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#you cannot stop spring from coming
headspace-hotel · 4 months
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The knowledge of some common plants
Since many people don't know most of the plants around them, this is information on some plants that are commonly seen in many places throughout the world
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This is Lamium purpureum, also called Purple Deadnettle.
It's called deadnettle because it looks like a nettle but it doesn't sting you
This plant is a winter annual—it grows its leaves in the fall, lasts through the winter, and blooms and dies in the spring
Its pollen is reddish orange. If you see bees with their heads stained reddish orange, it is likely because they have visited Purple Deadnettle
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This is Trifolium repens, white clover
It is a legume (belongs to the bean family) and fixes nitrogen using symbiosis with bacteria that live in little nodules on its roots, fertilizing the soil
It is a good companion plant for the other members of a lawn or garden since it is tough, adaptable, and improves soil quality. According to my professor it used to be in lawn mixes, until chemical companies wanted to sell a new herbicide that would kill broadleaved plants and spare grass, and it was slandered as a weed :(
It is native only to Europe and Central Asia, but in the lawns they are doing more good than harm most places
Honeybees love to visit clover
Four-leaf clovers are said to be lucky
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This is Achillea millefolium, Common Yarrow
It has had a relationship with humans since Neanderthals were around, at least 60,000 years, since Neanderthals have been found buried with Yarrow
Its leaves have been used to stop bleeding throughout history, and its scientific name comes from how Achilles was said to have used Yarrow to stop the blood from the wounds of his soldiers. A leaf rolled into a ball has been used to stop nosebleeds
It is a native species all throughout Eurasia and North America
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This is Cichorium intybus, known as Chicory
The leaves look a lot like dandelion leaves, until in mid-spring when it begins growing a woody green stem straight up into the air
Like many other weeds, it has a symbiotic relationship with humans, existing in a mix of domesticated or partially domesticated and wild populations
It is native to Eurasia, but widespread in North America on roadsides and disturbed places, where it descended from cultivated plants
Its root contains large amounts of inulin, which is used as a sweetener and fiber supplement (if you look at the ingredients on the granola bars that have extra fiber, they usually are partly made of chicory root) and has also been used as a coffee substitute
A large variety of bees like to feed upon it
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This is Phytolacca americana, known as Pokeweed
It is easily identified by its huge leaves and its waxy, bright magenta stem
It can grow more than nine feet tall from a sprout in a single summer!
If you squish the berries, the juice inside is a shocking magenta that is so bright it almost burns your eyes. For this reason many Native American people used it for pink and purple dye.
It is a heavy metal hyperaccumulator, particularly good for removing cadmium from the soil
All parts of the plant are poisonous and will make you very sick if you eat them, however if the leaves are picked when very young and boiled 3 times, changing out the water each time, they can be eaten, and this is a traditional food in the rural American Southeast, but I don't want to chance it
British people have introduced it as a pretty, exotic ornamental plant. I think that is very funny considering that here it is a weed associated with places where poor people live, but maybe they're right and I need to look closer to see the beauty.
If you see magenta stains in bird poop it is because they ate pokeweed berries- birds can safely eat the berries whereas humans cannot
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This is Plantago lanceolata, Ribwort Plantain
It grows in heavily disturbed soils, in fact it is considered an indicator of agricultural activity. It is successful in the poorest, heaviest and most compacted soil.
The leaves, seeds, and flower heads are said to be edible but the leaves are really stringy unless they are very young. Of course, it is important to be careful when eating wild plants, and make sure you have identified the plant correctly and the soil is not contaminated
I have also heard the strings in the leaves can be extracted and used for textile purposes
and that's some common plants you might often see throughout the world
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peachesofteal · 3 months
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Simple Math / Part Ten
Simple Math masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 5.4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Masturbation, dirty (self) talk, brief daddy kink. This fic contains mature themes. Domestic violence. Grooming. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Nurse!reader. Kissing. Lots of dialogue. Bun considers making a friend. Penny is cute. Flirting. Touching. Comfort. Bun refers to herself as "heavy". Simon is Simon. POV switch. Dinner date.
“I’m Philip.”
The handsome brunette smiles, grabbing onto your hand. You blink, trying to understand, trying to make it make sense, when he prompts you with a teasing grin. “This is the part where you tell me your name, sweet thing.” 
Oh. You stumble over it, tongue tied into a million knots, sweat from the Texas sun beating down your back, sweat slicking your shirt to your skin. 
He’s still holding your hand, and you’re standing there with wide, doe eyes, shell shocked. 
He’s… so handsome. And older. Older, and handsome. Polished type, with good teeth and good hair. He looks like he just stepped off the golf course. 
Why is he talking to you? 
He glances down at your drink. 
“You even old enough to be drinkin’ that?” 
“I-“ You’re terrible at lying, and like he can read it on your face, he chuckles. 
“You live around here?” 
“I go to Rice.” 
“A bit young for college, aren’t you?” 
“I just turned eighteen!” You’ve heard it a million times. You’re too young to understand something, or know something, or do something. You don’t get the way the world works yet. You’re not an adult. 
He holds his hands up. “I’m sorry. I bet you’re one of the really smart girls that make all us men look like Neanderthals.” Your face heats. 
“N-no. I just… I graduated early. I’m not a know it all.” You defend yourself, desperate to create distance from the usual stereotype, the way most people see you. The way boys see you. 
Too smart. Face buried in a book. Awkward and stiff. Uncool. 
He traces you from head to toe, appreciative gaze grazing over the swell of your hips, the generous curve of your ass. “I didn’t think you were. Too mature for that, I bet.” He croons, and your knees go weak. 
“Y-yeah. A lot of people say I’m really mature.” 
Two things compete for your attention when you open your eyes.
One: there is a soft, lovely song playing downstairs, something spring-like and sweet, vibrant without being too loud.
Two: the house smells like pancakes.
You check your phone, shocked to see you’ve slept for yet another 12 hours. There’s a text from Nia, and a text from your boss.
>You have a lot of time accrued. Take as much as you need. 
That settles that, you guess.
There are also text messages in the group chat, one from Simon, and one from Johnny, coming in only a few minutes ago.
Simon: >Penny gets pancakes on Saturday mornings. They’ll be plenty, come down and eat when you’re ready. 
Johnny: >I’m missing all the good stuff. 
You stretch, cautiously, wiggling fingers and toes, spreading your limbs as far as you can without pushing it too much. You’re sore, uncomfortably so, and still exhausted, but if you stay in bed any longer, you’ll rot.
In the kitchen, Simon holds Penny and a mixing bowl, alternating hands to get a whisk through the batter while humming to his daughter on her hip.
You stop dead in your tracks.
He’s… he’s not wearing the mask. 
You stare at his face, his whole, naked face for the first time, taking in the broad jaw, every shiny white scar, and his (twice, if you had to guess) healed broken nose. He’s handsome, differently from Johnny but no less striking, and you can’t look away, stunned by his raw, depthless and rugged beauty. Penny’s leg has kicked up the hem of his shirt, exposing his midsection, and the flash of skin there feels like a scandal, something you shouldn’t be seeing but cannot get enough of. He looks nothing like you expected and yet… everything you hoped for.
“Morning.” Pen tucks her face into his chest shyly, peeking out from the corner of her eye, curious and cute. “Can you say good morning to bunny?” He bounces her a little, and she giggles.
"Bunny." She says quietly, and Simon laughs.
“That’s right. Good job.” After a second of silence, you try to ask him about the missing mask, but the question gets confused on your tongue, and what comes out instead is clumsy and stunted.
“Your mask.” You cringe, immediately. It’s the first thing that slips loose, insensitive, and uncouth. “I uh, I’m sorry, I’m just… surprised?” you falter, and makes it worse. You think about trying to run back upstairs, hightailing it for the hills when he smiles, and points to the empty stool at the kitchen counter with a batter covered whisk.
“Sit.” There’s already a stack piled high, plain, and ones with big, juicy blueberries. Your favorite. 
“So, pancakes every Saturday?”
“Mhmm.” He settles Penny in her highchair to your left, and pulls an already cooled pancake from the stack, cutting it up into little, tiny pieces with a child’s knife and fork. “Pen and her Da,” he pads some butter across the top of his handiwork, grabbing her sippy cup and filling it with milk. “Have pancakes every Saturday when he’s home. It’s their favorite. Right?” He points at her, “your favorite?” and taps his middle finger to his chin, others outward, straight up. “Your favorite?” Signing?
“Are you teaching her sign?”
“Trying to. Pen’s birth mum is deaf. It’s important to us, that she’s able to connect with her when the time comes. Plus, my hearing is shot. So is Johnny’s. It’s a great way for her to communicate with us.” He strokes some fingers through her curls, and she doesn’t even look up, too busy shoveling as much pancake into her mouth as she can. You have a million questions now, curiosities bubbling to the surface, about Pen’s mum, about her life, about how she came to be their child. All too rude, and too invasive to ask. “Or, to use when she’s feeling sassy and can’t find the words. That happens, too.”
“She’s what…sixteen months?” You watch her intently, unable to not smile when she cheeses at her dad with a mouthful of food, even though your tender skin stings with the movement.
“Yeah. Top percentiles in a lot of things for her age. Said her first word before she was one.” He’s rich with pride, a deep well of love shining in his eyes, and you force your own down to the plate, stifling the ache bleeding from your heart.
“Of course she is.” Penny holds pieces of sticky, syrupy pancake with both hands, attacking them with vigor, smearing her cheeks purple with the squished blueberries.
You need to eat something, but your brain is buzzing, unnatural discomfort stretching long in the back of your mind.
What’re you doing? Sitting here eating pancakes like everything is normal? Like everything’s okay? 
Everything is not okay. 
You drift, back to your apartment, back the venom of Phillip, the hands around your neck, the twist of your shoulder, back slamming into the wall. You can still feel him, still hear him, these memories like all the others, your body beaten on the floor, mind nearly broken. Trying to shift away from the hot end of a cigarette, screaming for help, running through a-
A hand covers yours.
He coaxes the fork from your fingers, metal vibrating within flesh.
“I think… I think I should go back to bed.” You whisper.
“Are you tired?”
“No… yeah. I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to run away, you know.” He flips a pancake onto your plate from the stack. “Just because you were somewhere else for a little bit.” Your cheeks burn. “We’ve got a pretty nice couch in the living room though, if you want some time alone and don’t feel too keen on the stairs.” Saturday morning pancakes and curling up on the couch? It sounds so nice, so normal, and must show on your face, because he chuckles. “Help yourself. You might have to share the TV though, in a bit. We watch baby Einstein on Saturdays, and she’ll need some entertaining for a minute while I get ready.” Your lips twist, an entire hearth lighting up in the bottom of your heart.
“Alright.”
Baby Einstein is as enthralling as you thought it would be, though Penny disagrees. She stares at the screen, wide eyed, open mouthed, sippy cup long forgotten, and even Simon struggles to get her attention after returning from getting dressed.
You force your eyes away from the strain of his thighs in blue jeans.
“We’re goin’ down to the hospital.” He tells you, pulling her upward over the back of the couch and rubbing his nose through her curls. It’s still… weird, to see his whole face. To clearly watch his expressions, sublime bliss pushing his mouth upward whenever he looks at his daughter. “Want to come?”
“I can’t, not if I’m taking time off. It… looks bad to admin. I can probably go in at night but, during the day is just a recipe for disaster.”
“Of course.” He looks around, for what you don’t know, shoulders tensing, then relaxing. “Well, you’ve got the remote. And my number. Are you… going to be, okay? Alone?”
Say yes. 
You can’t. All you can do… is nod.
“Okay well if you’re not. Just call.” You nod again, getting to your feet. Once you’re standing, you’re out of place, flailing in their living room, about to be here alone, with your memories, your poisoned mind.
What’re you doing? You’ve ruined everything. Broken all your rules. 
“We can stay.” Simon steps close, hand grazing the middle of your back, and you shake your head.
“No, no- I… I’m sorry.”
“You don’t-“
“Yes, I do.” Your voice shakes, and you slam your eyes shut. You can’t do this. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m putting you in danger, and I… I’m putting myself in danger and I’m being so- so stupid, Simon.” His gaze is heavy, serious, and he steps around you, sliding Penny into her bounce seat, turning it to face baby Einstein.
“Listen to me.”  As he returns, he reaches, carefully pulling you close, close enough you’re nearly in his chest, timing the rise and fall of his diaphragm. “We are safe, you are safe, sweetheart. ‘m not going to let anything happen to you, or Penny, or any of us. Alright?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Tell me.” You almost laugh, but something comes over you instead, something delirious and desperate. You lean into him, letting him hold you, hand smoothing over the back of your head. “You can tell me. You can trust us. We’ll take care of you.”
God, you want to. You want to so bad it aches, burns a ravenous fire in your heart. You want tell him, let them in. Tell them everything.
“Bun.” He murmurs, bringing you back, a finger under your chin.
“I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s… it’s too much.”
“It’s alright.” He soothes, but doesn’t pull away, and you’re drawn in like a magnet, rising to the balls of your feet, stuck in a trance, luring you closer.
He meets your halfway.
And then-
He’s kissing you, plush lips on yours, pancakes and fresh laundry and stained-glass windows of sanctuary on his tongue.
You’re standing in the sun, in the trance of another spell.
It’s a mouthful of butterscotch and maple. Sweet, delicious breakfast in bed, lazy Saturday mornings and whispered, tender words. It’s life unlike your own, a home, the promise of a love not fractioned, chipped away, or strangled… but multiplied, magnified. His touch is painfully gentle, slow and easy, encouraging you to follow his lead, carefully constructing a tiny universe to disappear to, where shadow cannot touch. A fantasy, cocoon of stars, ambrosial and sacrosanct, an escape from the hell nipping at your heels, the hell chasing you through your dreaming and waking hours. 
The anxious hum radiating through every cell in your body flatlines.
The girl in the mirror weeps.
Everything goes silent. Your breathing slows. Your hands fall to the side, listless and stunned.
Penny grunts. The moment shatters.
You can only stare with wide, terrified eyes.
“Johnny.” It’s the first word out of your mouth, the only thing you can conjure. “I’m sorry, I don’t know… I’m sorry.” Johnny. Johnny’s not here. How can he kiss you when his partner isn’t here? His heart will be broken, you’re destroying their family, you’re-
“I kissed you, bunny. Nothin’ to be sorry about.” Simon hums, still holding your face. “Johnny’s okay. He’ll be a bit jealous he didn’t get one too, but he won’t be upset.”
“How?” the question squeaks, and he takes your hand, tugging you towards the couch, settling you back into the cushions, easily guiding you with deft hands. He's so careful, so gentle, the touch of a man who raises a daughter, who loves his partner, adroit and nimble, anticipating movement before it happens. 
“After Penny goes down tonight, let’s have a drink. Or some late dinner. We can talk, and I’ll answer as many of your questions as I can. How’s that sound?” He strokes a thumb across the apple of your cheek. Talking can’t hurt, can it?
“O-okay. Yeah.” You try to shrug, pain lancing through your shoulder, and you try to smother your wince. He frowns.
“I want you to get some rest today.” A small grin creeps across your face.
“You always tell people what to do?” He nods, solemn.
“It’s my job. Takin’ care of you lot is an added bonus.” He breezes by the grouping of you with his family, like it’s a normal thing, rubbing circles in your palm. “Let’s get you comfortable.”
“I can-“
“I’m here. Let me help.” You don’t say anything at first. Can’t say anything, can’t formulate a response that encompasses everything you’re thinking and feeling, stuck on the mile high wall that is your fear and denial, afraid to jump. Afraid to fall.
He doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask you to respond, He just… settles you, cautiously arranging the pillows to support your injuries, lets you sit there atop the wall, staring down at the ground where they wait. Patiently. He rubs your back and your good shoulder until you’re drifting away in heady, hazy dream world, unable to stir when he slips free, tucking the blankets in around you, and pressing another long, lingering kiss to your brow.
You wake in a panic to the doorbell ringing. Your heart races, and you’re up off the couch, tucked around a corner of the hall, hiding, in a blink, even though your shoulder and neck scream at the sudden change of position.
Breathe. You’re losing it. Philip wouldn’t ring a doorbell. 
The door clicks open.
“Hello?” A woman’s voice echoes to where you’re still curled around the hallway, back pressed flat, eyes closed. “Hello? Anyone home?” Who is that? 
You peek, like a child. Peering around to see a familiar woman with grocery bags in her hands, depositing them on the kitchen counter.
She spots you immediately.
“Hi!” She’s grinning, pretty and bright, pulling a carton of milk from a brown paper bag and putting it in the fridge. “I’m Lou. Sorry, did I scare you? I tried to ‘announce’ myself.” She makes bunny ears with her fingers before and after the word announce, with half of an eye roll. “John’s always telling me I have to when I come over. Can’t be giving anyone surprises, and I knew you were here. Just wasn’t sure if you’d be up for visitors. Sorry if I gave you a fright.”
“No, I…” you trail off, readjusting, giving her your name. She nods and smiles again. “I remember you. In front of the elevator that day.”
“Yeah, that was me.” She’s earnest in her focus, beaming at you, almost like she’s excited.
“You look a little different out of your cute scrubs.” That gives you a small laugh, and you smile honestly at her, flattered.
“Thanks.”
“Sorry if I’m disturbing you.”
“Oh no, you’re not. I was just… I’m fine.” She pulls a flat of eggs free and stacks them next to a colorful pile of produce.
“I do the store runs for Simon right now. It’s too much, with Johnny in hospital and taking care of Pen. We’ve been trying to lighten his load.” Guilt twists. And here you are, adding onto it. 
“That’s very nice of you.” She waves it off.
“They’ve kept my husband alive a million times over. It’s the least I can do.”
“Right… they… work together?”
“Simon is semi-retired but yeah. They’re in a global task force. It’s the four of them. Have you met Kyle yet?”
“Oh, yeah. At the hospital one day.”
