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#I just need a rest and to take the pressure off myself.
wayfayrr · 8 months
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I'm just gonna vent a little here so feel free to ignore this <3
Sorry there's still a bit of a delay on the writing I've been doing - I've been working on them but honestly, I'm kinda need to take a tiny break from writing. I don't know if it'll be just a day or two or a week or two at the moment but I didn't want to drop off with complete silence so here I go. I hate to say this but my mental health has kind of tanked recently. I want to say that it's due to being in so much when I was sick and call it at that, but I know it's more than that that really? I'm not going to get into it here. Putting pressure on myself to get these written pretty fast isn't helping me at the minute. I'll delete this later but I didn't want to just do this without a word. I'll see you soon!!
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ms-demeanor · 7 months
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I think the eight alarms thing is usually a maladaptation. You've trained your brain to ignore the eight alarms because you kept avoiding the training of willpower following the first alarm would require. I think some sleep therapy might help?
Hey so first of all fuck you, thanks.
Second: I love it when you read literature on sleep disorders, especially if it's on sleep disorders among folks with ADHD, and you see time and time again "when allowed to sleep on their preferred schedule subjects maintained healthy, normal, restorative sleep cycles" and "effects were not lasting without ongoing intervention; resetting the sleep schedule is a permanent effort."
Like, if I sleep *great* from 6am to 2pm and I wake up feeling rested and alert with no special help but I need to turn off the lights in my house and shut down all electronics at 8pm and beam a spotlight into my face starting at 5am to wake up at seven and feel exhausted all day, I think perhaps it is not actually my sleep cycle that is wrong it is perhaps society that is wrong.
BELIEVE ME, when I find the job that pays well and has decent insurance that lets me exist as a cheerful nighttime ghoul I am jumping on that with both feet. But until then I literally feel better getting six hours of sleep and occasionally sleeping so hard that i can't hear my alarms because of chronic sleep deprivation than I do turning off all the lights in my house and ceasing all activity two and a half hours after I get off of work.
Also: the eight alarms aren't all there to wake me up, it's just that sometimes I *also* sleep through the ones that are supposed to remind me to go sit at my desk and start work. One of the first three usually gets me up, but on a day when I sleep through all three of those I will be sleeping through all eight of them and usually a phone call and someone trying to shake me awake to.
ANYWAY after being treated with melatonin and light therapy and staring listlessly at the ceiling in the dark bored out of my skull with racing thoughts for sleep disorders that I didn't have for like twenty years the single most effective intervention that allowed me to get more sleep as someone with both ADHD and DSPD was to start hanging out and being active in places where it would be easy to fall asleep if the sleep caught me there instead of turning my bedroom into a dark, silent shrine of snoozing. Giving myself permission to fall asleep late instead of laying awake chewing myself up with guilt for not being asleep helped too.
Actually here's some tips for the sleepy bitches in the crowd:
1 - If you're laying down and not falling asleep in half an hour, you're not actually sleepy; read something or get up and do something because you're more likely to get sleepy faster that way than you are staring at the clock going "if I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and forty five minutes of rest when I have to go to work; If I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and twenty minutes of sleep when I have to get up, etc. etc."
2 - Allow yourself to be ambushed by sleep. Fall asleep on your cozy couch. Fall asleep in the comfy chair. Let yourself sleep where you fall asleep instead of dragging yourself to where you're 'supposed' to sleep if doing so will wake you up.
3 - The mythbusters thing. If you just lay down and close your eyes and pretend to rest you will feel more rested when you get up than when you laid down. Laying down to rest is better than nothing, it literally causes cognitive improvements similar to sleep in tests, and knowing that can help take off some of the pressure of not being able to fall asleep and can thus help you fall asleep.
4 - It's okay to "hang out" in the area where you're going to sleep. Read in bed. Play games on your cellphone in bed. If you want to go to sleep put on comfy clothes and bring a chill activity and hang out in your bed to do it so that all you have to do when you start getting sleepy is close your eyes.
5 - It's better to get some sleep than no sleep. Sometimes you look at the clock and it's six AM and whoops, fuck it. Okay, time for bed, don't stress that you're only going to get a few hours, a few hours is better than nothing. Lay down to pretend to rest at least and you'll probably feel okay.
6 - This one sounds silly and might not work for a bunch of people for a bunch of reasons but apparently there's some research suggesting that "well-rested" is a state of mind? I've had a reasonable amount of success with just telling myself "Yeah, I actually feel pretty good," and pushing through the day on a couple of hours of sleep. I don't *recommend* that and you should try to get as much sleep as possible, but yeah the next time you're low on sleep see what happens if you just try to decide to not be tired. It sounded like bullshit to me when I first heard it but I've found some success with it.
7 - This shit is cumulative. If you're doing a couple nights a week on low sleep that's not ideal but you're probably going to be pretty functional and you can work on it. If you overbook and overextend yourself for too long - I'm looking at you college students and new parents - it's going to add up. Try as much as possible to at least keep your sleep deficit nights spread out. (This message brought to you by writing 60k words of fiction in october and completely frying my brain because i wasn't getting enough sleep).
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evie-sturns · 30 days
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pathetic - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: after spending the whole day bickering with your boyfriend, the only option he gives you to get yourself off is to use his thigh.
contains: thigh riding, slight humiliation if you squint, desperate!reader, soft!dom matt
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i stay seated on the arm chair in the living room while matt manspreads on the couch, he’s been ignoring me for the past hour because i “was starting to piss him off”
i cross my legs on the chair as i observe matt, his top teeth slightly sinking into his bottom lip, his arms crossed showing all his tattoos.
his tattoos make me feel a certain way, they turn me on in times like these.
i squeeze my thighs together, desperate for some sort of relief from the ache between my legs
“matt” i say softly, his gaze moves from the tv over to me with a small hum
i toy with the straps of my white tank top, pulling them down to my mid biceps seductively
he instantly looks back at the tv dismissively, i let out a small puff of air frustratedly
“matt” i repeat, my eyes burning into his side profile
he doesn’t respond.
“i need you matt- i need your hands.. anything.” i say, matt looks over at me
“c’mere.” he demands, pointing to the spot infront of him on the floor.
i instantly spring up off the arm chair, speed walking over to the spot infront of matt on the floor, i look down at him on the couch.
“shorts off.” he says, i shimmy my brandy melville shorts down to my ankles before stepping out of them.
“take your tank top off cause you were so desperate to 5 minutes ago.”
i follow his instructions, pulling off my tank top.
i stand fully revealed in front of matt, studying his face carefully.
he pats his right thigh, i hesitate for a second before straddling his thigh.
i feel embarrassed for a second, sitting completely bare on matt’s thigh which is clothed, just like the rest of his body.
he goes back to watching the tv, i go to reach for the waist band of his pyjama pants but he grabs my wrist “nope” he says quietly.
i whine out of embarrassment before slowly starting to rock back and forth on his leg.
“oh fuck-“ i whisper out, placing my hands on his shoulders for support
i repeatedly brush my clit against the fabric of his pants, earning loud whimpers from me.
i flip my head forward, resting on his shoulder as my hair drapes over his chest and neck.
with each rock on his thigh i let out a loud moan “such a fucking slut oh my god.” matt breathes out, almost amused.
my cheeks flush, matt stays looking foward at the tv not paying much attention to me desperately trying to get myself off on his thigh.
i whimper directly into his ear, feeling myself get close
“good girl, let me help you— come all over my thigh” matt speaks before pushing his thigh up, putting more pressure on my clit.
“matt!—“ i call out, squeezing my eyes shut
“so worked up.” he says with a smile, grabbing my hips and pressing me down onto him
“look at you, riding my leg, humping all over my thigh.” matt gently laces his hand into the back of my hair, bringing my head away from his shoulder
he tilts my head down to look at where we meet, his pants which now have a reasonably large damp spot.
my mouth goes slack, matt palms himself with his free hand through his pants, relieving some pressure.
“matt oh my god—“ i whine, my head falling fowards into his chest
matt presses his thigh up again, i let out a loud moan of his name, my nails scratching his shoulders as i feel my orgasm crash over me
all the pleasure i just felt hitting me at once, i arch my back. matt groans at the sight, he can now feel me pulsating on his leg.
i slowly come to a stop, the stimulation becoming too much as i pull back from matt’s chest and lock eyes with him. his cheeks are flushed and he has a small innocent smile on his face.
i’m a panting mess as i glance down between my legs at the mess i made.
“you were wet” he laughs slightly
“me?” i say with a small smirk, pointing down at the very obvious patch that matt’s attempting to cover with his hand
“you’re acting tough when you came in your pants” i tease,
“you’re acting tough like you didn’t just get yourself off on my actual thigh for 10 minutes.” he bites back,
i go to open my mouth again but matt stops me
“you’re acting tough like you weren’t begging me to touch you then ended up resorting to rubbing yourself on my clothes.” he follows up his last comment
i cover my face with my hands “shut up!!” i smile, “go get changed pretty” matt laughs, tapping my hip.
i slowly lift myself off of him, stumbling over to the pile of clothes on the floor.
“sorry about your pants.” i say while redressing myself in the small amount of fabric i had on earlier
“don’t apologise, that shit was so hot.” matt says back, i shake my head with a grin on my face.
i flop back down on the couch next to matt, he reaches a hand out and fixes my messy hair.
just then i hear the door unlock, followed by chris walking inside “sorry guys, gotta piss” he says frantically while jogging over to the stairs with a small glance at us.
“matt why the fuck are your pants so wet did you piss yourself?” he calls out as he runs up the stairs
matt’s eyes widen, his cheeks instantly flushing again
“i spilt water!” he calls out.
——————
hey guys!! i hope you liked this it was really fun to write
also billie’s world tour wtf?? AND NOT COMING TO NZ but it’s okay i’m going to australia im so excited STOP
@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209
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demieyesore · 3 months
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Mattheo riddle x reader x theodore nott smut with a praise kink plssss
“Just like that” - Mattheo x Reader x Theodore
Summary - Reader is masturbating in their room when the boys walk in accidentally but encourage them to keep going
Warnings / Mentions - GN!Reader, AFAB Reader, tbh no plot, just porn, no use of Y/n, no idea what the word count is bc I’m writing this directly on tumblr LMFAO, Reader has a oral fixation, Theo’s kind of quiet and chill while Mattheo takes the lead, Mattheo is a MUNCH, voice kink, praise kink, mention of hand kink, also I know that this is kind of short but I had like no idea what to write 💀🙏
POV - First person
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It had been a long day in classes and I just needed to relieve some of the pressure. My door was closed, the lights dimmed. It was dark outside since I stayed out of my dorm longer than usual.
Thankfully I don’t share a dorm with anyone so I can do whatever I want in the comfort of my own dorm.
I was leaning against the headboard, two pillows behind my back. A blanket loosely draped over my lap with another pillow under my hips, lifting them up comfortably.
I licked at two of my fingers, quickly fantasizing that they were Theo’s fingers. He has such big hands and whenever he sticks his fingers in my mouth it’s like a become brainless.
After pulling my fingers out of my mouth with a pop, I reach under the blankets, making sure that my pajama pants and underwear weren’t in the way. With one hand I spread myself open and with the newly wet fingers, I start rubbing at my clit.
Slowly I get more into it, wishing and begging for Mattheo to be eating me out while Theo and I make out.
My prayers are answered when I hear my door open and see the two boys laughing with each other. Clearly one of them said something funny and they weren’t nearly planning anything to happen tonight.
The laughter immediately dies down when I accidentally release a moan. Both of their eyes immediately drift over to me on the bed as I sink more into it out of embarrassment.
I stop all of my movements as they stand there for a moment, not knowing entirely what to do. Mattheo pushes Theodore through the threshold, closing the door as soon as he himself steps in.
“Don’t stop just because we’re here.” Mattheo cockily states, swiftly pulling his shirt off. Theodore on the other hand makes his way to the bed, checking with me before pulling away the blanket.
“So pretty…” Theo whispers in his thick Italian accent when he can finally see my cunt.
I whine out of embarrassment, shutting my legs when Mattheo crawls onto the end of the bed, prying them open.
He lays down just in front of my now exposed pussy, looking like he’s about to go down on me but instead he just lays on his stomach, his head resting against his hand.
“Go on, I wanna see what you were doing.” A mischievous grin spreads on his face. Theo forces me to lean forward, removing the pillows behind my back and instead placing himself there. Easily lifting me onto his lap and resting his chin on my shoulder.
His hands hold open my legs by my knees.
“Do I have to do it for you?” Mattheo asks, raising his eyebrow.
I shake my head, taking a deep breath to try and control my nerves. I go back to rubbing my clit, adding more pressure and trying different ways.
I whine after a couple of seconds, my mind too overwhelmed with them being here and doing nothing.
“I can’t.” I murmur under my breath.
“Thank god.” Mattheo grins, hooking his arms around your thighs and holding onto your hips. His tongue quickly licking a stripe across my slit. I jolt against Theo at the sensation. Mattheo’s cold tongue flicking at my clit and then poking around inside me.
I squirm against Theo, his arms wrapping around me to keep me still.
“It’s okay…” He shushes me.
“You can take it.” He reassures, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
Mattheo agrees with Theo, sending vibrations throughout my core. I attempt to shut my legs from the tingles but Mattheo just keeps holding them apart.
“You taste so good, doing so well for me.” He whispers into my cunt, his mouth still exploring me.
I whimper at his words.
“I know, I know.” Theo chuckles from behind me, his lips pecking at my shoulder and neck.
Mattheo sucks at my clit making me moan, Theo smiles over my shoulder in response.
“So pretty for us…” He grins as he states in my ear.
I feel a knot forming in my stomach as Mattheo keeps eating me out, their small praises making me tingle before cumming. Mattheo’s tongue immediately flattens when I orgasm, making sure to swallow before pulling away. He presses a kiss to my lips, making me taste myself.
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scientia-rex · 6 months
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Sometimes people tell me I'm a good person. I'm not a good person by nature, or by default. I'm a good person because I've decided that it's important to me to act like one, on a daily basis, forever.
My actual nature is that I want power. I want power and I want my life to be easy and I want other people to be forced to be nice to me even if they hate me. I want other people to have to suck up to me, I want to watch people who I know hate me suffer through the indignity of having to suck up to me. I want to hurt people who hurt me. I want all of these things in the same exact deeply recognizable way that a gorilla or a chimpanzee does. I watch those documentaries and I recognize myself, intimately. The fact that I can behave like a good person in spite of that has taken me a long time and a lot of effort to achieve.
What you feel isn't as important for your "goodness" as what you do. And you get good at what you practice. So practice your skills at being polite, pleasant, kind. Practice gently interrupting negative behaviors--whether that's someone's negative behaviors directed towards themselves, or directed towards someone else. The idea that we have to be inherently without sin is such Christian garbage. It's psychological gibberish. We want things! We want everything! That is normal and human and the key is not acting on every bad feeling you have.
