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#Reddish Afternoon
moonami · 2 months
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Meep meep
I know Yao should be the one with the most trained body bc of his martial artist background, but the idea that he's insanely strong yet doesn't have big muscles to show off is funny.
Alfred is still obsessed with his weight yet won't stop eating fast food, so he tries to compensate it by going to the gym...To build muscles to show off only, he doesn't need to train actual strength? He's already superhuman thank u.
And Ivan...He stores fat for the winter, it does a funny jiggle jiggle(don't u dare to point out his tummy's jiggle physics or it is Joever)
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reddishafternoon · 2 months
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Tempting offer....Would take it no questions asked
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ourautumn86 · 6 months
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you love it when i play with you
ellie williams x fem! reader
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summary; you play with your gf, who needs you. a couple of texts would have her on your bed, and you, a mess.
cw; +18 content! minors dni!, sexting, teasing, strap on usage (r receiving), strap sucking, throat fucking, mentions of smoking (ellie’s high), choking, hair pulling, so much tension, dirty talking, reader being a tease, ellie showing her her place, tit and nipple play, multiple positions (one of them being riding), multiple orgasms, begging, praise kink, praising, no use of y/n…
a/n; i reached the 10 picture maximum so sorry for the messages change :(🎀
it was a calm saturday afternoon, rain pouring down in mid october as you sat on your bed, a book in between your hands as you read, listening to the soft music blasting through your speakers.
though your attention quickly drifted at the sound of a new notification coming from your phone. it was a message. from your girlfriend.
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you smiled, leaving your book aside to take your phone in between your hands and unlock it to read it.
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you bit down on your lip, your eyebrows rising at the message. you quickly typed an answer.
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you patiently waited as you saw the bubble of writing appear, the phone in between your hands buzzing with the entry of a new message.
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you felt your belly warm up, your pussy throb. even more when she attached a image to this messages.
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you flushed, thighs pushing together. you knew what she was doing. and you knew how to play this game.
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you smirked. ellie’s reddish eyes were feeling heavier at the sight of your beautiful tits. you were wearing her favorite camisole.
she sighed, lips wetting her lips. she wanted them on her mouth.
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ellie groaned, her hand cupping her clothed cunt, which was tingling and throbbing, starting to soak up her boxers.
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ellie swore her heart must have stopped. her hand pushing inside her boxers, fingers diving in between her slick folds, sighing at the feeling. she was indeed so wet.
you noticed the message had been read but she wasn’t answering, so you decided to push on her buttons just a little bit more.
are you wet, ellie?
ellie bit down on her lip, her fingers drawing soft circles on her clit.
you know i am, baby
now, why don’t you let me see you, hm?
you blushed, biting down on your lip before pulling down on your camisole to free your breasts and snap a picture, your hardened pretty nipples showing for your girlfriend.
new photo attached
ellie was getting dressed as soon as she opened it, getting ready as quickly as possible to pull up her legs her jeans and put on her old dirty black converse. she squirmed at the feeling of the wet patch in between her thighs as she walked towards the door.
omw
she typed with one hand as she grabbed the keys of her car.
you shook your head, slightly giggling as you got up from your bed, going towards your vanity to put on some lipgloss and perfume. you looked at yourself on the reflection and smiled. ellie didn’t live very far, so by the time you were done she was pulling at your door, using the key you had gifted her to get inside, running upstairs to your room, where you awaited her on your knees, sitting in the bed.
she groaned when she saw you, feeling dizzy. “you look like a fucking angel.” your doe pretty eyes looked up at her as she approached you, breathing heavy and pupils dilated. you could tell she had been smoking, maybe that’s why she’d gotten so horny. ellie always got horny while high. her cold hand took a grip of your chin, leaning down, her lips brushing your shiny ones. the same lips that had kissed every single crevice of your body. “i wanna ruin you.” you smiled against her lips, that angelical smile that couldn’t deceive her anymore.
“yeah?” you inquired her, and she chuckled, the hand on your chin coming down onto your neck, squeezing. she loved it when you’d taunt her. it only made her hungrier. you left a soft breath against her mouth, a silent moan at the feeling of her hand slightly cutting off your blood flow, making you feel dizzy. the tension could be cut with a knife. it only made you wetter.
“you have a lot to say today, don’t you?” she inquired. “teasing me through texts…, teasing me with a hand around your neck... you make it seem as if i couldn’t fuck the attitude right outta you, baby. is that what you want? want me to fuck some sense into that pretty little head of yours, hm? want me to help you remember your place?” she squeezed tighter, and this time, you whimpered. “i think you do.” she muttered, right against your ear, shivers running down your spine and goosebumps rising on your skin. her lips slightly traced your cheek, all the way back to your lips. “now say please.”
“please.” you breathed out, feeling your cunt throb under her green eyes.
“good girl.” she smirked, pulling away from you, making you whimper. she hushed you. “shh, it’s okay baby. i’m just gonna give that pretty little mouth of yours something to be busy with.” your eyes fell to her hands, which were unzipping her jeans. you hadn’t noticed the bulge underneath the denim, underneath her boxers. your mouth watered. you watched as she got rid of her clothes, leaving herself on just her white wife-beater, perky nipples showing and poking through. her strap was laying low on her hips, 7 inches of silicone, detailed with veins. you were drooling. she noticed. “open.” she ordered, the tip against your lips, and you followed, parting them not before leaving a kitten lick to the tip, making her grunt. “fucking tease.” you smirked, although you were gagging soon enough for it to disappear. “just needed to get that smirk fucked out of your face, hm?” one of her hands laced on your hair, and you moaned around the strap, taking it as deep as you could. “that’s it. take that cock.” she sighed, watching as your pretty eyes looked up at her, springing with tears, your lips around her dick as you bobbed your head. she swore she could feel it. “let me see your boobs, baby.” she said, and you pulled down your camisole, letting your tits show. she groaned. “that’s it. go ahead and touch them for me. give me a show, doll.” your hands cupped them, fingers pinching your nipples for them to swell. you moaned, and ellie’s hips thrusted in your mouth, making you gag. you tried to breath through your nose, closing your eyes as you relaxed your throat for her to fuck. “that’s it baby, open up for me.” she then slowly started to go deeper, until your lips were hitting the base of the strap and drool was trailing down your chin and neck. “look at you. so fucking messy… atta girl. deep and sloppy. just how i like it.” you whimpered, her thrusts getting harsher. you were sure your voice would be fucked up tomorrow morning. “fuck.” you gasped for air when she pulled back, cock plopping out of your lips, spit connecting you to the silicone. her thumb caressed your bottom lip, pulling from it to push inside your mouth. you suckled on it, your tongue playing with it. she bit down on her own, and before you knew it she was on top of you, and her tongue was inside your mouth. you moaned, thighs spreading open for her to get in between them, your hands on her hair. tugging and making her groan. “i’m so fucking horny right now, you have no idea. you drive me fucking crazy.” your back arched as her hands cupped your breasts. “best fucking tits ever. can’t wait to see them bouncing as you ride my dick, baby. you’re gonna look so pretty dicked down, all full of me.” you whined, her lips on your nipples, sucking and kissing, and bruising your skin.
“ellie…” you moaned her name.
“get this off.” she groaned, pulling from your camisole up your body, throwing it aside to find you completely bare underneath her. “fuck, baby.” her eyes fell to your soaked cunt.
“they’d just get on the way.” you muttered, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. your hair was a mess, and your eyes were glazed over. you looked like a fucking wet dream.
“so fucking needy…” you screamed when her fingers dived in between your slick folds, fingertips soaking wet. “look at her, she’s so ready for me…” she smirked, circling your clit before pushing one of her fingers inside, letting out lewd squelches every time she’d push it in and out of your cunt. “you hear that? she’s begging for it.”
“fuck.” you moaned as she added her ring finger, curling them to hit your g spot.
“right there, huh?“
“ellie please, need your cock…”
“be patient baby, gotta open you up on my fingers first, don’t want it to hurt.”
“i do. i want it to hurt.” you whispered against her lips, and something crossed through her eyes.
“yeah? want it to hurt baby? want me to split you open with my cock?” you nodded, your back arching as she fucked you with her fingers harder, deeper. “of course you do. you want nothing more than to be a little fuck doll, don’t you? wanna go dumb on my dick. want me to fuck you stupid, hm?”
“yes please ellie, please…” she groaned, pulling her fingers out of you to grab the strap and dip it’s tip in between your folds. it was already lubed up with your spit. you shivered, whimpering as your hips pushed against it, needing more.
“what a good girl. asking for it so nicely. i might as well just give it to you, huh?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when she suddenly trusted inside, stretching you out ‘till you felt her in your gut. you were breathless… it hurt, but it hurt so good. “thaat’s it. nice and deep.” she swore she could feel it, the way you were clenching around the silicone as she slowly pulled back, watching your lips engulfing the strap. “fuck baby, so tight…” it was as if you didn’t want to let her go, swallowing her inside. “you’re gonna milk my cock dry.” you moaned when she pushed back inside, the tip hitting your g spot.
your legs surrounded her waist, nails digging on her back, pulling at her shirt to completely undress her. you two were now a tangled naked mess, hips thrusting against the other, moans and grunts filling the room. you two were needy for each other, desperate. she was fucking into you faster now, lips on your neck, on your chest, hands playing with your nipples, fondling your breasts. you were a disaster of moans and ‘more, ellie more’s.
“so good, oh fuck baby. so good for me.” she groaned, the back of the strap rubbing her clit in just the perfect way. “my pretty girl just needed me to fuck her dumh, huh? i can do that. gonna make this pussy feel so good it’ll cry for me.” you whimpered, feeling your orgasm approaching with each harsh thrust, they reached and hit your g spot perfectly. she always fucked you so good.
“ellie, fuck, just like that, shit!” you were a babbling mess, tripping over your words as your back arched.
the room was filling up with the lewd sounds your pussy made fitting her cock inside you. you were so wet it was pooling and making a mess of your sheets.
“just take it baby. be a good girl and take my cock.” she grunted.
“i’m cumming. i’m gonna cum!” you cried out, and her fingers moved to rub on your clit fast and harsh circles to push you closer to your release.
“that’s it. cum for me.” you screamed as it hit you, ellie desperately fucking you to extend it. your moans being cut off by each harsh thrust. “fuck yeah. scream for me doll.”
“ellie!” your back arched, your thighs shaking.
“atta girl. cream my cock baby. give it to me.”
once you came down from it, she was kissing your neck, sucking bruises that you’d proudly wear tomorrow. you moaned, hands on her hair as she slowly stopped her thrusts, groaning. oh fuck she had been so close… her clit was throbbing.
you tugged from her hair when you felt her rock against you, the tip of the strap kissing your g spot, making you whimper.
“give me one more.” she begged. “just one more, baby.” you moaned, nodding, and before you knew it she was back at fucking you.
but you wanted to please her. “let me…” you breathed out, and soon enough ellie was on her back, you straddling her with her cock deep inside your cunt. she watched as you begun to rock her hips, the back of the strap bumping against her clit, easily sliding in between her beyond soaked folds.
“oh fuck.” she moaned, her hands finding your ass to guide your movements. “just like that. fuck me. fuck my cock.” you whined, hands on her abdomen to brace yourself.
“so deep… you’re so deep.” you whimpered. her eyes were on your tits, how they bounced with every roll of your hips, with every jump. she groaned. you looked like a fucking angel, and she was so close… you could feel it too, the high of another orgasm approaching, still sensitive due to your first one.
“pussy so good… she’s swallowing me right up, huh? she loves it. loves my cock.” she babbled, far too gone to think straight.
“ellie, i’m gonna cum…” you moaned, and her hands came up to your breasts, pinching your nipples. your clit was rubbing against the base of her strap.
