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#built in twin bed
wr0n9way · 8 months
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Rustic Kids - Kids Room
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Kids' room - mid-sized rustic gender-neutral carpeted and beige floor kids' room idea with beige walls
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inspiredlivingspaces · 8 months
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IG pamelajaccarino - NYC, 5th Avenue @mariefanaganinteriors
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okayto · 1 year
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Oh hey I've been curious: how's your planted garlic been doing, if you planted any last year? (I've been wondering because I followed your post's instructions last October-ish and then... forgot about them, haha)
:unhinged_vibrating: I DID plant some and I am delighted to talk about it because
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It’s doing GREAT
I planted in one of my big raised beds (4x8 feet) instead of the smaller bed (4x4) so I could plant double as much as last year, and it has done super well!
The bed is actually slightly tilted because the ground isn’t flat, and interestingly, the garlic on the lower end (which would get/stay wetter) is bigger than the garlic on the upper side.
Did well through the winter, even the super-freezing-legitimately-killed-many-people’s-plants-it-was-so-unseasonably-cold part. (Good job garlic, good job me for mulching with chopped-up pampas grass and leaves, even though a lot of it blew away in a spring windstorm a couple months later.)
It should be ready to harvest in a month or so! So if you see any leaves from where you planted your garlic, yours might too! The leaves of mine haven’t started drying yet so I figure I’ve got some time.
My next big problem is gonna be location: this bed and its neighbor are disintegrating so I won’t reuse them, but that means if I want a huge garlic bed again, I will need to use one of my other two big beds, or build a new one…and for financial reasons I wasn’t planning on building a new one until next spring. Hmmm.
(Follow up: link to my garlic-growing post)
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prx2012 · 6 months
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Children Kids Room Remodeling ideas for a large modern girl's room with pink walls, a beige floor, a tray ceiling, and wallpaper
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abconcerns · 7 months
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Bedroom in Boston Mid-sized beach style gender-neutral dark wood floor and brown floor kids' room photo with blue walls
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onelittlespiral · 18 days
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FML: Urged
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I think this was the photo that got me in. Of course I get the appeal now. But at the time I thought I was just messaging some other random torso on the apps. I was supposed to just be in and out, no strings attached. After all, he wasn’t my usual type. Looked like a roided out gym rat: bit of a gut; dark, wiry hair; and thick muscles. But muscles weren’t the thickest thing about him, and who was I to pass up a good time?
So I went over to his place. I wasn’t surprised when it was a loft above a small gym. Seemed like the ideal spot for the kind of guy. What I was not expecting was the apartment itself to be so…nice? Normal? I was prepared to get fucked on a twin-sized mattress on the floor, no frame, with sweaty clothes rotting around me. But the apartment had some character. He even offered me something to drink before we got started, in an actual glass. Maybe I needed to raise my standards. We chatted, flirted a bit as I finished my water and let things get hot from there. We kissed in the kitchen, made out in the living room, and worked our way back to his bedroom as sweatshirts, belts, shirts, pants, and straps trailed behind us.
As I positioned a pillow under myself, he took off his wife beater, the last barrier between us. The shirtless torso that seduced me was on full display as I rubbed his chest. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt engulfed by this bear of a man, skin electric where I felt his hair ticking my bare chest. My senses felt heightened as I tasted cheap beer on his breath and smelled a deep musk of sweat, cum, and Old Spice, more in line with what I had expected from him. He ran his calloused hands over my chest and abs before finally taking up position over my trembling body. I wanted him in a way I hadn’t felt since I was a teen. Normally I would want to talk a bit more, at least give a safe word. But as he surrounded me and I felt his presence, my brain flipped a switch as my body instinctively relaxed for him. There were no thoughts to be had as my mind was consumed by his rich scent, the pleasure of his cock slowly stretching out my ass, and his intense gaze set on my fluttering eyes. At last I felt his bush pressed against my clenching ass. He lingered for just a moment, every throb of his member sending shivers through my body. He leaned in and whispered, “You feeling good, baby?”