“Best guy, really.” Her clothes swish, warm and sweet aura practically glowing.
“Yeah, he was really nice.” She rests her hands on her hips and looks you over.
“You okay?” This woman is direct. She's got a no nonsense approach, and through intense, there's true ardor in her, passion and care. 
“Yeah, I’m just… still recovering.” You don’t know what she knows, not sure what they’ve told her or John, so you’re not sure how much, or what even, to say.
“Simon told us, about you being mugged. I’m so sorry, it’s just awful.” She’s sincere in her sympathy, big brown eyes sad and considerate.
“It’s okay, thank you. I’m okay.”
“If you need anything, I’m always around. Or if you want to talk to another girl that isn’t a toddler.” It’s an olive branch of friendship, you realize, or the beginnings of, and you’re startled, considering it, wondering if it would be so bad… to have a friend.
“Thank you.” She gives you her number, and you tap it in, shooting her a text with your name.
“You should sit.”
“I can help with these.”
“No, no. No offense, but you look half asleep. I’ve got it.” You laugh even though it hurts, awkward half shrug with good shoulder, and agree.
“Yeah, I’m still recovering. It’s been slow.”
“I’m sure.” You sit at the counter, watching her organize the fridge with scary efficiency. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. Just had to drop these off.”
“Oh, you’re fine.” It’s nice. You’re nice. She feels safe, the proximity to Simon and Johnny naturally leading you to feel comfortable, knowing she’s welcomed by them, she’s a part of their life. It makes you feel more at ease, and you try to convey it without getting tangled up in awkward words.
You don’t know how. Not really sure how to make genuine friends anymore, so you just sit there and watch, listening to her talk, enjoying how she rambles a little bit, laughing at herself.
When she says goodbye at the door, she promises to text you the next time she’s coming by, so you’re not surprised, and you linger there, watching her go, wondering if it’s real, surprisingly mourning the loss of companionship already.
“Johnny misses you.” The ice in Simon’s rocks glass clinks together as he sips his bourbon, corner of his mouth lifting in a partial smirk. “Not too fond of his new nurse, I’m afraid. Think he’s spoiled now.”
“How is he?” You’re on the edge of your seat for an update, but not wanting to pry too much. It’s a delicate line, one where you don’t know on which side to stand.
“Good. Wrist fracture is nearly healed, so he’ll be able to start on crutches soon. Once he does, he’ll be doing physical therapy for most of his day, and ready to come home. Should be soon.” He really smiles now, and you mirror it, unable to deny the infectious bloom of happiness spreading from him to you.
“And his liver?”
“No complications. Grafts for his burn are in great shape. Hip is the trickiest part.”
“Yeah, they take a lot longer to heal, but I’m sure he’ll do a great job of it, just like everything else.”
“Thanks to you.” You sip your wine, citrusy peach and passionfruit coating your tongue. It’s a nice bottle, and you were surprised when Simon brought it home, bag of takeaway in one arm, Penny in the other.
“No.”  Your cheeks heat. “I was just there. You guys did the hard work.”
“Wouldn’t have made it without you though. Think I would’ve lost it. Him too.”
“You would’ve been fine.” You brush it off, and he shakes his head.  
“You’re too modest.” He drains his pour, uncapping the bottle on the coffee table between you and refilling it halfway. Glass on glass chimes, and you sink deeper into the couch, relaxing, tucking your knees up until you’re half curled into a ball, wine glass cradled between your palms.
“So…”
“I told you; you can ask me whatever you like.” You knew this was the case, but hesitance is still brimming in your heart, uneasy feelings festering beneath your skin, burning question shoving to the surface.
“Did you tell Johnny we kissed?”
“I did.”
“Was he upset?”
“Only because he feels like he’s missing out. I told him we’d make it up to him.” Fire enflames your skin. We?
“And by we you mean… us. Together. Like… the three of us.”
“I do.” The girl in the mirror screams. She doesn’t understand, why you continue to act against her better judgement. Why you’re entertaining something so, so dangerous, something so stupid.
“Simon, I… I can’t.”
“You keep saying that but look where you are, bun.” He motions to the table, takeaway cartons scattered across the top, half empty bottle of wine, his bourbon, and a baby monitor. It looks like a nice night in, a simple, sweet life, not even close to being your own.
Still, the girl in mirror combats. Still.
“This isn’t… this isn’t a thing it’s just… we’re hanging out. I’m not going to be here forever, I’m looking for a place and I-“ His face changes, flicker of shadow fading across his brow before being chased away by the sunlight in his eyes. You thought he'd be easier to read, without the mask, imagined you'd be able to place his expressions but you're just as confused and lost as ever. 
“Slow down. There’s no need to look for a place to live.”
“W-what?” The wine has made you a little slow, a little sleepy, and you blink through the stupor.
“You’re still healing, sweetheart, and I know you're scared. I’ve known since the first day you stepped into Johnny’s room.”
“No.” You shake your head. Pain fizzles, numbed by alcohol, and your head swims.
“I know you weren’t mugged.” How? “I know you’re running from someone.” Oh god. The urge to get to your feet and bolt washes over you like a wave.
“I- I’m not.” The lie is bare-boned, pathetically unconvincing, and you know it. He knows it too; you can tell by the look on his face.
“You’re not ready to tell me, that’s fine. I’m patient. But you won’t be going anywhere if I don’t know you’re safe. And right now, to me, it doesn’t seem like you’re safe.” The pale yellow of your wine shines in the low lights of the living room, and you get lost in it, swirling around in his words, trying to put them together and pick them apart, desperate to understand what he means.
“Are you… are you saying you won’t let me leave?” You gulp. It’s a ridiculous conclusion, but the first one you jump to.
And in that, you know you’re giving too much away.
His face softens, and he reaches, pulling your free hand into his own, petting some sort of sequence into your skin. 
“Of course not, sweetheart. I’d never, ever force you to do something you didn’t want to do. But I do want you to stay, here with us. Where we can keep you safe, take care of you.”
“I don’t need-“
“I know you don’t. I know you take care of yourself just fine.” The indignant roar in the back of your mind settles. “But I’d love an opportunity to do it instead.”
“Simon…”
“Did you know the cells in our body hold onto trauma? They carry imprints of traumatic events. It can change your biology, the way you function.” He squeezes your hand. “It’s hard to realize… that it’s not normal, the way you might be, the way you think, or do things, when you’re carrying the physical memory of terrible things.” He’s not talking about you. There’s a fleeting flash of sadness in his eyes, ghosts circling the drain around his irises, and your heart aches. “We can help you. I don’t know who you’re hiding from, but I can guess what they’ve done- look at me.” You force your eyes back to him, and he cups your cheek. “You do not have to be afraid here. You are safe with me, with us. I know you don’t believe it, and I’ll tell you as many times you need, but it will never not be true. We can help you.”
“You don’t know… you don’t know what you’re saying.” Your denial is steadfast. They cannot possibly understand. 
A small seed of light blooms under darkness. It’s the sun, struggling to break free, trying to drag you into its warm, golden rays. It tugs and tugs, clawing towards you, illuminating the path forward.
The words come out before the girl in the mirror can stop them.
“You don’t know him. He’s sick and… powerful. He’s a monster but he’s smart, has connections, has ways of doing things that… I don’t even know. He’d kill you.” You clap your hand over your mouth in shock, surprised at yourself. It’s the most you’ve said about Philip in years.
You expect pushback. Expect Simon to flinch, or cower, or have good sense… a rational reaction to being told someone might try to hurt him.
He smiles instead, settling back on his side of the couch.
“I’d just have to get to him first, then.” Is he… is he? Simon watches you, reaches into your brains to peer inside, rooting around in your head. The way he looks at you, like he knows everything you’re feeling, can see what you're thinking, makes you shiver, makes you feel like you’re a tiny mouse in the shadow of a mountain. He sighs. “Give us a chance.”
“A chance?”
“A chance, to know you. Let us in, let us try. Stay here, with us, spend time with me and Johnny and Pen. No strings attached. If you decide it’s not for you… we’ll understand.”  
No strings attached. 
You could pick up and leave if you wanted. If you had to. 
What’re you doing? 
“How does it work? Would we all…” you trail off, confused.
“Date?” Simon finishes gently. “Yes.”
“So, you guys are… bi?” He chuckles.
“Yes, sweetheart. We’re bi.”
“Is this… a thing? Something you guys do?”
“We’ve never taken another partner before, no.” Your eyes widen. “You’re our first.” You don’t know why, but knowing is exhilarating and terrifying, all at the same time. You’re their first. 
He’s talking about it like it’s already happened. 
Fatigue settles in around you, thick fog of it draping over your shoulders and clouding your head.
“I… I don’t know.” You stifle a yawn. “I need to think.” He abandons his perch for one next to you, pulling your wine glass free and setting it on the table.
“Tired?” His fingers sweep over your cheek, skin warming under his touch.
“Mhmm.” You mumble, sleepily. Your head is very heavy, suddenly, hard to hold up.
“Alright.” He stands, bending to slide an arm under your knees, the other supporting your back in one fluid movement.
“What are you doing?” You squeak, grabbing onto him as he rises, lifting you into his chest at full height. Panic floods your nervous system, fevered tone pitching into a plea. “Put me down! I’m too heavy. Please, I’m too heavy, you can’t-“
“I’ve lifted a car off a teammate before.” He tells you, the thick of his body beneath your ear vibrating. “And I’ve dug Johnny out of a collapsed concrete wall. I’m made to pick things up, bunny. Heavy or not.” He holds you right there, all the way up the stairs, down the hall to the guest room, before settling you back on your feet, big hands around your waist for balance. Your back is to his chest now, and his nose drifts across the top of your head, slow path of his fingers stroking down your hip. “Alright?” He asks, and you nod, throat too dry to speak.
He squeezes. You stifle a gasp, resist the urge to press your thighs together.
It’s been so long since you’ve been touched, since anyone has handled you with reverence, with affection. You almost don’t recognize it.
His hand drifts, slipping between your thigh and cheek. “This okay?” He murmurs, and you manage a rough yes, word sticky and thick in your throat. Yes. Yes, don’t stop. A fingertip strokes along the crease there, back and forth, before trailing upward. He takes as much of your flesh in his palm as he can, squeezing again, caressing, mouth skimming along your neck.  
“Oh.” you breathe. The room is warm, barely lit by the bedside lamp, and you burn in the dark, sensations sparking alive that have long laid dormant.
The girl in the mirror curses you.
“Need help getting to bed?”
“N-no.” Yes! “I’m… fine.” His lips touch your cheek, then your ear, breath blowing over you, firm, solid warm mass at your back exhaling shakily.
“Get some sleep.” He steps away, but not before he swings, slowly, softly, into the pillow plush of your ass. It’s a gentle tap, but the fire between your legs roars. “Goodnight, bun.”
“G-goodnight.”
Simon's got his sweatpants and boxers off before he's even fully in the bathroom, running right into the shower, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as the water flicks on. It's not hot enough, but he doesn't even notice, cock heavy in his grip, tip already smeared wet with pre-come. 
"Fuck, bunny." He grits, trying to stay quiet but unable to hold his tongue.
He's awful, for this. Awful for doing this after you've had such an emotional night. Awful for touching you when you're still healing, awful for grabbing a handful of your ass and imagining sliding his dick through the space between those cheeks. He can't stop, strokes himself long, squeezing the base and pulling up and back as he imagines you on all fours, perfect globe perked up in the air for him, his cock sinking into your soaking wet pussy as you moan. He knows you would make the prettiest sounds for them, sweet gasps and cries, bouncing on Johnny's cock in his lap. 
"Hop like a bunny." He'd coo, and you'd whine, riding Johnny as Simon coached you until you were so close, almost there on the edge. "Show daddy how bad you want to come, little bunny." 
He jerks himself harder, eyes closed, imagining the ripple of your flesh, the way you'd bounce so perfectly, how Johnny would be gripping your hips with his head tipped back, throat exposed for Simon to nip and suck a mark into.
His bunny. His boy. 
His toes curl. Water streams down his back, slicking his skin, forearm burning with each stroke, imagination running wild as he gets closer and closer, thinking about you and Johnny and him together, finally, your legs spread wide in front of their faces, perfect pussy on display. He can almost hear the way you'd whisper their names, and it blinds him, fills his head with white light. He knows you're beautiful when you come, as beautiful as you are when you let your guard down and give him a real smile, as beautiful as you are everyday, so pretty and perfect, kind, even as a ghost. He imagines it, pictures it, the sight of his and Johnny's come leaking out of your hole, fingers shoving it back inside, marking you as theirs. 
He comes with your name on his lips, a strangled whisper, painting the tile with himself. 
He falls asleep with a new addition in their bed, on top of Johny's t shirt and the baby monitor... there's now a long sleeved tee, plucked from your dirty laundry this morning as he was getting ready to leave. It smells like you, something he wishes he could bottle, and he holds it close, tied in tandem with Johnny's, curled in his arms on top of the pillow. 
1K notes · View notes
ackermans-posts · 1 year
Text
𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓿𝓪𝓵 𝓯𝓾𝓷
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feat: bf!satoru x reader
contents: public sex, exhibition kink, daddy, dirty talk, tit play, riding, horny reader, multiple orgasms,cream pie, breeding, slapping, goofy, ferris wheel, late night, blowjob, oral
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“satoru! let’s go on the ferris wheel,” you giggle, pulling his sleeve in your direction, “haven’t been on one of these in forever!”
satoru can never deny you, grinning from ear to ear as he follows you. looking down at your skirt, he tells himself it’s not because of how your ass bounces with every hop you take; he tells himself it’s because he likes Ferris wheels too. somehow you know he’s staring at you, thinking naughty things. your pussy flutters at the thought.
“can you pay, baby?” you ask with a smile, turning to face him with the cutest pout you could muster. he tsks, laughing to himself before giving a small smack to your ass. “killin my wallet, hun,” he murmurs, handing the worker the cash for the ride. not even seconds later you’re climbing on the little ride and pulling him in with you, waiting till you’re at the top before speaking.
“you enjoying today’s date so far, huh sweetie? you must be, considering I’ve spent over $100 already,” he hums, the tone sounds harsh but you know he’s kidding around, he couldn’t care less about the money if it means makin his girl happy.
“mhm, daddy,” you prop yourself on his lap, hands hugging around his neck, “been so good, the view is wonderful,” you tease, staring directly at his lips. satoru leans in, brushing his against yours, lightly ; just teasing. your legs squeeze against his.
“you sure?” he grins against your lips, “nothing’s missing?”
you smile, drinking his face up with your eyes, “jus- just one thing,” you whisper, movin your clothed pussy against his thigh lightly, “jus’ been so so horny since we got here,” you whine, giving his faces small kisses.
“yeah?” he lilts, “you can hold off till we get home, can’t you?”
“you’re supposed to take care of me, daddy”
satoru sucks in a breath, feeling your legs squeezing against his. he takes a quick look out of the window and groans, “the shit you make me do,” then he’s grabbing your cheeks, forcing your lips into a pout and his mouth is on yours. you giggle against him, moving your tongue along his as he tries to pull you closer. your little gasps fuel satoru on more and more, loving when he lifts your tiny skirt up, kneading your ass.
you feel wetness sliding down your pussy, n you can’t help but keep kissing him. the feeling of his tongue gliding over his lips turns you feral, “shit-,” satoru laughs, trying to keep up with your mouth, “so fuckin hot,”
his hands squeeze at your ass one more time before he’s hissing in annoyance, toying at your pink fucking panties. he’s breaking the kiss, leaning towards your ear.
“I’m’ gonna rip these fuckin things off, baby” he whispers, leaving harsh kisses on your neck and chest. you feel yourself hump your pussy on his leg again, wanting his mouth back on yours.
“oh god,” you whine, “m’ gonna cum”
satoru grins, he cannot stop himself from chuckling. he pulls down your top, letting your tits run free. “yeah, baby? how? i haven’t done anything to you yet,” his mouth sucks on your nipple, teasing and pulling.
“gimme a kiss, baby,” he teases, smiling at how eager you are to listen. you almost leap at the opportunity, lips smashing on his as you whimper, reaching to toy with your nipples as he takes control of your mouth. one last moan and he doesn’t miss how you’re shaking, grinding that lil pussy on him like your life depends on it.
“ya just came, hm?” he laughs, noticing a big wet spot on his jeans. he smiles at your cute little nod, loving how you already look out of it. he’s about to speak when the Ferris wheel cart suddenly stops, and a loud intercom fills your ear.
“Hello! I thank everyone for coming to this lovely spring carnival! As a little treat, please look out your windows as we pause this ride to release some fireworks. Thank you, and do not be alarmed— the ride will resume once they are done.”
“please, satoru,” you gasp, “wan’ you to fuck me so so bad before we get off,” he winces, growing noticeably harder and harder at your cute begging. you bury your face in his neck, sucking and leaving little kisses, doin your best to hurry him up.
“shhhh, baby,” he hushes you, trying to calm you down as he grabs onto your hips, “I’m gonna take good care of ya, pussies gonna be well fed when I’m done wit her,” his hands toy with your skirt for a little before peelin off your panties.
“lift your hips for me, love” he mumbles, finally ridding yourselves from that barrier. satoru exhales, fingers soaking themselves as he dips through your folds. you gasp, holding onto his neck as he starts to circle around your clit.
“ah— satoru,” you cry, trying to ignore the hard pounding in your core as he dips a finger inside you. he grins, inching it inside and out before adding a second finger.
“so fuckin wet,” he grins, “shit, don’t even needa prep you as much,” his fingers slide out to rub against your mouth, spreading your juices against your tongue. satoru’s dick grows incredibly hard under you, almost popping out of his zipper.
“you want it so bad? ya’ gotta work for it,” he coos, “be a good girl n’ get on your knees for me,”
you whine, but don’t want to wait to figure out what’ll happen if you don’t listen. you slide off him with a pout, your tits bouncing with the movement as you end up on your knees, face rubbing against his leg. satoru’s eyes are glued on you, fuck the fireworks. he can’t look anywhere else. he rubs the bulge on his jeans, head falling back with a groan at the feeling.