“yeah? gonna cum again, doll? gonna give me another one?” you nodded. “of course you are, such a good girl for me. come on honey. let me see you fall apart.” it didn’t take long before you were screaming, creaming all over her cock. your cum was in a white ring on its base. at the sight ellie couldn’t help but follow, moaning and whimpering as she came, guiding your hips once again to fuck the two of you through it. “fuckfuckfuck…”
after that ellie had you suck clean her cock.
and maybe her pussy too.
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nobrashfestivity · 3 months
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Ethel Spowers Wet Afternoon (Coppel ES 14) Linocut printed in grey, reddish brown, emerald green and cobalt blue, 1929-30, on tissue thin oriental laid paper, signed, titled, dated '1930' and numbered 38/50 in pencil, framed
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
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Cave boy Danny AU where he's half asleep and rambling as he mentions some people back home like his exes (especially Valerie), his English teacher, this stalker of his who he likes messing with, and the annoying fruitloop who's the bane of his existence! They're concerned. Only once he's fully awake when they ask for names.
Lancer is Alfred, Talia is Val, maybe Paulina is Julie Madison but idk, Wes is Edward/The riddler (I'm pretty sure there was a time he had a reddish orange hair. Either way, he was the same model as Danny so maybe Wes dyed his hair to not be confused with the Fentons in this AU), and Vlad is Ra's!
Hello! This actually falls out of my planned plotline for Cave Boy, but I will write something for you that is close to the prompt to make up for it! Hope that's okay and that you like it
Flash sends them a message sometime in the early afternoon before any of the Bats are ready to go out. In fact, Damian, Duke, Steph, and Jason are in class when his message arrives.
Bruce, Dick, Tim, Cass, and Barbara are at work. As the Flash is one of the few who knows what the Batfamily is doing during these hours, it is rare for him to bother at this hour. He would have usually waited until after five as that was when a majority of them became available.
They all quickly check their phones when they vibrate to ensure it's not a world-ending threat, just in case.
Since the messages would be sent to their civilian phones- anyone in the know of the Bat's real identity chooses to text in a very specific code. This way, no one would know what they were saying, and the Bats would realize they were speaking to who they thought they were.
Barry Allen chose Disney theme GIFs as his code.
A gif of Mulan singing Reflections lets them all know that somehow, the speedster has again opened a portal into a different dimension and/or mess with time.
"Why is my reflection someone I don't know?" meant "A double of one of you has crossed over from a different dimension and/or timeline"
This causes a brief ripple of anxiety. The last time someone had a double, it was Tim, and his future version of himself was crazy, evil, and surprisingly capable. It took Tim almost ending his life to beat the guy.
Thankfully, the second GIF comes through seconds later. This one is Mulan's Honor To Us All.
"Please bring honor to us all" meant "The double is friendly."
The last Gif was from Lion King, Timon cheerfully singing Hakuna Matata. "It means no worries for the rest of your days" meant "Sorry for the trouble."
Those in class return to their various lessons, but Tim quickly responds, "I love that movie! We should watch Mulan again the next time I see you, Uncle Barry!"
This means, "We will meet the double tonight."
The rest of the day drags on as they all slowly start to make bets on who the double would be for. They all agree that Cass is long overdue to face herself again. Still, Dick makes the complying argument that Duke needed to have his first "My counterpart from another dimensional/ Timal plane" moment.
They all actively hope Duke can clear another block on his Bat-bingo card. He gets two more and a complimentary tray of any of his favorite Alfred's desserts.
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That night, they all meet up in the watch tower, each clutching their bingo card just in case. (The game resets every month, and so far, Jason has written down the most accurate predictions. He needed two more squares for a cooking lesson of his favorite meal, and he was out for blood)
They all silently go to the conference room, where Barry entertains the guests. Apparently, they were trying to find discrepancies in their world's history and the double's life to help find which world they came from and send them back.
They were being shown the main rouges to test the timeframe.
"Is that Wes!?" A young male teenager yells. Sadly, Steph swears, staring at her "A new Batgirl from a different world" box.
"We call him Edward when he's not in his costume. Otherwise, his name is the Riddler." Barry answers, amusement clear in his voice.
"Riddler? How is Riddler menacing? What does he tell you, riddles of death or something?"
"You be surprised......."
Bruce gets to the door, pushing it open with a quick flick of the wrist, and inside is Barry sitting at the conference table next to a boy with dark hair and blue eyes. In front of them is a hologram showcasing the Gotham Rouge files.
There are papers and pencils scattered on the table. Likely, they have been writing down notes of the differences they have spotted.
Barry's eyes flicker to them, but the boy is too distracted to count on his fingers.
"Okay, so Wes is Riddler, Val is Talia, Fruitloop is Ra's, Sckuller is Bane, and ugh....for some reason, Spectra is Harley Quinn." The boy finishes checking his notes.
"For some reason? I thought you said Spectra studied psychology too."
"yeah, but Harley Quinn actually got a Ph.D. What did Spectra do? Land a school counselor position? Please." The boy rolls his eyes dismissively, and Barry frowns.
He's never taken kindly to people disregarding another person's profession, especially if it was connected to the educational system in some way.
"Hey now, that's an important job, and you need years of study before you can be a school counselor-"
"I bet Spectra peaked in high school. That's why she's like that." The boy cut him off, nodding as though he had found the universe's answer.
Well.....this was either a version of Jason, Tim, or maybe early Dick, that was a little too sassy but not angry? It's not sad either; it's more like, fed up? Or teenage tired.
"Oh, who are they?" The boy asks, and Barry zips right next to Batman.
"Danny, meet Batman...the you of this world. And his kids."
Danny squints. "Who is your mom, and how easy am I? Because there is a lot of you that I fathered for me to not be easy."
Jason burst out laughing, checking a box. "Yes, someone calling Bruce easy in costume. That's on bingo for me!"
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oizysian · 5 months
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Now That I’m With You | Wanda Maximoff
Pairing: Serial Killer!Wanda Maximoff x Innocent Fem!Reader Warnings: murder, mind control Word Count: 3.5k Genre: smutty, but not too smutty Summary: Y/N moves to Westview and makes some new friends that her neighbor, Wanda, isn’t too happy about.
• Kinktober Masterlist •
I keep having the same dream about the woman a few houses down from me; she’s calling me, beckoning me with a power I can’t explain. I’m drawn to her and I can’t resist her when she calls to me - calls my name so sweetly, so lovingly. Why did I keep having this dream about a woman I barely knew?
Wanda Maximoff was a sweet lady - one of the first people on the block to introduce themselves when I moved into town. She brought over a homemade chocolate cake and introduced herself the same afternoon I moved in.
She had a beautiful smile and the most gorgeous emerald eyes I had ever seen in my life. I couldn’t help but stare when I first saw her, completely enamored by her. She welcomed me to the neighborhood and I knew instantly that as long as she stayed here, I would never leave.
On that same day another woman came to my house to welcome me, bringing over a homemade pie, which I liked a lot less than the cake Wanda had made. Her name was Dolly and she was about my age, maybe a bit older, with a husband and a son. She was very hands on and clearly didn’t believe in personal space, but she was nice.
Dolly came over to my place a few times, friendly visits, just to see how I was settling in and to get to know me. I understood that as I was new to the neighborhood and everyone else already knew each other, so they didn’t want anyone to stay a stranger.
That was two months ago. Dolly was found dead a few days ago, brutally murdered in her living room. They have no idea who would do such a thing to a lady like her. The whole block is on edge now, everyone making sure their doors are locked and their blinds are pulled down.
Except Wanda.
She came over and offered to make me dinner, despite the police all over the place, questioning everyone.
“You have nothing to worry about, you didn’t do it.” She said confidently. “What would you like? Meatloaf? How about a nice pot roast?”
I couldn’t imagine eating at that moment but when I looked at her something switched up in my mind, and suddenly my stomach was growling.
“Pot roast sounds really nice, Miss Maximoff.”
“Please! It’s Wanda! Come on over at around five, okay?”
She smiled and walked away as if there wasn’t yellow tape all over the street and covering the house across the way.
I watched her as she left, the sway of her hips hypnotizing and I couldn’t help but stare at her departing form. Her reddish brown locks bounced as she walked, her steps were delicate and precise. She was perfect.
The honking of a passing car pulled me from my stupor and I turned my attention to the man across the street, Dolly’s husband, speaking to police again.
“A murder in Westview? It’s unheard of!”
A pair of women gossiping were overheard saying as they scurried down the street to their respective houses. They would lock their doors and sleep with one eye open tonight.
But I wouldn’t. I wasn’t afraid. Something inside me told me I was safe, that I would always be safe in Westview, and that I had nothing to worry about anymore.
I realized I’d been standing in my doorway for far too long and decided it was time to go inside and stop looking like a nosey neighbor. It was bad enough that there was a rumor going around that Dolly wasn’t her real name and that she was murdered because she was a secret agent of some kind. How ridiculous people could be when something happens in a small town.
Thoughts of Wanda flooded my mind as I closed my front door behind me. Why did I think of this woman so often? I sighed and rested my forehead against the door. I had to get myself together. Not everything in my life revolved around Wanda.
I tried to push the thoughts of her out of my head, but the harder I tried to think of something or someone else, the stronger the images of her flooded in.
A knock on the door brought me out of my thoughts. It was still early in the afternoon so it could’ve been anyone, but most people were just hiding in their houses instead of being social.
I took a deep breath and opened the door to see another one of my neighbors standing there, a smile on her face.
“Hi, Y/N,” Erica greeted me. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, me? I’m-I’m fine. I’m great!” I smiled at her and she looked at me expectantly.
“Can I … come in?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure!” I moved aside for her to enter and she smiled, walking into my house.
“I wanted to come over and invite you over for dinner tonight.”
“Oh,” I turned from the door to face her. “I’m sorry, Erica. I’m going to Miss Maximoff’s house tonight.”
“Miss Maximoff? Oh, you mean Wanda?” She laughed, placing her hand on my bicep. “You’re so polite, it’s cute!”
I smiled nervously back at her, unsure of what to do.
“Well, what about tomorrow night?”
“Um, I’m not sure, I -”
“I can make you a better dinner than Wanda could. Come on. Give me a chance.”
I looked at her smiling face and tried to smile back, the thoughts of Wanda swimming in my head again as I stared at her. I pushed the thought of her out of my mind and nodded at Erica.
“Okay. Dinner tomorrow.”
“Great! Tomorrow, say six-ish?”
I nodded and opened the door for her. She smiled brightly, she kissed me on the cheek before leaving. I watched her leave, shocked that she had kissed me, even if it was just a kiss on the cheek.
She walked down the street, a purposeful sway in her hips, and I stared at her, my mind swimming once again with the image of Wanda walking away from me earlier. Erica definitely didn’t have the same sex appeal that Wanda had, and she certainly didn’t have the same sensual sway. Damn it, why couldn’t I stop thinking about Wanda?
Shaking myself from my thoughts, I closed the door and sighed. I didn’t have to be at Wanda’s for a few hours, so I had time to shower and get ready. I wanted to look my best for her, so naturally I’d wear something nice and wear my best perfume.
I headed into my bedroom to pick out my nicest outfit from my closet and get prepared for my shower. I stood and stared at my clothing before a little voice in my head told me she’d definitely like my little black skirt and a cute pink tank top. Whose voice was that? It wasn’t mine …
Deciding that arguing with the voices in my head was a little unhinged, I grabbed my clothing and headed into the bathroom, getting my towels and washcloths in preparation for my shower. A nice, hot shower would do wonders for my nerves.
I undressed and adjusted the water, stepping under the hot spray and getting myself wet. Why was I worried about what Wanda thought of my outfit? It was just dinner. Not a date. She was married to that Vision guy anyway. What kind of name was Vision anyway?
After scrubbing myself clean, I got out and dried off, realizing quickly that I had been in the shower for much longer than I had intended, and now I had to get dressed and go. How did time move so quickly.
I rushed to dress, sniffing all of my different perfumes and colognes before finally choosing one that was a little on the sweet side. She’ll love it.
I made my way through the rooms of my house, grabbing all of the things I would need for the evening; my keys, my shoes - got it all.