I have taken my insatiable desire for power and to manipulate people and I have used it for good. I have learned how to manipulate people into coming to the doctor and taking their blood pressure medication and being honest about their recreational substance use. I have taken my psychology education and I have used it to craft a persona that makes people feel at ease. I go home at the end of the day exhausted, because maintaining a persona for ten hours straight is exhausting, but I do it happy, because I manipulated the people I work with into feeling better and having brighter days. I manipulated my patients into feeling good about their achievements and recognizing where we need to do things differently.
The hard part is that when the mask slips, people find it not just off-putting but deeply upsetting. When I explain things like "I have thought very carefully about how I would conduct a career in domestic terrorism because I would genuinely like to bomb the headquarters of most American insurance companies, but I don't see a way to do it without getting caught and either killed or spending the rest of my life in prison, and at the moment I consider that an unacceptable outcome," people go from "ha ha! my wacky colleague" to "Jesus Christ, I didn't realize there was something actually wrong with you."
Anyway, don't make your kids read the extended works on Machiavelli at twelve, my dad thought he was helping me but all he accomplished was making me sad I'll never be a king.
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satorena · 6 months
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✮⋆˙ PUSSY FAIRY ON THE WAY !?
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featuring. g. suguru x fem!reader
warnings. explicit content, mutual masturbation, lots of dirty talk, fwb!reader, phone sex, fingering, squirting, reader has a vagina and tattoos on her fingers.
rena’s note. based off the line “i touch myself just thinking about you” 🌬️
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11:45pm: *2 photo attachments*
11:45pm: missin’ my pretty girl
it was almost painfully embarrassing how easily aroused two simple pictures could get you. it didn’t take much for your cotton panties beneath your oversized tee to get damp with slick, squeezing your thighs together to stimulate some sort of friction.
you stared for god knows how long at your phone screen, the bright light illuminating a mean and girthy dick you’re all too well accustomed to. its brown tip raging red and leaking pre come you’d familiarize yourself with. the bulging veins on the underside of his shaft peeked through sensitive skin, mimicking the veins on the owner’s hands and wrists.
simple details on the man, such as rings and bracelets and beauty marks and an oozing tip, had you licking the tip of your fingers before slipping them past your panties, meeting your bare pussy, flinching at the contact and chilly breeze of your bedroom.
“fuck,” you sighed, head thrown back into the pillow. you performed circles at your clit, teasing yourself with your light touches.
this was exactly how suguru had his way with you. he took his time—though he preferred using his tongue but that wasn’t exactly an option as of right now— by thumbing at your clit and watching you unravel and crumble at his touch.
you mimicked your thoughts, the attention at your bundle of nerves sending blissful shockwaves throughout your limbs. your thighs squeezed together from the pleasure, and you recalled that suguru would have forced them open and made you take it like the good girl you are.
your hole clenched around nothing, desperate to be filled with what couldn’t be provided at the moment. soft whines came out your throat while you ground your hips up, subconsciously chasing your own hand in need of more pressure.
so lost in yourself, your screen dimmed, noting it would soon shut off, before pinging once more at a newer notification.
11:49pm: left on read huh…
11:50pm: don’t tell me you’ve started without me mama?
you don’t even bother trying to reply, knowing he would ring up your line in a few. good, you could use his voice in your ears while getting off, after all— suguru had officially ruined you for anybody else.
as expected, your phone buzzed in your hand and you swiped the call eagerly, pressing it on speaker before resting it on your chest.
“suguuu,” you greet him, bottom lip stuck in between your teeth. your other hand goes to slip under your tee, and grasp at your bare chest, groping firmly at the tender mound.
“you kept me waiting,” he chuckles, though you notice it’s breathy, as if forcing it out. you hear shuffling, and he heaves out a sigh, “missed you, pretty.”
“mhmm, missed you more,” you intensify the pace on your clit, fuzzy sock-cladded toes curling from the building pleasure. “need you here, sugu,”
you mewl his name, the nickname rolling off your pink tongue and into your phone speaker. the neediness behind your tone had him groaning, cursing out a ‘fuck’ and suddenly the sound of fapping grew consistent.
“oh yeah?” he tries, tries, to come off cocky but he’s just as needy as you are. perhaps even more, as the hold on his cock tightens. “tell me more baby. what else?”
you figure it’s finally time to focus your attention on your folds, which had soaked up your cunt and sheets beneath you the minute he called. your index and middle finger graze at your lips, and you whine at the sensitivity.
“want you here,” you moan, rubbing figure eights at your your folds. you stimulate your cunt in a familiar pattern, the same way suguru always worked on you. “w-want your fingers deep in my pussy, fuckin’ me open and—hah, making a mess outta me—need it suguru!”
“shit baby,” he chuckles, though muffled, as you fail to notice he’s got the hem of his wife beater tucked in between his teeth. “want me to tell you what i’d do to you if we were together?”
“yes!” you beg, unashamed as your back arches off the surface of your bed. your limbs felt liquified and there was something about his voice that had your pussy glistening terribly.
“mm, well,” he begins, his thumb grazing over his slit as he pictured you doing a million times. “i’d start off with kisses at your thighs. y’love it whenever i bite, dont’cha? love it when i mark you as mine, hm?”
you nod your head, despite the fact he can’t see. “always sugu, feels so good!”
“and when i get sick of teasing myself, i’d push your panties to the side and kiss your pretty clit,” geto sighs, almost in a trance by his own words. they roll of his tongue so naturally, stomach clenching as he imagines the things he’d do to you if he was able to.
“kiss your pretty clit before playing with it. i know it drives you—fuck—crazy. yeah, it drives you crazy and you love to act like you hate being teased, but baby, your pussy tells me otherwise,”
he spoke so sinfully in your ears, soft voice being a major contrast to the intense words that left his mouth. it churned deep in your guts, sending butterflies with a mix of straight arousal.
“i do— fuckin’ love it—” you cut yourself off, the hand on your breast tweaking with the stiff bud, twisting and pinching at it.
“you fingering yourself yet?” he asks you, and you shake your head, humming a soft ‘uhn uhn’, he continues, upping the pace of his own jerking, “good girl—get your tatted fingers in f’me, wanna hear your pretty pussy speak to me.”
“o-okay” you comply to his order, easing the void of emptiness by sliding your middle and ring finger inside your clenching pussy.
you moan loudly at the intrusion, the stretch nothing close to suguru’s fingers, but still enough to satisfy you for the time being. you feel your soft walls clench around your digits, begging for more. at the wet squelch of your cunt, you hear geto chuckle through the phone, “there we go, my favorite language.”
“wish you were here sugu—hnng, need you here and—and takin’ care of me!” you voice out your thoughts, your fingers gradually picking up their pace and plowing in your insides.
“sugu’s being mean, isn’t he? ‘m sorry baby, for not doin’ my—shit—job,” geto apologizes, the sound of his lubricated cock being jerked resonating in the depths of your ear drums.
“match my rhythm, mama,” he instructs you to follow, and despite you being so deep in your own thoughts and moans, you focus on the faint sound of his fist chafing his dick.
and so, your fingers plunge in and out your wet core, pussy gushing slickness, just to please geto.
“that’s it—my good girl, mmh, always doin’ so perfect.”
his praises did wonders to your body, as you felt an oncoming orgasm approach. your gut heated and tightened into a familiar coil, and your thighs threatened to close in on your hands.
“sugu, baby, ‘m getting close!” you warn him, now roughly grabbing at your other boob that lacked attention.
“me too, pretty girl—me too,” he grunts, the pace of his jerking increasing greatly. he works up and down his length with two hands and purpose, breathing heavily and watching his abdomen contracting tightly.
“play with your clit,” suguru breathes out, a whine escaping his throat momentarily. you moan at the unexpected sound, and he continues, “please baby—play with your clit f’me”
he begged and fuck, you’d never felt yourself be so attracted to his voice the way you did right now.
“feels’good” you slur, drool pooling at the corner of your parted lips. you multitasked with toying at your puffy clit with scissoring your cave, the drag of your fingers and stimulation of your bundle of nerves opening the dam.
“cummin’ sugu—hnng, fuck, oh fuck!” you cry out, far too loud as you release on your hand. your juices spill and you drip down to the crack of your ass, down to the sheets, soaking up your panties and mattress.
you continue to fuck yourself as best as you could despite your body jerking at the sensitivity, thighs quaking and back arched off the bed.
“r-right behind ya princess—oh fuck y/n” you hear his voice break as he shoots his load onto himself, his pretty moans all in your ears. he sounded melodic, your name belonging on his tongue as it sends tingles all over your nerves.
after a few minutes, your high comes down, and you slowly pull your fingers out of your pussy, wincing at the contact. geto’s gone quiet, safe for the panting on the other side of the phone, most likely attempting to ground himself from his own orgasm.
you clench your thighs and jolt at the sensitivity. your skin felt clammy and sticky with your arousal, and your bedroom now smelled of your sex. you miss suguru’s scent, and how much differently your sheets would’ve smelt with him in it.
“taste yourself for me,” suguru speaks up, breathless.
you do as he says, bringing your fingers up and wrapping your plump lips around your digits. you moan softly, before giggling cutely when you hear the man groaning in desperation.
“quit makin’ me jealous,” he sighs, the words almost coming out like a whine. “nothin’ gets sweeter than your pussy, swear on everything.”
you can only think of a simple solution for his complaints. you shrug, popping your lips off your soaked hand, “pull up on me then.”
the line goes quiet for a bit, and you can practically hear the arrogant smirk on his face, which only makes your lips tug into a similar smile.
“your fine ass better be ready for me in ten.”
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mind you this is a canon moment between me & him 🫦
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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dump in tags oh man
#🌙.vent#IM TRYING TO DO MY BEST AAAA#no energy n everytime i think of the past or the future n the things i have to do in the present#i get so overwhelmed.... regrets regrets regrets#i wld be happy if i cld just have my family n friends n jsut do wtvr i love but#the. pressure of academics haha#growing up i really was an achiever so. hs my study habits have gotten worse. i used to never submit anything late yk#this year i'm still doing well enough ig but. fuck i'm disappointed i don't think it's good enough#esp if i wna go to the top unis in my country n maybe even overseas#it's so overwhelming i haven't been doing well lately#i need to fix myself n my life but at the same time#thinking if regrets always just weighs me down i really want to get rid of them but they persist n it hurts#it just.... doesn't seem to end#i feel like i'm falling behind.#i used to be. ahead so. this hurts#i'm hollow compared to the person i used to be lmfao#thinking abt it all burdens me so much that i'm tempted to just give up someway somehow#i won't though. i can't do that.. but it weighs so heavy on me ahh it hurts a lot but i have to be strong enough to do better#it's all so overwhelming n i'm falling to stress i need some sort of rest of comfort but i'm afraid it'll stress me out more as well#i'll just do my best n try to take my mind off it ;;;;#torn between reality and fiction and hope and despair n wtvr the fuck else is there n oh my god it hurts but i'm fine#i genuinely have regrets in all aspects of my life from school to games to social to. everything n it's just weighing down all at once sob#maybe this is a bit bad but surely it's not like i'll affect others if i be quiet or isolate myself for a while yhyh#idk fuck loneliness that's irrational i'll focus on whatever the heck i can w myself#maybe part of me is underesting again how i'm a part of the world around me but i'm just too overwhelmed to really think abt livingg proper#ly like that nymore so ill just be productive. succeed. i'll be fine surely certainly definitely
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anantaru · 6 months
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more rich boy alhaitham pls🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽i love the concept and how u wrote it😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🖤
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cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, rich boy au, rich boy alhaitham, process of falling for you HARD, a little possessive again because I cannot help myself, rough sex & very messy
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whether you believe it or not, rich boy alhaitham has never been in love before— and the scribe thinks about one specific kind of love here, one you read about in books, one you can evidently witness between two strangers while crossing the street.
essentially, he was attractive and he knew it, a man blessed with extraordinary intelligence and talent, bringing to mind that he was exceptionally wealthy as well.
so, speaking from an outer perspective, those factors certainly couldn't be the reason as to why he was unlucky on finding his perfect match— in fact, no one could ever deny how greatly alhaitham was being admired by the people of sumeru.
or was he?
or perhaps, they really don't often pay attention to him, because you see, he doesn't want them to.
he purposefully keeps a low profile, with a veiled identity and ulterior purposes hidden right beneath, so that he could rest easy and indulge in a comfortable life— with his wealth continuously growing, yet no specific target on what to do with it, or on who to spend it on besides himself.
yes, it was true, he sometimes catches himself getting lonely.
but in spite of that, after he meets you it's different, because suddenly alhaitham finds himself in trouble without noticing how the feelings of love were already coursing through his veins.
how unnoticeable falling in love was, snap and it's over, it's astonishing how he just needed to get closer to you.
you swallow thickly, and it was foreseeable that you ended up in his bed again, it's on the point of each night that it ends the exact same way now.
both of you knew why you were sharing a bed again— lewd and lustful traces curving over the slopes of your body and stimulating your needs— how utterly interesting how fast someone's mind could simply switch off and decide that you were in love now.
just from a simple look, and alhaitham was yours.
and he never would've let this happen to himself— the stress on how to navigate through an emotion such as love, especially since there wasn't a rational answer behind the multiple explanations he read about in the past, nor could you buy real, pure love with money.
if it were for anybody at all, he would just brush it off or at least try, but you just had to be so cruel and invade his mind.
you feel his gaze on you now, and it's the way his breath tumbles over your parted mouth that you know he's done for— his tongue driving between your lips before lapping over your pink muscle as his hips leisurely push into you.
it drives alhaitham insane, no amount of money could even come close to this feeling of pleasure and genuine lust, it's like a heavy drug someone would grow addicted to in the twinkling of an eye.
you squeal when he bites down on your bottom lip, your trembling frame teetering on the edge of a rapid sensation while every slap of skin turns the bedroom aflame, until the pleasure goes straight to your puffy clit, overflowing your belly with butterflies.
a burning pressure pricks at your spongy walls as his cock repeatedly crowds you, giving your hips a good squeeze as alhaitham presses you back into his length, making sure you're taking him all at once.
your arousal was clinging to his toned abs and turned the view before you all the more sinful, your soft pussy glistening with your slick and his pre when he uses it as a natural lubricant to make it pleasurable to the both of you, hitting your aching spots just like that.
alhaitham can hear how much you're enjoying this and he hopes he doesn't give away how much he has been enjoying this as well. of course, it's much more evident in your case, precisely from the way your moans trembled and your hips stuttered and flinch into his dripping dick, your body attempting but ultimately failing to meet his thrusts half way as you're struggling to find any strength to lift your hips up.
alhaitham sees it's too much for you by now, he can also feel it in the way you're clamping around the base of his erection with dripping heat, until he was all soaked and wet in your oozing arousal.
needless to say, the wealthy man placed a mental note into the deepest depths of his brain for later— to, as one might expect, treat you to a glorious shopping spree with a luxurious dinner waiting for you afterwards.
basically wherever you wanted to go to, he would make it possible, because obviously he will make it happen just for you! and wether the feelings he was encountering right now were pure and good ..