I could only moan a bit in response. Feeling his weight bear down on me and his cock in my ass left no room for words. He shoved his pit in my face and I instinctively took a deep huff. Any resistance and tension left in my body released. I felt filled by him, just a vessel for his use. I was about to stick out my tongue when he pulled back and repositioned himself. He held my shoulders as he began moving his hips.
As he slowly began to fuck me, I felt him reach new depths within myself.
“There you go, much better. Let yourself just float”
I couldn’t resist him even if I wanted to. His cock methodically jackhammering my hole had my body riding wave after wave of pleasure. Then, I felt him tense up a bit as his cock swelled just a bit more telling me what was to come. He buried it deep as a pressure built within myself. A few more thrust from him and I shot my load over his furry chest. My mind could no longer handle it. I slipped off into a void of pure bliss, as this stranger collapsed on top of me, feeling his damp fur against my body and filling my senses once again with his musk.
I woke up the next day back in my own bedroom. No one else around. No signs of trouble. No clue how I got back. If the whole experience hadn’t been so vivid, I would have thought I dreamt the whole thing. But as I rolled myself out of bed and into the bathroom, one change became very clear.
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Seemingly overnight I had lost my smooth skin and dirty blonde curls. In its place was hair. Thick, dark, course hair. It covered my chest, my arms, my back, even my crotch. I was shocked but, also, something else began to tickle at my brain. I took off my tank to get a better look at the forest. I flexed my muscles and admired the way it coated my chest and seemed to exaggerate its size. I hit a double bicep pose and smelled a familiar scent. The scent of sweat and heat and masculinity. My mind flooded with images of that night as my cock stood at attention. I shoved my face into my own pit as I bagan jacking off in front of the mirror, admiring my new body. It felt strange but satisfying, watching this stranger in the mirror mimic my every move as I lusted for him. I didn’t realize how far I had gone until I saw the stream hitting the mirror. It was hot, but something still didn’t feel right. As I cleaned up the restroom, I picked up my razor and considered cleaning myself up a bit. But as I lifted it to my face, I noticed my newly hairy pits. Exposing them, the scent of last night invaded my mind again and I couldn’t follow through. I finished getting dressed and I left for the day. With a busy schedule, maybe I could get some answers tomorrow. I think that was the last chance I had to do something, divert from the path laid out for me. But looking back, I don’t know if I would have changed a thing.
No day was as sharp a change as the first, but each morning as I looked myself in the mirror, something was a bit different. Maybe it was the sharpness of my jaw. Or were my pecs always this swoll? One week I swore my feet were growing larger. There is no way that they always slapped the ground like that. But my shoes always fit perfectly. Heck I may even need a new pair soon. My joggers were beat up as hell and reeked when I took them off after my Saturday runs. But soon it was the days that I couldn’t find anything that looked different that began to worry me most. Had I always thought so much about the bodies of the men around me? Did people always talk so fast? But as life slipped back into routine. Soon I began to question myself. Why had I worried so much about any changes? Things never actually seemed out of place, and I worked out hard to get these gains. I had been going to the gym for years and had spent tears perfecting my splits. After about two months. I stopped worrying at all. Until finally, one day I woke up and looked myself in the mirror, I saw the same man who greeted me for years.
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I was a sweaty gym rat. Always had been. Always would be. I took a deep huff of my own funk, and rubbed my muscles. But everything fell into place, something felt missing. I shouldn’t have to keep this godly body and musk to myself. For the first time in a while, I hopped onto the apps and started scanning through. God, all these old matches were terrible. Why did I used to have such a thing for those muscled-up college boys? They couldn’t grow a beard if their lives depended on it. Besides, I think I wanted someone a little more…submissive. Scrolling through, my eyes caught on this young 20-something twink. Something about him reminded me of someone…someone I used to know. His lithe body, tight curls, and skimpy clothes told me he was a bottom before I clicked on his profile. A few messages back and forth, and he was on his way.