I put my shoes on and grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder as I left the house, locking the door behind me and making my way down the block.
It was a cool evening and it made for a pleasant walk. Wanda lived only a few houses down from me, so I didn’t have far to walk late at night. I rarely wore skirts, so I was slightly uncomfortable as I made my way up her walkway. What made me wear such a skimpy outfit anyway?
Before I could process the regret, I made it to her front door, ringing the bell as I flattened down my skirt. Why did I wear this?!
The door swung open not seconds after I rang the bell, revealing Wanda looking absolutely gorgeous behind it.
Her hair was curled, falling down along her shoulders and she was wearing a red dress, which matched her red lipstick.
I licked my lips nervously and smiled, trying my hardest to look into her beautiful eyes instead of her inviting chest.
“You’re right on time, darling.” She said, her voice silky smooth.
She moved to the side and allowed me to enter. I looked around at her decor, noting the family picture of her, Vision, and her two boys. Where were they?
“Vision and our sons, Billy and Tommy, are out seeing a movie. It’s boys' night.” She sighed, but I saw little to no disappointment in her eyes.
How did she know what I was thinking?
“You look lovely.” She purred as she closed the door behind us, grabbing me gently by the arm and guiding me into the dining room. “And you smell divine.”
Okay, weird, but -
“Thank you,” I couldn’t help but blush ever so slightly. “You look great too. Gorgeous, even.”
“You’re such a charmer, Y/N.” She smiled, leading me to a chair and allowing me to sit. “I’ll be right back with dinner. You just relax.”
I would not be relaxing. I took a deep breath as she left the room, inhaling her vanilla perfume and letting it get to my head, almost making me dizzy. She really smelled nice.
“Here we are,” she returned before I could even process that she was gone. “My world famous pot roast. I know you’ll love it.”
“I’m sure I will.” I smiled brightly, watching as she walked back into the kitchen to retrieve whatever she left behind.
It smelled absolutely delicious. My mouth was watering as I shifted in my seat, suddenly very restless.
The table was set beautifully, complete with candles and matching silverware and china. It was breathtaking and I was shocked she did all of this for me.
She returned with mashed potatoes and spinach, placing it down in front of me and brushing her hand along my arm. I looked up at her, noting that she was definitely staring at my chest. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn this shirt.
“I love your top.” She said as she sat down. “It’s a lovely shade of pink.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, bringing my attention to the table. “This is very beautiful. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“It was no trouble, sweetheart!” She began serving us, giving me a hearty helping of everything and I couldn’t help but almost start drooling at the sight.
“This looks amazing.” I said as I dug in as delicately as I could under the circumstances, as I was starving and it all smelled divine.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
We had a pleasant conversation over dinner. She offered me some wine, which I normally didn’t drink, but gratefully accepted, having one or two glasses before I felt my cheeks flush and I knew it was time to stop.
“Can I help you with the dishes? It’s the least I can do.”
I stood from the table and grabbed my dirty dish, and she shook her head, standing as well.
“You don’t have to.”
“Please, I’ll feel bad if you have to do them after cooking such a delicious meal.”
Her gaze softened and she picked up a few dishes off the table, leading me to the kitchen. I placed the dishes in the sink and started to wash, humming softly to myself as she continued to bring in what we left behind.
“You’re so cute.” She said as she slid up behind me, putting her wine glass in the sink.
I could feel her press herself up against me, her hands at my hips, sliding up and down my thighs. I felt her breasts against my back, my heart pounding fast as her hot breath hit the back of my neck.
“Absolutely adorable.”
She gripped at my hips and I gasped softly, nearly dropping the glass I was washing as she thrust herself up against me. I imagined that, right? She didn’t just -
Her pelvis hit my ass again and I let out a small whimper, grabbing onto the edge of the sink as she continued to hump my ass.
“W-Wanda …” I whispered and she shushed me, gasping softly into my ear as she pressed herself against me again.
“I want to thank you,” she breathed softly. “For being such a good girl.”
My head was foggy with the smell and feel of her. I couldn’t think about anything but her body pressed against my own. Suddenly, the thought of Vision and the boys entered my head and I shook myself out of my lust filled daze.
“I-I should really go.” I said as I turned off the water, her hips still thrusting into mine.
“Not yet, sweetheart.” She kissed my earlobe and I shivered. “I’m not done thanking you.”
I could feel her hands slipping up my skirt, her fingers pressing against my slit as she groped me through my panties.
“It’s late,” I tried to reason with her. “And I’m seeing Erica tomorrow so I really should go.”
“Erica?” She hissed into my ear, her hand cupping my covered sex. “Wouldn’t you rather be with me?”
“Y-yes,” I whimpered. “But, I made a promise.”
“Break it.” She pressed her lips to my neck and I used all my willpower to slide out from under her.
“This was lovely, Wanda, really.” I was aching painfully. “But I really need to go.”
She pouted, her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving - she looked so fuckable.
Before I lost control over myself again, I rushed to her front door, nearly running out as I made my way down the block. What the hell just happened?
I laid in bed, thinking about what happened at Wanda’s. She was married, with kids! Why would she do that? Did I imagine it? No, her hands were …
I bit my lip and slid my hand down inside my panties, my eager fingers circling my throbbing clit. The feel, the smell of Wanda still lingered, and I couldn’t help but touch myself at the thought of her.
I closed my eyes and it felt as if a mist washed over me, and all I could see inside my mind was Wanda doing the same, her hips rising slightly off the bed as she pleasured herself at the remembrance of touching me so intimately.
“W-Wanda …” I whimpered softly into the darkness, my hips bucking as I brought myself to the quickest orgasm of my life.
In my mind, she came saying my name, sweat built up on her furrowed brow, her hips still moving as she worked herself up once again.
I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes and stop watching her. Something compelled me to stay inside my mind which was completely filled with Wanda - her smell, her feel … her taste?
My imagination was clearly running wild as I could almost taste her, sweet and musky on my tongue. I moaned softly, my fingers slipping into my wetness as I thought of Wanda sitting on my face, letting me pleasure her the way only I was meant to.
In my mind, she came multiple times already, begging me to both stop and for more. I was addicted to her. I needed more, more, more.
I opened my eyes as I came and everything was dark red. It took a moment for my vision to focus before the darkness of the room came back into sight. I panted softly, slipping my hand out of my panties and standing shakily from the bed so I could go to the bathroom. I really needed to get a hold of myself. This couldn’t be healthy.
It was nearly dinner time as I made my way over to Erica’s. She lived farther away than Wanda, but her house was still within walking distance. I was feeling uneasy about going there. I really had wanted to be with Wanda again, but I knew I wouldn’t be strong enough to resist her if she made a move on me again. I wasn’t sure how I resisted her the first time. Something was constantly pulling me towards her, physically and mentally.
I knocked on Erica’s door, waiting patiently to be let in. No answer. That was weird considering she was expecting me. I rang the doorbell, thinking maybe she didn’t hear me knock.
A few moments passed and I decided to see if the door was unlocked. Maybe she was in trouble. I turned the knob and the door opened. I stepped in cautiously, looking around as I entered.
“Erica?” I called out, walking further into the house.
I made it to the kitchen where I found her, on the floor in a pool of her own blood. I was stunned. I had no idea what I should do. I looked around, finding a knife nearby on the ground and blood smeared everywhere.
I rushed over to the phone and dialed 911. After telling them everything and them ordering me to stay where I was and not touch anything, I quickly realized I was now a suspect.
I hung up the phone and stared at her body. There was so much blood and she was completely mauled. Her eyes were still open and she was lying face up.
The pot on the stove was bubbling over and the table was set. Before any other observations could be made, I heard the sirens, and soon I was completely surrounded by police.
They questioned me for hours, grilling me about why I had gone to Erica’s house in the first place and where I was when she was killed. I had no answers for them, unable to help and insisting upon my innocence.
Once they said that I could go, I went straight to Wanda’s, having no one else I could turn to. I rang her bell frantically, almost in hysterics once she opened the door.
“Y/N, honey, what’s the matter?” She asked as she ushered me in, leading me into the living room and onto one of her plush couches.
“E-Erica is dead.” I stammered, looking up into her concerned eyes.
“I know, darling, it’s going to be alright.”
I tried to control my breathing, inhaling and exhaling deeply, attempting to calm myself down. It was hitting me all at once and I couldn’t believe I had seen a dead body.
“You’re going to be okay, Y/N, alright? I’m here. You’re with me and I’m here.”
She took me into her arms and I melted in her embrace, my face pressed against her breasts. She smelled like home and suddenly nothing really mattered but her. Erica’s death was irrelevant now that I was in Wanda’s arms.
“That’s my good girl.” She cooed, stroking my hair. “I’m here.”
Before I lost all sense of self in her presence, her previous words struck me funny. She knew Erica was dead? How could she know?
“I know,” she said, answering me before I could even ask her. “Because I killed her.”
I pulled away from her, staring up into her deep, emerald eyes. She killed Erica? But why?
“Because she thought she could have you, when you belong to me.”
She was reading my thoughts. I squeezed my eyes tight, trying to regain control over my mind, when I felt her hands on my cheeks, caressing them gently.
“It was all for you, Y/N. I couldn’t let them come between us.”
“Them?”
“Dolly, Erica, and anyone else who stands in my way.”
“Dolly too?” I was stunned.
There was no way Wanda, the woman that I had been completely obsessed with, could be a murderer.
“Shh,” she cooed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Your mind is racing. Let me take care of you.”
Her eyes turned red and everything felt better. It was good that they were dead. They were trying to take me away from Westview. Away from Wanda.
“They were bad people. You’re safe now.”
I threw myself into her arms, letting her hold me close. But, wait …
“What about Vision?”
“About who?”
I looked at her, confused, then I noticed the photo on the table no longer featured a man, but me. All the photos in the house replaced Vision with me and then suddenly … who?
“I-I don’t know.” What was I even talking about?
“Are you feeling okay, honey? Maybe you need to lay down.”
“No, I-I feel fine now. I’m fine now that I’m with you, Wanda.”
@natashaswife4125, @poison-blackheart, @aemilia19, @claxre-bear, @dorabledewdroop
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piratesfromspace · 3 months
Text
Just Like Old Times PART 2 (Price x Reader + poly141)
Pairing: Reader x Price + Reader x 141 Rated: Explicit Word count: 4.3k Summary: Some flirting, hot springs, a cosy cottage in the snow, and lots of sex Note: This is the part 2 I promise with lots of smut, enjoy!
Content: ex-military!fem!reader, mention of food & alcohol, smoking, praise kink, heavy smut, fivesome, oral, PiV, light ass play, overstimulation, dom/sub vibes, aftercare, fluff
MASTERLIST // PART 1
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It doesn’t happen this very night, but the day after. 
The men are a little bit more rested after their long trek out in the open, and they are all very enthusiastic when you suggest a short hike to reach the hot springs hidden in a small valley just east of your cottage. It’s too remote from the touristy locations for random people to show up there, or for amateur hikers to stumble upon by accident. You’ll be alone and safe. And warm - most importantly. And it’s also a convenient opportunity to see them half naked. 
The hot springs are tucked against the side of a small glade, where the snow melts to reveal rocky arrangements forming shallow pools. Steam hovers above the clear water, signaling its warmth. The afternoon is sunny enough to make the snow gleam, painting a decor so pretty even the rugged men around you remark on it.
“Gosh lass, you didn’t lie when you told us about this place” Soap’s voice shakes you out of your contemplation. 
“Hope you don’t mind but I did not bring a bathing suit for our snow trip” Gaz is already stripping down, ready to dive into the steaming water. You take a beat too long to respond, mouth open at the vision of Gaz’s very naked and very ripped chest, muscles of his back rippling as he’s trying to remove his boots as quickly as he can. 