“ah shit,” he groans, grabbing your hair with one fist, “take my cock outta these jeans for me,”
your core flutters with the command, and your eyes don’t differ, they stay directed at him as you hastily unzip his pants, pullin them down to his legs before you do the same to his boxers. you could cum, just by watching how his dick pops out, smacking against his abdomen. precum’s already slippin out, n your mind goes fuzzy with the need to taste him.
“good fuckin girl,” he gives his dick a few strokes, eyes rollin back while he stares at your tits. he’s not gonna fuckin last so he has to make the most of this. “spit on it, baby, go ahead.. spit,” he murmurs, almost spilling himself on your face right then and there when you oblige, drool seeping from your lips onto him.
you’re honestly dazed. nothing’s registering through your mind, your boyfriends cock only thing you can think of, only wanting him inside of you, breeding you, pounding into you so fuckin hard in this cart that someone starts to question it. you must be so fuckin lost that satoru’s words weren’t even reaching your brain.
“are you listening to me, baby?” he murmurs, giving a little slap to your face that finally knocks you out of your dream. “am I gon have to stop all this? cus my girl isn’t listening?” he threatens, his strong hand gripping your cheeks together.
you panic, of course you don’t want him to stop! “no, no m’ sorry daddy, m’ listening,” you plead, staring up into his gorgeous blue eyes.
“you gon listen to daddy? I said stick your tongue out… yeah, fuck, jus like that… keep it out while I tap my cock against your lil tongue,” he groans, mumbling intelligible words as he slaps his tip against your tongue before sliding his whole length inside. you can’t help but gag, throat constricting against him. he doesn’t let up, gripping your hair as he fucks his cock into your mouth straight away.
“hollow your cheeks out… just like I taught you,” he murmurs, dick sliding even deeper, feelin your nose hit the base of his cock each time, “yeah, fuck jus like that”
drool seeps from your mouth into his balls. you do your best to keep going, but eventually satoru notices your quick shortness of breaths before finally giving you a little break. he pulls his cock out of your mouth, givn you time to cough and heave.
“cmon, you can handle a little more for daddy, right?” tears pool from your eyes but you nod, grabbin the base of him to give his tip little sucks and kitten licks. you’ll do anything for him, he admires. he has to pull you away before the tightness of his balls becomes too much. he needs to finish inside of you tonight.
“god, please! want you inside of me, satoru,” you cry, wiping the incoming tears from your eyes. the need to being full is pulling at your insides.
“aww, don’t cry baby, you’re gonna get it real soon,” he coos, wipin your tears away along with the drool on your chin. “jus’ gotta work for it okay? cmon, hop on daddies lap.”
you sniffle, standing up to climb over him. “lift your hips again, yeah.. good girl,” his cock slides up and down your cunt, spreading the wetness over his tip. you gasp, and can’t help but sit all the way down on it. satoru curses, groaning loud as he grips your hips tightly.
“oh, fuck. bad fuckin girl,” he hisses, feeling your walls squeeze against him so tight, even he has to take a second to compose himself. you’re crying, knowing you took him all way too fast without taking time to adjust to the pain.
“oh, fuck! daddy it hurts.. hurts so bad,” you whine, sitting all the way down at the base of his cock, being careful not to move. “shh, I know, I’ll make it all better soon,” he says, thumb immediately reaching down to rub at your clit. you moan, grabbing into his shoulders. some pain immediately reduces to pleasure, n you’re still left a sobbing mess.
“more more, oh god,” your loud whimpers fill the cart, your own fingers toying with your nipple as satoru continues rubbing at your puffy little bud.
satoru grins, givin your lips a little peck. “feel better? yeah?” you nod at him, mouth gaping in pleasure.
“good girl. bounce up and down on my cock, alright? I know it hurts, do it to make daddy happy,” he commands, and you’re doin your best to listen. you start with a slow roll of your hips, moaning as your clit rubs over his abdomen.
just then, the loud intercom starts again.
“Good evening! Thank you for your patience and I hope you all enjoyed the view. The ride will start up again in 5 minutes, thank you.”
your eyes widen, that’s not enough time for you both.
“satoru, what do we do,” you whine, still rolling your hips against his cock.
“guess ya gotta hurry up, hun. don’t care if it hurts, m’ gonna fuck you myself if you don’t start bouncin,” he hisses, feelin your tight pussy squeeze the life out of him.
panic races through your veins as you lift up just until the tip is in before sliding all the way back down. you know you’re being loud, but you could not care anymore. light pain fills you but you keep going, sliding up and down until you’re seeing stars. the sound of your ass smacking over his hips is the only thing registering between you.
“oh fuckk, doing so fucking good,” satoru groans, staring at your tits rolling up and down between each bounce. his eyes roll back as you finally find your pace. “you fuckin feel that? your pussies squeezing me so damn tight,”
his hips start meeting you halfway, increasing the pace and intensity way more than before. you feel out of it. In the best way possible. the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot every thrust sends you away, more and more moans pouring out of your throat. you can’t help, you cum right away.
“oh fuck, you cummin for me? cumming on my cock like a little slut— oh shit,” he groans, thrusts growing sloppy and careless. “reach down and play with your pussy,” he hisses, moaning alongside with you as your pussy contracts around him. cream coats his cock, makin sure his pace doesn’t let up.
“m’ gonna fuckin cum inside you, fill your pussy up until you can’t hold anymore.. fuck fuck,” he leans forward to suckle your tit in his mouth, loving how you’re still trying to bounce on his cock.
“I-I can’t anymore! satoru please, s’ too much,” you cry, pussy feeling overstimulated with how much his cock keeps hitting your g-spot over and over again. you feel as if you’re gonna cum once more with the pressure.
“you can, baby. fuck, I feel you tightening up again, you gonna cum with me?” another hard thrust follows by another through his constant mumbling, and it’s his finger pressing on your clit that sends you to paradise again. you squeeze around him, a loud wail comin from you as you release.
“good girl, gonna cum inside this tight little pussy- shit shit-,” one last sloppy thrust has him releasing his load in you. thick ropes of cum filling your womb has you trembling over his frame. his name the only thing coming from mind fucked brain. satoru’s groan fills the air as he at last stills his hips, letting go of the last drops of cum. he chuckles, laying his head back as you fall alongside him, his cock still nestled in your pussy.
“can’t believe you made me fuck you inside a ferris wheel,”
“feel so much better now, daddy,” you smile against his neck, all content and happy.
satoru laughs before looking out the window.
“shit, hurry up and put all your clothes on. we’re almost at the bottom.”
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r0tte3nlungz · 5 months
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virgin!choso ✮| headcannons
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chosoxfem!reader
MDNI -> warnings: afab reader (but anyone can read yk), virginchoso! (cherry popping /losing his viginity), smoking weed, making out, blowjobs, jerking off, mastubation, voyeurism, kinda dom reader (teasing choso), reader and choso fight for dominacr basically,face sitting, pussy licking, cowgirl, crying from pleasure, accidentaly creampie (choso cums inside of her by accident lol. please practice safe sex!)
a/n: thank you so much for the support on my last headcannon :((( i love yall so much pls enjoy virgin!choso (i love him so much i have brainrot)
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virgin!choso who takes responsibility, as an older brother to house yuuji. this also means that he also is responsible for yuji's friends whenever they come over.
virgin!choso who said yes when his younger brother asked if he could host a movie night at the house. he relunctantly says yes.
virgin!choso like the good brother he is, accompanies yuji when he goes out to buy snacks and drinks for the event later in the evening. choso sneaks out of the store to buy some weed so he can just relax when he locks himself in his room later.
virgin!choso who waits until all of yuji's friends arrive, sitting on the couch and waving as megumi, nobara and junpei walk through the door.
virgin!choso who cant stop staring at you when you walk in. yuji greets you with a hug and the smile that is displayed across your face makes choso blush unexpectedly. (nobara saw it but kept it to herself)
virgin!choso who gets even more flustered when you sit right next him. you smell like strawberry and vanilla and oh, how he wishes he could just keep sitting next to you. youre intoxicating.
virgin!choso who quickly realizes that he's attracted to his younger brother's friend so he quickly removes himself from the group and escapes up the stairs, making sure the door to his room is locked.
virgin!choso who takes out a preroll, lights it and inhales the smoke, letting the creeping sensation of the weed take effect.
virgin!choso who lies down on his bed and closes his eyes. unfortuntaly, he hasnt recovered from you yet so again, his face starts to redden.
virgin!choso who takes a few more hits of the joint to take his mind off you but you are a hard thing to forget. he remembers the way you smile and the way you introduced yourself to him but he could hardly remember anything you had said since all he was focusing on was the shape of your lips. how pouty they were, how glossy they were.
virgin!choso who remembers what youre wearing. it was a simple tanktop but he could see the corners of your bra peaking out from the top. something that had choso's mind racing with not-so-innocent thoughts.
virgin!choso who re-imagines your lips joined with his, making out passionately. he then imagines your lips on his cock. how would they look if your tongue was swirling around his tip as well?
virgin!choso who can feel his cock strain against his boxers. its a tightness he cannot ignore. he pulls down his sweatpants to reveal the large buldge under it."fuck." he mutters under his breath. he sucks his teeth in while removing his boxers. his thick cock springs free, slapping his stomach. choso watches as the senstive, pink tip leaks a clear fluid.
virgin!choso who lightly grasps his cock, stroking it slowly. he's panting steadily as he imagines how your hand would feel around him. he groans quietly.
virgin!choso who's thoughts get even dirtier, stroking faster as he visualizes your warm cunt surrounding him. he sees you on top of him, bouncing on his length as your soft tits bounce with the rhythm. at this point, he's forgetten about the group downstairs. he's moaning like a bitch, gasping at the feeling of ecstasy.
virgin!choso who is unable to recognize that you are right against the other side his door, feeling a puddle of warmth pool in your panties. you were supposed to just grab something from yuji's room and come back downstairs however, you couldnt ignore the loud moaning from his older brother's room.
you slowly slip your hand down your jeans. your cold hands interacting with your sex makes you gasp as you circle your sensitive clit. you hide your moans through strained breathing. "mmmhf..." you accidentally let out, hoping the man on the other side of the door didnt hear you.
virgin!choso who hears a muffled sound at his door. it startles him, letting go of his hard on.
virgin!choso who quickly pulls up his boxers and sweatpants before unlocking his door to see you, red in the face with eyes watering. he scans his eyes down your figure to see your hand in your pants. you quickly remove it.
virgin!choso who looks at you in surprise before asking. "did you hear me?" he blushes when you nod.
"im sorr-" you try to get out before he interrupts you by pulling your free hand towards his room. he locks the door behind you.
youre frozen in place, not knowing if the man in front of you would confront you about the situation.
instead, he leans towards you, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment .“do you need…help?” he whispers. you look up at him in surprise.
virgin!choso’s eyes widen when you nod, before kissing him gently. he can feel your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. he could feel his overly sensitive cock rub against the fabric of his boxers, making him groan into the kiss.
virgin!choso falls back onto his bed as a result of you pushing him. the kiss was sloppy and spit dripped down your chins. he can tell you were enjoying it, grinding against his hard-on. you finally let go of the kiss before hastily removing your jeans and underwear.
you get on top of him, displaying your sopping cunt to his face. choso's mouth is watering and he couldnt wait any longer to taste you so he grabs your waist and pushes you onto his face, causing you to yelp.
"angghh!" his tongue is doing wonders. he slowly and sensually laps up the juices dripping from your entrance, groaning in delight. his shaky hands dont leave your waist, only pushing down harder so you cant escape him.
virgin!choso who is glad he's watched enough porn to know how to eat someone out. now he gets to reap the rewards by watching you squirm on top of him. he removes his grip from your waist to lift up your tank top and bra to reveal your cold nipples.
virgin!choso who circles your buds lovingly, making you jump at the sensation. you cream on his tongue immedietly after.
"fuck fuck fuck!" you whisper to yourself, trying to keep yourself from being too loud.
you breathe heavily as you calm down from your first orgasm, choso still softly licking up your essence. you remove yourself from his mouth, before moving down to hover over his crotch area. the flustered man props himself up, feeling your warmth of your heat through his sweatpants.
virgin!choso who hastily removes his sweatpants and boxers, revealing his thick length. you smile at how vulnerable he looks under you. his face red as a cherry and pouty expression.
virgin!choso who's eyes widen when you grab his length and rub the tip against your clit. he quickly grabs your arm, exclaiming that he's a virgin. hearing that information makes you smile.
"awee..." you coo. "considering how well you tongue fucked me, i woulda thought that you mightve had some experience..but i guess not." you whisper in his ear, biting at the cartilidge lightly. he whimpers submissively.
"its okay baby, ill be gentle. maybe if you beg enough ill let you cum inside." winking at choso before slowly pushing him inside you.
virgin!choso who cries in pleasure when he finally feels you. your walls are pulsing tight and it takes you a few seconds to fully engluf him in your heat. you, on the other hand were trying to get used to how big and girthy he is. sure, you may have done it once or twice, but choso's cock was stretching you beyond your limits. you cover your mouth as you sink further down his shaft all the way to the hilt.
virgin!choso who has to regulate his breathing in order to focus on the task at hand. his shaky hands grab your waist once more before sharing eye contact with you. he gets the 'okay' nod from you and starts to thrust his hips up.
virgin!choso who moans with you as you wrap your arms around him and kiss him once again. its a desperate kiss, filled with gasps and saliva, but to him, its insatiating. there could be nothing better in this world but this.
virgin!choso who releases from the kiss to adore your body even more. he moves his hands down from your waist to your ass, gripping at the soft fat, all while sucking on your tits.
virgin!choso who swirls his tongue against your buds, looking up at you to watch your face contort.
"i thought..hah...I thought you said you were a virgin..." you comment, eyes closed as you continue to bounce on him.
"i was..ngh" choso pants, removing his mouth from your tits. "till you came..fuck!" he fucks into you wildly. feeling your slick drip down his shaft and balls.
"mhmmf!!" you whimper as he hits your sweet spot. he smiles slowly, enjoying the way you tried to assert dominance before but now you're moaning like a slut on top of him.
virgin!choso who flips you onto your back, snapping his hips back into you, eager to reach his high.
"please..pleaspleasplease..." he whines like a broken record. "m so close....please let me cum." he feels the knot in his stomach tighten.
you look at him with fluttering eyes. "not yet."
virgin!choso who whines even louder as he plunges his cock deeper inside you, making you scream.
"please baby please..." he mumbles, his face buried in your neck. "ill do anything please let me cum..."
you grin, feeling his pace get less rhythmic and more sporadic. you carress his hair, whispering in his ear to let it all go.
virgin!choso who sobs out as he cums inside you, pumping his hips to let all of his creamy seed bed inside of you. you hum as you feel your womb get flooded, locking your legs so he wouldnt pull out.
virgin!choso who almost passes out while softening inside you. he feels your hand stroke his hair, calming him down. you scan his face, noticing tears clumped along his lashline.
virgin!choso’s heart beats wildly when you wipe his tear stained cheeks, looking at him with your fucked out expression.
virgin!choso who pulls out and watches his cum drool out of you. you watch his reaction and you can swear little hearts form in his eyes.
virgin!choso who brings a towel to you, wiping up the mess the two of you created between your thighs. you kiss him on the cheek as he cleans you up.
virgin!choso who is unaware that you have also fallen for him <33
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suguella · 2 days
Text
LESSON IN PRIVATE ꒰ ft satoru gojo ꒱
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꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : gojo, a fuck boy, insists on getting you to go to a party but since you’ve been failing classes, he offers to help you.
꒰ CONTENT WARNING ꒱ : explicit content, friends with benefits trope, porn with (?) a plot, p in v, fuckboy!gojo, foul language, cunningulus, oral (m + f), nipple play, degrading, and reader is a female.
꒰ AUTHORS NOTE ꒱ : bro this has been in my drafts for so fucking long, enjoy ;) @screampied 🤍.
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gojo : party in 2 hours, get ready :)
you : can't, gotta revise.
you were failing classes. that was a big problem and you had one person to blame; Gojo. he always managed to convince you to go to parties with him and, surprisingly, you would always say yes — but that was only because you had a thing for him.
gojo : im coming over
you : well im not opening the door for you
gojo : you’re going to do that to your best friend?
you sigh, staring at your notes. you thought to yourself, should i just fuck it and go? gojo was annoying, so a simple no wouldn’t stop him from dragging you out your house. but then again you were failing.
gojo : im outside, open the door.
you open to see to see a very tall white-haired man smirking at you, “no hi? hello?” you rolled your eyes as he chuckle. you invite him inside before breaking it to him “toru, i need to revise. sorry, but you’re on your own for this one”
“i can help you revise.” he said and you busted out laughing, "not to be blunt and all, but you're just a fuck boy"
gojo smirked, "we'll see about that," and you accepted his offer.
you were on your bed with your legs wide open, gojos face buried in your pussy. He slips your hand between your legs and made you rub your swollen clit. “come y/n you’re almost there.”
he inserts 2 fingers in, pumping vigorously while his other hand pulled on your nipples.
“come on y/n.” you didn’t know the answer only because the pleasure was taking away your concentration.
“fuck toru, i don’t know” he sucks on your pussy lips causing you to tug on his hair. “that’s not the answer baby, try again.”
he sucks on to your clit making an O shape causing your eyes roll back. “t-toru, is it a class of sugars that cannot be hydrolyzed to give a simpler sugar?”
he smirked at you, “good girl but fuck this, i need to be inside you” gojo toke off his boxer, his dick springing out.
“you’re too big” he runs his dick along your folds “sh baby, you can take it.” He holds onto your hips, nails digging into your poor skin as he plunges himself in.
the sound of skin slapping was the second noise compared to hearing you moaning his name.
he watched, seeing you play your erect nipples. you felt his cock twitch and thicken against the hug of your walls, “toru, fuck” your eyes glisten with tears as he stretches you out.