.. alhaitham would do anything to keep you, and he won't ever lose you.
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roosterforme · 2 months
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Some Things Take Time | Bob Floyd x Reader
Summary: Bob is a man well known for his patience. He never rushes things in the air, and he tries to live by a similar philosophy on the ground. You and he are both on the same page about welcoming a child into your home through foster care, but it's hard for him to watch you try to bond with her unsuccessfully. He soon realizes that Avery is a lot like him, and that some things are worth the extra time.
Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of infertility, mentions of foster care and adoption, Bob making all other men look like trash
Length: 5800 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x wife!reader
Happy birthday @wkndwlff! Check my masterlist for more!
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You were laying on the couch with your head resting on your husband's lap, spinning his wedding band around on his finger while you tried to put your thoughts into words. You could tell he knew you were on the verge of speaking, sending you several expectant glances as you and he both pretended to watch the movie he started an hour ago. But Bob would never rush you, and you were thankful for that, because you wanted to make sure you got this right. 
"We've been trying for a long time," you whispered, and Bob's blue eyes met yours as you looked up at him. "Almost two years."
He nodded once and smiled softly. "We have," he murmured, squeezing your hand in his larger one. You pressed your lips together as tears stung your eyes. Bob never seemed upset that he was pushing forty years old and in spite of trying and trying, you'd never gotten pregnant. He never put pressure on you to keep trying or to stop. You were convinced he never would, but you wanted to know what he was really thinking.
"What if we... stopped. Stopped trying. And just went with an alternative?"
"Honey, I already told you I'm happy with things how they are. We can stop trying if you want to, or we can talk about alternatives if you want to do that. But there's nothing wrong with just you and me. In fact, I'm really quite enjoying myself."
You closed your eyes as his fingers drifted along the curves of your side. It would be delicious to get back into the habit of having sex when you wanted to instead of when your cycle demanded it. You and Bob sharing your undivided attention with each other was something you were craving, but you still wanted something else, too.
"What if I said I wanted to look into fostering and adoption again?" you asked softly as you started to sit up.
He pulled you closer so you were straddling his thigh. "Then I would say we can call our lawyer on Monday and get some answers."
You smiled as you nudged his glasses with your nose and kissed his cheek. "And what if I said I'm not fertile today, but I want you anyway?"
Bob reached for the remote and turned the movie off as a soft blush rose in his cheeks. "Then I would say it's time we got in bed, Honey."
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Bob was a man who was well known for his patience. He never rushed things in the air, and he tried to live by a similar philosophy on the ground. He knew he wanted to marry you about halfway through the first date. He also knew you would have looked at him like he was insane if he admitted that to you halfway through the first date. So instead of rushing things, he took the time to make sure you were on the same page he was and that you were comfortable. He always tried to do that.
When a baby just didn't seem to be happening, he was more than willing to keep trying, but he was also completely content with the idea of no kids at all. It wasn't worth rushing anything as long as he had you in his life. But you had recently convinced him of a third option, and his lawyer helped the two of you smooth out the details. 
And this is how Avery ended up at Bob's house on a random Monday evening. She was eight years old and in need of a foster family, and you were adamant when you answered the phone call that you and Bob were more than ready for her to be dropped off even on such short notice. 
"I'm so nervous," you whispered as you held Bob's hand and watched through the front window as a van pulled up. 
"I'm excited," he told you with a soft laugh. When he thought about having kids, he always pictured a little girl. For some reason, the idea of reading princess stories and painting a bedroom a putrid shade of purple really appealed to him. As he watched Avery being led up the walkway, he realized she didn't look one bit like you or him. He also realized that having a child who resembled him was actually never part of his dreams. 
As the doorbell rang, you bounced in place and whispered, "She's here. She's really here." 
Bob pulled you in for a kiss as his heart thudded. He realized he needed to tamp down his excitement a little bit. The two of you were merely fostering Avery. Nothing was set in stone even though you told the lawyer you wanted to eventually adopt a child. But right now your eyes were glittering with hope and anticipation, and Bob couldn't take that away from you. 
"Let's make her feel welcome," he said as you both headed for the door. 
Avery stood there with an unreadable expression on her adorable face, and Bob noticed right away how the case worker seemed to rush through everything. There were papers to sign and a schedule to keep, and even though all of it pertained to Avery, she ended up sitting quietly at the kitchen table while everyone else talked about her.
It was late by the time you and Bob were alone with her, and now her unreadable expression looked something like sadness. "Avery," Bob said softly. "Do you want to see your bedroom?"
She looked up at him and nodded without saying a word, and then you helped her down from the chair. You had taken the time to freshen up the extra bedroom and buy a pink glitter toothbrush and a pair of pajamas in her size. But Avery just sat down on the edge of the bed with her bag and asked, "Do I have to go to school tomorrow?"
"Yes," Bob replied with a smile. "I'll drop you off on my way to work, and then I'll pick you up in the afternoon."
When she didn't respond, you asked, "Is there anything you want? A bedtime snack or something to drink? I could make you some hot chocolate or get you a cookie. Bob makes the best oatmeal cookies, and there are a few left from the weekend. Maybe you can help Bob make the next batch." You were rambling now, and Bob reached out to squeeze your hand as you said, "We're just excited that you're here."
But Avery shook her head and told you, "I'll just read my book. Thanks." Then she untied her shoes and took a well worn copy of The Secret Garden from her bag, but she sat on the bed with rigid posture, not looking at either of you.
Bob wasn't quite sure what to do. You'd already shown the child where the bathroom was, and she seemed to have all of her essentials. He swallowed hard, deciding not to rush Avery even though he could feel your disappointment radiating off of you. He cleared his throat and said, "We'll leave our bedroom door open in case you need anything. And we'll get you up around seven for school. Good night, Avery."
She just nodded and squinted down at the tattered book cover like she was going to cry. Bob led you down the hallway, through your room and into the en suite bathroom where he gathered you in his arms as tears filled your eyes. "I don't think she likes us," you gasped before you buried your face against his neck.
Bob kissed the top of your head and whispered, "I just think she needs some time. Let's not rush anything." 
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You cried yourself to sleep the first night. You knew that your response wasn't fair to Bob or Avery or even to yourself, but you'd imagined meeting a little girl who was at least a little bit more talkative if not upbeat. You had your hopes set on fostering a child who at least gave the impression that your home was better than another alternative. You'd been given a vague picture of where Avery had come from, and you wanted her to be comfortable here, but now you felt stupid for buying the glitter toothbrush and the Minnie Mouse pajamas. 
Bob's hand drew lazy circles on your back as you turned away from him and cried softly. "It's just the first night," he reminded you in that sweet, even tone that you loved so much.
"I know. I just wanted this so desperately," you admitted between shaky breaths. His hand on your body helped you eventually fall asleep, and the next morning, Bob was up before you, making breakfast. When you tapped on Avery's door which was ajar, you poked your head in to find her once again sitting on the bed reading.
"Did you sleep okay?" you asked, and she nodded in response. "That's great!" you said in a tone of forced excitement. "Do you need help getting ready for school?"
"No," she said softly, setting the book aside.
You took a deep breath and said, "Bob's making breakfast. Do you want to come downstairs and eat?"
"Yes."
That was the last word you heard her speak before Bob led her out to his car in his uniform. He smiled at you over his shoulder as he told you to have a good day working on your true crime novel, but you knew you weren't going to. You spend two hours trying to write, but you ended up with three and a half new sentences. Instead, you spent most of the day thinking you'd made a huge mistake and hating your own body. Avery would probably last two weeks tops with you and Bob before she was begging to go somewhere else. You didn't even know if you could stand to see her melancholy little expression when your husband brought her home from school today, but you didn't want to call her case worker for help yet.
In the afternoon, you bought everything you needed to make oatmeal cookies along with the rest of your usual groceries. You paused next to the checkout line where there was a display of children's books and grabbed a few of them. Avery appeared to like her book more than anything else, so maybe she would appreciate these ones, too.
But when Bob brought Avery home with him after school, she barely spoke. She didn't want to help make any cookies, and after dinner, she went back to her bedroom. Bob tried to help her with her homework, but she told him it was easy and she already finished it. When you dropped off the new books, she told you she already had a favorite. 
"Oh," you said, standing in the doorway with your hands full of the unwanted books. "That's good... that you have a favorite. I have a favorite book, too."
She looked up at you and nodded, but soon you were backing out of the room and trying to hide your tears from Bob. "It takes time," he reassured you as you balled your hands into fists and cried on him again.
You knew you needed to be as patient as he always was, but you just weren't like him. And you started talking before you could stop yourself. "If we could have gotten pregnant, we'd have our own child," you sobbed. "One that we raised from day one who would love us and bake cookies and read new books."
Bob kissed your ear and whispered, "Nothing is easy, Honey. But sometimes the harder something is at first, the more rewarding it is later on."
You cried yourself to sleep again.
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Bob tried his best for that first week. He watched you start to pull away and retreat into yourself the more Avery kept to her bedroom. Every day when he dropped her off and picked her up, she thanked him for the ride. When he asked if she would rather start taking the bus, she told him it didn't matter. When he asked if there was something special she wanted to eat for dinner, she said she wasn't picky. 
And all the while she just squinted down at her book. Just The Secret Garden even though you brought home some others. When he pulled up to the curb in front of her school one morning, he said, "Avery, would you like me to take you to the library one day? Or maybe a bookstore where you can pick out what you want?"
She looked at him as she grabbed her backpack in one hand and her book in the other. "Maybe." Then she climbed out of the car, and he waited to pull away until she was inside the school building. That was the most promising answer he'd received yet. He drove to work thinking about signing her up for a library card, and when he got there, he was in a much better mood.
Natasha was the only one who knew that Avery was under his care. He didn't want to give anyone too many details, but she sweetly asked him the same question every morning after they got to work. "How are you and the Mrs. making out with your houseguest?"
And this morning, he said, "Maybe a little better today, Nat. I'm just trying not to rush it."
She patted him on the chest and smiled. "You never do, Bob. You're a man of details."
She was right. He spent the day thinking about all of the details that he knew about Avery. She was eight years old and very quiet. She only wanted to read one book even though you offered her more. She seemed to find the most comfort when she was alone. She was honestly a lot like Bob.
When he picked Avery up from school, he watched as one of the teachers patted the top of her backpack and sent her on her way. She squinted toward his car before trudging over in his direction with a frown on her face. Bob sighed as she climbed into the backseat and buckled herself in. "How was your day, Avery?" he asked as he shifted into drive. But today he got no verbal response at all. Instead he heard her crying.
Without another word, Bob pulled his car around and into an empty parking spot before killing the engine. He opened his door and closed it before taking a few deep breaths, and then he climbed in the back door and settled in next to the crying child. He let one hand gently rest on her shoulder, giving her a small squeeze before asking, "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"
She just shook her head as tears flowed down her cheeks, and she stared at her feet. "It's stupid."
Bob smiled slightly. "You might think so, but I'd probably find what you have to say fascinating."
She turned her head to look at him, examining his face to see if he was being honest. But of course he was. He just wanted her to tell him what was on her mind. It took a few minutes before she started to settle down, but eventually she said, "I failed my eye exam with the nurse today." She unzipped her bag and pulled out a yellow sheet of paper and handed it to him. "She told me my eyesight is terrible and that I need to get glasses."
Bob looked at the page and had to hide his alarm from her. Avery failed her eye exam spectacularly. It was a wonder to Bob that she was even able to see in her classroom. But now her squinting and her preference for one, well worn book were starting to make sense. As he filled in the blanks in his mind, he said, "Glasses aren't so bad," while he tapped his own silver frames. "They certainly make my day a lot easier."
She kind of rolled her eyes and said, "But you're an adult. People aren't going to make fun of you for wearing glasses."
"You think you'll get made fun of?" Bob asked softly, folding the yellow paper in half.
"Yes," she replied immediately as she wiped at her tears. "I already do. Glasses will make it so much worse."
Bob wanted to press her for more details, but he didn't think this was the right moment. Instead he asked, "Is that why you only like to read The Secret Garden? Because you already know most of the words by heart?"
Avery looked at him like she couldn't believe he solved a very complex riddle. "Yes."
He nodded and asked, "Would you like to be able to read other books, too? Because glasses would definitely help with that."
She shrugged and sniffed as she said, "I like books about gardens and flowers and fairies. I don't know of any other ones I would like anyway."
Bob patted her on the shoulder one more time and said, "I like those kinds of books, too. And I think I can help you get glasses that look cool and help you pick out more books. If you'll let me."
Another partial shrug was his only answer, but at least she wasn't telling him no. As he climbed back into the driver's seat, he sent you a quick text telling you that he and Avery were fine and to go ahead and have dinner on your own. Then he drove along to his optometrist's office, hoping they would squeeze an extra appointment into their schedule.
"You're in luck," the receptionist told him when they arrived. "There was a last minute cancellation. Have a seat, and we can take you back shortly."
The rack hanging on the wall was filled with books and magazines for people of all ages, but Bob watched Avery squint as she took a seat empty handed. He skimmed a magazine and offered to read an article to her, but she said no. When ten minutes had passed, Bob asked her, "Are the kids at school mean to you?" 
He was already considering other options that might make her feel more comfortable when she said, "I just don't fit in. Everyone else has parents or grandparents. Everyone else is loud, and I like it better when it's quiet. Everyone else already made friends."
Bob nodded his head. It was like she was living his own childhood in many ways. "I like it better when it's quiet, too. So does my wife. And making friends can be hard at any age. I still struggle with it."
"You do?" she asked him, eyes wide and interested.
"Absolutely. Sometimes I still get nervous and stumble over what I want to say, and I'm thirty-nine. And you know what?"
"What?"
"There's nothing wrong with that."
He watched Avery take a deep breath and look down at her hands before both of their names were called. Once they were in the exam room, Bob got to witness her fail the test for the second time in one day, and then her tears started up again. The crying was only made worse when the receptionist popped in and tried to quietly tell Bob that Avery wasn't approved for any vision insurance. 
The child was clearly smart as a whip, and if she was having a hard time fitting in at school, he didn't want to make it worse by making her feel like she didn't fit in with you and him either. "I was planning on paying out of pocket today," he told the receptionist who just nodded in response. Then he turned to Avery and said, "Looks like the nurse was right. How about we pick out some glasses?"
She looked at the displays while she wiped at her eyes with a tissue, but she wouldn't tell Bob which ones she wanted to try on. "Which ones are the cheapest?" she asked softly.