“Don’t you worry, she’s seen a lot worse back in the days”. It’s Price who comes to your rescue, a mischievous glint in his deep blue eyes fixed on your face. Warmth pricks at your cheeks - and it’s not because of the springs. It’s true though, you’ve seen quite a lot of men in all states of undress during your previous life. Missions after missions after training sessions after stays in the infirmary, you all tend to lose any sense of modesty. A body is a body after all. Just that. You repeat yourself as you undress as well - still, you intend on keeping the two-piece bathing suit you put on under your winter gear before leaving. You also try to keep your eyes down as the men strip and sink in one of the natural pools with satisfied grunts bordering on moans. Their sinful sounds don’t help with the warmth already creeping up your face. 
The steam covering the surface and the warping of the water does a good enough job at hiding the most intimate parts of their bodies. It’s not enough to hide how massive their bodies are though. You catch the glimpse of reddish or silvery scars on a muscular back or on a corded forearm. Dark hairs are dusted on the large pectorals of Price and Soap, while Gaz and Ghost are more smooth. 
Ghost has kept his usual facemask, even though he traded the skull mask for a printed balaclava, with a wider opening, framing doe-like brown eyes looking intently at you under blond lashes. He’s the biggest of them all - and it’s saying something considering Price and the two younger soldiers are far from small men - the level of the water had visibly raised when he lowered himself into the shallow pool. He beacons you with a nod of his head, and you finally muster enough courage to remove the last of your garment - except for your bathing suit - and join them in the water. They’re nice enough to not make any comment on your choice of covering yourself while they are shameless in their nudity.
The enveloping warmth of the spring is a blessing for your body, immediately soothing the goose bumps you got from the cold. You let yourself relax until the little waves are lapping at your nape, free of the hair you carefully tied up earlier. Your whole body goes slack as you take deep breaths, and close your eyes, sun rays lazily kissing the skin of your face. On your right, Price is doing the same, and when you readjust your posture, your arm brushes against his, and then your thigh touches his leg. You don’t move away though, you both stay like that for a moment, the joyful chatting of Soap and Gaz on the other side of the pool, a surprisingly relaxing background noise. The simple contact with his skin is warming you up from the inside, the memory of the kiss he gave you last night making you unconsciously squirm against him, clenching your thighs together. You’re feeling… hot. And the temperature of the water is not the only thing to blame. 
“Stop it, love.” the warning is uttered in a low gravelly voice, that does the exact contrary of what it was intended for. Liquid heat blooms between your legs as Price pairs his remark with a solid hand catching your right knee, immobilizing your whole leg. 
“Stop it, or I will be tempted to catch on all the time we missed.” It’s still a warning, but definitely not a threat, his voice goes gentler, almost sad at the last words. Fuck. That’s what did it a decade earlier, what made you cave in to your attraction for this man, the intoxicating mix of confidence - in his skills and authority - and vulnerability - emotions and kindness just bubbling under the surface. 
You can’t let this chance slip. Not again. Last night, you stopped at kissing, even though you wanted more, and you’ve been desperately horny since. You catch his hand on your knee, guiding it higher along your thigh, until it reaches the hem of your bathing suit. “What if I don’t mind it?” you whisper back, angling your body to better face him.
You can see the internal fight on Price’s face. 
“They will see” he mumbles, looking above your shoulders to the three men chatting just a few feets away. 
“I also don’t mind that…” you answer against the side of his head, pushing the words out before you chickens out  “... do you?”.
“I did not remember you to be such a menace” he chuckles darkly, before one arm snakes around your waist and lifts you up so you’re fully braced against his side. His other hand dips under the band of your bottom to cup your cunt. Your lips part around a gasp. His skin is somehow even hotter than the water. The hand on your back climbs until it clasps on your nape, bending your head in the crook of his neck, at a not-so-successful attempt at muffling your sounds. 
The captain waits for you to settle before he dips the pads of his fingers between your folds, grazing at your entrance where they meet the sirupy evidence of your desire. The tranquil water is not enough to wash away the sticky liquid, and Price takes advantage of it to glide effortlessly up your slit until he finds your aching clit. You stifle another gasp when he starts rubbing it in slow circles. 
“Quiet love” He squeezes your neck, trying to remind you of your surroundings - and especially of your audience. You don’t dare look behind you, but you can imagine how you look. For Price’s men, it must look like he has you in a tight hug, which is telling already. But if you start moaning on top of that, it’s not gonna look like a chaste hug for long. 
It’s difficult not to though, because the length of you is plastered against his formidable body, your tits pressed on his chest, he has you straddling one of his thighs, and you can feel his hard dick pulsing against your leg. Your teeth bite into your lower lip in an attempt at staying silent, and you would be scared to draw blood if you weren’t too far gone. Price’s fingers keep their pressure on your clit while he keeps you pinned to him with nowhere to go, and you know you’re not gonna last. Not when it feels so good to be in his arms, to feel his warm skin, and underneath it the strong muscles that keep you at his mercy. Not when he remembers exactly how to touch you to make you shiver in pleasure in mere seconds. Not when his most loyal men are probably looking at you from the other side of the pool. The idea that they might actually be, that they might understand what their Captain is doing to you, that they might even get hard at the view - you feel so dirty at admitting it, but it is what really makes you go over the edge. 
You come with a silent sob, biting into Price’s shoulder, until he redirects your mouth on his own. He kisses you with a hunger, a desperate thirst, like it pains him to want you this much. You answer with your own passion, careless in your display of affection for him. Low whistles and impressed Damn, captain erupt from the three other men. You part from Price with a chuckle, still not daring to look behind you. Until you feel someone gently tugging at your wrist. 
“Don’t keep her all to yourself Captain” Gaz beautiful eyes find yours, checking if you’re okay to follow him. You’re pretty sure he’s the only one to be able to snatch something from Price’s lap without too much trouble. John grumbles something that is lost in your soft laughs as Gaz brings you back with him near Soap and Ghost. 
“Now, tell us a story from your time with our Captain, I’m sure you have some funny ones!” he offers, and you comply, not minding the fact Gaz’s hand is still on your wrist, absentmindedly drawing circles in your skin with the tips of his calloused fingers.
❄️
You get back to the cottage just before sunset. The heater is still broken, but it’s a blessing in disguise, corelling you all into the living room, where the nice warmth of the fireplace makes for a mellow atmosphere. Soap has managed to find your stash of scotch, a vice you don’t indulge often in, but you still keep a few bottles at hand, to celebrate happy occasions or cushion hard news. You guess your reunion with Price is worth bringing those bottles out. 
The evening feels like one of those too-perfect fuzzy memories, made of laughter, comfort food and enough of the brown liquorous beverage to dull the last of your awkwardness around those newfound friends. Price has procured a cigar, spicy smoke weighing heavy on your senses. Someone has chosen a vinyl from your collection and turned on the old record player. Slow tempo music with suggestive lyrics. Gaz tugs you up from the ground, has you two sway along to the song - he moves his hips with a disconcerting easiness. You don’t really know what you’re doing, but he’s happy enough you follow him. You laugh in the dance, and he gets bolder, holding you closer with each new chorus. It drives you crazy.
Your earlier release at the hand of Price is long forgotten, and your whole body has been on fire since you came back from the hot springs. You can feel how embarrassingly wet you are, every little touch to move you out of the way in the kitchen, to lead you to your seat on the couch, every time they lay a finger on your waist, your arm, or even your face to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Everything they do to you makes you go crazy with want. Of course Price is the bolder of them all, large palms holding your hips while you step on a chair to reach something high in your kitchen, kisses stolen in the corridor, hungry eyes following your every move. 
He might be guilty of teasing you to death, but the three others are not that innocent either. And Price is letting them. He’s very clearly allowing them to flirt, watching with a small smile as they make you laugh, as they make you crave their attention. Yes, guilty, they are all guilty. And you’re their very willing victim.
Your glass is still in hand, your eyes are half closed. Ghost and Soap are sitting side by side on your couch, bodies relaxed, eyes on you and Gaz. Simon’s balaclava is bunched up on his nose, still hiding a part of his face, but allowing him to sip on his - yours actually - scotch. He’s watching you dance like you’re the prettiest girl in the club, although his hand is possessively holding Soap’s knee. You noticed they were close, but you did not expect this open display of affection. It means they trust you to some extent. It flatters your ego, makes you balance your hips more boldly.
As the song comes to an end, Gaz has you in a tight embrace with your back against his firm chest, his hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck, his lips so close from your nape, you wish he would kiss you there already. It’s not calculated, more instinct than wit, but you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side, baring your neck to his mouth. It must be instinct from his part also, because he immediately takes the bait and lays a gentle kiss on the side of your neck. You leave out a shaky exhale at the sensation and sink a little more against him. He leaves another kiss, a little lower, going down where your neck meets your shoulder. And another one. It’s not about instinct anymore, it’s deliberate, it’s a clear choice. The gentle warmth of the alcohol, the smoke of the cigar, the tiredness of the afternoon spent in the water - it all makes your body pliant and your mind happily dizzy.
“Let us thank you for the stay, lovie” Kyle murmurs against the shell of your ear, his hands solid on your hips, leaving no doubt as to how they intend to thank you. The shock of his demand forces you to use your brain for a second. You kinda knew this was coming - you wished it too. But it’s one thing to fantasize about it, and another to live up to it. Your eyes fly open to Price, searching for his opinion on this. Not hard to guess he already had his word to say in the situation, but still. 
“Don’t look at me. It’s up to you darling.” His voice is thick, thicker than usual. “You can say no. At any time.” he adds, words carefully chosen. The fire in his eyes when you nod your consent matches the fire between your legs.
Price rises from his chair while Kyle stays glued to your back, holding you upright, like an offering to his Captain. John stands in front of you, locks eyes with you and takes a long inhale on his cigar. His hand catches your chin, and he bends toward you until his mouth is a hair away from yours. You willingly part your lips to let him breathe out the smoke in your lungs. You can’t take it all, and the smoke spills out, engulfs your field of view, drowning you in the smell you have learned to recognize as his. Something rich and spicy, heavy and masculine, powerful and his, his, his- 
Price takes advantage of the way the smoke makes you even dizzier to kiss you on the lips. A hungry kiss, mirroring the one he gave you when he had you in his lap earlier in the springs. Before you close your eyes to focus on the way his tongue is licking inside your mouth, you vaguely register Ghost getting up and taking the cigar from his captain’s hand to let it drop in the ashtray. You feel his giant presence, can feel him nuzzling at the top of your head, smelling your hair, fingers ghosting over your shoulder and upper arm. It’s becoming overwhelming very quickly to be surrounded by them, and if not for Gaz holding you upright against him, you’re not sure you would still be standing up. 
Simon’s fingers find their way down your arm, until he gently takes your hand. His hold is feather-light, leaving you the opportunity to retreat. It’s a stark contrast with the raw strength you know he’s capable of. Price reluctantly stops kissing you, his large palms still holding your jaw from both sides angling your face towards his lieutenant. He wouldn't want for you to miss the show of Simon’s tongue peeking from his rosy lips to give a little lick at the pad of your fingers. Once, then twice. He groans, content with the taste of your skin. A predator confirming he caught the right prey. Without any warming he engulfs two of your fingers in his mouth, and sucks on the digits like he’s trying to get to the marrow of your bones. But instead of sharp teeths, all you get is the strange feeling of warmth and wetness, the powerful swipe of his tongue - he’s the one shoving your hand in his mouth, yet you have the intuition the big bad wolf is just a lost pet looking for a master. You press your fingers on his tongue, and down, until your flesh is flush against his teeth, and you keep pressing. He has no choice but lowering down too, unless he risks hurting you. 
The hands of Price and Gaz on your body tighten ever so slightly, when Simon finally puts his knees on the floor. With just two fingers between his lips, you have managed to make the giant kneel at your feet. He’s gazing at you with glassy eyes, the black make-up fading on his skin making his blond lashes pop. 