“you can do this y/n” he says as he rocks your body causing you to whimper. with each thrust came a moan, your nails scrape his lower back. he hissed, “careful babe”
you tilt your head back, searching for gojos lips. he reciprocated by grabbing your throat with his free hand and tugs at your top lip with his teeth.
you’re almost there and gojo was too, you both finish, still holding on to each other. he didn’t want to let go of you, at least not yet.
he’d be lying if he said he never wished for this.
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nicoline1998enilocin · 2 months
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Cuddle bug
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PAIRING | Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT | ~ 900 words
SUMMARY | Steve comes home from a long mission, and all he wants is to be cuddled up in bed with his favorite person. However, your shared secret threatens to be spilled when your good friend walks in the door and finds the two of you in bed together.
RATING | Teen (T)
WARNINGS/TAGS | Established (secret) relationship, use of nickname (Doll).
A/N | This little drabble is written based on a request I received from a sweet Anon! As soon as I saw this prompt, I couldn't resist writing a little something, so I hope you will all enjoy it! This is proofread by the amazing @ccbsrmsf1, for which I'm forever grateful. I love you 🩷
EVENTS Masterlist | @marvel-smash-bingo | Secret relationship Masterlist | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Can't Warm Up Masterlist | @ultimatechrisbingo | "That is America's ass."
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Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source
Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
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Steve has been away on an extended mission—three and a half weeks and counting—and you're missing him more than ever. The two of you started dating only a few months ago, though it mainly takes place behind closed doors. You cannot get enough of one another whenever you are alone. Still, when other people are around, it is strictly professional—apart from the occasional reassuring smile you give one another.
Within the Avengers, there is no opposition to team members dating. Still, Steve has specifically asked to keep your relationship a secret because he wants to explore the connection between you two. It is the perfect way to get to know each other personally, and the last few months have been amazing because of that.
Now, you find yourself in your bedroom, curled up in your comfiest armchair with a good book and Alpine beside you. Since Bucky is on the same mission as Steve, you have taken over her care, and she's purring away in her sleep on the windowsill, enjoying the warm spring sun.
Just as you're about to finish your chapter, you hear a knock on your door, and you look up, expecting Natasha or maybe Tony to come by, but when you see who walks in the door, you smile brightly. Steve is back from his mission.
"Hi, Doll. I missed you," he tells you as he walks into the room, and your book lies abandoned in your chair. He's still wearing his suit and the shield on his back, letting you know he came to visit you right away, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild.
"Steve, you're back already! I thought you would be gone for another few days!" Your arms are wrapped around his waist as you plaster yourself against his chest. His heartbeat thumps against your cheek as he gives you soft kisses on the top of your head. His hands rub soothingly over your back as he inhales your sweet scent.
"Mission got wrapped up early, so I figured I'd come home to my girl as soon as possible," Steve says. You lift your head to meet his gaze, warmth spreading through your cheeks as he calls you his girl.
"I love it when you call me your girl; it makes me feel special," you say shyly, and Steve can't help but chuckle.
"I'm glad because I cannot stop calling you that," he tells you before kissing you in a sweet, soft kiss. You two take your time to bask in one another's familiarity, but he pulls away when he can feel a shiver run down your spine.
"I think it's time we had some cuddles, Doll. You're shivering," he whispers, and you nod.
"That sounds good. You know I can't warm up properly with you there," you tell him, and he smiles knowingly. Before you know it, Steve has put down the shield, and his suit is folded neatly on top. As he bends down to put his boots away as well, you happen to glance over, and you're met with the glorious sight of Steve's butt being wrapped perfectly by his light blue boxer briefs, highlighting it beautifully.
"Hmm, so that is America's ass," you say jokingly. You have seen it clothed and bare countless times, but you still can't help saying it. The bright red flush covering Steve's cheeks has you smiling wide, and you can't get enough of the sight.
You have also taken your clothes off, being left in your underwear as you crawl under the covers with Steve. Due to the super soldier serum, his body temperature is always warmer than a regular person's, so he makes a perfect cuddle companion during the nights and colder months.
"Welcome back, Steve. I missed you and your warmth so much," you whisper when you're lying in his arms, your leg thrown over his, his arm wrapped around you, and your head on his chest. The comforter is pulled up to your chin, and you're just about to fall asleep when you hear a few knocks on your door.
"Y/N? I'm here to pick up Alpine!" you hear Bucky's voice carry through the door before he swings it open, and you immediately sit upright in the bed, clutching the comforter to your chest, leaving Steve exposed in the bed in the process.
"B-Bucky, hi!" you say as embarrassment floods your body that you're caught in bed with your boyfriend. Bucky's face turns bright red as he looks at the two of you, his mouth opening and closing without words as he tries to understand what's happening. Without saying another word, he turns around and closes the door behind him, leaving you two to wonder what just happened.
"I should go talk to him, Doll," Steve says as he leans in for a kiss, which you happily give him.
"Okay, but only if you promise to come back soon. I can't miss you for too long again!" you tell him, and he nods with a smile before jumping into his pants. The rest of his suit and his shield are left behind as he runs after Bucky to explain what is going on between you two.
While you were embarrassed at first, you're also a little relieved that you can finally share the love between you two with someone. This is going to be the first step to telling everyone about your relationship, too. It won't be long before you don't have to carry this secret around anymore, and you're looking forward to that day finally being here.
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artethyst · 3 months
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~ Shadows Bathed In Moonlight ~ Pt.1
Azriel x Youngest Archeron Sister! Reader/OC
“Azriel we have been over this,” Rhysand brought a hand to his face, slim digits ghosting across his jaw in deep thought. “It is out of my hands- you are forbidden from telling her. Do you understand?”
“Even you cannot forbid me from such a thing,” he let out a dark chuckle is disbelief. “Tell me, High Lord, why is it that two of my brothers have found their mate- free to accept the bond, and it is I left alone- in the dark? As usual.” The Shadowsinger’s voice dripped with venom, an uncharacteristic snarl on his face as his primal instincts took over, having no outlet for such scathing carnal desires- having been barred from even spending time with his Mate.
“Azriel, you know it is not the same.”
“How is it not the same?”
“She is still coming to terms with what happened to her- her powers are still out of control-”
“Then let me help her!”
“That is Cassian’s job.”
The two men became silent as a soft rap on the door signified them of a presence- her presence, Azriel noted, her soothing scent of fresh lillies and the first rain of spring overwhelming him as her angelically golden head poked through the door nervously.
He felt his lips tug at the corner at the sight of her, Rhysand giving him a warning look at the almost unnoticeable gesture.
Azriel. The familiar voice was strained. Leave us.
“I…I apologise for interrupting,” came her gentle voice, twinkling blue eyes apologetic as Azriel was forced to tear his own away, the golden thread that only he could see taunting him in glittering ocean of her iris.
“You have nothing to apologise for,” came the Shadowsinger’s smooth reply, bowing in such a way Rhysand knew his infamous patience had been worn thin. “High Lord.”
~
Azriel had not ventured far, his shadows, uncharacteristically disobedient, willing him to stay close enough to her- his Mate in an onyx haze of longing he was beginning to suffocate under.
He watched Rhysand leave first, jaw ticking as the male rounded the corner, anticipating his sister-in-law to follow in tow, her gossamer gown and its iridescent scintillation billowing around her like a halo.
He heard her gasp as one of them curled itself around her pointed ear, cursing beneath his breath, only to hear her giggle- a liberating sound that might have exalted him from the depths of his own hell, an angelic noise that could have him repenting on his knees just to hear a single note of.
“Azzie…” she smiled up at him, as he remained still- as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t- he had. “Your shadows are loose again!”
Only for you- ever for you, he wanted to say, words turning to ash quicker than the breath was stolen from his lungs at the sight of her.
He wished he could ask Feyre to immortalise the moment as she stood- tendrils of him dancing across her unblemished skin, their dark illimitability neither scaring nor disgusting her as her rosy cheeks widened, their vaporous talons ardently skimming over her guiltlessness.
“S-Sorry,” was all that came out, low and stuttered, his bronzed countenance flushing at his own weakness- thanking the mother Cassian was not around to tease him for it.
“Do you think they like me?” She teased, unaware of the true weight of her words, “they never seem to latch on to anyone else…” She trailed off as he called them back, unable to stomach the sight of her- so close and yet so far from him, in such a cruel display of fate.
“It is hard for anything not to.” He mused gently, not missing the way her rosebud lips parted, the saccharine scent of her own innate longing drifting up to him in taunting waves of arousal.
“Azriel-” She had not used his name- called him that for such a long time, her fair face falling as he stormed away, wondering what she had done- had said for him to treat her so callously.
Her hand was splayed out in a fruitless attempt to stop him from abandoning her and prevent him from vanishing entirely- a frustrating habit he adopted had as of recent, baring its ugly, wilted head whenever their conversations has begun to blossom beyond anything other than formality.
In the few years she had known him he had never acted in such a way, making her slowly retreat back into the self-loathing girl he had once culled from her self inflicted cage. His own heart lurched as he felt her through the unclaimed bond- suffering, again, because of him.
He had been the one to make her feel like she was home- that he might have even been it. Yet the retreating coils of his own darkness reminded her that he could never love her.
That she would never be enough for a man such as he.
And as her soul cried for him in a manner she had yet to recognise, his own howled back in a melancholic crescendo as he cursed the Mother for always deafening his heart’s symphony.
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catcze · 1 month
Note
N.sfw
//////
You cannot convince me Wriothesley could keep his mouth shut while getting head. Every time is just like the first, he's going to moan with a softness that's absent from his normal speaking voice, his hand buried in your hair as he shakily urges you onward... And if you just... Stopped? The Duke might be gruff when it comes to business, but with his lover, he's not going to use force. He's going to bite his lip, squeeze his eyes shut and swallow his pride before letting out the most desperate little "Please.."
NSFW!! 18+ ONLY !!
Oh?? My god ?? Dude this has lived rent-free in my brain this whole day I hope you know.
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Goodness, yk, I can see Wrio as the kind of person who prefers to give rather than receive, you know? Who gains pleasure from knowing that you're feeling good. It's not often that you get to go down on him, but oh each time is worth remembering.
Fuck, and can you imagine the small, aborted thrusts? Ones that he can't help, so desperate from the feeling of your mouth just there. How, against his better efforts, his body is so desperate for you to take him deeper into your throat that he twitches and jerks even as he tries to keep still because he doesn't want to be rough with you.
Wriothesley who pants, voice raspy as he says your name so sweetly, the word practically a plea. His whole body is tense, like a coiled spring taut with restraint. A flush is high on his cheeks and sweat drips from his brow just from you cockwarming him with your mouth.
"Sweetheart, you're killing me here," he says, voice shaky as he chuckles. He had thought it harmless to let you have your fun when you asked earlier, but oh, he hadn't expected this.
The hand still in your hair goes to cup your jaw, feeling the way your mouth stretches open around his length, and gently guides you to look up up up at him so he can meet your eyes. And the sight of you on your knees, between his thighs and looking up at him with his hard length in your mouth— the slightest of quirks to your lip like you know how desperate you've made him— nearly makes him cum right then and there.
Wriothesley barely manages to hold his shit together, but his cock twitches in your mouth, betraying how badly he needs you.
"Baby." His voice is so so so breathless, so raspy. His thumb rubs against your bottom lip, and the slightest of moans escapes him when your tongue flicks against the underside of his cock. "Don't tease— Sweetheart don't tease me, please. I'm already so hard for you, it hurts."
And it's true— Wriothesley looks nearly delirious from how badly he wants to be deeper in your throat— looks like he'd beg a thousand more times, would whine your name and tell you how good you look as much as you want, if only to get another inch in your mouth. So you have mercy on him, and after a deep breath, you sink down the rest of his length, until he's so deep in your throat that you gag— and with a choked yell of your name, Wriothesley's cock jerks as he cums, flooding your mouth and throat with the taste of his spend.
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actuallysaiyan · 4 months
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hihihi!! this is for your lovely valentines day event!! i was thinking maybe SDV Sebastian tries to plan the most romantic Valentine’s Day, but everything falls through and he has to try and improvise to impress reader! it can be nsfw or sfw its totally up to you!! :)) 💕
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warnings: mentions of drinking, use of vibrator, Sebastian is a nasty little thing, Robin knows y'all are gonna get nasty word count: 1.1k pairings: Sebastian x Fem!Reader summary: Valentine's Day usually sucks for Seb, and this one is no different...except he really needs it to go well despite all his plans crumbling before his eyes.
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Sebastian cannot believe how terribly this is going. After all the planning he put into today, it was just all crumbling before his very eyes. He’s been pining after you ever since the spring Flower dance, and now it’s winter and it’s valentine’s day and he had everything all planned out in the best way. Yet it just wasn’t going to work out in his favor.
The secret gift he had made for you? Somehow someone got into his room and it got pushed off the shelf. So the clay figurine of your character in Solarian Chronicles is completely destroyed. He had written you a sweet song, but for the life of him, he can’t find the notebook he wrote it in. And even the gift he ordered for you online isn’t going to show up on time.
Sebastian lays on his bed, his eyes closed tight and his breathing coming in and out quickly. He’s got just a few hours to be able to improvise for you, otherwise things are going to become even more terrible. He texts Sam for advice, then he texts Abigail. They both have different ideas for what he can do to make this work, but Sebastian begins working harder. He knows he’s going to have to figure something out. So he calls up the Saloon and he begs Gus to cook him up some sort of meal for you and him. Gus decides to do this favor for Sebastian, telling him to come pick it up within the hour.
The next thing he’s planning is to make his room a little more romantic. He changes the sheets, finds a few candles to light and cleans off the table so you both can eat there. Then he goes upstairs, looking for his mother. 
Robin cheerfully helps her son plan the rest of the night sweetly. She reminds the rest of the family not to bother the happy couple, and she even gives Sebastian a bottle of champagne. He’s blushing as she hands this to him, a soft “have fun!” coming from her lips. Sebastian doesn’t even know what she’s thinking, but he knows she can probably deduce that there will be something naughty going on downstairs.
In the backyard, Seb begins picking some flowers. He doesn’t have a gift to give you, but he knows you love flowers. And once he gets a nice bouquet going, he spots Linus. The older man flashes him a soft smile, knowing that Sebastian is working his hardest to still make this a very romantic day. Despite the cold, Sebastian manages to pluck beautiful Crocus flowers and a few Holly for some balance.
Once he’s got the pretty bouquet of winter flowers, he settles them in a vase in his room. Sebastian takes a moment to look around and admire his handiwork. This bedroom was going to be the perfect setting for such a romantic evening. All that was left was for him to go pick you and the meals up. He takes the quickest shower and gets dressed in a warm hoodie and those tight jeans you love so much.
On his way to pick you up, his stomach is in knots. He’s worried you’ll be disappointed by the lack of real gifts and the way this night would go down. But when you greet him on the porch of your home, you’ve got the biggest smile on your face.
“Happy valentine’s day!” You say with a sweet kiss to his cheek.
He smiles, “Happy valentine’s day.”
You two share a sweet little kiss, and he pulls you in so close. It’s a sweet moment between two lovers, and he never wants this to end. Then he takes you by the hand and leads you towards the town center. You two stop at the Saloon to pick up the delicious dinner that Gus had prepared for you. He passes it to Sebastian, a playful wink and a glint in his eyes.
The walk back to Sebastian’s place has you so giddy. It feels like you’re floating on a cloud as you tell him about your day and he listens to you so attentively. Your heart is so full of love and happiness.  
Inside his room, he pours some champagne for you and you two sit and eat such a delectable meal. Seb presents the flowers to you, which you coo over. You sheepishly give him a cute little valentine’s card you made for him. You scratch the back of your neck nervously, telling him you’ve been busy taking care of the animals and mining lately to make him anything more than that.
He smiles softly, “It’s perfect, baby.”
After dinner, you’re both full of champagne. It bubbles inside of both of you, coursing through your veins. Sebastian has you pinned to the bed, kissing you over and over. The way he holds you and kisses you makes your head spin. He presses his knee between your thighs, smirking at the way you moan from just this.
“Would you believe that when I got up this morning,” Sebastian asks between heated kisses. “That I thought everything was fucked up?”
You giggle, “Knowing you, yeah I’m not so surprised.”
He feigns being insulted, but it fuels him even more. He begins undressing you slowly, his eyes lingering on your beautiful body. Then he begins to press soft kisses to your most sensitive spots, relishing in the way you moan and gasp just for him. It’s so intoxicating to know that you react to the way he makes you feel so good. It’s something he prides himself on, and he knows he’s not going to stop anytime soon.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he grunts as he grinds against you. “I’m kind of happy this is how this night turned out.”
You mewl, “Me too, Sebby.”
He grins mischievously before reaching over for the drawer in the bedside table. You know what he’s reaching for and it makes your heart race like crazy. The sounds of the vibrations coming from the wand vibrator make your cunt dribble even more slick. Sebastian chuckles darkly.
“Cute,” he murmurs hotly against your neck. “Just hearing this thing gets you going, yeah?”
You nod your head, making him chuckle again. Then he brings the vibrator to your aching cunt, and you cry out for him. The sounds of your cute little moans make his cock strain against the fabric of his boxers. Slowly, he lets the vibrator circle around your swollen nub. Sebastian has you exactly where he wants you.
“All mine…All mine for valentine’s day. My perfect valentine.”
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littlejuicebox · 3 months
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Dadstarion prompt (sorry if I missed the boat on this!) - insecure postpartum Tav, struggling with their new body. Maybe some body worship from Astarion 👀? (Personal experience - I really struggled postpartum with adjusting to my new body, it changed in ways I never even imagined). Thank you and just want to say I love your Astarion 🥰
Adore You
Thanks for your request! Not 100% sure this is what you were looking for, but I already had a mostly finished piece I was working on that definitely fits the body-worship and Tav struggling with her body parts of this prompt. It's smut, though, and when the smut gods bless, I cannot deny their gifts.