"I have no idea," Bob replied easily. "What's your favorite color?"
"Purple," she whispered, and Bob followed her squinting gaze to a purple frame sitting on a shelf above her head. 
"I like purple, too," he said as he reached them down and handed them to her. She held them for a couple minutes, and Bob decided not to rush her. She finally slipped them on and looked in the mirror, and he told her, "I think they look cool."
She nodded a little bit. "They're pretty good. But nobody else at school has purple glasses." 
As she removed them and tried to hand them back to him, Bob quickly looked at the adult sized frames. There was one pair that came in a deep purple, and he kind of liked them. "Just hang onto those for a minute. I need help picking out new glasses for myself, okay? What do you think about these?" 
When he removed his wire frames and replaced them with the purple plastic, it seemed like Avery couldn't help but smile. "I like them."
He nodded once. "Then I'll get them. That way we can match since we both like purple. Thanks for your help."
"You're welcome," she replied quietly, looking at the glasses she was still holding before handing them to Bob.
He took both pairs in his hand before nodding toward the door. "I'm feeling like it's a good day to get ice cream for dinner and look around the bookstore. I can think of at least two more books that you might like to read once your glasses are ready for you to wear. Sound good?"
"Yes."
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You didn't know what to expect when Bob brought Avery home after seven o'clock on a school night, but you definitely weren't prepared to hear her laughter for the first time. You'd barely made any progress on your novel since Avery arrived a few weeks ago, merely existing in your own funk all day long. But the sound of Bob's voice followed by her light giggle as they walked inside left you feeling better than you had in ages.
"Hi," you said, your voice dripping with optimism as Bob headed your way with a shopping bag in his hand. 
"Hi, Honey," he replied, kissing your cheek while Avery took her shoes off.
"How was school?" you asked her. 
"Terrible," she told you with a smile aimed up at Bob. "I failed my eye exam."
"Oh," you gasped, already making a mental note to call the eye doctor first thing in the morning so she could get some glasses. "We can take care of it for you."
"Already did," Bob said as he squeezed your hand. "Stopped on the way home and picked them out. Should be ready next week."
"Really?" you asked in surprise as he pulled two books out of the bag. Both were covered in vines and flowers, but one was clearly a novel for an adult while the other was much slimmer and looked like it was for Avery's reading level.
"Yes," he replied softly. "Now, on the drive home, I told Avery that you're a writer, but that you're also really good at reading books out loud." When you nodded and looked at her, she was squinting up at you. Bob handed you the smaller book and said, "I didn't get to take a shower before I left work, so I need to go do that now. But I promised Avery that you'd read a chapter to her after she gets ready for bed." He patted her on the shoulder and then made his way upstairs.
Your head was swimming with information. New glasses and new books and a child who was looking up at you with hope in her eyes. A husband who set up some time for you to spend alone with her. Tears stung your eyes as you said, "I love reading books out loud. Do you want to change for bed and brush your teeth now?"
Ten minutes later, you were sitting next to Avery on the spare bed, reading to her about a magical garden filled with flowers that turned the characters into superheroes. You read all sixteen pages of the first chapter, and then she asked you to read more. 
It was a little bit past bedtime when you finished the third chapter, and she was yawning. "How about I go get you one of my bookmarks from my office? And we can read more tomorrow night?"
"Okay," she replied easily, and when you returned a minute later with a bookmark that had a purple tassel, she smiled. "I like this book so far, but I think I'd like it a lot better if there were fairies, too. Thank you for reading to me."
"You're very welcome," you told her, barely shutting off the light in time for a tear to slide down your cheek. "Goodnight, Avery."
When you rushed into your own bedroom, Bob was in bed reading the other new book. "How did you do it?" you asked him, quickly climbing under the covers with him. "How did you get her to open up a little bit?"
He set the book down with a soft smile. "She just needed some time, Honey. She's a lot like me. She can't be rushed."
"No," you said, pushing your fingers through his hair as you cried a little bit. "That's not it. I think you're actually magical."
"Maybe," he agreed. "But her vision is so bad. That's why I think she kept reading The Secret Garden. She probably has it memorized and didn't want to tell anyone she couldn't see."
"Poor thing," you whispered, realizing that most of Bob's magic came from his patience as you fell asleep in his arms.
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A week later, Bob noticed you were exhausted, but you seemed a lot happier, because Avery seemed a lot happier. You had successfully read two books to her, and she was starting to become more vocal around the house. He was hoping she was having an easier time making friends at school now, too. But he was a little bit concerned with how late into the night you'd been working.
When he got a message around lunchtime letting him know both pairs of glasses were ready, he smiled. Pretty soon Avery would be able to attempt reading a new book on her own. He sent you a text letting you know that he'd be home with Avery after a quick stop back at the optometrist's office. And when he picked her up from school, she squinted at his car before climbing in the backseat. 
"Ready to go get our new glasses?" he asked before pulling out onto the road.
"Yes," she replied softly. "I've decided that wearing glasses is a better alternative than not being able to read new books. At least until I can get contacts."
Bob chuckled. "A wise choice."
A few seconds later, she asked, "Will you take me to the library this weekend? There have to be more books there that I'd like."
"Of course I'll take you to the library. We can ask the librarian to help you find you as many books as you want to read."
He hoped that would make the new glasses an even easier decision for her. He parked and led her inside where the eye doctor got them both fitted correctly before handing them a mirror. "What do you think?" Bob asked as he smiled at Avery. "I think they look cool on you."
She shrugged. "They're okay."
"Can you see better?"
"Yes," she whispered. On the way outside, she said, "Thanks for getting new glasses with me. I like yours, too."
Bob checked himself in the mirror before he backed out of the parking spot. "I think it's kind of my color."
You were waiting in the living room for them when Bob opened the front door. The house smelled like dinner cooking, and you had a stack of bound pages on the couch next to you. When you jumped to your feet, you said, "You both look great!" as you bounced in place a little bit.
"Purple is kind of our color," Avery said, making Bob laugh as you covered your massive smile with your fingertips. 
"It really is," you replied, wrapping Bob in a quick hug before cautiously placing your hand on Avery's shoulder for a beat. "I have something I wanted to show you. I was hoping to get your opinion."
"Me?" she asked, looking up at you, eyes wide behind her purple frames.
"Yes," you told her softly. "I've been working on a new story for the past week, and I really think you'll be able to help me with the ending."
"What kind of story?" she asked you, and Bob slowly made his way into the kitchen where he could still hear the two of you talking. 
"Well," you told her as she joined you on the couch, "it's about a fairy who gets invited to live in a magic garden. And she starts to learn how to use magic herself while a friendly witch and a kind wizard supervise her. And the garden is really pretty, and she loves it there and starts to make friends with the other creatures. Do you want to take a look at it?"
"Okay."
Bob hovered in the doorway and watched you hand the bound manuscript to the little girl next to you while you chewed nervously on your lip. He knew you wanted this to work out; he did too. He was also very surprised that you'd been working on this for the past week without sharing your secret even with him. But it truthfully wasn't really for him. It was for her. And you.
The child looked up at you and whispered, "You named the fairy Avery."
You just nodded and smiled. "Your name is so pretty, and you remind me of the kind of little girl who would have magic inside her."
Avery turned back to the page in front of her and snuggled in a little bit closer to you. She started reading out loud, and after a few pages, handed it over to you for a little bit. The two of you went back and forth like this for an hour before Bob carried in two plates of dinner and set them on the coffee table. 
"Even magic fairies get hungry," he said softly before leaving both of you to the story.
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When you woke up a few weeks later on Avery's ninth birthday, you were beyond exhausted. The past few nights had been late ones for you as you tried to finish up and edit the story you'd been working on. The title that the two of you came up with was The Littlest Fairy in the Garden, and you were just as proud of this as your true crime releases. 
Then you realized that there was actually a reason why you woke up. You could hear Bob talking. It sounded like he was on the phone even though it was barely eight o'clock. You climbed out of bed and stretched before finding him sitting on the floor in the walk-in closet talking softly on the phone in his pajama pants, undershirt and purple glasses.
"I'm sure she's going to agree with me. We want to move forward if that's what Avery wants, but I'll call you back in an hour or two. Thank you so much."
He ended the call right when you asked, "Who was that?"
Bob jumped a bit as he looked up at you with a tentative smile. "Our lawyer," he whispered. 
"What did they say?" you whispered back as he got to his feet and wrapped his arms around you. 
When Bob's lips found your ear, you shivered at his words. "It was just a preliminary conversation, but they asked if we would be interested in pursuing adoption."
"With Avery?" you gasped, and he nodded against you. 
"Yes. With Avery."
Tears filled your eyes as you clung to him. You thought about all the books she'd been reading with you and the birthday cake waiting in the kitchen. You could practically still smell the oatmeal cookies she and Bob made a few days ago. You could picture her smile and imagine her laughter, both of which were coming more easily with each passing day. "I want to adopt her. She belongs here. With us."
"I think so, too," he replied immediately, and you could hear the unshed tears in her voice. "I think we should have a conversation with her about it today. The process could take a little time, but I want to be sure it's what she wants as well."
You nodded, a jerky motion against him as your heart pounded faster and faster. "Let's talk about it when she wakes up."
Bob led you downstairs to the kitchen, his fingers laced with yours, and he started to crack some eggs while you made coffee and fresh orange juice. Avery had picked the menu for each meal today for her birthday, and the plan was to take her to the zoo after lunch. There was currently a purple banner with flowers and fairies on it stretched across the kitchen along with a large assortment of balloons. You couldn't remember being this excited about something in such a long time.
"Good morning," came a soft voice from the bottom of the stairs, and you nearly dropped a mug on the floor as you turned to look at her.
"Happy birthday!" you and Bob replied in unison, and then all three of you started laughing. 
Without another word, Avery made her way into the kitchen in her Minnie Mouse pajamas and gave you a hug around the waist. You gasped softly as you hugged her back, her purple glasses pressing against you. Then she tucked herself against Bob's side and hugged him right after that. "Thanks for all the birthday stuff. And thanks for being so nice to me and getting me glasses and everything."
You and Bob shared a look over her head as he rubbed his hand along her shoulder. "It makes us happy that you're here, Avery," he said softly, and you had to swipe at your tears. "Let's have your breakfast, and maybe we can talk about making this permanent."
"Permanent? Like me staying here for a while?" she asked softly as she looked up at him.
"Like you staying here forever."
--------------------------
This is a little birthday treat for @wkndwlff! I hope you have a great day, Taylor! I set out to write a nice little story based on this mood board, but somehow it turned into this angsty thing instead. Thanks to @sylviebell @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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crestapex · 5 months
Note
Yesss we love a foodie simon!
Mans will tear up some fried rice and then fuck up some rotisserie chickens 2 min later. Yall stupid if u think u can leave 2 big plates unattended with him. 3 slurps and its gone.
If hes dating and u cant finish ur food he gladly finish it for u. Gets lowkey offended when i pull the plate back and tell him u just ate off that plate/fork. Like wtf u mean i cant eat off ur plate/fork it doesnt matter bc I kiss u anyways SO LET ME FUCKIN EAT😫
Hes the type to eat from the pot/pan. Like as soon as u tell him the food is ready hes already digging in the pressure cooker with a spoon.💀
Yeah-no, ‘cause he’s definitely the type to look at you all confused when you don’t just give him your plate and instead try to shove your uneaten food on to his. He’s quirking his brow, looking at you like, ‘Hello? My tongue has literally been inside you.’ 🤨 And he just gently takes your plate and fork out of your hands while staring at you, nodding in disapproval.
Update: sort of part two.
And “3 slurps and it’s gone” PLEASE, I’M DONE. Also, I just couldn’t stop myself from writing a (semi) little blurb. 🤭 Now introducing big boy helping you cook!
You stand at the stove, wooden spoon in one hand, and switching from spice to spice with the other. Your eyes stay focused on the silver pot below, nearly filled to the brim with hot, simmering soup. It’s one of your own recipes, fresh and homemade from start to finish. The savory smell fills the kitchen, and having certainly flooded into the other rooms of your shared flat. As it appears you’re not the only one who favors this recipe, someone else clearly does as well.
You try your best not to acknowledge the beast of a man looming over you too much, instead letting him quietly watch as you work your magic. Simon’s hand rests on the counter beside the stove, his other hand opting to rest knuckle-first on his hip. Sure, he mostly chooses to remain silent, but he has no problem reaching for and handing you a utensil or spice—often times before you can, and even before you can ask him to do so.
Every now and again you’ll find yourself having to step away for a minute, and a minute is all he needs. All the time he needs to inch over to your spot and take a hold of the wooden spoon, gently stirring the soup. All the time he needs to lift the spoon and bring it to his lips, slurping up the smallest amount it could possibly take to drench his taste buds, no matter how steaming hot it is. And all the time he needs to lower the spoon back into the pot and swiftly move back into position, just as you begin to turn around and make your way back over to the stove.
And you pretend you don’t notice, you like to pretend you didn’t just catch Simon from out the corner of your eye sneak a bit into his system. Though you can’t help but silently laugh to yourself as he lightly pushes a spice in your direction with his thumb, his own, kind way of telling you it needs just a little bit more!
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months
Text
Captain
Hardersson x Daughter!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Sweden's new captain
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The decision comes out of nowhere to Pernille.
It shouldn't but it does.
She thinks it blindsides Magda too but her wife will not admit that.
You're twenty-five now, having just come off your best season at Barcelona yet. After the summer is over, you're off to Wolfsburg finally and Pernille couldn't be prouder.
But, you need to get through this summer first.
You're off at camp, having spent a short few days with Magda and Pernille before heading off to meet up with the rest of the Swedish team.
Pernille's flicking through the channels aimlessly when Magda nudges her, directing her to the channel that's playing Emma's press conference.
The captain of the team retired earlier that month and everybody had been speculating who would replace her and Pernille has to admit that she's got a fair bit of money on it being the woman that plays for United.
She's one of the older players on the team and is a vice-captain at club level.
Magda had disagreed with her, saying that United player was still a newer call-up than those who were younger but had been on the team longer. Magda wasn't quite sure where to put her money but she thought it was a toss-up between the forward from PSG and the midfielder from Gotham.
"-Younger side, don't you think? Surely there are a few older players who could have worn the armband."
"I mean, I'm sure there were," Emma says," But the decision was quite unanimous. I didn't make it by myself. I spoke to the players. I spoke to the staff. Our previous captain mentioned her by name. I'm confident that she'll be a very good leader on the pitch."
"And what kind of qualities do you think she'll bring?"
"Well, I'm sure you all know by now but I'm quite brash. I say it how I see it and, yeah, maybe I'm a little too tough sometimes. I think she'll balance that out and lift up some of her teammates. Just having her on our team is...Well, it's amazing. Sometimes I look at what she's won and how she's won it and I'm just in awe. You can load her with pressure and she just takes it. She's always improving and I think she'll instil that upon the team."