Simon nuzzles against your legs, and despite him being on his knees, his impulse for action is still there. He pushes his face against your crotch, his balaclava is bunching up on his nose and the bump of the fabric is providing some nice friction against your clothed cunt. Definitely not enough to quench your desire, but it’s welcome. It’s visibly an offense to Ghost that you’re still wearing clothes, so while Price is taking your attention with passionate kisses, he removes your pants and panties, until you can feel the air against your tender flesh. You’re already dripping, you can feel it against your inner thigh.
That’s when Soap, who is behind Ghost, a hand under his balaclava, fisted in his hair, pushes his face against your weeping cunt. Simon gives your folds a broad lick, and you let a heavy sigh out on Price’s lips. Ghost is lapping at you without any shame, his wicked tongue goes everywhere, no inch of the delicate skin between your legs is free from his attention. You have to grasp at Price’s shirt to steady you, because you’re squirming from the delicious wet warmth on your cunt. Gaz is still behind you, supporting you upright. His hands have found their way on your ass, he’s playing with the supple flesh, fingers inching between your cheeks. 
“Can I touch you here?” he whispers, his breath hot on the shell of your ear, and you nod your consent without second thought. He lets his broad hands wander fully between your ass cheeks, thumbs gently petting at your hole. Each sensation is not entirely new, but layered like this, happening all at the same time - it’s so much, intoxicating in the best sense. Ghost tongue in your cunt is making sinful noises, and you’re drowning in it all, body fully shivering between all of them. You feel a knot tighten in your gut with alarming speed, and you come for the first time of the night, moaning against Price’s neck. 
Price sweeps you off wobbly legs, and places you delicately on one of the mattresses. After this first orgasm, the warmth of the fire with the softness of the many blankets makes for a divine sensation. 
“All good love? Wanna keep going?” John asks, his blue eyes set on your face, looking for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.
“Yes!” you answer with a fervor that makes the men chuckle.
“Wanna taste you too, hen” it’s Soap - he lies between your legs, folds them on your chest, so he can look at your cunt like it’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, before starting to lick, drinking the juices from your previous orgasm. He’s eating you messily but with enthusiasm, spending some time fucking you with his toungue, his thumb pressing on your clit. Your soft moans soon fill the air. It makes him bolder, and he goes even lower, his tongue licking at your puckered hole, not searching to go in, but feasting on every patch of skin he can find between your thighs.
Ghost is kneeling again, this time next to your head. He bends at the waist to kiss your mouth, making you taste yourself on his lips. He’s disciplined in the way he kisses you. After Price’s hunger, it’s a clear contrast. He makes you submit to his rhythm and is not afraid to make you feel the scrape of his teeth on your already swollen lips. He’s precise, sharp, calculated. Unlike you, he can’t be easily overwhelmed, and if you can coax a reaction out of him, it’s only because he lets you. 
Soap has you come on his tongue, and you don’t even have the time to let your legs go down before Price hoists them on his shoulders. An undignified little yelp escapes your lips in confusion and surprise that John is quick to sooth. 
“Shhh love, I’m here, you’re ok.” his gravelly voice making you so insanely hot that it has you clench on nothing. You’re not empty for long though. He fills you up in one slow inescapable move. It burns, but in a good way, a searing warmth seizing your whole body. The stretch is a lot. It has you clamp up on him, in a vicious reaction circle. 
“Fuck, you’re… a… lot.” you whimper, eyes shut to try and focus on relaxing.
“Don’t fight it” you recognize Ghost’s voice. “You’re doing great, bonnie” Soap echoes. “Breathe, gorgeous” Gaz adds. 
You open your eyes to see the three men in various states of undress, lounging on the mattresses around you both. Their gaze is fixed on you both, eager for the show you’re offering.
“Look at me, love.” John falls on his forearms, folding you in two. He cradles your face in his big palms, demanding for your full attention - the blue of his eyes is so dark, yet they are shining, like you’re watching a night sky full of stars. 
“You’re perfect. Your body is perfect. I know you can take it.” He punctuates his affirmation with a delicious rolling thrust of his hips, that has your lips part around a soft moan. 
“So let me make you feel good”
You can’t remember a single time in your life when you felt this good. This level of passion, not only from one person, but from four men. They take turns and team up to make you feel good. There are too many fingers and tongues on your body for you to count - sucking at your tits, leaving bruising kisses on your neck, hitting the most sensitive places inside of you, rubbing at your swollen clit. They discover they love giving a spank or two to your ass to hear you cry out in surprise then laugh and groan when the gentle heat of the blow reaches your cunt. They tie your wrists with a scarf for a minute, so you won’t disturb them in the very important task of finding out which one of them can make you come the fastest.
You love what they do to you, but you also want to please - want them to feel a tenth of the pleasure they offer. You follow the trail of hair on Soap’s belly with your mouth until you reach the tip of his cock. You ride Price until the muscles of your thighs give out. You swallow every drop of Gaz’s cum. You let Ghost come on your chest. 
“you’re taking me so well” “look at you, so pretty” “there you go, just like that, perfect" "you’re so good for us" 
You bask in their encouragement, let your brain short-circuit with their heady dirty talk, let your body go floaty, your limbs grow sore, let your flesh bruise under ravenous lips, let your skin get covered in sweat and spit and cum and your own wetness. The night is not young anymore when you shatter one last time on Price’s cock. He gently lay down your legs from his shoulders where they were perched. You don’t have any strength left in you to protest when Simon sits between your open legs to lick you clean for a couple minutes, ignoring your soft whines of overstimulation. It’s Gaz who comforts you, letting you know how good you’ve been, that you need to let them clean you up. He gently pets your hair while Simon and Johnny return with a damp clean cloth and try their best at cleaning your skin, before cleaning themselves. 
They help you into a warm hoodie - it’s so oversized it obviously belongs to one of them. They feed you pieces of dried fruit, tilt a cup of water to your lips, cuddle with you in front of the fireplace. The crackling of the fire is the background to their gentle chats and laughs, and the occasional muffled moans when Ghost keeps his lips on Soap’s neck. The view is sinful - those two men, built like Greek gods, half-naked, kissing each other - it would be enough to re-ignite your desire if you weren’t feeling so sore. And yet there’s something more than lust between them, something tender you guess they don’t show often. 
You eventually drift to sleep against Price, his body solid and warm by your side. Just like old times, you think just before he gently kisses your forehead - and you fall asleep understanding that maybe love has no fixed timeline.
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year
Text
Title: Homebound.
Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (Genshin).
Word Count: 2.9k.
TW: Prolonged Imprisonment, Obsessive Behavior, Delusional Behavior, Mentions of Torture, There Is A Kid Involved But Childe Just Sorta Found It In The Woods, and Disturbing Themes.
[Part Two]
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He would be coming for you, soon.
The sky was still dark, the stars still as bright as they had been in the dead of night, but the moon was beginning to sink below the horizon, the lampposts that lined the street below your apartment beginning to fade as their oil stocks ran dry. You’d been at your window since sunset, too anxious to do anything more than stare at the scrapes of landscape and, occasionally, glance towards the cradle behind you, where your Lina slept soundly, unaffected by your racing heart or gnawing nerves. It was for the best, as unfair as it felt that you would have to burden her fear as well. You did this so she wouldn’t have to suffer like you had, wouldn’t have to live under the suffocating care of a man with too much power and too little love in his heart.
You were doing this so she would never have to know what it was like to be a part of Childe’s family, and a toddler's cluelessness wasn't going to be the thing that made you give up.
With a shallow sigh, you tore yourself away from the window and brought yourself back into the reality of your cluttered apartment, hastily thrown into disarray after his visit that afternoon. As many of your possessions as you could account for had been ripped from their drawers and thrown from their cabinets, brought out into the open where you could take stock of what few belongings you had. There wasn’t much you needed, really. Any family heirlooms or beloved childhood trinkets had been lost the first time you escaped from Childe, but you filled your pockets with what little you still considered dear to you  - a rose-shaped pendant a kind stranger had gifted to you when you first arrived in Mondstadt, a flimsy ring of golden vines and miniature cecilias you had won at a booth during the last Windbloom festival, and lastly, the sphere of metal and glass as-of-yet unbound by any casing. Your Vision, as much as you hated acknowledging the damned thing’s existence.
 Your cloak was next, dark enough to melt into the shadows of the forest and long enough to drag against the floor as you tied it around your neck. A swab of shapeless, black fabric accompanied it, but before you made use of that, you found the powered sleeping draught a healer had given your sometime back, when the nightmares were still too vivid to be suppressed by exhaustion alone. Gritting your teeth, you spread a small portion of the lilac dust over the pad of your thumb, and approached the cradle.
It was a small mercy, really, that whatever resemblance Childe had seen in Lina was lost on you. She had reddish hair, but it was too light, closer to blonde than ginger. Her eyes, while blue, were brighter, more curious, more full of life than those of a man who felt nothing but bloodlust and obsession could ever be. She did not have her abductor’s freckles, his pale skin, and you were thankful each time you looked at her that you did not see Childe, that she would never be bound to him by blood or by likeness.
You could remember the day he brought her home, no more than a few months old and bundled in his blood-flecked coat. He’d made it out to be a miracle, as if the archons had descended from Celestia and laid the child that you had selfishly refused to give him at his feet. You’d already decided to run away by then, already started to plan how you’d escape his awful little cabin and his awful frozen nation, but Lina had forced you into immediate action. It was one thing to submit yourself to Childe, to play soft and innocent for another week while you prepared. You couldn't have left Lina in his care for any longer than absolutely necessary and still expected to be able to live with yourself.
That might’ve been why your heart ached as painfully as it did as you reached down, slipping your thumb past her lips and spreading the powder across her gums. She stirred, her expression souring, but you swallowed back your remorse as the sleeping draught took effect, as she relaxed and fell into a sleep too still to be natural. The guilt was nearly overwhelming, but you would have to stomach it. Whatever happened, she couldn’t wake up. Not before you made sure she was somewhere safe.
Steeling yourself, you pulled the cloak’s deep hood over your head, lifted Lina from her cradle, swaddled her body in the black fabric, and slipped out of your apartment and into the night.
--
Childe was in your apartment.
In your living room, sitting in your favorite (and only) armchair, bouncing Lina softly on his lap. You could hear her cooing as soon as you stepped through the door, see her sitting upright and gripping at the fingers of an offered hand, taste the apology you'd been practicing for taking so long at the afternoon market, but it took you a little longer to notice Childe, to process that he was here, in your house, holding your daughter. Like he had any right to. Like you hadn’t gotten away from him.
“I can already tell - she’s gonna be a fighter.” He was already grinning, already pushing himself to his feet. You couldn’t move, couldn’t run as he came to stand next to you, holding her against his side. “That’s our little Atalanta. Barely a year old and already shaping up to be such a fierce warrior.”
Atalanta. You’d almost managed to forget that Childe had given her a name of his own – a name fit for a hero, at that. Your Lina wouldn’t be a hero. She wouldn’t carry a name that demanded a place in the tales of adventures and on the tongues of storytellers. She would live a quiet, happy life in Mondstadt. the city of freedom. She would be great if she wanted to be, but she wouldn’t be a weapon. She wouldn’t be what he would’ve raised her into.
“She's growing like a weed, too.” And yet, you couldn’t seem to say that. You couldn’t seem to move. A hand fell to the small of your back, his smile taking on a softer drawl as he let his head lull to the side. “We’ll have to redecorate the nursery. I tried to keep up with all the milestones, but it’s been… how long? Nine months?” He paused, chuckled. “You kept me lonely, you know that? I didn’t even have our little Atalanta to keep me company.”
Something very large and very sharp lodged itself in the back of your throat. “Lina.”
Childe’s smile faltered. “What was that, dear?”
“Her name is Lina.” You were smart enough not to try and tear Lina out of his arms, but that did little to stifle the temptation. “You’re not welcome here. Get out and get away from my daughter.”
