is really bothering me cuz I’ve already used 3 ice packs and nothing is working 😭 i feel my face and legs are on fire and it’s so bothersome. I need some reassurance from some chilly boys fr) thank you and have a good day
Hello! I'm doing good, I hope you are doing better! I've been thinking about this ask for quite a bit, because I couldn't decide how exactly I was going to handle the turtles body heat, but I was totally enamored of imagining them being slightly cooler to reader's body heat, even though they do produce their own. Endothermic vs Ectothermic arguments went round and round, til I finally decided I was thinking about it waaaaayyyyy too deeply lol. So, thank you so much for sending this in, because it helped me Answer Some Questions for my personal writing lol. Going with the bayverse turtles run cooler than the average human body temp, but that they can withstand a range of temperatures because they still generate their own heat. So without further ado!
Bayverse turtles x GN reader, SFW - headcanons for nonspecific turtle
as always turtles are 24-25 in my writing
the first time he catches you lying on the floor in your home, surrounded by ziploc baggies of ice and an ice pack balanced on your nose, he almost snapped a picture at how goofy it looked. Then he noticed how red your skin was, how miserable you seemed, and he decided maybe it'd be better to check and see if you were ok
Upon finding out that, no, this was normal for you, that you were burning up despite how freezing cold your living room was, a small voice in the back of his head immediately reminded him that he ran COLD. He ignored it all through swapping your baggies out with fresh ice, of watching you roll to a new spot on the floor to find a new cool spot before his traitorous mouth opens up and he hears words that sound eerily like his own voice before he can reel the offer back in.
At first, you don't believe him. He's being sweet, sure, but the thought of touching or cuddling someone right now makes you want to commit murder. It takes him reaching out abruptly and placing his palm against your uncovered stomach for the fact to sink in that... oh my GOD HE"S COLD.
From that moment on, he is the designated cuddle buddy. In a pinch you'll make due with one of his brothers if you can convince them to stay still, but the first time he caught you draped over one of their shells you got the stink eye for three days straight, and when it came time for you to ask him once more to help you ended up being held more like a teddy bear.
Most of the time though, you sprawl across him on movie nights, cheek to his plastron, trying in vain to beat down blooming feelings when he rests his large, cool hands against your back and twines your legs together. Once or twice you're even embarrassed over it when it happens in front of his brothers, but at this point they just act like its normal. Just know, though, that your turtle has gotten ribbed over it privately, and there's a betting pool they've got going behind the two of yours' backs.
Come winter, you notice it's not just your turtle that's creeping in to cuddle now. With the weather turning, it seems the other three have realized that while they are a walking, talking ice pack for you, you are in fact a walking, talking furnace for them. Your turtle is definitely in the middle of the huddle, but don't be surprised to find yourself in the middle of a turtle pile anytime you come over. Don't worry, you're not the only human that gets wrangled into this. One time you got yoinked into the pile trying to coax your turtle out for some one on one cuddles and you found both Casey and April in the middle of the pile, both slightly squashed and unhappy about their turtle kidnapping.
All and all it's a revolving door of seeking each other out for heat and/or for cold, I'd give the betting pool a max of four months before it's being cashed out.
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dekuskeeper · 9 months
Note
Ahh ok, understood. Thank you for responding! In that case, may I request subby Izuku attempting to dom but failing miserably before he even gets the chance to try it? Maybe a little extra discipline to remind him why he shouldn’t try to get out of line again?
"What are you doing, baby?"
Your voice was flat and unimpressed, strained from trying to hold in your laughter as your boyfriend had managed to pin you down to his bed, your hands on either side of you.
"I-I didn't give you permission to talk!" He says, attempting for his voice to end in a growl but instead letting out something more akin to a whine.
At this, you let out a choked cough, poorly disguising a laugh. It was your fault, really. You'd teased him all day- a leg touch here, a neck kiss there, a squeeze of his ass somewhere in between. It was just so fun to see his reactions, dammit!
Still, you were the one that pushed him over the edge, so you supposed you should let him get even, even if it was just for a moment.
"I-I'm being serious!"
"I know, baby, I know. I'm sorry, I won't step out of line again, okay?"
Despite your reassurance, he grips your wrist harder with his own trembling hands. "Y-you never take me seriously! It's not fa- aaaah!"
You'd cut him off by bringing your knee toward his bugle and lightly adding pressure by the second.
"Did I make my baby mad at me?" You ask, tilting your head and mocking a pout.
"Y-yes! I'm mad, I'm- aaaah! M'still mad!" Despite his protests, he still writhed at the delicious pressure against your knee, shyly humping against it despite what you knew was a war going on in his mind.
He lowers himself into a plank on top of you and pants softly, turning his reddened face from your own. "I-I didn't tell you to- hnnngh~ Th-that hurts, it hurtsss!" He moans in response to your continuous pressure on his bulge.
"Move back, then" you simply reply, lips against his ear. You had to admit, you were enjoying just laying there while he did all the work. "I won't stop you."
You can see his face contort and relax, conflicted between letting you have your way with him and just letting go. You can hear protests clump and die in his throat, being replaced by breathy whines and whimpers instead.
"Maybe you deserve the pain." You laugh, wiping the tears that fell from his eyes and onto your cheeks.
It was a sight to see, him planked above you, humping desperately against the pain your knee brought, and outright gasping and sobbing, all in an effort to get even.
You'd let him get away with misbehaving long enough.
"My turn~"
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