"The Gotham girl," Magda insists, nodding her head at the screen," For sure. Didn't she win the Ballon D'or last year?"
Pernille rolls her eyes. "The year before, which I know you know because Natalia won last year."
Magda grins, teasing. "Did she? I can't quite remember."
Emma's still talking though so they both pull their attentions back to the tv.
"I mean, it's not the first time she's had responsibility like this. She's captained her club a few times. She captained her youth team."
"The United girl!" Pernille says triumphantly," I knew it! Didn't she captain the youth team at some point?"
"So did the Gotham girl," Magda reminds her," And the one from PSG."
"There's obviously questions about bias?" One nasty reporter probes," From you? Seeing as her mother-"
"I really invite you to look at her trophy cabinet," Emma interrupts plainly," And all that she's won and all that she's going to win. She's played for some of the top clubs in the world. You don't get that just on connections. She's a talent. She was a prodigy when she was younger. She's been on the senior team since she was seventeen."
"Called up during an injury crisis, yes," The reporter says and Emma rolls her eyes.
"And proved herself during it. She was called up during the injury crisis, yes, but she never left. She's consistently been called up. There's a reason she's who we turn to."
"But-"
"She was recommended by our previous captain. Actually, I believe her words were something like 'Emma, she's ready'. I don't think you can give a more glowing recommendation than that. Listen, the fact of the matter is, I can't think of anyone more perfect for this role than her. She has the passion, she has the drive. She has connections with the rest of the team that people dream of."
The door to the conference room opens and Pernille holds her breath, ready to cheer her triumph at predicting the United girl becoming captain.
"And," The moderator says," Captain Harder-Eriksson."
You look a little nervous but you hide it well, sliding into the seat next to Emma and adjusting the microphone.
Suddenly, everything Emma has said falls into place for Pernille.
Your list of accolades were impressive. WSL titles, Champion's League, Liga F. Somehow, over the years, you've won practically everything with your clubs. You'd won World Cups on top of that. You were probably one of the most decorated goalkeepers in the world.
You'd worn the armband a few times for Barcelona, sharing duties with one of your teammates when Natalia wasn't on the pitch. You'd captained Denmark when you still played with them too.
The smoking gun should have been the reference to your mothers, to Magda and Pernille who had both captained their countries and Magda, who had served as Chelsea's captain under Emma. Of course, there was reasoning for potential bias.
Everything else should have just made it more obvious.
Being called up at seventeen during the injury crisis for the Swedish keepers.
Playing for the top clubs in the world.
You'd practically been taken under the wing of the previous captain since you first arrived.
Magda had joked once that it was a little like you were being groomed to take her place...
Pernille's awestruck as she stares. You hold yourself well as you talk, articulating your words perfectly even though she knows that you're probably shaking inside.
She's always thought that you turned into a different person when it came to football. You were strictly professional and confident when she knew you were a mess of anxiety sometimes. You seemed to be able to put it all aside for your football.
She'd seen how you command your back line during games, somehow making sure they knew exactly what you wanted them to do and how you wanted them to do it.
Pernille wonders, briefly, if she had been blind to put the United girl forward instead of you.
"I'm really looking forward to this summer," You say into the microphone," I'm grateful for my teammates for believing in me and Emma and the staff for giving me this opportunity. I'm hoping that I can help support my teammates so we can keep getting better and better."
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wanders-in-wonderland · 9 months
Text
Please Professor
It’s my first upper division English literature class and only a month into the semester but I’m already struggling and getting marked D’s and F’s on assignments. I can’t fail this class, I need it to keep my university scholarship to stay in school. I reach out to my professor, asking to meet with him for some extra guidance and he agrees, but only has availabilities late in the evenings. I’m happy to comply, making the trek from my dorm to the English building at 9pm for our first meeting.
The English department is on the edge of campus and when I walk into the building, the whole place looks deserted this late at night. His office is the only one with lights on and I knock softly on his open door before stepping in.
“Hi Professor, thank you so much for finding the time to meet with me for extra help!” He looks up from the papers he’s grading and smiles at me. “Not a problem, I know my class can be overwhelming for a lot of students who aren’t used to the rigor that I expect. Come in and take a seat, we’ll have you whipped up into shape in no time.” He steps out from behind his desk and closes the door behind me as I walk in. I’m too preoccupied with getting my notes out to notice that he turns the lock on the door, locking us in.
“Let’s talk about some of your recent work, and we’ll work on a few things I have my mind on to help with your technique.” He circles around to the bookcase against his wall, grabbing a textbook. “Oh go ahead and reach over my desk to grab that workbook on my desk. There are some exercises there that I think will help you.”
I stand and reach across his large, dark-stained wood desk to grab the book. Suddenly, he’s on me. Before I can straighten up, he grabs the back of my neck and slams me against his desk. I scream briefly as the workbook tumbles out of my hand and I find myself pressed against the desk, the front of my body flush on it while I’m bent over. Before I have time to react fully, he bends down over me, and whispers darkly, “Now don’t struggle, because I’d hate to have to fail you for being a bad student. And I know how badly you need my class to stay in your program so right now, you listen to me and be a good girl and maybe I’ll consider letting you pass my class.”
I cry out, “Stop please professor, I don’t understand, what are you doing?”
“Of course you don’t understand, you stupid little slut. Too dumb to even comprehend what’s going on around you huh?” He chuckles darkly and I feel his hand cup my ass briefly before it cracks down on me, spanking me harshly over my skirt.
“Ah, wait no! Please, you can’t do this!” I try and push up off the table but he’s too strong. “Oh no pretty slut, you are going to take whatever I give you or else I will fail you right now and you’ll be kicked out of the school by the end of the week. Do you want that instead?” His hand rests on my ass, kneading my flesh roughly and the other one increases the pressure on the back of my neck.
“Please, no,” I whimper brokenly. I feel him breathe deep against my hair and he groans softly. “You’re mine for the semester, slut. And you are going to do whatever I want, just to keep your pretty little self on your scholarship.”
I start to cry, shaking slightly as my tears are dripping down my face and onto his desk. His hand comes off my neck and I hold still, knowing I can’t fight back in any way. His hand flips my skirt up and he sees the white panties I’m wearing with pink little bows printed all over them. “So pretty, slut,” he says as he runs a finger down between the globes of my ass, towards my pussy. I whimper softly and my hands come to grip the side of his desk.
“I don’t want you making any noise,” he says and without warning, I feel his hand crack down on my ass again, this time with more force. The spank makes my body lurch forward on the desk, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from crying out. He doesn’t hesitate as he begins to rain down harsh spanks all over my ass and upper thighs. I cry harder, muffling my sobs as best I can as I feel each hit adding to the soreness.
He’s methodical as he continues, not stopping or slowing for what feels like hours. My ass and thighs are burning but slowly, I can feel my pussy reacting as well, swelling and starting to drip more and more with each hit. I squirm slightly, trying to discreetly rub my legs together to relieve some of the tension. He notices.
“You’re getting turned on by this aren’t you, slut?” He laughs softly and I whimper in protest, “Please no, I’m not, please stop.”
He grabs my neck again, “Don’t lie, that’s not the behavior of a good student. I can see your pretty pussy dripping through your panties from here, you dirty little slut.” I whimper, feeling my face burn as hot as my ass. He reaches down and slides a hand against my pussy, through my panties and I gasp. His fingers dance along my lips, my wetness making my panties cling to the outline of my cunt. Without warning, he grips my panties and tears them away from my body, leaving my pussy fully exposed and my skirt still bunched around my waist. I whimper and feel myself gush a little at his actions, the clench of my cunt making me feel even worse.
His fingers come to meet my bare body now, and he slides them against my slit, laughing when he feels how much I’m dripping. “Oh we’re gonna have fun this semester,” he says. His fingers pluck my swollen clit, and I arch my back and moan, the sound erupting out of me unbidden. He’s relentless as he works my clit quickly, my wetness letting his fingers slide deliciously over me, the friction making me eyes roll slightly. My legs are trembling as I feel my orgasm fast approaching and he knows it too. “Little slut, are you going to cum like this? All splayed out for your professor, so desperate for that passing grade that you’ll do anything, even degrade yourself like a common whore?” I whine softly, my head spinning from the pleasure as my pussy clenches.
I vaguely hear his belt jingling and the rustle of clothing but I’m too preoccupied with my approaching orgasm to understand what that means. He doesn’t let up on my clit and I can feel myself seconds from erupting, moans and whimpers coming out of my mouth desperately.
My body seizes and I feel my orgasm rush through me, making me let out a strangled moan as feeling hits. Suddenly, I feel his long, hard cock slam into my cunt and I wail. He fucks me hard and fast through my orgasm, not stopping to let me adjust to his length or his speed. I’m scrambling to stay on the desk as he rails into me, his harsh grunts in my ear and his bruising grip on my hips. “That’s it, squeeze my cock just like that, slut. Fuck, your cunt feels so good.”
My eyes roll back into my head as his cock pound into me, my previous orgasm hasn’t even faded before I feel a second one building. He doesn’t seem to care about slowing down to let me recover as he keeps his unforgiving pace, drilling into me and pulling groans and whimpers out of me. His hand goes back to play with my clit and I scream, the throbbing of my cunt mixed with his attention pushes my second orgasm over the edge. I feel my walls flutter around his cock and he groans in my ear as I cum, sobbing from the overstimulation. He doesn’t stop, he fucks me through my second orgasm, the rubbing of his cock against my g-spot making me see stars.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum in your tight little pussy slut.” I feel his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his orgasm. “I hope you’re on birth control, slut, because I’m gonna fill your cunt,” he says, his words punctuated by his thrusts. His groan is deep and guttural when he cums, the feeling of his cock erupting inside of me making my cunt clench harder around him, pulling him in. He stops for a second, letting his body cover mine, pressing even harder into the desk. His harsh breathing in my ear sends shivers down my spine.
“Flip over, get on the table, and hold yourself open,” his voice is gravelly as he pulls away from me, his cum dripping out of my cunt onto my legs. I whimper as I force my body to comply, pushing my sore and fucked out body onto his desk and spreading my legs, leaving my dripping cunt exposed to him. He smirks, “Stay there, slut.” He circles around his desk and I hear him opening a drawer and grabbing something before he comes back. It’s a vibrator. My eyes widen and I whimper, “Wait, no please. I can’t, it’s too much.” He leans into my face and growls darkly, “I don’t care, you’ll take what I give if you want to pass my class, got it slut?” I nod as tears start to fall again.
He clicks the vibrator on and I watch as the head blurs with its intensity. He brings it to my cunt, smirking slightly as he places his free hand on my hip, preemptively holding me down. His hand travels down and parts my folds to reveal my swollen clit, red and puffy from his previous attention. Without any preparation, he pushes the head of the vibrator directly on my clit and I scream. The intensity is so high and my body is already reeling from the overstimulation from his cock. The vibrator makes it all so much worse, but so good. I arch my back and buck my hips, desperately trying to dislodge him. “It’s time to earn your next grade, slut,” he says smirking.
“For every orgasm, you get 10%. Cum 10 times, and you’ll get 100% on the next essay.” My eyes widen and I sob, “No please, I can’t, please it’s too much!”
He smirks, “Or I could fail you now.”
“Ah please, no no no!” I’m crying, from the feeling of my poor clit being so thoroughly overstimulated and from the idea of him failing me. Despite my previous orgasms, I feel myself barreling towards another. The feeling builds as he grounds the vibrator harder against my clit, and I scream it out, feeling my pussy gush as I squirm and shake. He smirks, “10%.”
My next orgasm seems to blend with the first and I’m hardly coherent enough to process his words as he forces me to cum again and again.
Thirty minutes later, I’ve cum seven more times and my body is at its limit. “Please no more, please professor.” I’m almost unconscious, my voice cracking from my constant screaming and my cunt bright red from the vibrator. He’s uncaring as he stands over me, forcing my body to endure orgasm after orgasm.
“Just one more and you get a 100%, you’re so close, slut. Don’t stop now.” His smile is feral as he keeps the vibrator directly in my clit. My legs shake and I feel myself teetering at the edge of one more orgasm. The feeling overwhelms me, pain and pleasure blending into a euphoric feeling and my eyes roll and my back arches for one final time.
As the orgasm fades, my body lies limp, my legs dangling off his desk and head lolling. He finally clicks off the vibrator. “Good job slut, your first A in my class. Keep it up and maybe you’ll be passing in a month or so. I’ll see you next week same time.”
The semester ended last week and my grade for the class is already finalized on my transcript, an A+. But here I am, spread wide on his desk again, my cunt clenching and dripping around his cock as I cum like a perfect little whore for him.
“Such a good slut.”
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sunkissed-zegras · 3 months
Note
helping them undress as they tiredly tell you their day in brief
maybe with nico?
𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 | nh¹³
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♡ ─ word count | 937
♡ ─ warnings | hurt/comfort?? nico being tired, but just overall fluff content
♡ ─ ev's notes | I LOVE NICO SO MUCHHHH UGH :(
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Nico's expression was tired as he stumbled into his living room, throwing his bag across the room. It had been another tiring practice and he felt like he was about to pass out from exhaustion. Not only was practice long and demanding, he barely got any sleep last night and he could not figure why.
He heard the TV and looked on the couch, where you were sitting waiting for him to come home. You turned around at the sound of the door opening and got up happily, a warm smile on your face. Even with his exhaustion, Nico's lips curved up into a smile once he saw you.
"Hey baby!" Your warm voice soothed him immediately as he wrapped his arms around you in an embrace. You could feel how stressed he was just by hugging him, you rubbed his back silently as you both stood there. "You tired?"
Nico let out a tired sigh as he leaned his head against your shoulder, relishing in the comfort of your embrace. "Exhausted," he admitted, his voice muffled against your shirt. "I don't know what's up with me. I just couldn't sleep last night."
You ran your fingers through his hair, understanding evident in your touch. "I'm sorry to hear that, love," you murmured sympathetically. "Maybe it's just stress catching up with you. You've been pushing yourself so hard lately."
Nico nodded, his eyes closing briefly as he let your words sink in. "Yeah, maybe," he agreed softly. "I just... I don't want to let anyone down, you know? There's so much pressure, and I feel like I have to be at the top of my game all the time."
You squeezed him tighter. "You don't have to do it alone, Nico," you reassured him, your voice filled with love. "I'm here for you, no matter what. And I know the team is, too. You're not in this alone."
Nico nodded against your shoulder, his grip tightening a bit before he finally let go. "Yeah, it was a rough one today."
"I know but it's okay, you just need some sleep and it'll be fine." Your warm voice had soothed him as he nodded slowly. "Now come on, let's get you out of those sweaty clothes and into bed. You need some rest."