He let out a breathy laugh, pulling away from you and returning Lina to her cradle, unbothered by your meager threats. “You’re really going to be stubborn about this, huh? I let you go on your little trip, gave you more than enough time to live out your little fantasy in this rotting shack of a country, and you’re still going to be stubborn?” Another laugh, another faltering grin. He started towards you, careful to keep himself between you and Lina, but it was an unnecessary precaution. You were rooted to the ground, unable to move as he embraced you – wholeheartedly, this time, both arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you off the floor and into his chest. You could feel his smoldering breath fanning over the side of your neck, his blunt nails burrowing into your sides as he fought to keep you as close as possible, but you did nothing to resist him. You weren’t going to fight him in front of Lina, no matter how much you wanted to claw at his face, to shove at his chest, to get him away from you. You weren’t going to make her watch that. “Come home. I’m only going to ask once.”
He hadn’t asked at all, but it would’ve been a waste of time to point that out.
“Are… are you going to hurt me, if I refuse?”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m going to hurt you either way. You ran away from me. You stole my daughter.” Spoken softly, with more than a note of anticipation in his voice. “But, if you don’t put up a fight, I’ll try not to break anything that won’t heal.”
--
His subordinates were swarming the area around your apartment. They couldn’t wander openly, not with the attention their concentrated presence would draw, but you could feel their eyes burning into you from side streets and alleyways as you descended the narrow staircase, prying into you for a moment before moving onto their next target. They were looking for someone who fit Childe’s description – a sweet, doe-eyed thing carrying a child made from sunlight and laughter, not someone dressed for weather much more hostile than anything Mondstadt had to offer, trotting a formless heap of material. What interest your attire would’ve garnered dissolved completely as you joined a large group of passing drunkards, thrown out of their taverns and sent to stumble home at some unholy hour, too belligerent to do anything but welcome you into their numbers. It was a small blessing that you'd spent as much time in the taverns as you had, despite how little you cared for wine. There wasn't a barfly within Mondstadt's walls who would think to question your presence among them.
You followed them north, through the city’s commercial district, keeping your head low and Lina wrapped in your arms until you reached the gate to the eastern port. The drunkards continued on, but you remained.
It was deserted, as you thought it would be. You knew Fatui agents were posted at the city’s gates, waiting to catch you if you tried to flee this nation, too, but the eastern port wasn’t so eye-catching, wasn’t such a vital thing to guard when it came to blocking off the possible escape routes of runaway captives. Even if it hadn’t been so easily forgotten, it would’ve been a waste of men to guard. There was only one bridge over Cider Lake, and no one in their right mind would try to swim across, especially with a child in tow. Unless you could walk on water, the main gates were the only way in or out of the city.
Unfortunately for Childe, you weren’t as helpless as you’d been the first time he stole you away.
You followed the shore for as long as you could, until the city’s walls threatened to bend and reveal your position to the agents posted at the main gates. With no lack of trepidation, stepped onto the sand and reached into your pocket, taking up your Vision and holding it tightly in your clenched fist. The chill bit into your palm, unhindered by any casing, pure Cryo energy pulsing beneath the hazy surface of the glass. You hadn’t been able to look at it for weeks after you arrived in Mondstadt, and even after you’d started to overcome your aversion, it was hard to imagine a world wherein you could carry it proudly, where you could give such an awful thing the care and attention it’d take to learn how to use it properly.
Not that you had time to practice, right now. It was all you could do to give yourself a few seconds to catch your breath as you stepped out and onto the lake, the glassy water instantly freezing underneath your feet. A hairline crack formed across the surface as you shifted your weight onto it, but the ice held, and you let your shoulders slump, relief replacing a fraction of your anxiety. It was slow progress, each step hesitant and unsure, but you persisted, even as frost crept up the heel of your boots, even as a chill more pointed and more penetrating than any you’d felt before seeped under your skin and into the gaps between tissue and bone.
Even as, as much as you loathed to admit, you realized that the cold was not quite as unpleasant as you'd hoped it would be.
--
“But, if you don’t put up a fight, I’ll try not to break anything that won’t heal.”
You glanced towards the cradle, towards Lina as she struggled to sit up and started to look for her suddenly absent source of entertainment. It wasn’t good to lay her down so quickly, to leave her unattended while she was still awake, but once again, you doubted it’d be of any use to tell Childe that. “What’ll happen to Lina?”
“I’ll take care of Atalanta, obviously.” You could feel his lips against the curve of your throat, the points of his teeth against your skin. “I've had to wait months for this. Do you really think I’d neglect her now?”
You were more worried about how she’d turn out under his full attention.
But, you pretended to consider it, pressing your lips into a thin line and going quiet. After more than a few seconds, you brought your hands up to his chest – not shoving, but nudging gently, softening yourself into something delicate, something he’d be able to understand. There was a throaty, disappointed groan, a minute or so of resistance, but eventually, he lowered you back onto your feet, letting his hand fall to your hips. “I’ll come with you,” you started, slowly, deliberately. It hurt to say, the sentiment searing your throat and catching on your teeth. The fact that you, of course, did not mean a word you said was only a minor salve. “But, Lina deserves one last day in her home, and so do I. Give us until dawn tomorrow, then we’ll both come willingly.”
He bowed his head, falling far enough to let his lips brush against your forehead. He’d always thought of any distance between your body and his as an unnecessary frivolity, a luxury he wasn’t willing to give you. Apparently, your time apart hadn’t lessened his distaste for separation. “You know how pointless it is to run, right? The Fatui have every plank of wood in this city under surveillance, and my subordinates won’t be as forgiving with you as I am.”
“Please, Childe.” You lean into him, melting against his chest. He was a soldier, a warrior, not a diplomat. If you were sweet enough, if you spoke in a way that appealed to his delusions, then he would listen. “Just one more day. Then, you’ll have us for the rest of our lives.”
There was another squeeze to your waist, another lingering kiss to your forehead. “One day.”
There was no need to look at him as he pulled away. You could practically hear his smile.
“Then, you’re all mine.”
--
You made it to shore unscathed, but your trek through the forest was not so painless.
Each step was labored, made more impossible by the bundle in your arms, the weight of your cloak, the months you’d spend living in domestic peace. Your cloak snagged on every stray branch and boulder, your boots easily caught under roots and stray vines, and the darkness of the night only served to make each obstacle more unavoidable, more difficult to shield Lina from. Even holding your daughter was a challenge, once the adrenaline faded and exhaustion began to set in. Your arms ached where they had not already gone numb, and your chest swelted underneath the heavy fabric, more suited for Snezhnaya's eternal winter than Monstadt's ever-present summer. Resigning yourself to the main road would’ve cut hours off of your journey, but roads were patrolled, and you could not risk meeting another person – knight, adventurer, and agent alike. You didn’t have the time it would’ve taken to explain yourself, let alone pick a fight.
You travelled west, across the valleys of Windrise, through the most wilderness-infested outskirts of Springville. The sky was beginning to lighten by the time your destination came into sight, and with its purpose now obsolete, you shed your cloak and began to descend, taking your time to skirt down sheer rockfaces, to wad through the slow-running streams that webbed across the land. You navigated through the rows of wooden racks and grape vines, not yet in bloom, only letting yourself slow as dirt turned to cobblestone, as the mansion before you turned from a shadowed suggestion to a great, towering structure – secure in the sheer implication of its size.
Finally, finally, you came to a stop before the main entryway. It was all you could do to stand there for a moment, to stare up at the mansion and note all the minute differences between its face and that of Childe’s cabin. When you finished, you raised your hand and, with as much force as you could manage, knocked on the door to Dawn Winery.
A maid answered immediately, confusion turning to abject horror as she noticed the state of your clothing, the leaves and debris caught in your hair, the thousand or so tiny cuts and scrapes pleated over your arms and face. She opened her mouth, but you spoke first, unwilling to spend any longer out in the open than you already had. “I need to speak to Master Ragnvindr.”
She pursed her lips. “The young Master does not—”
“Concerning what topic?”
It was a masculine voice, coming from further down the hall. Somewhat begrudgingly, the maid pulled the door open, allowing you to see into the dim mansion. Diluc stood at the other end of the hall, half-dressed, a length of black ribbon in one hand and his hair gathered in the other. Clearly, you’d interrupted his morning rituals. “I’ve heard,” you started, unwrapping Lina’s bundling and praying that those long nights spent listening to the rumors that swirled in the deepest pits of the darkest taverns would serve you well. “that you do not hold much affection for the Fatui.”
His gaze flickered from you to Lina, to your trembling arms. With little hesitation, he approached you, meeting your eyes as he reached for your daughter. You gave a reluctant nod, and he took her up, holding her to his broad chest. “I've always preferred to keep less blood-stained company.”
“In that case,” You step across the threshold, allowing the door to fall shut behind you.
“How would you like to make a Harbinger very, very angry?”
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gildedkrone · 7 months
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KINKTOBER 2023 🔞
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The house is quiet; Luna had slinked off somewhere in the house and a cat shaped blur of white in the yard under the afternoon sun is your answer.
Johnny is splayed across the couch in a slumbering man—one arm across his torso with the other resting beside his head on a cushion. Today, he opted for a small white singlet ending above his navel as it showcased his abs and a v-line disappearing into a pair of military-issued olive briefs.
The happy trail disappearing into his briefs is tantalising, to say the least. With each shift of his body, the briefs only seemed to slide lower until the bush peeks through the waistband and the tight garment holds onto the bulge in fear of sliding right off.
What a fucking tease to wear clothes from basic training which no longer fit his more muscled body. He’s sleeping now, and the conversation from a week ago rears its head.
“Whit if ye made me cum whin I was sleeping?” You almost choked on your food when the words slipped through his mouth full of meal.
“What?” And he’s appearing all innocent and what not.
“Dinnae yi'll waant tae fin' oot?”
“I don’t understand you, dummy.”
“Aw, c’mon bonnie, don’t you want to find out?”
The truth is you wanted to find out and with nothing else to do, the offer stands tempting. He is fast asleep and you fingers gently brush across his briefs. They catch on the opening in the garment and his face keeps its slack.
Fuck, were you actually going to do this?
Your hand evidently thought so and palmed him gently through the fabric amidst steady snoring. It took a while, but eventually, there is a stirring in his loins and the small garment is stretched obscenely as the bulge becomes even more pronounced. And you would be lying if this wasn’t at all arousing.
Taking pity on his tool, and not wanting to cause him any discomfort, you freed his dick through the piss hole in his slutty man briefs. The smack against your forearm by his engorged length when you let go freezes you just as Johnny makes a noise before his snores resume.
A man’s heartbeat is fluttering in motion.
Johnny is a big boy. Even somewhat hard, it’s length is more than half of your forearm. Curved slightly, for his partner’s pleasure and in a slightly darker shade above a neat bush adorning, according to Johnny, his favourite body part. Your tongue gently brushes against the bulbous head and pretty pink lips part in response to your tongue snaking all the way down to the base of his dick. You keep an eye on him throughout and noted the small twitching of his lips whenever your tongue ran over the thick throbbing vein spanning his entire dick.
Johnny has a dislike for jerking off in the military and given his last orgasm was probably two weeks ago, it’s no wonder Johnny is pent up to some degree. You taste his salty pre and the skilled tongue pulls the first of many moans from his guttural throat.
A man’s heartbeat is living in motion.
His length rests on his thigh and your nose inhales the musk of his groin—manly and reeking of ball sweat since Johnny’s a man who ran hot—and your tongue finds purchase on the plump sack below the main attraction. His soft breaths turn into a whine as a finger trace the individual testes while his fingers curl and unfurl.
Thirst.
Thirst is what you feel when you rolled his balls across your tongue to engulf his prized possessions in wet heat. His dick has risen to full mast—an angry and reddish head leaks copious amounts of pre onto his thigh and dully throbbing, it’s indicative of the stress wracking his body. As his partner, you are duty bound to … relieve him of the tension. Empty his balls so he can have a better sleep.
So you redouble your efforts on his very sensitive sack and Johnny makes all sorts of noises—whines, moan, groans, and whimpers as he twists and turns in his sleep. His head rolls over and his arms jerks in time with his lascivious thighs. You made sure to leave his dick alone and focus the assault on his scrotum. He shivers and your nose is pressed further into his bush when the seam running through the middle of his scrotum is grazed by your teeth and cushioned by drool.