Glad you love my Astarion! I adore him. And he adores his Tav. ;)
Summary: You are struggling with your post-partum body. Astarion is here to remind you that he still adores you.
This follows my Dadstarion section of my AstarionxReader series. But no worries, you can read it as a OneShot. Here’s the gist: Astarion is mortal and you have three children together. Gale, named after the Wizard of Waterdeep and the twins. That’s about all you need to know! See my other fics for more info and storylines.
Tags/Warnings: smut with a plot, body image issues, angst w/ comfort, PiV, fingering, oral, light overstim, light daddy kink, breast milk, breast milk drinking, all the depravity i'm generally known for tbh, light creampie kinda?
Word Count: 2.8K
A/N: I'm an unhinged degenerate and no I won't apologize. Also women’s bodies are amazing and can produce life and are beautiful and my Astarion appreciates that about his Tav okay?
“Thank the gods for the nanny,” Astarion says with a dramatic sigh as he enters the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him, “Gale was about to make me read ‘P is for Peacock’ a third time and I was close to ripping my hair out, darling.” 
You chuckle softly as your husband greets you from where you’re seated at the vanity with a brief kiss and then moves to the small table in the corner of your bedroom to pour himself a goblet of wine. 
“And the twins?” He asks as his eyes watch the red liquid fall into the cup beneath it. He takes a few sips as you speak before setting the cup back down on the table.
“I’ve just fed them not too long ago and now they’re both asleep. Having Winifred to help me get them on the same schedule has been wonderful.” You respond as your husband nods and prepares a second, smaller goblet of wine, which he brings to you.
He settles himself beside you while you finish braiding your hair for bed and hums contentedly, “Perfect.”
Astarion’s hands wrap around your midsection and before you can stop yourself, you feel your body tense under his touch. The silver-haired elf pauses and frowns before retracting his hands, “Do you not want me to touch you, darling? You need only tell me.” 
You sigh and shrug as you finish off the half-portioned goblet in one long drink, mostly to avoid your husband’s gaze,  “It’s not that, it’s— it’s stupid.” 
“Look at me, little love.” He whispers, his fingers coming under your chin as they gently coax you to face him and meet his gaze. He moves forward and presses a soft kiss against your lips before continuing, “I love you. More than anything. You know this. Now, won’t you tell me whatever is the matter so that I can help?”
Your husband waits as you gather your thoughts. It’s complicated, it’s embarrassing. You know it’s silly, and vain, and yet you can’t help yourself. And you aren’t quite sure how to verbalize it all.
“I hate my body.” You finally say, your voice cracking as you speak, and something about finally saying that evil little thought aloud causes tears to spring in your eyes. 
Astarion’s mouth falls open in surprise and then he furrows his brows and quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, not knowing what to say or do apart from physically enveloping you in his love. 
You continue on, speaking into his neck, sniffling as a few more tears run down your cheeks, “After Gale, I quickly returned to my previous weight. I hadn’t had any stretch marks. But carrying the twins— it’s different, Astarion. And I was expecting it to an extent but I just— I hate my body and I hate the way I look.” 
There is a moment of silence as your husband simply holds you against him, allowing space for your tears. When he speaks, his voice is a soft murmur into your hair, “Not that you should care what I think, but I adore your body, darling. And I love everything about the way you look.” 
You scoff and withdraw from your husband with teary, reddened eyes narrowed at him, “You have to say that.”
“I do not have to do anything,” He retorts, arching his eyebrow in a challenge, “Weren’t you the one that taught me that?” 
When you don’t respond, Astarion continues on, knowing he’s won. He takes your hand in his, gently lifting it to press a kiss against your knuckle. 
“I adore your hands. Which have both slain monsters and soothed our children,” He whispers before trailing kisses up your arm and to your neck where he presses another reverent kiss against those little fang scars. 
“I adore your neck, which once provided me with sustenance I hadn’t known in centuries.” 
Your face is beginning to grow hot under his devoted attention and compliments, and you move to shrink away from your husband, but he gently grabs you by the waist. He leans into you and brushes his nose at the meeting point between your ear and neck as he inhales the smell of your skin. 
“Why are you trying to hide from me, darling?” He asks with a little sulky pout, his chin resting on your shoulder. 
“I’m not, I—“ You begin, but Astarion quickly shushes you. 
“Then just be quiet and let me adore you, hm?” He asks before running his tongue against those fang marks, making you shiver. 
You nod slightly and your husband grins, “Good girl. Now, come here.” 
Astarion pats his lap and you slide to sit upon his thighs, forgetting your finished goblet on the floor underneath your vanity stool. He rests his chin upon your shoulder as the two of you gaze in the mirror together. 
“Do you remember when I used to do this all the time?” Astarion asks, not truly waiting for a response before his long fingers trace down the side of your neck, brush along your collarbone, and then wander toward your waist, aiming to untie your dressing gown. He moves slowly and watches your expression in the mirror, waiting for you to give him any indication to stop. 
But you didn’t want him to stop. Despite your feelings about your body, you still deeply crave your husband’s comforting touch. 
The silky fabric slips down your shoulders and pools around your waist, baring you before his adoring eyes. The elf smiles and presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, still watching the two of you in the mirror. 
“Beautiful,” He whispers as he peppers a few kisses up your shoulder and the back of your neck, igniting a trail of goosebumps across your skin.
Astarion slowly drifts his hands up your sides before moving to cup a heavy, milk-stretched tit in each hand. The sensation causes you to wriggle. 
His tone is reverent, almost a whisper as he turns his head just slightly and flashes a toothy grin, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, “I adore your breasts, which have fed our eldest and now feed our twins.”
He chuckles salaciously before saying the next part, “And which, on more than one delicious occasion, have also fed me.”
Your husband lightly teases circles around your nipples as he finishes the line that he knows will cause you to blush and then gently nips at your ear lobe, earning him a gasp. You feel Astarion’s arousal pressing into your backside as he continues to caress your breasts and uses two fingers from each hand to tease and stimulate your nipples. You arch into his touch and your thighs press together as you feel a growing slickness between your legs from his attentions. 
One of your breasts begins to leak milk, and when your husband feels the warm liquid dripping onto his fingers he hums and brings the digits to his lips. You watch in the mirror as Astarion dips the two fingers into his own mouth and licks them clean while continuing to tease your other breast. 
It isn’t long before that one begins leaking, too, and your lover chuckles in delight as he watches the liquid gold trail down the bottom of your breast and languidly drip down your stomach. 
The elf brings two fingers to slowly swipe up the stream of white liquid. Then he brings those same fingers to your lips, prompting you to open your mouth.
“Good girl,” He purrs before pressing those two digits against your tongue. Astarion lingers for a moment and you shut your eyes as you eagerly wrap your lips around his slender fingers and suck. You hear a little hum by your ear and feel your lover’s cock twitch in delight underneath you as he observes the scene.
“You are a vision, love.” He murmurs, as he slides his hand away from your lips, “Now, let me take care of you the way you deserve.”
The elf gestures for you to stand, causing your robe to completely slide off your body into a pool on the floor, before he quickly spins you and then hoists you onto the vanity desk. The smallest flicker of that arrogant rogue dances across his face as Astarion moves forward to dip his tongue into your mouth. He unhurriedly teases your tongue against his as he roams his hands up and down your torso until you're panting and moaning softly into his mouth. 
When he retracts, his pupils are filled with lust. His hands come to quickly pull his shirt over his head and then undo the laces of his trousers. Before long he’s standing in front of you in only his small clothes. 
Astarion grabs your hand and guides it to the bulge straining between his legs as he asks, “Do you feel what that divine body of yours does to me, little love?” 
“Yes– my love, I want–” You begin as you eagerly try to delve your hand inside your husband’s undergarments, desperate to free his gorgeous cock. But he catches your wrist and stops you with a soft tut and a playful glint in his eyes. 
“Soon. But not yet, darling. I haven’t quite finished adoring you yet. And I’ve got the best seat in the house.” He teases, before settling himself back onto the vanity bench and grinning mischievously up at you, “Now, be a good girl and open those beautiful, plush thighs of yours for me, won’t you?” 
You oblige, and Astarion takes a moment to admire you, fully barren to him and already soaked with arousal. His arms come under your knees, spreading you wider for him, as he grips your thighs with his hands. Then he turns and begins pressing tender kisses up your thigh. He makes slow work of the task, humming contentedly on his journey toward your sex and always lingering longer in the spots where you’ve developed stretch marks. 
By the time his face is right in front of your mound, you’re positively leaking for Astarion and he groans appreciatively at the sight. 
“Beautiful. I will never tire of seeing that gorgeous cunt dripping for me, darling,” He murmurs and before you can respond, your husband is delving his tongue between your folds and eagerly feasting upon your juices. 
You moan in delight when Astarion brings his tongue to trace around your clit, so familiar with your preferences that it doesn’t take long for him to coax you toward your peak. His tongue dances expertly around the swollen nub, each pass causing your pleasure to build. Two of his long, pale fingers slide into you, meeting no resistance, and he slowly pumps the digits in and out of your walls. 
You grasp onto Astarion’s curls and whine when he adds a third finger, and he knows you’re close, so he continues his ministrations and adds more pressure as he curls his fingers just so. His other hand comes up to find your nipple and tease it between his fingers as you climb the final steps toward your climax. 
A final flick of Astarion’s tongue, a final stroke of his fingers, and you burst with pleasure, whining in delight as your thighs tremble on either side of his head. Your walls spasm and send another gush of arousal onto the elf’s face. You begin leaking breast milk once again. 
“Delicious,” Your husband murmurs as he pulls back slightly to admire the glistening of your sex and then presses forward and takes one more lap of your sensitive folds, causing you to buck into his mouth as he chuckles against you. Astarion languidly runs his tongue up to your stomach, lapping at the thin rivulets of milk running down your torso and covering his face in a shiny layer of your juices and breast milk.
Then he stands to his full height and finally— finally— steps out of his small clothes. His pale cock springs proudly from its confinement, dripping thin strings of pre-come from the reddened tip, just for you. 
“Get over here, Astarion,” You eagerly demand, voice hoarse from your cries as you hook your legs around his torso and pull him against you. 
“Anything for my little love,” Your husband responds, voice full of gravel as he runs the underside of his cock against your slit, using it to lubricate his length. 
And then the head of his cock presses into you and your mouth falls open as Astarion buries himself to the hilt. His thumb comes to lightly tease your still-tender clit as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth. He’s watching your face intently as he thumbs circles around that needy, engorged bundle of nerves. 
You use your legs to pull the elf deeper and he grins before lowering his head so that it’s right by your ear. He takes the lobe in his mouth and suckles gently, causing you to whimper.
“You’ll do one more for me, won’t you darling? You always look so gorgeous when you do.” He coaxes, his mouth so close to your ear his breath tickles the sensitive flesh. And then he’s pitching his hips just slightly, aiming to hit your favorite spot with the tip of his cock. He’s gasping and grunting now as his own need for release starts to overpower him.
You’re almost there. You’re keening with each thrust from Astarion and your walls are clenching tighter and tighter around his cock. 
He moans in response at the sensation before pressing his thumb harder against your clit and rubbing it with single-minded intensity, working you toward release. You begin to relentlessly whimper again and Astarion smiles, his eyes locked onto yours as he watches your face contort in the feeling of immense pleasure.
 “There you go, little love. Let go for daddy.” He whispers, bringing his other hand to palm the ample flesh of your ass. 
And gods, you do. 
The second orgasm ripples through you harder than the first, and you have to clasp your hand around your mouth to stifle your moan. Your walls are pulsing around your lover’s cock as you ride the wave of ecstasy.
You go almost slack and before long Astarion is ripping your hand away from your face and pressing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss as he begins to rut wildly into you, shaking the vanity with every thrust. 
“Gods, the things your body does to me,” He growls as he pulls away from your lips, snapping his hips at a punishing pace as he chases his own release. Astarion’s hand is clutching firmly into your bottom, gripping so tightly there’s sure to be bruising tomorrow. His curls fall in front of his face and his ears begin to turn red as he continues to fuck you into oblivion.
Your husband is trying with every fiber of his being to hold on, to stretch out the delicious sensation of his cock plunging in and out of your walls, but every stroke into your tightness is pushing him further and further towards his peak. He snaps his eyes shut, shaking with the effort it’s taking him to restrain himself, to continue enjoying the feeling of your flesh gripping around his.
You are so thoroughly fucked that you cannot do anything but hold onto your lover and keen underneath him as he continues pounding into you.
 “Darling— hells — my love, you’re so tight, I can’t— I’m—“ 
And then with a sudden, sharp inhale of breath, Astarion is burying his thick length inside your walls and trembling as his cock twitches, relentlessly releasing its spend. He gasps into your ear as he slows his hips, but continues to rut, using his still-hard length to press his seed deeper into you. 
His praises come out in an incoherent string as he continues to languidly rock his hips back and forth. You cup his face in your hands as you kiss him, and Astarion smiles into the kiss, finally stilling his hips as his cock softens between you two. 
“Come here, little love.” He whispers, hooking his arms underneath you. You intuitively wrap your legs around your husband’s torso and he easily carries you to the bathroom. When he finally places you down, he brushes a few strands of hair from your face and then places a tender kiss on your forehead.
“Now let’s get you cleaned up.” He says, turning to start the tap before tossing a glance over his shoulder and chuckling lightly, “And then I have to fix your braid, dear… I’m sorry to tell you that I ruined it.” 
“I think you might have also bruised my ass,” You respond, turning to flash your bottom at Astarion. 
He drops down on his knees to examine the curve of your ass, one nimble finger brushing against the blooming blue marks. You let out a little whine in response, the flesh still tender. 
Astarion presses his lips onto the bruise and lingers for a moment. Then he pulls away and frowns slightly, eyes glossing across the marks before he looks up at you and says, “I’m sorry, darling.”
“It’s okay,” You respond, glancing back to grin over your shoulder. You see your husband peering up at you, the picture of devotion, “I enjoyed it.” 
“Did you, now?” He asks with an amused smirk, his eyebrow cocking in that signature arrogant way of his. 
You nod just slightly as he places another kiss against those little bruises. His hands travel up your thighs, brushing against the wetness dripping from your sex and onto your legs. Two fingers tenderly stroke between your drenched slit. 
“Hmm, and what do we have here, little love? Is this something else that needs cleaning? Won’t you let me take a look?”
You blush but oblige anyway, leaning forward over the counter and exposing your sex, leaking with Astarion’s seed and your arousal. 
He grins and licks a long strip between your folds, causing you to buck slightly and whimper at the stimulation on your still-sensitive cunt. 
“Too sensitive? Want me to stop?” He asks gently from behind you, one hand wrapped around your thigh.
“No, keep going.” You urge him, bending forward to further reveal yourself to him, eager to feel his skilled tongue pressed into you once more. 
A small groan of appreciation from your husband is all you hear before he delves his tongue back between your legs, working to clean up the mess he made. 
The bathtub overflows and spills water onto the floor before he’s done adoring you. At least for tonight.
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bookyeom · 4 months
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pairing: wonwoo x reader word count: 2.3k warnings: a couple of swears, kissing
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Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary.
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idk by jeffrey lenh, joanna
i think that i’ve been falling ever since that day out in the park and i don’t know if this is love, but maybe this could be the start
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“I guess this isn’t so bad.”
You open one eye, looking up at Wonwoo from where you’re laying in the grass. His back is resting against a tree, and you watch as the breeze catches a few strands of his hair. It makes you smile, how calm and content he looks.
”I won’t say I told you so, but…”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth is turned up in a smile. Your eyes don’t leave him as he pushes his glasses up with a finger, his eyes taking in the surrounding park. You like seeing him like this. You’ve managed to drag him out of his dorm room on the first warm, sunny day of the year, and you’re glad he came. You’re always glad when he’s with you, but seeing him bask in the first golden glow of spring is something else.
“You just didn’t want to do this alone, and I was your last resort.”
You tsk, closing your eyes again, letting the warmth of the sun wash over your face. “That’s not true. You’re not my last resort, you’re my charity case. Helping the old man get out of his house and all that.” 
Wonwoo gasps dramatically, and you can’t help the giggle that leaves you at the sound. The two of you fall back into contented silence, the only sounds around you coming from the wind in the trees and some children playing across the field. 
“Seriously,” he speaks up again a few minutes later. “Thanks for forcing me to get off of my computer and outside for a bit. It’s a nice reminder that since winter is finally over, I can take a break from writing essays and gaming inside. So, thanks.”
You’re beaming up at him, even as he avoids your eyes after his little speech, but you know he knows you’re looking. “Glad you’re here,” is all you say. When he sends a smile your way, you know you’ve said the right thing.
You’re so warm — inside and out — that you can’t help but doze off. It’s a little while later when you stir, your eyes fluttering open as you come to. You startle when you realize that you must have nuzzled into the warmth of Wonwoo’s thigh while you slept, and you wince. Then your next thought has you realizing something even worse: his hand is gently resting on your head, and his thumb is brushing soothing circles into your scalp. 
Your breath catches. It feels so intimate, and you know that you absolutely cannot succumb to how you’re feeling, because it’s Wonwoo, and Wonwoo definitely, absolutely, 100% does not like you back. 
You make a show of stretching your toes, and as you predicted, Wonwoo’s movements stop. He drops his hand as you roll onto your back, and you try desperately to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Sorry I fell asleep,” you say, and Wonwoo shrugs, lifting a hand to run through his hair. 
“It’s all good.”
And that’s that.
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You watch as Wonwoo games from your spot on his bed, his fingers clicking so fast it makes your head spin. You’re supposed to go out for something to eat soon, but he’d begged you to let him finish one more game. You’d pouted, but you don’t really mind waiting. 