He walked in the door and it was all I could do to contain myself. Something deep within me wanted my seed deep in his ass. I needed him to worship me. I wanted him to become just like me. I had no patience as my body acted on instinct. I stripped my shirt and calmly approached, placing my hand against the wall behind him. As my masculinity and musk washed over the twink, I watched as his eyes fluttered a bit and knew his mind was submitting.
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“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked plainly.
“Ye-yes, sir.”
I grinned as I understood fully now just what had happened to me, and the power I held. But watching this twink practically trembling in front of me, maybe I was even better than my captor had been.
I gave him a quick kiss as I lead him to my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to make another man in my image.
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f1byjessie · 3 months
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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.
love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.
( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )
━━ part seven.
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yourusername had to take these pictures myself bc apparently angles are “too hard”
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landonorris maybe you should’ve just asked me 🙄
↳ yourusername as much as i love your results you turn what should be a quick 5 mins into a 20 min photoshoot
↳ landonorris yes and?? i’m not seeing what the downside is 🤨
user HOW MANY LETTERS IN SARGEANT???
user literally who needs boys when girls like y/n exist
↳ user REAL
logansargeant i know about angles
↳ yourusername yes logie and your future girlfriends will thank me for it 🫶
user that dress is stunning and i want it but i know it costs more than a month’s worth of my pay 🥲🥲🥲
user ferrari spotted = y/n for ferrari 2024
↳ user get that girl in a formula car and leT HER DRIVE
oscarpiastri in my defense your heels make you as tall as me 🫤
↳ yourusername methinks it’s just bc you only know how to take one type of picture and it’s the awkward dad kind 🫤
user OSCAR??? HAS OUR HUSBAND RETURNED FROM THE WAR???
↳ user mama y papa
user OP81 IS BACK IN THESE COMMENTS WAR IS OVER
With Oscar by your side, time passes quickly. You don’t bring up that the first night you shared a bed, you’d woken up in the morning with his arm wrapped around your waist and his breath tickling the back of your neck, and you certainly don’t mention that he’d practically whined in his sleep when you’d slipped out of his grasp. It doesn’t happen again, but there’s a part of you hoping that it does.
The days blend together into a haze of happiness, laughter, and exploring the beauty of Monaco. Lando shows you the best spots— a garden just off the Monte Carlo marina, a famous nightclub that takes your breath away, and a small cafe at the edge of the city that overlooks it all.
Things are good, great even, but you can’t help but feel like there’s still some distance between you and Oscar despite his reassurance that everything is fine.
When New Year’s Eve— and subsequently your birthday— arrives, you’re awoken to a flurry of texts. Your parents have both sent sweet messages wishing you the best, Sophia has left a voice message with sounds of traffic in the background telling you she’s planning to get wasted and if you do too then you can just pretend you’re wasted together, and Dalton has made a group chat with you and Logan and has spammed you both with pictures of yourselves from across the years.
Oscar’s already gone, and his side of the bed is cold, so you take your time responding to them all and then shoot off a message of your own to Logan before getting up. It’s your first time not celebrating with your brother, and it feels strange knowing that you won’t get to see him today, but you’re excited nonetheless for the plans Lando and the other drivers in Monaco have organized for New Year’s Eve.
The day passes by lazily. Lando and Oscar both greet you with birthday wishes when you make your way down to the living room and then they present to you a feast for breakfast, which you realize is the reason Oscar was awake so much earlier than you. It’s the best breakfast you’ve ever had, mostly because they make fools of themselves retelling how many times they had to scrap the failed waffles until they got it right. You spend lunch at a place close by, joined by Alex and Lily who have flown in for the New Year, and then the rest of the afternoon you wait around at Lando’s place passing the time watching the boys play games on the TV and helping either of them cheat when asked.