A quick glance up reveals the man to be erect as two nubs poke through the tight singlet. He body seizes slightly when you roll them between your fingers. While keeping his nuts occupied, to your pleasure, he mutters more and drool seeps onto the cushion from the rolling of his head. His face reflects what he’s feeling with lips nicely parted while his body subconsciously squirms under your palm and tongue.
A man’s heartbeat is resonance in motion.
“mmrow … please … mmow …”
It’s been slightly over fifteen minutes since you began; the rippling of his toned abs accompanies the jerky flexing of his feet. Johnny is still under the influence of slumber and pure innocence on man known for military violence is a scarlet fire of temptation beckoning you to service him. You smear his pre across his balls and the ignored shaft occasionally moves with the contraction of his groin muscles and lifts strings of pre into the air. It’s a tantalizing sight to behold as his face furrows as if in deep concentration—the narrowing of his eyebrows and tightness in his cheeks even as he continues to verbalise how good he feels in his dreams.
It's time to bring him home. A man in pleasure is vulnerable man indeed—and Johnny’s about to find out why. Your tongue rolls his nuts between teeth as a hand cups his sack while another plays with his nipples. A little pain does the trick and you give his testicles a squeeze in sharp contrast together with a deep hum vibrating through his entire groin and your eyes slide over to his neglected dick.
Johnny nearly shouts; his hands fists above his chest and his knees jerks and misses your face by inches while he blearily calls your name in confusion. His abdomen contracts hard and his dick jumps slightly before white leaks out of the piss slit.
“Loue … whit's … gaun oan mmph!”
His eyes are laced with sleep in a slightly raised head. Blurry eyes spot you nestled between his legs and mouthing on his balls as his mind starts to piece together what’s happening. His hips shake in place; without a hand on his dick he is confused where the pleasure is and where to direct his hips as toes curl with how euphoric his genitals feel. More awake, much louder gasp and expletives escapes his throat as he grips your head and pulls it deeper into his pelvis.
A man’s heartbeat is satiation in motion.
A thick stream of cum runs off the side of his thighs onto the couch. You lather your fingers in them before crawling forward to shove them into his mouth. His waking mind registers your fingers and starts sucking while excess cum pools on his thighs. He chuckles and wraps an arm around your torso.
“Hell's bells that's a hell o' a wey tae wake up loue.”
“I don’t speak Scottish, shit for hair.” To be fair, that does make it easier to tug his head.
“This’ a hell of a wake up routine, love and yer said you loved mah mohawk last week!”
“Bet you had a good dream huh?” He describes a fog in his mind slowly invading his loins with heat and itch. Waking to you with a mouth stuffed by his junk was the tipping point—his eager dick packs disobedience and comes hands free. You earn a contented moan when you roughly palm his spent dick as he pulls you in for tight embrace.
“Johnny, unhand me.” You push against him arms which have come to cage you in as he shakes his head. He chuffs and nestles his dick between your thighs.
“A'm still sleepy. A bit mair, love.”
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Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist
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shares-a-vest · 2 months
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@steddielovemonth Day 28: Love is… When you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can’t stop thinking about kissing him (Prompt by @starryeyedjanai)
wc: 733 | Rated: T for suggestive language | cw: None
Tags: Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Family Video, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Jeff (not present but mentioned a lot), Cliffhanger Ending (might write a cheeky sequel tomorrow)
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'Lips'
Eddie should have known it was a mistake to visit Family Video on his lunch break. His excuse to Jeff was that the store had better air conditioning than the mechanic shop. Aka, an air conditioner.
Besides, he promised his friend that he wouldn’t be all that long.
Unlike yesterday.
… Or the day before.
And that no, Jefferson, best friend dearest compatriot, it has nothing to do with Steve Harrington’s summer attire – a good ol’-fashioned too-tight polo and a pair of jean shorts that have not been rotating around in his pea-brain for the better part of a month and a half now that they are in the throws of an Indiana summer.
Nope. None of that.
Nor does his desperation to skip down three blocks and waste his entire lunch break have anything to do with the chapstick Steve has taken to wearing (though Robin’s recent snickering suggests the reddish-pink pouty blessing is a Harrington Summer Standard).
But Eddie just can’t stop staring as his completely kissable crush bemoans working a double shift.
... Or something.
He isn’t really sure because Steve just bit his lip in annoyance – Keith! He definitely just mentioned that loser! – and, well, now there’s an indent on his bottom lip that is making Eddie think about how red they could get if they were all kiss-bitten and...
Eddie forces himself to look up from the plush pout Steve has permanently plastered to his face when he is bitching.
He is met with a faint crinkle in Steve’s brow and yeah, it is probably quite obvious he is not paying attention. His eye wanders above Steve’s frown to the beads of sweat pearling at his hairline.
He gulps.
No, no, no!
This can’t be happening! Steve cannot start sweating too.
It’s bad enough that Eddie has seen him all hot and bothered, his delicious chest hair all matted and grimy as they ran for their lives in an undead hellscape. And their late afternoon sojourns to the Quarry are downright cruel as Steve strips off his sweat-stained shirt to reveal equally sweaty hair that trails down, down, all the way down beyond his waistband to what is surely a sizeable –
“– Eddie!”
He grips the counter between them with grease-stained fingers and holds on for dear life.
“Huh?” he grunts, his eyes landing back on those lips like it’s now the worst possible habit he could ever have the misfortune of developing.
Because Steve is, well, Steve Harrington. Ladies Man. Casanova. Dorky wooer and hot former-jock turned actual good dude.
Stevie H. who’s all plush and pouty and... Moisturised.
Those lips look soft, don’t they?
And maybe the reddish hue is a sign of a flavour? Perhaps cherry? Maybe even strawberry?
Eddie licks his own bone-dry lips as he thinks about tasting it.
Tasting Steve...
How those beautiful smackers would look all swollen from spending time wrapped around his –
“Are you even listening?” Steve whines, lightly smacking the counter with his gigantic, manly hand.
“Yeah – oh… um, yeah sure, man,” he splutters.
Steve’s sceptical frown faulters, softening as he looks Eddie over. He purses those lips.
Fuck.
It’s painfully obvious, isn’t it?
Eddie closes his eyes and sucks in a breath.
Jeff was right. Today, a mere ten minutes ago... Yesterday... The day before...
He should just let go of the counter, turn heel and run back to work to sweat his balls off. At least there he wouldn't be confronted with he tantalising mouth of one Steve Harrington and all the filthy thoughts that come with staring at them.
His wristwatch beeps in agreement – a warning alarm Jeff set by yanking at his arm before he stepped out of the shop on his merry way.
“Hey,” he begins, clearing his throat as he dares open his eyes again.
And he finds Steve staring back, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his sinful mouth. He licks his lips and those hazel, now greedy-looking eyes flit down and linger there.
As if they are examining...
“I gotta go!” Eddie screeches.
His shout sends Steve shooting upright from where he had drifted into leaning across the counter.
Eddie launches himself backwards, stumbling towards the door as he incoherently splutters about Jeff and gaskets and the miserable PB&J sandwich he has waiting for him in his beat-up lunch tin.
“Eddie, wait!”
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otomestatus · 4 months
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know it's for the better; manjiro s. / reader
an: wanted to write an original work on this blog and this has been consuming my little thoughts!
Your eyes flutter open, welcoming the light from the afternoon sun. Your cheek was rested upon the flat surface of your desk as your arms encircled the circumference of your head. Blinking once, twice, your vision was met with a mop of soft blonde hair also laying on your desk. The owner of said hair had his face hidden in his arms, his body rising and falling gently with each shallow breath. The classroom around you was painted in a reddish glow as the sun began its descent in the horizon. Birds chirped, leaves rustled out the window, and you felt at peace. Slowly you rose in your seat, your finger gently reaching out to poke the top of his head.
“Hey, Mikey…” You speak barely above a whisper, your tone light and feathery. He shifted and hesitated to poke his head up to meet your gaze. He stares at you with this groggily look in his eyes.
“Whaaat…?” Mikey groans, his hands coming up to rub the sleep from his eyes. There is a dull ache in the hollow of your chest as a full view of his face enters your sight. He’s tired and no doubt going to complain about being hungry, but you’re losing yourself in your own thoughts. It’s the way his blonde hair frames his face and how his dark lashes flutter each time he blinks. You had always known the truth. Ever since you were kids you had always known and will always continue to know. It was an irrefutable fact that you were unequivocally, undeniably in love with Manjiro Sano. So as you sit here and admire the way the afternoon sunset blankets his face in its warm glow, you can feel your heart stutter. You hesitate with your next words, but you know the day must come to its end.
“We should head home…” It’s a murmur, but it’s loud enough for Mikey to hear. You don’t know when you’d become so shy.
Mikey hums, propping his elbows up on your desk and cradling his head in the palm of his hands. He looks unconvinced and a small part of you had been hoping it meant he wanted to spend a little longer with you. To sit in the comfort of each other’s presence and talk idly about anything and everything in between. You are holding your breath, waiting for him to speak.
“I don’t have anything to do until later so I’m fine.” He grins, wide and warm, and your cheeks dust a gentle pink color. There’s something in his smile, something so bright. Yet, something so distant like a far off memory from a moment lost to time. You want to cup your hands around his cheeks and hold him there. No rhyme or reason, you just want to bask in that smile for as long as possible. You adore it more than could be described with mere words. The ache prodding in your sternum is a testament to all the ways you have loved him so. All the way you will continue to love him. And, perhaps, that is the problem.
“You okay? You’re just staring.” There’s a slight tilt to his head as he stares at you, curiosity brimming in his dark eyes. You flinch.
“Oh… Yeah, just…” You hesitate before continuing, “You’re pretty.”
You don’t know what compelled you to say it. And maybe you’ll never know either. However, Mikey’s surprise quickly dissipates and invites a wide, toothy grin in its wake. You expected him to laugh or make fun of you for such a compliment, but his expression is anything but displeased. He chuckles, “Haven’t heard that one before.”
There’s something familiar in the way he says that. Your mouth opens slightly then shuts again. Your head turns slightly to look out the window. The sky is void of clouds and there’s a distant sound of children playing. It’s all so familiar, all so tender. His voice brings you back to him.
“You get it, don’t you?” He asks, his smile never wavering. You don’t understand or you do, but you don’t want to. It’s easier to pretend. However, he’s staring at you, eyes knowing yet their emotion is completely unreadable. A child screams and laughs in the neighborhood across the street. A breeze dances through the open classroom window. You understand.
“I saw it on Takemichi’s face.” You shift, sitting straight up, your own expression blank. Across from you he leans back in his own chair. His eyes appear gentle as if they’ve fully reached acceptance. You hadn’t, though.
Mikey laughs, “Yeah, that’s Takemitchy! Always showing exactly how he feels.”
He isn’t fazed when you don’t laugh, or frown, or even chastise him for finding humor in it. No, he knows you like the flowers know spring and the animals know winter. He knows you like how the stars know the moon. There is not an inch of your personhood Mikey does not know. You want to feel vindicated, but you don’t. That surprises you. The sun hasn’t moved an inch. The sky is still vibrant hues of orange and red and the cicadas play their tune.
“Manjiro…” You begin.
Mikey grins, “I always liked when you called me that.”
“Huh?”
“Manjiro. I always liked when you called me Manjiro.” He’s looking at you longingly and you’re looking at him with such a sadness that threatens to swallow you whole.
You exhale softly, “I’ve always liked you.”
“Liked?” He hums. You don’t tense. There’s no reason to.
“Loved.” You admit, “I do. Still.”
He seems to ponder this. Silence fills the air and this classroom feels almost suffocating. His head lulls back, his dark eyes staring up at the ceiling tiles. You rest your left hand on your desk and pinch your index and thumb together-- the nail of your index scratching lightly at the side of your thumb to nervously pick the skin. That ache in your chest is amplified by the wave of nostalgia crashing into you.