You flop down on his bed, arms falling dramatically out to your sides. It’s been a long few weeks as you and your friends prep for your final papers and exams. The only time you’ve been able to see anyone is when you eat together, and Wonwoo is no exception. It’s been a week or so since you saw him last, and you wish the sight of him would stop making you feel the way it does. That doesn’t seem likely anytime soon, considering that when he’d opened the door tonight, his greeting smile alone had rendered you breathless. Lately, you’re more excited to see Wonwoo than a kid in a candy store, and you’re not sure what you're supposed to do about it.
Because Wonwoo doesn’t like you like that.
“Alright, GamerGirl17. I’m out. Good game.”
Your ears perk up at the username. GamerGirl17. You hear about her from Wonwoo all the time. Apparently, he’s made friends with one of the top players in his favourite game. You can’t believe you’re jealous of an online friend, but you happen to know through Wonwoo that she only lives a couple of hours away. Maybe they were dating already and Wonwoo just hadn’t told anyone? 
Wonwoo regales you with the mission the two of them had just completed as you walk to the restaurant, explaining why it had been so important to finish. You’re not a gamer yourself, but Wonwoo always listens to you talk about your niche hobbies, so you’re always willing to listen to him. 
Except today, apparently, because for some reason you’re more irritated than usual about the topic of Miss Gamer Girl. 
“Have you asked her out?” 
You interrupt Wonwoo mid-speech. You don’t look at him as you ask, but you can tell he’s surprised by the way he stumbles a bit, catching himself before he trips into a garden of freshly blooming flowers. 
“Huh? Who?”
You glance at him as you near the burger place. “GamerGirl17.”
Wonwoo’s footsteps slow, and you raise your eyebrows at him. He doesn’t say anything else for a minute as you enter the restaurant. It isn’t until you’ve sat down and ordered drinks that he answers you, and you clench your fists in an attempt to stay calm.
“I’m not going to ask her out,” Wonwoo says, and you meet his gaze. He looks embarrassed to say it.
“Why? You like her, no?”
Wonwoo’s mouth opens and closes a bit. He looks down and away from you, suddenly finding something on his empty plate far more interesting. “Um,” he tries again, “I’m not really interested in… in dating anyone right now, I guess?” 
Your heart sinks as you try to decide if that’s better or worse for you. You think worse.
Ouch.
”Oh,” you reply with a slow nod. You clear your throat. “That’s cool, then. I just wasn’t sure, that’s all.”
Your food arrives soon after, and you try to push past the awkward conversation by asking for pictures of Wonwoo’s parents’ new puppy. It works to distract him, but you don’t forget his comment. 
I’m not interested in anyone right now.
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“I’m sorry for the last minute notice,” you offer as you wait by Wonwoo’s door. “I didn’t know I left it here.”
He hums in acknowledgement as he grabs your cardigan from the back of his chair. “It’s all good.” 
You try to ignore the once over he gives you as he hands you the sweater. You’re dressed up, and you feel a bit embarrassed under his gaze, though you’re not sure why. “Thanks.”
“Where…” Wonwoo trails off, and you watch as he leans against the doorframe. He’s gathering his thoughts, and you hate that he’s got you feeling nervous for no reason, even now when you’re about to go on your first date in months. You know you look nice dressed up in your cute flower pattern outfit for spring, but you feel so shy when he looks at you. “Where are you going?” 
“Um,” you clear your throat, “Kwan set me up on a date with a friend of his.”
Wonwoo’s eyes widen, and he straightens. You wish you could disappear into the floor. “Oh.”
”Yeah.” Your cheeks are on fire. You need to leave, now. You pretend to glance at your phone as you say, “I should probably get going.” You hold up the cardigan. “Thanks for the missing piece of my outfit.” 
As you turn to leave, your eyes squeeze shut briefly. It hurts to know he doesn’t want you in the same way, but you think you’ve just officially confirmed it. You inhale a shaky breath, willing the tears to remain at bay as you descend the stairs to the lobby. 
You’ve almost reached the front door when you hear footsteps rapidly approaching behind you, and you turn in surprise. Your heart jumps into your throat when you realize it’s Wonwoo, barefoot and out of breath.
“Wonwoo, what—“
“Don’t go.”
You pause. “What?”
“Don’t go,” he repeats, and you’re confused. He can’t mean what you think he means, not after all this time. Your lip starts to tremble. 
He seems to notice, a hand lifting in your direction as he takes a step closer, and your breath catches. He doesn’t touch you, though, just looks at you for a moment, mouth opening and closing. Then he quickly glances around the room. The only other people around are the Resident Assistant at his desk and a couple of other students walking in and out of the building. After a second, Wonwoo gently takes you by the elbow and around the corner so you’re tucked away, and he’s suddenly so close that you can’t breathe. 
“When I said I didn’t want to date anyone right now, I meant anyone else. Other people.” His words are jumbled and rushed, and your eyebrows knit together.
Your back slumps to rest against the wall behind you. He’s not making sense, but you have a feeling in your stomach, and you can’t believe what you think is happening here. You can’t. “Wonwoo,” you say quietly, voice trembling, “You need to be super clear with me right now, because I can’t…”
You trail off, and Wonwoo steps even closer. The proximity causes you to straighten, every single part of you on edge. You still don’t know if it’s good or bad.
His eyes search yours. Then he speaks, voice so soft and sure that you think it surprises even him. “I meant that I don’t want to date anyone other than you.”
Your mouth falls open. You search his face, desperately trying to comprehend what he’s just said. You can tell he’s nervous, and your immediate instinct would usually be to comfort him, but right now, you can’t think. You can’t breathe. When you don’t say anything, he takes a step back. 
“I’m sorry. You can go on your date, I just… I needed you to know—“
“Wonwoo.” It comes out strangled, but you had to say something. Anything to stop him from leaving. He stops, and all you can do is shake your head in disbelief. He gives you a moment, his gaze falling to the floor, but you can’t look away from him. “If you mean that,” you say slowly, “then I’m not going anywhere.”
Wonwoo blinks back at you. It’s almost comical, how wide his eyes have gotten behind his glasses. The way you can practically see him buffering. 
“You’re not?” He finally says, and you can hear the relief in his voice. It makes your heart ache a little, because how can he not know how you feel? You shake your head. 
“Unless you have other plans.” Your voice is shy, uncertain, but he’s quick to quell your fears.
“No,” he says, firm. “I’m all yours.” 
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The second the door to his room closes, you’re in his arms. You’re feeling so unbelievably shy at all these new revelations, and you can tell he is, too. He stumbles a bit when you wrap your arms around his waist, face pressed to his chest, but he’s quick to respond. His arms pull you in tight as he laughs, and you can feel it against your cheek. 
You don’t remember the last time you felt this nervous. 
“Wonwoo?”
He hums, and you gather enough courage to pull back and look up at him. When your eyes meet, you have to resist the urge to hide your face from him again. He looks so fond. So happy.
You don’t know what you were going to say as your gaze falls to his mouth. You watch as he swallows, his fingers gently squeezing where they rest on your waist in an attempt to help you refocus, but it’s a lost cause. 
“You’d think I’ve never kissed anyone before with how nervous I am right now.”
The words are out before you can stop them, and you’re absolutely mortified. Your hands immediately lift to cover your face. A few seconds of silence pass, and then you realize that Wonwoo is laughing. 
“Oh, is that what we’re about to do? Kiss?” 
You freeze. Is he… teasing you?
“What happened to shy Wonwoo from before? Bring him back,” you whine, hands falling from your face to send him a glare. 
“He knows you like him back now, so he’s a bit more confident.” He’s grinning, and you pout. He quirks an eyebrow, one hand lifting to your jaw as he adds, “He knows now that he makes you nervous.”
You would be absolutely scandalized by his words if it weren’t for what happens next. Because suddenly he’s kissing you, and all bets are off. 
It’s not much, just a soft press of his mouth to yours, but it’s enough. 
“For the record,” Wonwoo says as he pulls away, and you vaguely register the flush of his cheeks under the dim lamplight, “you make me nervous as hell, too.”
“For the record,” you smile, “I don’t want to go on a date with anyone that’s not you, either.”
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A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on pov! Here’s the second of our Thirteen Valentines. I can only see Nana Tour Glasses!Wonwoo, all the time.
Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :)
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars @darkypooo @christinewithluv
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hpimagines · 4 months
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Professor. | T.R
(Tw: Professor x Student, Dom/sub, Slight hints of corruption, Degrading, Slight sadism/masochisim, once again probably more but it’s late and i’m tired sry)
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I wrote a bit differently than normal so let me know how you enjoy it <33
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You sat behind the table, legs slightly open, hand leading up your thigh. Not visible to anyone; besides your professor that is. Was this by accident? Of course not. You could see his eyes flicking between everyone and what lays between those thighs of yours.
His face hardened, seemingly coming to his senses before harshly clearing his throat “I have nothing left for you to do. Just go, don’t make me regret my decision to let you out early.” You could hear some students quietly celebrating, packing their things.
You follow behind them till you feel a firm hand on your shoulder. “Y/n, you stay behind. I have some work you need to do.” His face was near your ear, warm breath making you shiver. “Yes professor.”
“Go on and bring a chair beside my desk” He sat down, watching you intently. You slowly bent down grabbing your things and placing them on his desk, just as you were going to place it down you dropped it all. “Oops” you said innocently.. definitely innocently.
You bent over once more, your skirt flipping directly in the direction of your Professor. No words left his mouth, he only cleared his throat. Standing up and placing your things on his desk you look at him, “Sorry professor, I didn’t mean for that to happen”
Without hesitation his arms wrapped around your waist “Stop acting like you’re not my good little slut” He began kissing your neck, nipping at it occasionally causing soft moans to leave your mouth. “Unbutton your shirt for me doll” He spoke between wet kisses making you desperately ache for him.
“Yes, Tom”. You felt a harsh slap on your ass, loud moan escaping your mouth “Fuck I’m sorry I meant yes sir” You apologized looking him in the eyes, ass still stinging. “Watch that pretty mouth of yours doll, it’ll get you in some big trouble”
Finally unbuttoning your shirt his lips immediately met your chest, sucking at the soft skin, sure to leave marks lasting weeks. “I cannot wait till I can leave these on that sweet neck of yours” His finger began to massage your chest softly, pinching your nipple occasionally making you gasp.
“Now let’s see how much of a whore you are” He whispered in your ear, fingers meeting your aching core. “Pathetic.” He scoffed. “I knew you were a whore, so wet for me” Soft smirk appearing on his lips.
“Tell me how pathetic you are” He grabbed your chin forcing eye contact. “Go on” He demanded squeezing your face harshly. “I’m so pathetic for you sir, I’ll do anything for you” You pleaded, his grip loosened “Good girl. On your knees for me pet”
Without hesitation you did as he said and began to unbuckle his belt, looking up at him as if asking if it was okay, soft nod leaving his head and you pulled his pants down a bit, dick springing forward and hitting back against his stomach
“Put your mouth to good use for me” He brushed his thumb against your cheek softly before slapping you, “Now.” He practically growled. “Yes sir.” You took him in your mouth, hand stroking what didn’t fit. He ripped your hand off and pushed your head down harshly, making you take all of him.
Gagging harshly as he fucked your face, nothing but grunts an occasional soft ‘fuck’ leaving his lips, but you knew you were making him feel good. And that fueled you enough to keep going just for him, knowing the reward would be worth it.
Finally letting go of your head, he grabbed your hair lifting you up, catching your breath you looked him in the eyes once more. “Such a beautiful mess you are, get back to it, make me finish.”
You grabbed his dick in your hand and began pumping it quickly from the base, taking the tip and whatever else you could fit in your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue. “Oh fuck” he deeply moaned, you looked up to see his head thrown back, arms resting ons the chair, his hands gripping harshly on the handles.
Quickening your pace you could hear his breath get heavier before yanking you off of him, “Fucking stick your tongue out for me” He quickly stood up, jerking his dick in the direction of your face, he threw his head back and came all over your tongue and face.
Catching his breath he looked back down towards you, smiling up at him showing him you swallowed it all. “Such an obedient girl, now come sit on my desk.”
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Soooo how’d you like ittt! Hopefully you enjoyed it, I know it was short but if you want a part 2 in your pov of what Tom does to you just comment and like 😋 Mwah!
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livefastdriveyoung · 2 months
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Every team has a first and second driver. It is just that not every driver fulfills the role in the same way.
At Aston Martin we know Fernando is driver one. He is the more experienced driver, and right from the mouth of Lawrence Stroll himself, was brought in to make Lance a better driver so he could one day be the first driver. He does media, he's funny, and he also clearly has a mentor/mentee relationship with Lance.
I call this the mentor/mentee set up
At Mercedes, we know that Lewis is Driver one. Based on titles certainly, age almost definitely, and also because he is Lewis Hamilton. Until February, and even after, when you think Mercedes, you think Lewis. He is their better driver. He won six championships with them. He's stayed longer than most drivers stay on the whole grid. It is his through blood, sweat, and tears. George is the prince, he's set to inherit, potentially (BTW TORGER, I would like a word), and has a lot to live up to. Comparisons are hard, especially when the first driver is Lewis. I think that it's a forced proximity set-up, but they are friendly. Mostly off the track because on track they do not have their greatest moments.
I call this the King/Heir Apparent set up
At Red Bull, we know that Max is Driver one. Aside from the championships, he is just too fast. Every time one of the other drivers who drove alongside him was brought up to Horner or Helmut (YIKES to both), they would compare where they raced to Max. It is unattainable, and isolating. Until Checo. Checo didn't think he was going to be able to drive after BWT. He didn't have a contract, he was a middle of the pack driver, Mexico's son, and his story was supposed to end there. The Red Bull contract was a dream, but for all of the weird behavior some of y'all have with him (again, he's had his problems but the racism and idiot syndrome some apply to him is also NOT OK) he's not an idiot. He knows he's on a limited contract, he knows he's no spring chicken. Hearing him talk about next year, he knows he's very likely out of a contract. But he doesn't let any of this impact his relationship with Max. They are teammates, Checo will do what is best for the team. Max's whole world is predominantly driving. Checo has more of a balance, and in some ways, allows Max to be young.
I call this the Sibling set up.
At Ferrari, Charles LeClerc is Driver one. He is il Predestinato, the second coming, Monaco's prince. He can do no wrong. Carlos Sainz is the second driver. In spite of the fact that he got dropped from the team, in spite of the fact that he has won them two races, he is the one that is being pushed out. But he and Charles are friends, and teammates. They've driven together for several years now. Ultimately, while Carlos has done most of the heavy lifting on his side of the garage in terms of strategy and driving, he is also the one who knows when to walk away from the fight, when to stop letting yourself get hurt by the team that should be defending you. For Charles, Ferrari is a promise to Jules, to his father, to himself. He cannot walk away. In some way, Carlos can. That's why he makes the good second driver. The second in command is the one that sees the whole picture, including the first in command, because they never look at themselves.
I call this the friends/us against the world set up.
At Mclaren, driver one is Lando Norris. An indefinite contract, the sponsors, the adoration, Lando is the golden child. But Oscar is too, sort of. They're both young, both incredibly talented. But they're young. They're doing this together. McLaren went from disaster to top of the pack last season, and they're both on this ride together. I think McLaren is going to do whatever it takes to get Lando his win, but then I think they'll split 50/50. What will happen then, I don't know.
I call this the to soon to tell set up
At Williams, Alex Albon is so clearly driver one. Last year, he scored the majority of the points, they signed him for an extended contract, and they're desperate to keep him for 2026, when the car is supposedly going to be insane. Logan is the second driver. Alex wants to be the mentor, and to some degree he is. But Logan's narrative from last season to this season has shifted dramatically. Less and less people want to see him gone, they like the American. Williams renewed him. Whether because of sponsorship or genuine interest in his improvement, I don't know. But, in the last two races, they have managed to tank Alex's reputation, and boost Logan's. You don't publicly destroy your second driver's confidence, and career potential so publicly and walk away clean. We've seen it with Red Bull and Pierre, and Alex. Both times, those two drivers walked away with insane support. Logan is now receiving the same, but I wonder if it is going to make a difference. I think that Logan talking about what is best for the team is what is keeping him going, but if you watched the newest Team Torque, you can see fatigue and some tension between him and Alex. I don't know if it is jet lag, or work, or stress, or damage to the relationship. But this is a driver relationship on a razor wire.
I call this the Icarus set up
At Alpine, it is Pierre. He gets away with murder, at least by the team. Esteban has certainly mellowed a little, but he calls Pierre out still. However, they are both miserable with the car this year, so I think they are probably commiserating. The fact they can work together after years of rivalry and blatant hurt between the two is interesting. I think that both of these men have racing above all on their heart, and they will do whatever it takes to stay there. So for now, they suffer in the car, and they are colleagues.
I call this the "there's no other choice" set up (aka forced proximity)l
At Visa CashApp, there's currently a power struggle. Daniel is Daniel. He's been second driver for a few years, he's been third driver. He's got the popularity, though it is waning, and more importantly, he's got Christian Horner's support. That, plus the fact that the team talks about Daniel's presence being about helping them improve, makes him sound like first driver. Except, Yuki has been First driver for years. He's the one who stayed through the revolving door of drivers. This is his team. Honda pays the majority of his salary. So when you bring someone in, someone who doesn't even want the seat as much as he wants the Red Bull seat, the seat that should be yours, you're not going to go down without a fight. It creates this weird tension, but then Daniel is like "I know how lucky I am to be here, I'm focused on driving here," and is already being threatened with losing the seat like Nyck was, and Yuki realizes he might never get the Red Bull seat. So you have these two guys who are fighting for the same thing, that doesn't want them.
I call this the Alone Together set up
At Sauber, it is Valtteri. He has won gps, he's former Mercedes, who used to come second usually only to Lewis. He's funny, older, a weirdo that people love and feel they know. Zhou is younger, he's dealing with the pressure of being China's only son, and the higher expectations of him. Valtteri helps keep him young and focused. He's been through the wringer, and he's teaching Zhou that it is not going to be what breaks you.