You’re happy.
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logansargeant people say twins are like built-in best friends, and if that’s the case then i’m glad i got you as mine. i can’t imagine having anyone else stick by my side throughout all the crazy and wild shit we’ve been through in our lives. it feels like just yesterday we were 13 and acting as each other's lifelines in a place we barely knew, and now we’re 23 and somehow doing the same thing. you’re my best friend forever.
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yourusername love you to the moon and back again logie 🫶 (but omg these pictures are so OLD)
↳ logansargeant love you to the stars and beyond 🫶 (yea well when else am i gonna post them?)
user i thought the only reason i’d be crying today is bc i don’t have a nye kiss but here we are aND THE BABY HANDS OMG
user I CAN’T DO THIS 😭😭😭
user sobbing over a birthday post was not on my 2023 bingo but i’ll be sure to add it to 2024 if this is gonna be a yearly thing
↳ user birthdays are a yearly thing so yea 💀
user i can’t stop thinking about the fact that each other was all they had when logan pursued racing in europe and now logan’s made it to f1 and they’re still all they have 😭
↳ user the sargeant twins are genuinely gonna be the death of me one of these days
user Y/N HAS BEEN THERE FOR HIM SINCE THE BEGINNING OMG
williamsracing Happiest of birthdays to Y/N! We look forward to seeing you out on the paddock more in 2024, and can’t wait to see what the new year has in store for you! 💙
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yourusername 23 + 23 = 46. 4 + 6 = 10. 10 - 2 = 8 and that’s what we’ve done for the last 23 years 😎 but real talk, i’m genuinely so honored to get to be your sister, and to share so much with you. when you win i share that joy, and when you lose i share that grief, and even though we’re an ocean away, i’m with you today and always for the rest of our lives. you’re my best friend, and even if i don’t have anything or anyone else, i know i have you and that makes me the luckiest girl in the world ❤️.
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user ATE ATE ATE
logansargeant went through all the stages of grief as i read that caption
↳ yourusername i do try
↳ logansargeant i know
user HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARGEANT TWINS
user these pictures of logan are SENDING ME
↳ user y/n always feeds the ppl the low qual pics
alex_albon adding these to my folder of embarrassing pictures to blackmail logan with
↳ yourusername happy doing business with you sir 🤝
user SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING
user my mental health is dependent on the friendship between y/n and logan and it is STRUGGLING today lads
user can’t wait to see more of them in 2024!!
Lando finds you as you’re getting ready, putting the final touches on your makeup. He enters when you tell him to, and then leans against the bathroom counter for a moment just staring at you before you quirk an eyebrow at him.
“How are things going between you and Oscar?”
You lower the mascara wand and shrug, “I mean, it’s good.”
“But?” He prompts.
“But I feel like he’s still… being weird?” You slip the wand back into the mascara tube and then tuck it back into your bag. “I don’t know. Maybe we were a bit too realistic with the whole ‘making him jealous’ thing, and now he believes you’ve stuck your claim and he’s distancing himself because he doesn’t want to step on your toes or something.”
Lando snorts, “As if. I made him share a room with you, how does that in any way imply that I’m trying to stake my claim on you?”
You run a hand through your hair because you can’t run it down your face without ruining your freshly done makeup, and heave a sigh. “Then maybe he just isn’t actually interested in me at all, and I was right about him wanting to pretend the kiss never happened.”
He hums, then nods once, twice, a third time, and finally leaves the bathroom without another word.
When you finally follow him down, a number of people have already arrived— Alex and Lily are among them, and you greet them again with smiles and hugs. You’re introduced to Max Fewtrell, one of Lando’s close friends, and then you’re dragged away by Lily to hang out in the corner of the living room as the house begins to fill with current and former drivers alike.
“It’s a sausage fest,” she jokes, and you laugh beside her.