“I really wanted to hear that before I go.” Mikey’s tone is laced with despondency. There’s a lump in your throat and you can’t swallow it, you can’t get rid of it. Just like how you couldn’t get rid of the love you held for him all these years. Maybe even for the rest of your life. Your bottom lip quivers, but you force a sharp inhale to maintain your composure. The cicadas are quiet, the children are gone, and the leaves of the trees aren’t rustling in the wind. There is just an eerie quiet and your own grief blossoming along your ribcage.
“So you’re leaving?” It’s a question that you don’t want to know the answer to, but you ask it anyway. Mikey lifts his head up to meet your eyes. They are your favorite sight.
“Yeah, I’m leaving.” And it sounds so final, so permanent because it is. You gasp and your eyes prickle with tears you were desperate to hold at bay. That was a fool’s goal after all.
“Do you love me?” Again, a question, but this time it’s important you know. You need to know.
Mikey’s eyes fell to the desk in front of him, “How could I not?”
You’re stifling a sob and he’s staring at you with a tenderness you want to slap off his face. Deep down you knew it. The moment Takemichi came by your apartment after arriving back from the Philippines, the moment he locked eyes with you and sputtered out a desperate apology. Twelve years and you were bleeding out from all the love and grief you tried to keep inside. Twelve years of wondering where he was, what he was doing, and why he was destroying every piece of a past you longed to go back to.
“I don’t want this to be a dream…” You choked out between sobs, hiding your face in your hands so he cannot see the tears you shed for him, “Manjiro, I don’t understand…!”
There’s the sound of fabric shifting and the chair scraping against the floor before his hand connects with your head, fingers combing slightly in your hair. It makes you cry harder. It would be easier for him to rip your heart out, but he’s kind and he’s gentle. He’s your Manjiro.
“Know it’s for the better.” He leans down and whispers these words into your ear. Before you can even respond, your body jolts awake and alone in a twin sized bed you had grown to hate. The rain outside your window beats down against the glass. Your alarm clock reads 2:31 AM. In this tiny apartment you begrudgingly call you, you are inconsolable. You are a weak heart. So you turn and shove your face into your pillow, screaming into the soft plushness of it with all the pain you’ve bottled up in these twelve years. For the first time in all those years, however, you finally feel as if you can breathe.
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moonami · 1 month
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i would love to see you draw romano in that kind of reddish afternoon style if thsts not a weird request! if your request ask is still open
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He's utterly insane!!!ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ
(it has been CENTURIES since the last time I drew a chara with classic RA style.)
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reddishafternoon · 2 months
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Reddish Afternoon doesn't have actual plot and it's from now on an AU created uniquely for my own satisfaction and unhinged fun like it originally was, it is aesthetics + yandere hetalia for the sake of it 🔥🔥🔥🔥
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ourautumn86 · 7 months
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Hey so could u write smth where reader is about to shower but like has a breakdown abt feeling insecure of her body and Ellie comforts her, could be smutty if u want! (Pls include stretch marks as an insecurity bc I've been feeling so insecure abt mine lately and I have them everywhere😭 my hips, thighs, stomach, boobs even!)
a/n; okay but think about how soft and reassuring she’ll be…
perfectly imperfect
ellie williams x insecure reader
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cw; a lil of angst, crying, insecurity about weight and body, fluff, kisses and ellie being the best girlfriend ever.
you felt tears swell in your eyes as you stared at your reflection. you hated what you saw, the fat that enveloped your body under skin, how it was scarred with stretch marks around your hips, belly and tits…
you bit down on your lip, feeling the knot on your stomach tighten. how could anyone find you attractive like this?
tears were falling down your cheeks when the door to your apartment swung open, ellie stepping in with recently bought groceries.
“babe?” she called out for you as she left them on the counter of the kitchen, not finding you anywhere before she heard the soft sobs coming from the bathroom. scared, in case you’d gotten hurt, she hurried to open the door, finding you completely naked and with reddish puffy eyes. “baby? what’s wrong?” she inquired, a frown of worry showing on her beautiful features. you cried against her chest, her arms carefully surrounding your body as if you were the most pressure thing she had ever touched —‘cause you were—. she shushed you, stroking you back. “talk to me pretty girl, you know i hate it when you cry.”
“i’m so ugly els, i hate myself.” her frown deepened.
“what are you talking about doll, you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen.” you shook your head, her hands cupping your face, thumbs drying away your tears.
“i’m fat, and have stretch marks everywhere. how can you love me? there are so many beautiful girls out there… i’m just waiting for you to realize that and leave…” she hushed you, cutting you off.
“baby. i love you. and your body is beautiful. i love it. i love your little rolls and your beautiful stretch marks. they don’t change the way you look for me. you’re intelligent. and hot, and gorgeous and i couldn’t have wished for a better girlfriend.” she kissed your cheeks. “and i’m not gonna leave you. ever. you know that.” she pecked your lips.
“you promise?” you voice was broken, a thin line.
“i promise.” she nodded. “i can’t wait to love you ‘till the day i die. and if i have to remind you how beautiful you are every day i’ll do it. you’re perfect. look at you.” she turned you around so you could watch yourself, her hands caressing your sides. “so pretty and perfect for me…” she kissed your shoulder. “i love everything about you. you drive me crazy.” you smiled, leaning against her chest as she softly kissed your head. “want me to show you?” you looked into her emerald eyes, shining with determination. after you nodded she smiled. “come on.” she took of her own shirt. “let’s get in the shower, hm?”
ellie spent the whole afternoon taking care of you; after having washed your body with her own hands —kissing you every inch of your skin and praising you for how beautiful and breathtaking you were— and took care of your hair she had kissed every inch of your body and over your stretch marks, making your favorite meal and buying you your favorite treats, watching your favorite movie, doing face masks, brushing your hair, cuddling you to sleep…
and every few minutes she’d repeat: ‘you’re perfect. i love you.’
and then, every time you’d look at yourself you could hear it. and you’d say. “i’m perfect. i love me.”
‘cause you were perfect just the way you were.
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bluejutdae · 3 months
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•  Stray Kids as specific types of tea | OT8
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Chan
Apricot brandy black tea — natural brandy flavor and apricots, sweet, fruity with late summer notes. Dark, coppery color. Moderate in caffeine.
Minho
Gyokuro green tea — rich, oceanic flavor and subtle sweetness. Bright green color. Low in caffeine.
Changbin
Lemon mate tea — light and grassy taste with citrus and vegetal notes, energetic. Yellowish green color. High in caffeine.
Hyunjin
Tieguanyin oolong tea — clean, sharp, with notes of citrus and orchid. A hint of sweetness and a buttery finish. Pale golden color. Moderate in caffeine.
Jisung
Earl Grey lavender and honey black tea — soothing, aromatic, refreshing if cold or iced. Dark, coppery color. Moderate in caffeine.
Felix
Caramel Pu-erh tea — dark, rich, sweet finish for the caramel, earthy. Also called "desert in a cup", perfect for a cozy afternoon. Dark reddish color. Moderate in caffeine.
Seungmin
Blueberry and pomegranate white tea — fruity, bright, tart, fresh. Good either hot or iced. Golden pink color. Low in caffeine.
Jeongin
Lychee purple tea — with apple and pineapple hints, fruity and fresh. Sweet with tropical notes. Violet color. Low in caffeine.
*not what they like or drink, but just what I associate them with.
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doki-doki-imagines · 10 months
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author note: @kenruu told me this idea couldn't stay in the dms and I wrote it. I'm really sad thanks to uni so I can't really say if this is good or not. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it.
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Sae is a man with a precise objective, being the best midfielder in the world. “It’s simple” Sae thinks, he has the talent, works hard, it’s obvious he’ll be able to do it, and his mind never wavers. Football is his whole world, his only thought.
Then Sae met you, and it’s not like his world changed, he kept training and winning, just, this time, in a little chink of his brain you started to grow, filling that little space with info of you.
“They would like this” “If they saw this their reaction would be so cute” it doesn’t happen often to be thinking of you, but when it does a dumb smile plaster on his face.
Until it’s not a seldom thought, but it becomes relentless, a thrum he can’t brush away, and honestly? Sae wants to vomit.
Sae hates it, every time he imagines your face his chest roar, and he can hear the blood rushing to his face, every time he thinks he’s gonna pass out like a fool on the ground.
At first, it was something happening only inside the closed door of his mansion, maybe you sent him a cute video or just told him about your day and Sae was fine with this; he can look like a dumbass fool in his own house, but not on the field.
Sae can’t stop thinking of you, football isn’t his main objective anymore and for the first time he feels weak, football is his entire life, he is nothing without that; damn chink and damn your smile, your cute face your fucking entire being.
And it doesn’t matter how many times the red hair hits his head against the cement wall of the stadium, hits it hard enough to break skin and leave blood, he can’t get you out of his mind.
“Sae, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but if you want to play the next match you need to pull your shit together.” His coach told him after the umpteenth missed cross.
Breath gets stuck in his throat, Sae feels like he just got stabbed in the heart; he must put a stop to this situation.
“Get out!”
“I’m coming Sae, did something happen?”
This is why he is now in front of your house, 3 hours before the match starts with blood in his eyes, and fists tight on his sides.
“Tell me you hate me.” Your eyes widened, this looks serious.
“Sae you know it isn’t-“
“I’m in love with you and- Shut up! Don’t you dare open your mouth, let me finish-“ He has his teeth bared, index finger up pointing at you “And you have to reject me, I can’t go on like this.”
It’s like a cold shower, for sure not what you expected to hear on a normal Thursday afternoon.
You keep your lips sealed, you can see in his irises a little quiver, but he keeps looking at you straight in the eyes, his index now down, hand moving like he wants to throw something on the ground, maybe a thought he preferred to scrap instead of voicing it.
“Please, I need you to reject me” He shuts his eyes, and curl his nose in his typical disgusted expression, you notice small tears hanging on his reddish lashes now rolling down his cheeks, bottom lip wounded, red by the incessant bit of his canine.
You never saw him so desperate, so vulnerable, if you listened closely you could hear cracks every time he tried to speak up.
“Are you even listening to me” Sae's voice is harsh, as always, but there is no bite in his words. You take a step closer and constrain every muscle of your body to stay there, don’t move.
Crack.
“I need to concentrate on football, there is my entire life at risk here-“ A sigh breaks his phrase, and you feel your heart cracking “I-I don’t want to like you anymore” he brushes his little fringe back, arms moving around and feet moving back and forth without making a real step; he looks so nervous.
Crack.
Your breath itch, you feel your heart in your throat, not because of his words, but for how desperate he sounded; you don’t want to hear him like this ever again.
You get closer.
“Fuck, say something! Don’t just look at me with those dumb puppy-” You sprint, your hands reach his jaw, your fingertips are so soft and Sae's lips change into an ugly, wobbly grimace, eyebrows furrowed.
Your lips press on his, it’s fast and delicate, if he closed his eyes he wouldn’t have seen it. You pull away, but don’t put space between your bodies, lips a whisper away from each other.
“I’ll be the one-“ one of your hand leave his jaw to brush away some red hair that sticks on his cheek “to bring you to victory, let me work my magic” He is looking at you dumbfound, his irises wobbly.
You kiss him again, but this time you grip the back of his hair to push him into a more forceful kiss.
Crack. He feels like something in his heart break, everything hurt and his hands tingle so much they hurt. Something must have been broken.
Sae this time reciprocates with equal, if not even more, passion, his hands finally find peace on your back, low on your back, pushing your body impossibly close to his.
You break the kiss, breath heavy a string of saliva still connects your mouths, you are fast at removing it.
“Go and win that match.”
Sae nods, a dumb smile plaster on his face, but you can barely see it as he laid his head on your shoulder. He kisses you again, just a simple press of lips, and runs back towards the stadium, new life on his legs reinvigorated more than ever.
“Maybe loving you and football can coexist in my head” He thinks.
For sure that night your magic did work.
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