He nodded as he let you lead him to his room. He sat on the bed as you walked up in between his legs, his hands on your hips as you looked down at his warm brown eyes. You helped him take off his shirt and he let out a tired sigh as the fabric slipped off his shoulders, his muscles relaxing a fraction under your gentle touch.
As the shirt fell to the floor, you couldn't help but admire the lines of his tired face, the determination that still flickered in his eyes despite the weariness that clouded them. "You've been working so hard," you murmured, your voice laced with concern.
Nico met your gaze, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I have to," he replied softly, his voice tinged with resignation. "I want to be my best, for myself and for the team."
You nodded in understanding, your fingers trailing lightly along his jawline, soothing away the tension you found there. "And you are," you assured him, your voice unwavering. "But even the best need rest, Nico. You can't keep pushing yourself like this."
He sighed, leaning into your touch as if seeking comfort in your words. "I know," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I just... I don't want to let anyone down."
Your heart ached at the raw honesty in his words, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him like a heavy burden. "You won't," you promised, your voice firm.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice laced with exhaustion yet filled with appreciation. As you finished undressing him, he couldn't help but admire the kindness in your eyes.
Once he was in more comfortable clothes, you guided him under the covers. Nico settled into the softness of the mattress, exhaustion weighing heavily on him. You joined him, sitting on the edge of the bed and running your fingers through his hair.
"I wish I knew why I couldn't sleep," Nico confessed, his voice a mixture of frustration and fatigue. "It's like my mind just won't shut off."
You continued to stroke his hair, "sometimes it happens, love."
"You sleepin' here tonight?" Nico yawned as he blinked up at you, his under eyes dark with exhaustion.
You smiled down at him, a reassuring glint in your eyes. "Of course, I am. Right by your side," you replied. "I'll make sure you get a good night's sleep."
You let Nico close his eyes as you got under the covers with him, the warm enveloping you. As soon as you laid down, Nico's arms found you and pulled you even closer. His touch was gentle but somehow possessive, seeking reassurance that you were there with him.
Wrapped in the cocoon of warmth, you nestled against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. The room was filled with a quiet calmness as the two of you found solace in each other's company.
"Thank you," Nico mumbled, his voice soft and drowsy.
You pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. "No need to thank me. We take care of each other, right?"
Nico nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Right," he whispered, his exhaustion making his words even more endearing. "I love you." Nico muttered and your heart swelled.
"I love you too, Nico."
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-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-
thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 4 months
Text
Taking care of his girls (part 2)
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)
Warnings: none really..a bit intimate but not much and some spanish from google translate..
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Part 1 here
y/n's pov
The next morning I got up feeling much better because this was the first time in the last 5 days that I slept throughout the whole night. Bea didn't wake up once during the night but slept peacefully between me and Carlos.
She looked so cute with her shaggy morning hair and chubby little cheeks. She was sleeping all the way on Carlos' side almost pushing him off the bed. I love mornings like this when all three of us are in bed together and when we start the day off with cuddling in Carlos' arms. Nothing can compare to that feeling.
I decided to sneak out of bed and let them both sleep so they could rest as I made my way to the kitchen to make myself some coffee and breakfast for all of us.
After taking a sip of coffee from the cup, I took the eggs out of the fridge and cracked them into a bowl. Just as I started mixing them I felt a pair of hands on my waist and a soft kiss on my cheek.
"Buenos dias, mi amor." Carlos says with his raspy morning voice pulling me into his naked chest.
"Morning baby" I turn around to face him giving him a peck on the lips.
"Why are you up so early?"
"I wanted to make you some breakfast as a thank you for taking care of Bea the past two nights and letting me sleep."
"You never need to thank me for that. That's my duty." He says tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I love how protective he is of Bea and me.
Carlos has been exposed to the media all his life and has long been used to it, but that wasn't the case with me. I've always been a very private person and it was very hard for me to adjust to the pressure of the public when we first started dating. Cameras everywhere, reporters, countless questions, it was all very new to me and it all made me very anxious.
When I started going to the races with him, he always held my hand tightly in his grip, always asking if I was okay, always making sure the press didn't bother me and with all that it was much easier for me to get used to the new world I stepped into with him. Over time I got used to it all, but his protective side never diminished.
"Are you feeling any better?"
"Yes, much better. I'm not at 100% yet, but I will be soon." I assure him not to worry.
"Tal vez necesitas que papi te ayude a llegar ahí?" He asks biting my lower lip and lifting me up making me sit on the kitchen counter. Maybe you need daddy to help you get there?
"That would be nice." I smirk wrapping my arms around his neck.
"Ah, sí?" His hands start making their way up my thighs and his lips move to my neck.
"Mhm" I groan softly enjoying the feeling. Lately we don't have time for each other nor our needs so the feeling of desire for him increases day by day.
"I missed you so much. I couldn't wait to get home to you." Every word he says causes an immense feeling of warmth to spread through my body so I pull him with my legs closer to me roaming his naked back with my hands.
"I need you so bad Carlos.."
"Me tienes amor, soy sólo tuyo. " You have me love, I'm only yours.
Just as he was about to pull down my pyjama shorts, a loud cry is heard coming from our bedroom.
"No.." I squeal pressing my thighs together. Carlos sighs smiling as he leans his forehead against mine for a moment.
"I'll go get her." He lifts my chin with his finger and gives me a kiss before heading to our bedroom to check on Bea. "Ya voy bebe" I'm coming baby
Later that day we got ready and decided to visit Carlos' parents. Although we don't see each other very often due to work and other commitments we do have a great relationship with them. We are very close and they love spending time with their only granddaughter.
"Y quien es ese? Mi único y mayor tesoro!" Carlos' dad said kneeling down, his eyes lit up as Bea shyly ran into his arms. And who is that? My only and biggest treasure!
"Mi cielo. Te recuperaste?" Reyes asks joining the hug. My darling. Did you recover?
"She's better, still coughing a bit but it's all good now." I say.
"And you my dear? You should've told us you were sick, I would've come to help you with her!"
"It's okay, I didn't want you to get sick too. As soon as she saw Carlos she immediately got better." I say making everyone laugh sweetly.
The rest of the day was spent with the boys and Bea playing with Piñon and me helping Reyes with dinner in the kitchen. We chatted about various things, including whether Carlos and I were planning to have more children soon, which totally caught me off guard.
"Well, I don't know, we haven't really talked about it yet. Right now all our attention is focused on Bea because she is a rather demanding child." I chuckle looking over at her bossing Piñon around.
"I'm sure she would love to be a big sister! She would quickly get used to it." Reyes says.
"Oh I don't know, she's quite a lot to handle let me tell you that-"
"Bea va a ser hermana mayor? Vamos a tener otro nieto?" Suddenly Carlos's dad joins the conversation, all excited even though he misunderstood everything. Bea is going to be a big sister? We're going to have another grandchild?
I'm standing there blushing because I don't know what to say to one or the other because people obviously immensely want another grandchild. I start stuttering and smiling awkwardly, searching with my gaze for Carlos. He notices that something is happening, so he soon comes to us with Bea in his arms.
"No no no! Y/n no está embarazada, solo le pregunté si hablaban de tener más hijos!" Reyes starts explaining to him, waving her hands annoyed that he misunderstood everything. No no no. Y/n is not pregnant, I just asked her if they were talking about having more children.
Carlos still has no idea what we're talking about so he just stands there all confused listening carefully, but struggling to understand us.
"Amo a mi nieta más en el mundo, pero quiero al menos un nieto más. No sé a qué estás esperando? Carlos? Qué te detiene?" I love my granddaughter the most in the world, but I want at least one more grandchild. I don't know what you're waiting for? Carlos? What's stopping you?
When Carlos finally connected the dots, he burst out laughing at his father's demands and assumptions that something's stopping him from getting me pregnant again.
"Papá, lo único que me detiene es que Bea no nos deja estar sin ella. Cuando estés listo para cuidarla durante un día entero, tendrás otro nieto." Dad, the only thing stopping me is that Bea won't let us be without her. When you're ready to babysit her for a whole day, you'll have another grandchild.
"Carlos!" I gasp at his words slightly hitting his arm.
"Estoy listo para cuidarla!" Carlos' dad proudly says as everyone laughs and I cover my red face with my hands. I'm ready for babysitting her!
"Everything is fine love, we'll just pick up where we left off this morning." He whispers quietly pulling me into a hug.
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hughes86-43 · 2 months
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My Person | L.Hughes
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summary - you and Luke have been each other’s person, it just has taken a while for you both to realize it.
note - I’ve been working on this for a while, and I wanted to get out before I dive into the blurb night requests. I hope you like it!
warnings - a little bit of angst, mentions of parties and drinking, but other than that nothing else (if there’s more let me know!). maybe some grammar errors
masterlist
Ever since you met Luke at a frat party at the University of Michigan, you two have always been each other’s ‘person’. Constantly looking for each other in a crowded room, calling each other when something happened, going to eat after a stressful day, or hanging out with each other with shared friends.
Truthfully, you don’t really know how it happened. You were both new to the university, he had hockey friends and you had friends of those friends. Your friends had convinced you one late September night to go to a frat party with them, although it was late you agreed, and then you got introduced to the hockey team, but you hadn’t met Luke yet. It was overall a great night, and nearing 11:30, you decided to take a break from talking with everyone and the drinking games, and made your way outside to sit on the patio couch. The drinking was starting to catch up to you as a headache was coming on.
Rubbing your forehead to try to release the pressure, you didn’t even notice that someone had made their way outside. “Hey, are you okay?” Startled by hearing someone, you look up and see a guy standing there wearing a black Michigan shirt with jeans.
Waving him off, you reply back, “Oh, yeah, just got a headache coming on.” He nods his head, but walks to go sit on the other chair. You lean back into the couch you’re on.
After a moment of awkward silence between you, although the crowd inside was nothing but, the guy speaks up again, “Why are you out here?” He’s busy looking off to the side while he asks it.
“Um it was just getting to be a bit too much for me, just needed a breather.” You shyly laugh, looking at him. “Why are you out here? Since you asked me.”
He finally turns his head to look at you, he says, “I guess I could say the same. One can only handle a drunk Dylan Duke for only a little bit.” He can’t help but to let out a laugh.
Remembering the name he just said from meeting all the hockey players earlier in the night, you ask him, “He’s on the hockey team right? Are you on the hockey team?”
He nods his head and says, “Yeah, I am. Are you friends with him?”
Shaking your head, “Oh, no, some of my friends are, I just met him and all the rest of the players earlier tonight.”
“Oh. I guess I got here a little bit after that. Anyway, since you met the others, I guess I could introduce myself,” he says with a laugh, “My name is Luke.” He leans forward and holds out a hand for you to shake.
Deciding if you should, you lean forward and shake his hand. “I’m Y/N.” He smiles at you, and let’s go of your hand and leans back in his chair.
From then on, every party that you both ended up at, you two would constantly be searching for each other. For you, there was something about him that seemed to make you calm down, and for him, he found you absolutely captivating by how you seem to hold the stance of everyone around you.
For months of freshman year, if anybody needed to know where either one of you were, they just needed to find one of you. They knew if they needed Luke, that he would be with you and it was the same for the other way around.
Sometimes his friends, like Dylan and Ethan, would constantly chirp at him as soon as he made it to a party you weren’t at.
“Hey Lukeyyy, Y/N isn’t here tonight I don’t think, what will you ever do!” Dylan would say as Luke walked into a party instantly looking around for you.
“How’d you even know I was looking for her anyway?” Luke would say shyly to him.
Ethan stepped in to say something. “Oh, please. As if you don’t look around at each party for her everytime.” Luke would just end up walking away from them to go grab a drink and then text you to see where you were and if you were okay. You would always be quick to reassure him that you were not feeling it that night and he could always come by your dorm if he wanted to (he always wanted to and he would always leave the party to find you).
When it came to Michigan hockey games, you were always trying your best to be at them. Every morning of a home game, Luke would text you to make sure you were going to be able to make it. If there was an away game, he would make sure you were going to able to keep up with the game. Not only were you there to support your schools team, you were mostly there to be Luke’s number one fan, which you never failed to tell someone if they asked.
You would make sure to always wear Michigan colors and you always would make sure to wear something Luke related. When you first told Luke you were interested in going to the hockey games, he made sure to give you a little necklace that had the number “43” on it, which only made it seem like you two were an item (possibly that what Luke wanted).
One time when he was extra anxious before a big game, you gave him your lucky blue bracelet that you wore every time you were anxious yourself. Luke knew how much you loved and cherished that bracelet, so he was extra grateful that you let him wear it. Not to mention that was probably one the moments that he fell in love with you more.
At the end of freshman year, you were busy with finals and packing to go back home when it all become too much. After spending the majority of the day with your head in a textbook and looking at your laptop, you were feeling the affects of not much sleep and all your anxieties piling up on top of you. When you decided you needed a break, you made your way to Luke’s place. He had barely heard from you in two days, he knew you were busy.
When you got there, he could see the tiredness and the emotional state that you were in. Pulling you into his room, he lets you sit on his bed as you spill out all that you are worrying about. When all of a sudden you were struggling to breathe, Luke pulled you into his arm and rubbed his hand up and down your arm to calm you down. He knew you weren’t sleeping much, so he let you lay down in his bed to rest. He was just going to let you rest while he went and did some errands, but you grabbed his hand and had him lay down with you. He instantly laid down with you and let you sleep until the next day. In the morning, you realized your feelings for him had grown.
During the summer break, you were back in your hometown, while Luke was back at his brothers’ lake house. He invited you to come over for a few weeks, but you wanted to at least go home for a bit before going. While you were away from him, you two never failed to FaceTime each other and text one another about all the things you did.
When you went to the lake house after not seeing him for about a month, you both couldn’t have been happier to see each other. You had met his parents, Ellen and Jim, at a few home games, and had even gone out to dinner with them, but you hadn’t met his brothers. His parents absolutely adored you and were secretly hoping you two would get together (at least that’s what they would tell Quinn and Jack). You knew as soon as you got to the lake house you were going to have to meet Quinn and Jack. You were nervous about meeting them for some reason, which was weird since you weren’t as nervous when meeting Ellen and Jim. It was just due to them two being his older brothers and they were constantly looking out for him.
You instantly hit it off with Jack when you met him after he came back in from being on the boat. You both had joked over how Luke was falling off the wake board every time he tried to get on it for at least a week. (Luke was offended you were teaming up with Jack to go against him). However, getting along with Quinn was a bit harder.
With Quinn, you decided that he was just looking out for Luke and didn’t want to see him get hurt, even though you two weren’t dating. Over the three weeks you were at the lake house, Quinn slowly began to notice how good you were for Luke. This was especially true when he saw how you never failed to make Luke laugh over anything and everything. He also saw how much Luke was in love with you. He had pulled Jack aside multiple times to see if he had noticed it too (he had) and they both made a bet on when you two would get together.