Also Mentor/Mentee except the mentors are nuts in a different way
I don't know what the hell is going on at Haas.
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greatstormcat · 4 months
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Club 141 AU
Poly141 x f!reader
Part 3
Series Masterlist
AN: I cannot stress enough that this is a work of fiction and there are parts of basic safety that are left out for the sake of narrative. In this situation extensive discussion about the use of items that could harm any participants should be carried out before starting a Scene. If a D-type ever springs something on you without you agreeing to it beforehand call red and get out of there. Consent is sexy as fuck. With that said, enjoy the show!
TW: MDNI 18+, BDSM themes, oral both m!receiving and f!receiving, knifeplay but no blood, wax play, handjob, mentions of subspace, restraints, p in v, orgasm denial, anal fingering, degradation, aftercare
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The club wasn’t open yet, but you were already in the private room upstairs with Price and Ghost ready to discuss a scene that they had planned for you. Your collar with the club’s logo proudly wrapped around your neck already. However, the conversation ended abruptly when the door burst open to the sound of yelling. Johnny and Gaz all but fall through the door, Gaz’s hands fisted into the fabric of Johnny’s shirt as he pushes the other man violently, looking ready to kill him.
With shocking speed Ghost rushes to break them up, followed by Price, the two larger men taking one combatant each and forcing them apart as they yell, spittle flying as angry words are exchanged.
“That’s enough!” Price bellows, and the two fall into a belligerent silent.
“He’s been at me all fuckin’ week!” Johnny snaps, pointing an accusing finger at Gaz, Ghost’s palm on his chest keeping him back. “Then he punches me!” A livid red mark on his cheek stands as testament to his claim.
Price grasps Gaz firmly by the back of the neck and jerks him closer to himself, talking in a low, firm tone to get him to calm down. Gaz’s shoulders are tense, rising and falling with the effort to control his temper as he leans against Price, fists clenched until the skin on his knuckles is drawn tight.
Price must ask him a question, as you see Gaz screw his face into a pained grimace and then nod, the tension falling away slightly with whatever he has agreed to.
“Simon, take him downstairs,” Price calls to the masked man who has managed to get Johnny to back down. They all look more concerned than angry at the outburst and sudden flash of violence from Gaz, as though they see the underlying issue rather than the symptom as the main issue. Ghost walks over and takes Gaz firmly by the bicep, leading him toward the door. “Wait,” Price calls, his eyes coming to rest on you with a curious expression as he puffs on his ever present cigar. “Take her with you, she can help while you work this out of his system.”
A cold shiver runs down your spine at his words, and the way Ghost looks at you with a slight tilt to his head.
“Yeah, she can alright. C’mon,” he tells you and you get up obediently to follow the pair out of the private room. You trail along behind the two men as Ghost marches down the stairs and towards the rear of the main club, which you’ve not been into yet. These are the rooms used by the club's patrons for their Scenes. An archway, usually guarded by a bouncer, leads to a long corridor lined with closed doors every few meters, and lit with same sinful red striplights as the booths of the club and artwork lines the walls showing various monochrome images of limbs bound in various ways. You can imagine the sounds that would escape these apertures when the club is open to the public, and that thought sends a hot, needy surge through your belly.
Ghost stops at a door he seems to have chosen at random and unlocks it with the set of master keys he has in his pocket, flicking the light on inside. He stands at the open doorway and gestures for Gaz to go in, then looks down at you from behind his white skull mask.
“In you go and kneel until I return,” he says firmly. With a convulsive swallow you go in, surprised to see Gaz kneeling just inside the door, palms turned upwards and resting on his heavyset thighs, head bowed. A lick of heat courses through you at the sight of him in a submissive’s pose, and your mind finally clicks into place as to what he has been sent down here for. You kneel beside him, mirroring his position and pressing the side of your thigh against his, a tiny show of support and solidarity with him for whatever maelstrom he needs to overcome.
The room is comfortably warm, clearly designed for people to be naked in here for a while. The lighting was low, the walls and carpeting a rich royal blue. A black metal rack of various implements adorned one wall, and black padded table occupied the middle of the floor, with a St Andrews cross mounted on the wall opposite a small, two seater sofa.
Ghost returns a few moments later and you watch as he enters the room, looking up through your lashes and attempting to hide the way your breath catches as you catch a glimpse of him. He has changed his clothes. Gone is the black shirt and sharply pressed suit he usually wears, replaced with stone washed jeans, ripped and worn around the knees. He is barefoot, and shirtless, displaying the full sleeve of tattoos on one arm, the expanse of muscle on his torso and arms, along with scars that you try not to look at too long. A pair of black gloves cover his hands, and a leather belt circles his waist with something secured at the small of his back that you don’t quite see. The biggest shock is the balaclava pulled over his face, a dented and dirtied plastic skull over his eyes, and painted white lines running over the fabric covering his chin. Your heart almost stops, he looks terrifying, and you hear the faintest of groans from Gaz at the sight.
“Sergeant,” Ghost barks, and Gaz stiffens in response as you flinch slightly.
“Yessir,” he replies primly, his chin snaps up and he stares directly ahead, not at the masked man.
“Strip,” Ghost instructs. “You too,” he gruffly tells you, and you carefully move to comply alongside Gaz. Soon the two of you are kneeling again, exposed to Ghost completely and you can see the telltale shift in the soft blue denim of his jeans that speaks to his arousal. Gaz, too, carries a half hard cock between his spread thighs.
“You’ll both address me as Sir whenever I speak to you,” Ghost announces, standing in front of the two of you and adjusting the cuff of one of his gloves idly, causing his biceps to flex. “You both know your safewords, yes?”
“Yes, Sir,” you both answer in unison, receiving a satisfied hum from him. Ghost uses a pair of interlinked plastic zip ties to secure Gaz’s wrists behind his back, then does the same to you with a pair of softer, leather cuffs. With a firm grip he wraps his fingers into your hair and anchors his hands into it, maneuvering your head towards his erection, your mouth falling open without need for instruction. But he stops you a fraction of an inch from the end of his length.
“Look at that, Sergeant,” he purrs, shame heating your cheeks. “She’s eager to take my cock. Don’t you wish she was after yours?” He teases Gaz, the creaking of his restraints answering for him before he speaks.
“Yes sir,” he grits out, erection leaking and hanging loose between his spread thighs. Ghost pulls your head forward then, slowly sliding his dick over your tongue and into the back of your throat, and you can do nothing to stop the moan that claws its way out of you as he does. He holds your head still and angles his hips, slowly dragging his length back across your tongue before pushing it back in again, nudging at the ring of muscle at the back of your throat. You can hear the harsh change in his breath as it rasps through the fabric of his mask, and you consciously open your throat for him.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises you, pushing harder and slipping into your throat. Gaz can see the bulge forming in your neck and huffs out a shaky breath, his untouched erection aching and drooling onto the floor. He is forced to watch as Simon languidly fucks your throat, before pulling out and letting you cough and catch your breath.
He turns to Gaz, cocking his head slightly and chuckling at the desperation on his face.
“Open,” he orders, and Gaz obeys without question, letting Ghost place a heavy palm on his head and push him down to swallow the wet length of his cock. “Fuck, it’s been too long since I had you like this, Sergeant.” Ghost’s eyes burn fiercely as he looks down at the man sucking him off, fingers curling into the curls on his scalp possessively, murmuring praises that get him taking his cock deeper and deeper each time.
It looks like Ghost is close to the edge, his knees bend slightly and he thrusts his hips in time with Gaz’s greedy gulps, but he steps back suddenly. Both men are left breathing heavily, and a trail of saliva hangs from Ghost’s flushed cock to Gaz’s full lips for a moment, catching the light.
“Stand up, both of you,” the masked man grunts as he gathers himself, and you follow Gaz’s lead carefully to get to your feet with your hands still cuffed behind your back. Once your are both standing Ghost reaches to the small of his back, and a soft pop indicates something being unfastened at his belt. Slowly he brings his hand forward again, the soft light of the room's lamps glinting off of sharp, vicious steel.
Your chest constricts as he steps closer to Gaz, lifting the knife to the shorter man’s face. You don’t know how you know, but you know the knife is real, sharp, deadly. Ghost runs the blade along Gaz’s cheek, then jaw, down the column of his throat making his Adam’s apple bob in response. Gaz holds himself completely still, barely breathing as the cold, glittering steel traces across his skin and muscles, further down his torso.
His eyes are half lidded, dark and a thousand miles away as Ghost draws the edge of the draw along the underside of Gaz’s erect cock, which twitches in response, a pearl of clear fluid gathering at its swollen tip. Your heart pounds in your mouth as you watch, your pussy clenching around nothing.
Finally, Ghost steps behind Gaz and slices through the plastic cuffs and sheathes the blade before checking in with you both. When he is satisfied you are good to continue he arranges Gaz lying on the padded table on his back and instructs you to position yourself over the prone man’s face. You obey, thighs slick against his cheeks, and you clit twitches and throbs when his breath ghosts over your wet folds. “If you wanna get your dick in her, you have to earn it,” Ghost explains. “Good boys get rewarded, and you’ve been a little shit. Take your punishment and you can get your end wet.”
“Yes sir,” Gaz answers, his voice soft and deep.
“For now, you get her off with your mouth.”
Ghost’s hand presses your shoulders down, forcing you to rest down on his face, and Gaz immediately licks at you, his hands wrapped around your soft thighs. His dark, hooded eyes lock onto yours, holding your gaze as he presses his tongue up to your clit and slowly circles it, before lapping through your folds. You cannot hide how wet you are already just from having a cock in your mouth and watching their interactions.
The sound of a lighter flicking draws your attention, just as a flame flares in Ghost’s hand and illuminates his masked face momentarily. He lights a purple candle in a large glass holder, a lip for pouring on one edge. Wax play, you think to yourself and your skin prickles at the thought of the hot wax.
Ghost moves behind you where you can’t see, heading towards Gaz’s bare stomach. You know when the molten material falls onto the exposed skin, as Gaz flinches and whines against your pussy, but his tongue never stops working you. His breathing is heavy, hot against your sensitive skin, and the sounds of his pained moans and whimpers mix with the feeling of him teasing your nerves.
With a slow movement you turn and glance over your shoulder, watching as Ghost pours a dribble of molten wax from the candle in his gloved hand, down onto the dark canvas of Gaz’s stomach. The lurid purple of the wax stands out against the tender skin beneath, creating a beautiful image you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
Every time wax lands and hardens on Gaz’s skin, his cock bounces. Ghost’s thick fingers wrap around the twitching member, pumping it slowly, not enough to give him any real release but enough to pull moans from him, vibrating against your cunt. With his other hand, Ghost pours another glob of wax, mixing the pleasure and pain.
“Eyes forward,” he growls, and you realise you’ve been caught.
Gaz pushes his tongue into you, a starved animal, lost in the sensations and only held together by Simon’s commanding voice. You drift under his spell too, pliant and nothing but a tool for him to use for Gaz’s torture and reward. It is utterly dehumanizing and deliciously freeing at the same time.
The familiar tension of an orgasm builds.
“Please… please, can I come, Sir?” You beg breathlessly, hips beginning to buck and grind.
“Ah, you remembered, good girl,” Ghost praises you, pushing you closer to the edge. He comes to stand at the head of the table to watch you writhing and panting, so close to coming undone. His arms cross over his bare chest, cock straining behind the fabric of his fly. “You have permission to come.”
You cry out almost immediately, pleasure spiking through you like a snapped band, and Gaz greedily licks up your juices, hitting your clit again and again.
“That’s enough, Sergeant,” he snaps and Gaz stops without hesitation, face glistening beneath you and eyes hazy. Your own brain feels filled with dark clouds of something wonderful, your body warm and floating in space.
“Good boy, time for you to have your reward,” Simon declares from behind his mask. He rearranges you both, and you are soon on your back under Gaz, his elbows resting either side of your head and hips between your thighs. The anticipation is electric, your pussy still throbbing from your orgasm, and the thought of his cock being inside you spurring a fresh, intense wave of arousal.
“How much do you want that pretty cunt around your cock?” Ghost whispers into Gaz’s ear loud enough for you to hear.
“So fuckin’ much, Sir,” Gaz groans in response.
Ghost reaches between your bodies, grasping his hard length.
“Not yet,” he chuckles darkly. “Show me what you want to do to her first.”
It looks like Gaz wants to argue for a moment, but thinks better of it, and begins to move his hips, fucking into Simon’s gloved fist instead. Frustrated grunts and gasps fall from his lips, and his eyes look down at you with longing. The emptiness inside of you screams to be filled and you can’t help but whimper in desperation, your own hips shifting.
“Steady, kitten,” you’re warned, and lay still again. Slowly, Ghost brings his hand closer to your body, almost aligning Gaz’s thrusts with your entrance until he opens his hand and lets Gaz suddenly fill you. He fucks you like a caged animal, fast and hard as his control snaps the moment your wet heat envelopes him. The wet reverberations of skin hitting skin bounce from the walls, mixed with your cries as your body comes alive once again. Quickly his movements stutter, warning of his impending release.
“Do not come, Sergeant,” Ghost remonstrates him as he stalks around the table. “Do. Not.”
Sweat beads and streaks down Gaz’s face as he holds back his orgasm, thighs trembling and teeth bared with enormous strain. The cords of his neck stand out in stark relief. Your own pleasure surges and builds inside you as his hard cock bullies your soaked cunt repeatedly, and your body tightens around him, sending him closer to the edge.
“Hold it, Sergeant,” Ghost growls, running the heel of his gloved hand along the other man’s spine from his neck down to the curling round of his hips. You don’t see it but Ghost caresses Gaz’s ass, squeezing the firm meat of it tenderly, before slipping a lubed digit into the furl of his hole. A deep tremor rushes through Gaz, and the air is punched from his lungs at the sudden intrusion.
“Good boy,” Ghost growls, slowly curling and uncurling his finger.
“You can both come in ten… nine… eight…“ The urge to orgasm builds like a tsunami as Simon begins to countdown, panic rushing through you that you might not be able to hold out. “Seven… six… five…” A strangled whine creeps from between Gaz’s clenched teeth, his massive frame shaking almost violently as he continues to thrust into you. He drops his forehead to yours, the movements of his hips becoming more erratic as Simon probes his ass whilst your pussy clenches around his cock.
“Four… three… two…” You vision becomes dark at the edges, you’re holding your breath and your back has arched off the table, the first cresting wave of your orgasm poised and ready to descend when that sacred syllable is uttered. The faintest tang of blood warns you that you’ve bitten into your bottom lip.
“One,” Ghost rubs his finger sharply against Gaz’s prostate and the two of you cry out as you both let go in unison. Your inner walls spasm and pulse, milking Gaz’s cock as he fills you with his release, his abdominals clenching and curling tightly into you. Liquid heaven courses through your veins, washing away all thought as you cling onto Gaz between your thighs.
“Are you okay?” Ghost asks when you finally open your eyes, and you manage to murmur an acknowledgement to him. Gaz trembles and heaves in air, fully spent, and eyes rolling as Simon eases him off of you and then onto the small sofa.
The door opens and Johnny peeks carefully around the frame, seeing Simon who nods, granting him permission to enter.
“Take care of Gaz for me,” he directs him, before turning his attentions back to you.
“Aye, Sir,” Johnny intones and moves quickly to Gaz, all thought of their earlier fight gone as he tends to his friend, talking softly and pulling him against his shoulder as Gaz comes down once more.
“How did he…?” You start to ask in confusion as Ghost helps you off the table, wrapping his arm around your waist to support you.
“There’s a call button on the weapons rack, goes to the bar and upstairs. Kind of like a panic alarm,” he explains gently. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m great, but how about Gaz?” You ask, trying to peer around Ghost’s huge body. With a chuckle he guides you over to sit beside Gaz, who is wrapped in a thick black towel and drinking something Johnny has brought with him in a sports bottle.
“Just give him a minute, hen,” Johnny says softly, rubbing gentle circles on Gaz’s arm. “Looks like Si really gave him what he needed.”
After a few minutes the light returns to Gaz’s eyes and he smiles at you wearily, pulling you in for a tight hug.
“Yeah, I’m solid,” he tells you, then thanks Ghost.
“No problem, just don’t let it build up like that next time,” Ghost rumbles. “You know to ask if you need something.”
“Yeah, sorry for trying to coldcock you,” Gaz apologizes to Johnny, patting his shoulder firmly. Once the two of you are cleaned up and in a fit state, they take you both upstairs to recover for the evening. Later, Price pulls you aside to continue the interrupted conversation….
——————————————————————————————————————-
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msfantasy-comics · 5 months
Text
The Little Three
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Platonic!Damian Wayne x WonderGirl!Reader x Platonic!Jon Kent
Summary: A short story on “really want to see just a cute little platonic relationship with a reader who’s wonder woman’s daughter with damian wayne and jon kent. like a mini trinity goofing around while bruce, clark and diana are like “oh hell 😐”
A/n: Inspired by this post
Masterlist - Tip Jar
“Obviously Jon will be the best leader.” Y/n declares, finger outright pointing towards the half kryptonian. Damian’s snorts at such a blasphemous proclamation.
“That is ridiculous, I am obviously the best suited to be a leader. If you two went on a mission by yourselves you would not even develop a sound strategy. Jon would come up with a half-baked plan which will quickly crumble, while you would just go to the location and wreck havoc until you win.” Damian accuses, a signature bat frown now adorning his features.
Y/n just rolls her eyes with a groan. “It’s part of my strategy to overwhelm the enemy… it always works.” Which only grates on Damian’s nerves.
“You are only proving my point further. It is reckless and stupid. You cannot be successful by being a brute.” A high pitched gasp escapes, Y/n’s hands now slamming down onto the table.