Anytime Jack’s friends, Trever, Cole and Alex, were over, they were constantly asking Jack if you and Luke were together. Everybody seemed to understand you two had feelings for each other besides you and Luke.
While you were at the lake house, you were there for Luke’s draft day. He had been nervous all day for it, but you were constantly reassuring him all would go well and made sure he had your bracelet. You were so happy when he was selected by New Jersey, as you knew how much he wanted to be back with Jack. Once the excitement of the night calmed down, you had sneaked into his room and laid with him all night long talking about anything and everything.
Sadly, summer came and went. The start of sophomore year for you and Luke was in full force. Somehow during the craziness of school starting, you slowly started to realize that you may have feelings for Luke. From the shy glances to him across the room that has him sending you a smile or the early morning coffee and breakfast meetups or the constant calling each other over the smallest thing that comes up, but you don’t ever tell him, and he never tells you.
Once school was in full swing, holidays came and went, parties came and went, assignments came and went, and hockey games came and went all leading up to Luke’s last game with Michigan hockey. You made it to the game, and you were nervous but it was mostly for him. You knew how nervous he was throughout the whole day leading up to the game, as he never failed to tell you when he was anxious. You knew he was leaving as soon as the game was over, you just had to prepare yourself to see your best friend leaving.
At the end of the game, he finds you. Pulling you into a hug, he says into your neck, “Thanks for being here tonight. Tough loss, but I don’t have time to think about that.”
Pulling back from him, you smile. “You gotta start heading out, don’t you?”
He gives you a sad smile and a nod. “Yeah, I do. But I’ll text you when I land, and anytime after that. Call anytime, I mean it! If I don’t answer, then text me and I’ll call you back.”
“You need to stay focus when you get there, I don’t want to burden all my problems on you.”
Rubbing his thumb in circles on your arm, he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. I like listening to your problems and everything else, and plus I’ll be calling you constantly about mine so it will be even!” He laughs and pulls you into another hug.
“Alright, I gotta go. Be careful getting home,” Luke says. You stay there in that spot, watching him walk away, but he turns around and yells, “You better text me when you make it home so I know you made it safely!” You manage to let out a laugh and nod your head and give him a thumbs up. Once he made it out the doors, you made your way to find Dylan, as he was your ride.
“You know, why don’t you just confess that you like him as more than a friend?” Dylan says as he puts an arm around your shoulder as you both walk.
“Uh I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say as you eye him down out of the corner of your eye.
“Hmmm, yeah sure. Whatever you say. Just saying, you both act more like a couple than any other couple I have seen.”
That whole conversation with Dylan stayed in your head for weeks after that. With Luke gone to New Jersey, you two still called each other or texted each other, but it soon became limited to a few text or calls during the week, as you were busy with school and he was busy with playoffs. On your part, the lack of communication with him was that you were scared of your ever growing feelings for him. You were scared that he didn’t feel the same or that he would no longer be your best friend, so you limited yourself on how much you talked to him.
Luke thought it was weird that you weren’t talking to him as much. He would call you but you would just talk to him for five minutes and then have to hang up. He was glad to finally be playing in the NHL, but he hated that he couldn’t see you or talk to you everyday like he did. He was constantly asking Dylan and the other guys if you were okay and what you were up to, which made their theory of him liking you grow even more.
When the Devils played the Hurricanes in the playoffs, Ellen saw how much Luke missed you, and with school ending, she invited you out to game five. You were weary about going, but honestly you had to see him. It had been a long while without him. You knew it would be a complete surprise to Luke.
The game was rough, and sadly they lost so they were out of the running. You were even more nervous to see Luke now that they lost. You followed Ellen and Jim down to the boys. You stayed behind his parents as Luke and Jack hugged each one. Once Luke pulled away from Jim, his eyes finally landed on you.
Although he was shocked to see you, he made his way to you. He instantly pulled you into a hug, squeezing you so tight as if he had to make sure you were actually there.
“I can’t believe you’re here, How’d you even get here?” Luke says as he pulls away from you, keeping his hands on your arms.
“Ellen flew me in. You know I had to see you play in a NHL game sooner or later,” you give him a smile.
“Yeah, if only we had won,” he mumbles.
“I’m sorry, I know you guys have been working hard, and to have made it this far is still pretty good.”
“I know, but enough of that, my night has just gotten better now that you’re here.” You felt your heart instantly melt at his words. You only hoped that he meant it in a way that meant something more.
Hearing someone clearing their throat behind you, you look to see that Jack is looking very impatient. “Okay, lovers or whatever you are, I’m hungry so let’s go get food, unless you two are going to stay here all day staring at each other then we will leave you.” At his words, Ellen smacks his arm telling him to shush.
Knowing that he is upset with the loss of the game, and not wanting to make him even more upset, you and Luke follow them outside of the arena to the car.
Once dinner ended, you and Luke made your way back to his hotel room, bidding goodnight to his parents and Jack, who just weirdly smiled at you and kept raising his eyebrows. Walking into Luke’s hotel room, you anxiously stand around for a second before walking to the chair in the room and sitting your bag on it.
You’re sitting on the bed picking at your nails, when Luke speaks up from across the room. “I missed you, you know?”
Looking up at him, you see him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, like something is bothering him. “I missed you a lot too, actually,” you voice back. Expecting him to say something sweet back, but he just scoffs at your reply.
“Really? Because it really didn’t seem like you did.”
You tilt your head at him since you don’t know what he’s so upset about. “What do you mean? I called, I texted all the time.”
He laughs, “Yeah but only every other day or so, and when I called you, you seemed to be in such a hurry to get off the phone!”
“Well, I had things to do!” Now you were getting upset as well at him.
“I had things to do as well! But I made sure to always call or text you, since that’s what I promised to do!” He says while running his hand through his hair. “I was completely stressed out after a game the other day, and I wanted nothing else to do but call my best friend to tell her about it, but she didn’t answer and left me a measly text!” His voice is starting to get louder.
“You know, I had to go through Dylan and the guys to figure out if you were actually okay! They always said that you were, and they were just as confused as I was about you not talking to me!” He turns his head from you to look at the wall, trying to take a moment to calm down.
Standing up from the bed, you say, “Well, maybe I just didn’t want to talk to you! I- um- well- I thought that maybe if I didn’t talk to you, you wouldn’t figure out how I felt.”
Whipping his head back to you, he asks, “What do you mean how you felt?”
Sighing, you reply, “Nothing, forget I said anything.”
Walking over to you, he shakes his head. “Oh, no, no, no. I finally get to hear you talk, and I now don’t want you to stop. So say what you meant.”
Deciding to just suck it up and tell him, you breathe out and then look up into his eyes. “Fine, I like you as more than a friend. Wait- actually I think I may love you more than a friend.” You continue to stare into his eyes as you wait for a response.
After a few seconds, he starts to smile. “You mean to tell me that you wouldn’t talk to me because you loved me as more than a friend?” He actually lets out a laugh.
Crossing your arms, you mumble, “Okay, if you going to laugh, just forget I said anything.”
His smile falters. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh that way, I just mean that I find it funny you wouldn’t talk to me because you actually love me when I feel the exact same way as you.”
Your arms fall to your side at his confession and your cheeks start to turn red. “What?”
“Listen, I love you more than anything in this world. You are the only person that I voice my worries to, you are the only person that cares so much about me, you are the only person who can make me laugh or whatever no matter what. You are my person. I want nothing more than to be your person. I want to be the person you call no matter what, I want to be the person that is always there for you, and I want to be the person who always makes you laugh.” He finally lets out a breath, as if he has been holding in how he truly felt for you forever (he has).
“Luke, honey, you have always been my person. I just don’t think I truly realized it until before you left, hell I think everyone realized a year ago,” you stifle out a laugh, looking at him with blurry eyes.
Luke lets out a laugh as well. “I know, Dylan, my brothers, my parents have all been trying to get me to just tell you. Not to mention, I definitely think they have a bet going on.” He walks closer to you and doesn’t hesitate for a second to pull you into his arms.
You wrap your arms around his back, rubbing them up and down, and then pulling him in tighter. You never want to let him go, and he never wants to let you go either. “So what does this mean for us?” He pulls back to look at you, you lift a hand to move some curls out of his face.
He gives you a shy smile as he says, “I think this means that I can finally ask if you’ll be my girlfriend?”
“I think that would only make sense. So yes, I’ll be your girlfriend!”
“Great because I’ve been dying to kiss you ever since I seen you outside of that frat party over a year ago!”
“Maybe if you did kiss me at that party, then it would have sped up this process,” you joke.
“Hmmm, imma kiss you now.”
Once your lips meet, it’s like all of sudden all of the pieces that had been missing are all of a sudden mended back together. You both kiss each other like your lives depend on it, like you need each other’s touch to live, and maybe you do.
Suddenly needing air, you break apart. You lean your forehead against his, and the smile on your face is still going strong.
“You know, we’re going to have to now tell everyone that they were right about us.”
He laughs, “Yeah, and they’re never going to shut up about it!”
“They better give us half of the money from their bets.”
“Ugh, Jack’s going to be so annoying when we tell him.”
You nod, “Yeah, maybe we tell him last so that he is a little bit less annoying about it.”
“Doesn’t matter, he’ll have an ego no matter what,” he says. “I love you so much.”
“I love you so much too,” you say, running your fingers through his hair.
“I’m glad, now come on, I’m exhausted after this long night. I’ve been dying to cuddle with you.”
“And you wonder why everyone thought we were together.” You say as he leads you to the bed.
You knew that all you ever needed was each other. You were his person and Luke was your person. It may have taken a while to realize it, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.
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sorrowsofsilence · 4 months
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Diagnosis • Sebastian
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Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader
Words: 4.1k
Warnings: Smut (18+, fingering, female!receiving), PnV pls wrap it b4 u tap it, male!recieving, choking, doctor x patient (uncomfy situation so pls don't read if the idea of a doctor being unethical isn't your vibe- it is also not my vibe but yk, Dr. Davis can do anything to me lol)
Prompt: You had no idea your past highschool school hook-up would be your substitute doctor during your annual check-up; but let's just say you were in desperate need of a physical.
Author note: LOL I AM GOING TO HELLLLL - but also I've seen so many Dr. Davis ideas I had to create one myself; so thank you to especially (@valiantroeagleangel) whose work inspired me. You are wonderful. And shout out to some sexy phrases by @loveisanimaginarydagger3000 - I’m weak
THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!
Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d  @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch
(I wasn't sure who I should tag, and if you would like to be tagged in one-shots please let me know! If you’d like to me to remove you as well pls also let me know!! I just took some tags that I've had in past one-shots, and those I think would enjoy! <3)
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You picked at your fingernails nervously as you sat in the waiting room, your leg bouncing up and down rapidly.
Something about Doctors’ offices always made you nervous, especially when it involved a doctor that wasn’t your own. You were getting a routine check-up and your first pap smear, scheduled with your regular doctor, but she had a last-minute family emergency. This meant you were going to be inspected by someone else, and that thought made you slightly uneasy.
You played with the mask that covered your nose, pinching at the metal band that rested on the bridge before tugging at the string.
The old woman next to you watched your anxious wading with curious eyes, and you simply shifted in your seat, avoiding her gaze.
Your name was finally called and you followed the nurse, allowing her to check your height, and then leading you into a room located at the end of the hall.
She sat you down, your legs crunching beneath the paper as she placed the blood pressure bump along your arm, squeezing until it tightened and let go.
“Your blood pressure seems to be a little high?” She said, eyebrows furrowing.
You rubbed your hands nervously between your thighs, “I’m just a little anxious.”
Her eyes smiled, indicating a soft grin beneath the mask she wore, “You’ll be just fine. Dr. Davis is a fantastic doctor.”
His name rang off her tongue, piquing your interest. Davis. You knew someone with that last name in high school.
“You can take your mask off in here by the way. Just set it on the side.” She nodded before leaving and you sat there for a few more moments, nervously shifting in your seat.
After a few minutes, you heard a soft knock on the door and you sat up straight, anticipating the man who would be taking care of you today.
The door opened and a man with soft chestnut hair that fell slightly in front of his face walked in, thin-framed glasses sat promptly on top of his nose, covered by a black mask. He hadn’t looked up from the clipboard that was in his hands as he kicked the door closed with his foot gently, tattooed fingers holding up the top page as his eyes skimmed rapidly over the words.
“How’s it going? I’m Dr. Davis.” His voice fell from his lips in a firm but gentle tone and your eyes widened in surprise as you remembered the faint lisp at the end of his ‘s’, and the twang in his accent.
“Hi,” you whispered as you absorbed his image, eyes skimming over his white coat that draped down his long body. The light-blue button-up sat tightly against his neck. You swallowed gently at the ink that crawled just above the collar, sinched between a black tie traced with binary code as the pattern.
“Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked with a curious tone, gaze immediately leaving the page as his orbs met your own, and your heart raced as his ochre eyes bore into yours.
His professionalism dropped slightly as his eyes skimmed over your face in recognition, and your lips parted slightly. He stood still, frozen in remembrance before he coughed, setting the clipboard on the counter and taking a seat next to his computer.
Noah Sebastian Davis is your doctor.
He immediately avoided your gaze as your face began to warm, and you crossed your legs, feeling vulnerable under his authority as he sat there, distracting himself with his computer.
Your high school hookup is your doctor.
“Well,” He began typing, a soft waver barely evident in his voice, “It’s been a long time.”
“Thirteen years,” You licked your lips quickly, smiling shyly as you stared at your legs, glancing up every so often to steal a look at your doctor. You felt even more nervous than before as the man who sat in front of you eventually turned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he watched you intensely.
“Look, let’s just keep this professional. If you’re more comfortable with someone else I can get another doctor in here.” He said monotonously, leaning over his lap as his elbows rested on his knees.
You mustered a small smile as your chest hammered, eyes grazing across the tattoos embedded into his fingers Memories of the way they used to dance along your skin left your stomach swirling.
“It’s alright, I don’t mind…” Your thoughts trailed off as you looked at the ground, “if you don’t mind?”
Dr. Davis maintained strict eye contact, his voice proper and fixed, “It’s my job to remain professional and competent. I strive for nothing but efficiency, and I’ll have you in and out Mrs. Y/L/N.”
“Miss,” You corrected quietly, picking at your nails again.
Something flashed across his eyes at the realization, and your ears flushed as you adjusted yourself on the examination table.
He turned on the chair again, fingers tapping on the keyboard.
“Let’s go through some medical history to clarify things under your files. It seems you usually have Dr. Thomas, am I correct?”
You hummed in confirmation, nodding along.
“Any health concerns to bring up in your visit today?”