“Shut up Damian! Just because you don’t like my battle strategy, doesn’t mean you’re better.” Smirking he crosses his arms over his chest, feet now kicked up on top of the hologram table.
“I am better than you, because I am smarter, stronger and better trained than you.” Jon slouches further back into his seat, nervousness creeping up his spin at the familiar dispute.
“Guys… let’s just calm down -“
“Oh shut up you annoying little rat! How about a game of capture the flag to prove who should be the teams leader. Whoever captures the flag wins!” Y/n asserts, fist outstretched waiting for Jon and Damian to fist bump in agreement.
“You are on Little Wonder.” Damian stretches his fist out, bumping the young wonders knuckles with his own. Y/n only clenches her jaw in irritation.
“Don’t call me that, Shorty!”
“Not all of us are born with Amazonian genetics freak!” Y/n and Damian are just about pressing noses, now playing an unspoken game of chicken.
Jon continues to stand behind them pinching the bridge of his nose. The soft ticks and beeps sounding off from the technology around them. The Justice watchtower now shifting and readjusting before settling back to a set position. “Guys… I’m not encouraging this I’m out.” Jon crosses his arms, launching himself backwards into the leather seat again, he turns his attention back to the holographic table, checking for his Dad’s location and only hoping that the pin is moving back towards the tower. Y/n and Damian only meet eyes with a knowing smirk.
“Jon’s the flag?” Y/n asks only getting a small nod from Damian.
“On your mark.” Damian says which only makes Jon’s eye bulge.
“Guys - stop! I said I didn’t want to be part of your games!” The two devils only smile as if not hearing his refusal.
“Get set.” Y/n says, the two now shifting their weight to the balls of their heels. Jon growls twisting and taking off in a quick dash.
“Go!” Damian and Y/n both shout taking off at inhuman speeds, eager to catch their human(?) flag.
Damian pulls out his bat gun, launching a wire and hook into the long wall in an attempt to quick zip line towards Jon only for Y/n to grab the wire and snap it with her bare hands.
“Leave me alone!” Jon shouts, the sonic sound of his shout vibrating the objects around him.
“You’re mine!” Y/n springs out, grabbing the corner of Jon’s jacket only for Jon to step away launching Y/n head first into the large computers and screens with a loud crack. The screens glass sprays across the floor, the Amazonian only jumps up and bounds towards Jon without a second to spare.
“Launch emergency Kryptonite!” Damian shouts into his suit mic now throwing lethal batarangs and recalling the projectiles. Jon only evading the objects by mere millimeters.
The projectiles where only continuously puncturing the steel walls and solid objects around. Sparks fly as Damian hits an electric reserve.
The red emergency lights now blaring a warning.
But the three pay no mind to the danger alarm, Y/n and Damian too absorbed in capturing their objective. Jon too distracted to not getting injured.
————
“Code Red, Watchtower is under attack.” An AI Voice announces into the earpieces of the Justice team. “Permission to counter attack the enemy by any means necessary?”
“The kids!” Superman exclaims, Batman redirecting the route of the Batship.
“Permission denied.” Batman grumbles into his mic. Worry now coating the features of Clark.
“What foe could be attacking the tower right now?” Diana voices, hoping that the answer will relieve some distress. Batman only grumbles a reply.
“Probably the kids.”
————-
Arriving to the tower the big three stand at the teleport entry, eyeing the mass damage that has occurred on the tower in the short moments they were gone. All of the screens are cracked and ruin, the holographic projector now laying on the floor in a broke heap. Sparks flying away from live wires.
“I caught him first!” Damian shouts, yanking Jon towards him.
“What are you stupid?! I caught him first!” Y/n shouts yanking Jon into her grasp. Jumping up she locks her legs around his torso, arms wrapping firmly around Jon’s neck in a lock. “You can claim him if you wretch my dead body off of him.”
“Fine.” Damian says coldly, taking a step back and launching himself onto the two making them tumble over with a loud thud. Yelps and grasps coming from the three now strewn a-crossed the floor. Jon now trapped between his two friends, thrashing limbs.
“What is going on here?” Diana yells making Y/n instantly release her grip and scrambling to get up only to slam into the floor as Damian’s grip is still wrapped around her ankle. The three slowly look up at their parents faces who are angry to say the least. “How could you let this happen.”
Y/n kicks her foot at Damian, before finally standing up, Y/n slouches under the angry gaze of her mother. “We couldn’t decide on a leader so we made it a competition of capture the flag… Jon’s the flag.” Diana’s eye twitched at the absurdity of your words. The watch tower was destroyed because their super kids decided to settle an argument with ‘Capture the Flag.’
“And added inflicted millions of dollars in damages in the process. You’re all in big trouble.” Clark reprimands, his usual friendly demeanour now replaced with stern anger.
“But Dad! I didn’t even want to be part of this stupid game!” Jon whines which only makes Y/n and Damian shoot Jon a silent deathly look.
“A good leader would’ve prevented a dispute in their team.” Clark reprimands Jon which only makes him bow his head in shame.
“You’re all clearly not ready for a serious role in the hero’s league if you plan of settling disputes with childish games and inflicting mass damage in the process - Clark, Diana and I will re-evaluate your readiness. Until then, the Little Three team is banned from missions.”
“What?! This is so unfair!” Y/n exclaims in exasperation. The hero’s team banned before they even got started. They hadn’t even picked a leader for crying out loud.
“What is unfair is that Jon, Damian and yourself have destroyed perfectly good resources all for a game.” Clark reprimands. “Jon your grounded, you will be staying home for the rest of the summer completing all farm chores including mine.” Jon groans at his punishment.
It was Bruce’s turn to supply Damian a punishment. “No vigilante work until you move stocks to cover the cost of your handiwork.” Damian stands stick straight, accepting his punishment without resistance.
“Yes father.”
Diana leans over, her brows knitting together in irritation. “Listen here missy!” Before Diana could utter another word, Y/n’s hands reach out to her mothers face, pressing her fingers into her mothers pinched brows, as if making Diana not frown would resolve her anger. Y/n begins to jut her lip out and stare up at her mother with big shining eyes.
“I’m sorry Mama, please don’t be mad.” Her soft and delicate voice pulling at Diana’s heartstrings.
“…it’s okay baby…” Diana folds instantly to her adorable daughter. “Just don’t do it again.” She coos giving her precious girl a big kiss on the cheek. Y/n only looks at her fellow mates with the cheekiest of grins.
The two boys stare in disbelief as Y/n escape parental punishment, especially as she is the instigator of the incident. Jon decides to take the plunge. “Dad-“
“Don’t even try it son.”
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itsphoenix0724 · 5 months
Text
Can You Kill A God? (Azriel x Reader)
Summary: No one will ever forget why you are Death's queen ever again.
Based on another fic I wrote which you can read here
Warnings: Gore, blood, the reader is a little sinister but I love it, SMUT (unprotected sex, breeding kink?, oral: m and f receiving)
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: I've been really missing Death!Az and Life!Reader recently. Also, I've had an obsession with Get In The Water from Epic the musical and this is what spawned. I did set in Ancient Greece so I did mention a Greek city. Happy New Year!!!
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It started as a petty slight. Some stupid mortal king had said they feared Death more than War, so the god had raged a challenge. Your husband doesn’t normally involve himself in other matters, he had no need.
Eris was irrelevant to him.
Of all the other gods he is the only one who was inevitable, who would be permanent despite all odds. Azriel didn’t even feel the need to acknowledge the God of War, but he had started harming your creations, which was unacceptable in his eyes.
The souls had come into the underworld brutalized, they curled into your lap as you wiped their tears with the gossamer of your gown and told you that they had been sent as a message. You shed your own tears as you escorted them to eternal paradise and Death’s eyes went dark with promise as he cupped your jaw. 
Then he prepared for battle. 
You had to return to the overworld soon, the last phases of winter thawing into springtime greenery. He would sort this mess out before you leave his protection realm. Azriel gathered his allies and they outfitted themselves for combat. He took care to strap the armor to your chest, the gauntlets on your arms, and around your calves, kissing his devotion before securing every piece of metal. You did the same to him taking extra care to protect his heart.
The sight of you almost sent him to his knees.
There are still flowers wound through your hair, nightshade and belladonna make a deadly crown, and the golden glow that seems to permanently surround you bounces off the obsidian steel of your armor.
The battle had been bloody and long, it felt as if you’ve been here for days. Your dress was torn, the cloth shredded around your feet. Blood covered your entire front, caked and cracked into your skin. 
You cannot kill a god. 
But that doesn’t make the battle any less gruesome. 
Nothing would touch you thanks to Death looming over your shoulder. Every attack that may have hit you was deflected by your husband and vice-versa until the God of War catches onto this little tactic and baits Azriel by attacking you. Az had jumped in front of you, a wall of shadows blasting the God of War back a few feet at the risk of wounding him. 
But Death had fallen, red blood spilling sickly and sweet onto the fresh spring grass. It reminds you of a splitting pomegranate as the red seeps out and stains the dirt, every god in the field halts their battle and watches 
You fall to your knees in front of him, vines starting to curl around him as your magic begs to erupt from your chest to protect what’s yours. Eris gloats from his spot hovering in the air, laughing at Azriel struggling to breathe around the blood coming up his throat. The thorn vines wrap around Azriel to ward off any who might try to weaken him further as you rise to your feet. 
“Flower,” he wheezes around a cracked rattle in his throat, shaking his head and trying to sit up. You shush him gently pouring golden light into his chest that does nothing. You are not the Goddess of Healing, life will never stop death, so Az will have to heal on his own. War still mocks your shushing, your tears, calling your magic pathetic.
The earth beneath you starts to rumble. 
You are the Goddess of Life, the Goddess of the Earth, the World Shaker, and you will make every God here remember why you are Queen of the Underworld. 
Rising to your feet, the earth grumbles and shudders under the very force of your erratic heartbeat. War made a mistake waging this battle in Sparta, his arrogance will be his downfall. Your entire body shakes with rage as you stare at Eris from his spot in the air. 
“Get on the ground Eris.” Your voice rumbles in time with the splitting of the earth and War widens his eyes at the splintering ground. Yet, his overconfidence keeps him hovering out of your reach.
“Go home, Little Goddess” He drawls, “You’ve been beaten.” he spits at you with venom in his eyes—a dark, dark laugh bubbles out of your chest like molten lava. 
“If you don’t come down here I will collapse every wall in your city, and kill everyone in it.” You glare up at him, and he laughs shaking his head in disbelief. “Don’t believe me?” You quirk a brow and the rise around the city starts to shake. “Tell me God, what happens when every last worshiper of yours is dead?” His eyes widen in fear then. 
Because that is how you kill a god, you force them into the darkness of being forgotten until they waste away like little more than salt in water. 
Faster than a breath thorn-covered vines shoot from the earth and surround War kicking and screaming, golden light begins to glow brightly from your eyes as your fury hauls him to the ground.
 People seem to forget that Death is the calm acceptance of something coming to an end. Life joins this realm wailing its existence to the stars, Life can be a very violent thing.
You will break him beyond repair, you can’t hear the sounds of Eris choking on his blood, the only noise in your head is the dull thumping of a war drum. He fights back with as much power as he can muster, but you’re barely trembling with the effort it takes to hold him there. The sinister in your smile reflects in his shining, terrified eyes. 
How pretty would it be if lilies sprouted from his lungs? 
Someone may be calling your name but you can’t hear anything, the tunnel vision threatening to collapse you entirely. You might not be able to kill him like this but regrowing all of his organs certainly would take some time. Feeling the golden power writhe and wrap around his heart, begging you to let it off its leash and crush, but it’s then that you feel the cooling darkness wrap around your shoulders. Death sweeps his chill gaze over War after rising to his feet. You still hold the line firm, one arm shooting out to block Azriel from any further advancement. The light in your eyes still refuses to dim, but Az wraps a hand around your jaw delicately turning your face toward him. 
“You’ve made your point My Love,” the steady weight of his hand calms the rising heat in your blood. “It’s time to let him go.” Azriel didn’t particularly care if you ripped Eris apart and scattered him to the seas, but he knew the guilt would threaten to drag you into the abyss entirely. The light dims, and you drop your hand. Eris falls to the ground like a puppet dropped from strings, coughing blood like shiny red rubies onto the grass. You’re only looking at Az, the wash of reassurance running over your body as you finally process that he’s whole–that he’s standing. 
He’s alright. 
Death doesn’t deign to even look at War as shadows come around you like dark silk, and you’re back in his realm. He finally sags into your arms as he lets the facade drop, the real pain and exhaustion catching up to him. Az thinks you might call for a medic, but it feels like someone is holding his head underwater. The silk of the sheets feels distant against his skin as your hand strokes his face, and he finally lets his eyes slip closed. 
Azriel sleeps for four days. 
He wakes in your bedroom, your presence absent, but a pitcher of water remains on the bedside table. The armor he’d donned for battle had been stripped from him, replaced by a black chiton that fell loosely around his chest and hips. He chugs half the water in one go as his power reaches out frantically for you, his heart settles when he feels like your golden aura, and he rises to set off looking. 
He finds you beneath an ever-blooming willow tree in Asphodel fields, reading animatedly to a group of children, the golden reeds bellowing in the fresh spring air. They scatter as he leans against the trunk, giggling and laughing as they chase each other into the meadow. You’re overjoyed when you see your husband, throwing his arms around him and crashing his lips to yours. 
“Are you all right?” You mutter, gently pushing back the curtain of black hair that had fallen into his eyes. You’re so delicate with him, Azriel feels his heart skip two beats in his chest. 
“I’m content,” He hums lazily dropping his nose into your hairline, the lingering smell of lilies floods his senses and calms his nerves as it always does. He nudges his nose to your pulse point before biting gently at your fluttering heartbeat. 
“Azriel,” your voice reverberates into his chest, twinning heartbeats thudding together. “You’re still injured.” he continues his exploration of your neck, nipping his displeasure at your attempt to coddle him. Your body shudders as he finds a sensitive point, and you can feel his smug smile at your jugular. 
“Let me worship my Goddess in peace,” he rumbles relishing in the feel of your skin and the golden warmth of the fresh sun. He drops to his knees in the dirt, pressing devotion into the curve of your knee as your back thumps against the bark of the willow. He smirks as flowers bloom around you in time with your bashfulness, red poppies matching the pretty flush on your cheeks. 
“The souls,” You whip your head from side to side as he runs his hands along the sensitive skin of your thighs. He tilts his head in contemplation, hazel eyes reflecting the warmth like molten gold.
You feel his power ripple around you and a blanket of silence covers the area. Everything goes quiet, no birds chirping or animals running through the surrounding forest, even the rustling of the grass in the wind falls silent under his command. 
“No one will bother us now,” Azriel muses, continuing his travels, you squirm under his attention as he climbs higher and higher. 
“You’ve been asleep for four days,” You barely get the words out as he runs his thumb delicately over the apex of your thighs, enjoying the feel of you under his hands. “You should really eat something,” He growls his frustration as he bites a dark mark on the sensitive skin. 
“I’m trying too, if you would stop interrupting me.” His eyes turn almost black as he focuses his attention on your core again, brushing aside the scrap of silk covering you. Az lets out a guttural moan as your scent floods his senses.  He dives in then, feasting on you like he needs it more than air.
He’s wasted precious time with you since he’s been asleep, winter is caving to the sweet spring, but it seems the cold is listening to his prayers and holding on just a little longer. He licks straight to your center, tasting the honeyed sweetness as it floods his mouth. No matter how many centuries you spend together you are always still so responsive to him, you’re twitching and squirming against the tree just about to tumble over that edge when you yank his head away to pull him to his feet. His eyes are glazed over and your slick is dripping down his chin, you haul his mouth to yours tasting yourself on his tongue. All of a sudden his back is against the tree and you sink to your knees before him, tearing at belt holding up the fabric around his waist.
It seems that you’ve missed him as well. 
You look up at him through batting lashes, and Azriel strokes his hand along your jaw in adoration. You take him in your mouth and Az feels like molten iron has been poured down his spine, white-hot pleasure blinding all of his senses. Death’s knees begin to buckle under Life’s ministrations, the smug look in her eyes adding to the crumbling of his resolve. He has always laid everything he is at your feet, intimacy is no different. You stroke the rest of won’t fit in your mouth in time with the bobbing of your head and he feels weightless. 
Your tongue strokes along a vein on the side of his cock and he explodes almost embarrassingly quickly. It appears that four days had taken more of a toll on him than anticipated. He scoops you into his arms and in a blink you’re in your bedroom. The absurdly large bed stretches across the expanse of the room, the open windows letting in the sun. Azriel tosses you on the cool silk sheets as he stalks on top of you. His lips collide with yours again as he slowly draws one hand up your thigh and draws your underwear down, throwing it somewhere behind him. He thrusts into you in one long motion, and the searing pleasure sends a rumble of power that shakes the very foundation of the palace. 
“Calm Flower,” he whispers as he hits the spot inside of you that threatens to launch you into oblivion. “You’ll bring the walls down around us.” You let out a laugh that bubbles into a moan as he continues his languid drive into you over and over. Eventually, Azriel starts to ram into you as his restraint falters like a splitting thread, toying his fingers over the apex of your thighs with musician’s grace as he bites at your neck. He flips you over at lightning speed, your ass in the air as he drives your further into the mattress, your moans muffling into the pillows as your try to keep up with the relentless tempo. You finally tip over the edge right before Az spills himself inside you, your combined release makes him let out a roar so loud the birds flee from their nests in the trees.
He watches himself spill out of you, thrusting it back inside with two of his fingers.
You whine in overstimulation as he crooks his fingers inside of you, he lets out an amused huff as he gently strokes your shaking thighs. Azriel waves a hand, and you hear the water in the bathtub start to run. You stroke a gentle path through his night-dark hair as he leans into your touch. 
Yes, spring may be coming soon. The time with your husband dwindles to sparse moments in a dying winter fire, but as Az scoops you into his arms to take you to the bath you enjoy every single moment you have left.
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