You shook your head, “Just a routine check-up and a pap smear.”
Dr. Davis nodded along, shifting in his seat at the mention of a pap, his hand reaching to pull against his collar as if loosening the tension that was building within the room.
“Any issues regarding mental health?”
You shook your head.
“Eating and drinking well?”
You nodded.
“Any allergies?”
You shook your head.
“Sexually active?”
You noticed his voice hither slightly, as he glanced over at you briefly, before fixating his eyes on the computer again.
“Not like, regularly.”
He shifted in his seat, nodding.
“Multiple partners?”
“Uhm,” you began to stutter nervously at his questions, “A few. Not frequently changing.”
It was a routine check-up, you reminded yourself. Doctors asked these questions.
You shrugged, eyes skimming up towards him again as his eyes bore into you once again, your abdomen clenching as his gaze darkened.
“How many since me?”
You coughed, caught off guard as you stared at him in disbelief, “P-pardon?”
He didn’t repeat the question, but instead continued typing, clicking away at your file.
“Three,” You then said, watching him carefully and he hummed in response.
“Anything else you think I should know?” He asked, returning to his cool, professional composure.
You shook your head again, watching as his chest heaved slowly as he stood up. He grabbed the stethoscope that hung around his neck, and you watched as he placed the ends in his ears before standing in front of you, maintaining a distance.
“Let me check your lungs… can you take your jacket off?” He asked, watching you carefully as you peeled off the layer, placing it to the side.
Dr. Davis then sat next to you on the examination table and your heart began to pick up pace at the proximity of his body, his cologne melting into your senses.
His shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned behind you to place the end of the stethoscope on top of your back.
He asked you to take in a deep breath, and you inhaled swiftly, attempting to exhale in a slow, controlled pattern; but the breath that left your lungs was shaky and uneven.
“Sorry,” you whispered, and he ran the stethoscope across your back again, this time placing it underneath your shirt, the cold metal causing a shiver to run down your body.
“Three more,” He asked gently and you obliged, each breath faltering again as your heart raced.
There was no doubt he could hear the thump of your heart pick up as his warm fingers gently skimmed your skin as he controlled the stethoscope; knowing how nervous his proximity made you.
He pulled away, staring at your flushed face before leaning behind you to grab an ear otoscope.
“Just going to check your ears,” he said as his warm hands pulled along your ear, his warm breath creating goosebumps along the skin in your neck as the hairs stood up.
Your stomach butterflied as he then grabbed a wooden popsicle stick, standing in front of you now, placed between your legs.
“open,” he commanded and you obliged, sticking out your tongue and making an ‘ah’ sound.
Dr. Davis held underneath your chin to look up at him as he placed the wood on top of your tongue, pressing down slightly. Your abdomen clenched as a rush of emotions ran through your body, making eye contact with the tattooed doctor as he stared back, not even looking at the back of your throat as your mouth was agape, open widely for him.
You wanted nothing more than to reach up and pull against the fabric of his mask, greedily wanting to expose his lips to see the rest of his face and smile, to see how handsome he had gotten with age.
Your chest heaved as his fingers slid from underneath your chin, trailing down your throat with firm but gentle fingertips, the tension between you building as seconds passed by. He pulled back his hand, along with the popsicle stick, and your mouth closed slowly as he took a step back.
As he turned from you, the way he slid his hand into his pocket to readjust himself didn’t go unnoticed, before he faced you again, nodding curtly.
“I’ll let you get undressed from the waist down. You can place this blanket over yourself, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He averted his gaze as he opened the door, closing it gently behind him.
You let out a breath as your mind began to race. The way your mind kept tracing back to years of messing around with him in high school sent your stomach into a lustful spiral, the warmth of his inked fingers relighting years of memories he engraved into your skin.
Noah had given you years of orgasms, some of the best you ever had. None of your other lovers had compared to him, and your body knew this, sparking complete excitement at his presence once again.
You shifted on your feet embarrassed at this, peeling off your jeans as you folded them neatly on the chair. You slid off your black panties, placing them on top of your pants before lying down on the bed, the cool air causing you to shiver.
Or perhaps, it was the fact Noah was going to be extremely close to your intimate space after so many years of deprivation.
You two hooked up on and off for years during adolescence, never forming a relationship beyond that; even though you always wanted to.
You always had feelings for Noah, but you knew he wanted nothing more than to fuck you senselessly, and then part ways. No strings attached.
After high school graduation, you two parted, never speaking to each other again. You had always wondered what he had gone off and set to do, and being a doctor was honestly the last thing you’d think he’d do. Noah had always been extremely smart, but it still came as a complete shock when he was the one who walked through that wooden door just fifteen minutes prior.
You covered yourself with the thin blanket and a moment later Dr. Davis came through the door again, glancing at your exposed legs before turning to grab a pair of gloves from the counter.
You watched him intensely as he pulled the latex over his fingers, almost drooling at the thought of them running along your folds. You shook away the thought, knowing that you would be completely dripping by the time he would be sitting between your legs, examining you.
The last thing you wanted was for him to know the effect he still had on you, even after all these years.
He made eye contact with you again, tugging at the tie around his neck once again as he took the chair, rolling it to the edge of your feet. Before sitting he pulled out the stirrups.
“You can rest your heels on here,” He pointed to the plastic, and you noticed how his ears began to flush red, his chest rising and falling quickly as he glanced into your eyes once again.
When he looked away you glanced down at his black slacks, swallowing harshly at the bold outline of his erection that was extremely evident, through his tight pants.
You swallowed as you slowly lifted your legs, exposing yourself to the man who now sat at the end of the bed, the thin blanket sliding down your thighs gently, leaving your body on display for Dr. Davis.
“Fuck.”
The word was barely audible. He had whispered it so quietly through gritted teeth, but you still managed to hear the four-letter word, and it sent another rush of warm lust through your body.
“I-I’m just going to examine you before inserting the speculum.” Dr. Davis’ professional tone faltered briefly, and you wanted to look down at him so badly.
You knew that he was aroused, but you had no idea how badly Noah wanted to tear into your pussy right then and there.
For years Noah wondered what happened to you. After years of dedication to med school, he didn’t have much time to form relationships, and he usually had a quick fuck here and there to tie over his cravings. He reminisced frequently about how good you felt wrapped around his cock, all of his past flings never making him feel quite how you did.
This morning when he agreed to substitute at the clinic he had no idea what to expect. You were the last thing he thought would happen, and the second he read your name on that piece of paper as he entered your room he felt his mind begin to spiral.
How was he supposed to remain professional around you?
His biggest regret was never pursuing anything further with you years ago, worried that if feelings got involved he would lose the best thing he ever had. In turn, he fucked himself over in the end, because he had lost you either way; but now, you were right here in front of him, naked and on display.
The second he saw you sitting on the exam table he felt an immediate rush to his pants, his mind racing as he began to sweat, the room suddenly feeling stuffy and tight. He couldn’t help but watch your lips as they parted when you talked, memories of them wrapped around himself as your tongue slid up and down his length leaving him unable to concentrate as he attempted to read your file.
He watched as you shifted nervously in front of him when he checked your lungs, heart racing rapidly under his touch. He wanted to rip your thighs apart, slipping his fingers into you, wanting to leave you begging.
Noah wanted to pull his name from your lips; leaving you worshiping him, needing him.
He kept reminding himself that he was a professional now and that it was unacceptable to push the boundary of client-patient professionalism. There was a code of conduct and ethics he was required to follow; but he wanted to forget years of practice, just to get a taste of you.
You lay there, trying to keep your heavy breathing quiet; but you immediately gasped as one of his covered fingers spread you open, barely touching your skin, afraid to go further.
You closed your mouth tightly, biting the inside of your cheek as you scolded yourself.
Don’t fucking moan, don’t fucking moan. He barely touched you.
“I’m going to insert the speculum now,” He said quietly, and you heard him whisper another sentence to himself, “God, you don’t even need lube…”
You knew that he knew how turned on you were by just his presence alone, and you closed your eyes as Dr. Davis inserted the plastic into your body, the feeling of fullness causing you to chew on your bottom lip.
Dr. Davis clicked the hinges as the speculum opened you up, and you covered your mouth with your hand, something Noah had noticed.
“Are you in pain?” He asked gently, and you shook your head.
“N-no, I-I’m okay.”
He hummed again, and it was quiet for a moment.
There was a lack of movement for a second until you felt a gloved finger brush across your clit slowly, and you furrowed your brows in anticipation.
Fuck, that had to be an accident, right?
You tried to think rationally about the situation, but your thoughts trailed to dirty places, silently pleading that Dr. Davis would press against your intimacy again.
Noah had listened for your reaction as he sat before your legs that held you splayed open for him, his mind battling. He swallowed hungrily.
You felt his fingers brush against you again and your thighs jolted to his touch, before you felt the pad of his finger press firmly against you, tracing small circles as he tried drawing a moan from your lips.
Your mouth fell open in satisfaction as your body clenched, Dr. Davis’ fingers rubbing faster and faster.
You couldn’t help it as a gentle whimper crawled from your chest, and with furrowed brows, you bucked your hips into his touch; giving him the permission he desperately wanted.
You felt the speculum being removed, and seconds later a wet swipe trailed up along your folds.
“Oh my god,” You whispered and Dr. Davis hummed, his lips latching onto your sweet spot before two gloved fingers slid into you, curling upwards.
You began to moan again, pulling the blanket away to see the brunette devouring your body. He looked up at you with lustful eyes, his mask pulled underneath his chin.
You ogled upon seeing his entire face, brows furrowed with desire as he remained stone cold.
“If you moan loudly one more time I’ll stop.” He said as he began licking your body once again, eyes fixated on your own.
“Y-yes.”
“Yes, what?” He said, pulling his mouth away as he continued to pump his fingers in and out rapidly, taking his thin glasses off and placing them on the table.
“Yes sir.”
“Good girl,” he praised, burying himself between your legs again in famish, devouring you feverishly with complete craving.
Your legs began to shake from his praise and you covered your mouth with your hands as your hips pushed into Dr. Davis’ touch, completely engulfed with euphoria.
You didn’t know that he was palming himself through his slacks as he ate you out, desperate for friction, desperate for you to be the one touching him instead.
“Cum.” He demanded, and in a second his tongue swiped along your folds you felt the knot that he built release, elation washing through you as you choked back a desiring cry.
Your free hand gripped Dr. Davis’ hair as you pulled him closer, rubbing yourself along his face as he ate you until it became too much, pushing him away.
He stood up, mouth agape and wet from your release as you watched him with yearning, both your chests heaving.
He hastily began pulling off his white coat, throwing it to the floor as you watched him loosen his tie. Sitting up you beckoned him over and his fingers gripped your throat, pulling you towards him as his forehead rested against your own.
You looked into each other’s eyes as unspoken words danced between you, both of you needing each other but too afraid to speak.
He held you firmly for a moment before pulling your lips to his own, kissing you completely with need and hunger, forcing you to taste yourself
You groaned quietly into his lips as your tongues ran along each other, your fingers shaky as you began unbuttoning his blue dress shirt.
His fingers tightened around your neck as your hands trailed to the hem of his black pants, tugging at his waistband as you pulled apart his belt, sliding the zipper down slowly.
He moaned softly as your fingers slid along his abdomen, threatening to dip in to grab where he needed you.
“You’re in no position to tease princess, remember that,” He squeezed your neck again as he towered over you in authority, and you smiled.
“This is wrong.”
“So wrong.” He mumbled before kissing you in desperation again, your minds fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.
Dr. Davis’ hands pulled your shirt over your head as he pulled back, taking in the image of your exposed body, ready for him.
His covered fingers found their way to your core once again, slipping in and out as you pulled down his underwear, his body hard and ready to devour you.
You licked your fingers, smiling up at him as he watched with lustful eyes, before grabbing hold of his erection, pumping up and down as he thrust into your hand in eagerness. He pulled his fingers in and out of you quickly, your mouth falling open as you watched each other, pleasing one another.
“Spread your legs, baby,” Dr. Davis pleaded, and you opened your thighs farther.
“That’s it… Wider,” He whispered, before pulling his hands away from you, wrapping them around himself as he positioned his body to yours.
Dr. Davis didn’t hesitate any longer before he pushed into you, a loud whimper leaving you. His eyebrows furrowed angrily as his gloved hand covered your mouth, pushing you back into the wall.
“Be fucking quiet,” He said through gritted teeth, his chest heaving as he continued to thrust into you, filling your body, claiming you as his own.
He tore into your skin with his motions, the feeling of him pulling out before pushing back in deeply causing your legs to clench shut. He pushed them open with the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth.
“I said to spread them,” He scolded, fingers digging into your thigh before he slapped the top of your intimacy, earning a yelp from you as your body jolted from the contact.
He remained cold and composed, attempting to keep up his professional facade that was beginning to crumble before you. His eyes squeezed shut as he pushed your thighs back towards your chest, opening you as he fucked your body with possession.
You watched his head tilt back, exposing the tattoos on his neck as his lips fell open in complete satisfaction.
Your body felt perfectly wrapped around him, years of need ready to release into you.
Dr. Davis wanted to flip you over so you stood in front of him, one leg lifted onto the bed as he gripped your ass and pounded you; but he knew that right now, he needed to watch your face contort in pleasure for him, from him.
Your body clenched around him, “Dr. D-Davis,” You whimpered, still trying to remain quiet so as to not be heard by the rest of the clinic.
“Noah,” the brunette growled, bringing you into a kiss and you nodded, murmuring his name back to him against his lips in a plea.
He was close to his release, but he held back, waiting to pull another orgasm from you before he would bring you to your knees, ready to cum down your throat.
“You can do it, that’s a good girl.” He praised and you melted at his words, letting go as he thrust into you one more time, your body completely enveloping him as your mouth was covered by his hand once again to mask your screams. Your body shook through the orgasm Noah offered you.
He slid in and out slowly, before pulling away. His fingers were threaded through your hair as he guided you to the floor, placing you on your knees.
You took him into your mouth mercilessly, sucking and bobbing along his length before he gripped your face, pulling you closer.
You gagged along him, tears forming as a deep growl rumbled from his chest, signalling he was close.
Seconds later Noah’s release coated the back of your throat, and you swallowed his orgasm, looking up at him in commitment.
“You’ve always been mine to ruin,” He said, panting as he pulled you off of him, and you sat on the ground, smiling up at him.
The two of you got dressed in silence, the hormones lingering in the air as he pulled off the gloves, grabbing his prescription notepad and a pen.
“I wasn’t able to get a good enough sample to send off to the lab,” He said, scribbling away, “I’ll need you to meet me at my office this weekend.”
Dr. Davis handed you the note and you looked at the paper, staring at the phone number and address as he nodded toward you, opening the wooden door and leaving the office.
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hshshgsghshghsshgh ok i am a mess
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