You both make conversation for a while, catching up on her and Alex’s holiday spent in California with her family and then talking about your own in Florida with yours. She asks how Logan’s doing, and you tell her that he’s well, but he’s really motivated and wants the chance to prove himself in the 2024 season already.
“I think the online discourse about whether or not he deserved a seat got to him a bit,” you admit. “But I know he can show them that there’s a reason he was chosen.”
Lily nods. “Me and Alex have faith in him too. It was his rookie year and he was in a Williams of all things. Like you said, there was a reason he was chosen, he just needs the opportunity to show the world that.”
You jump from topic to topic for a little while longer, until you excuse yourself to go find where Lando and Oscar have run off to. The guests have all arrived from the looks of it, and while a number of them all know each other already and have split off into groups to stay entertained, you’re not sure exactly how you’re meant to handle things on your own when it isn’t even your house—
“I mean, it’s fine, yeah? It’s just awkward with her, I guess.” You pause. The door to you and Oscar’s shared room is ajar and Oscar’s voice is just barely audible over the sound of music and chatter filtering up from downstairs.
“Why d’you say that? It’s just Y/N.” Lando’s voice follows.
You press yourself up against the wall, heart pounding in your chest at the sound of your name. You can’t see anything, and that almost makes it worse— imagining what their faces look like as they talk about you.
“Just that it’s weird sleeping next to her, and I feel like I’m always having to walk on glass around her. I’m trying to make things normal again, but I don’t think I can. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep being friends with her. How can I look her in the face, knowing what happened?”
You can physically feel the dread settle into your stomach. Your heart clenches painfully in your chest and it’s like your blood has turned to ice in your veins. Your face feels warm, but the rest of your body feels cold, and suddenly it’s as though your ribcage has become too small for your lungs.
As quietly as you can, you scurry away from the door, across the distance of the hallway, and then down the stairs. Instead of turning into the living room where everyone else has gathered, their laughter and conversations a jumbled bubble of noise that makes your chest feel even tighter, you leave through the front door just as you feel tears begin to fall.
It’s worrying how frequently this has become an occurrence for you— crying because of Oscar.
━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries @spacegirlstuff @myxticmoon @landosgirlxoxo @k-pevensie28 @moonypixel
━━ a/n: ahhhh i'm sorry i cannot let them be happy!! also, wrote this really fast and struggled a bit because i genuinely couldn't decide if it was just too fast paced or not, so i apologize if it seems rushed or if there are any mistakes editing wise that i missed!
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endotwrites · 3 months
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will you do some hcs of simon with his civilian pregnant wife??🥺♥️
ofccc 💋
headcanons of simon with his pregnant wife !
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cw: afab reader, mention of sex
✧ every time you get up to do anything, he’s hot on your tail “just in case” something happens
✧ if simon is on base during your pregnancy, he tries to squeeze in as many calls a day as possible
✧ when you send simon on a general house shop (surface wipes, toilet paper etc.), he’ll send a picture of a buggy with “?” as the caption… your response is “just the stuff on the list, honey :)” which he is not pleased with
✧ simon is extra fragile in bed! sexual and just cuddling. he tries to put as little weight as possible when wrapping an arm around you - he basically insists that you lay on him or sit between his legs so you can still be close to him
✧ before each night ends, simon has built a mini routine of kissing your lips, then your wedding ring and then your stomach just to roll over and snore so loudly it keeps you up #duplicityofman
✧ simon is silently praying for twins so there’s even more of you to love
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peachdues · 3 months
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Despite the fact he has his cock in you — whether it’s your cunt or your mouth — Obanai Iguro does not kiss you.
When it comes to Obanai, kissing is a far bigger — and far scarier — thing than fucking you. Sex is within his comfort zone — he can turn you around, press you against the bed or a tree, and still keep himself hidden behind the wall he’s built out of bandages and self-loathing. Even when he’s facing you, Obanai can bury his face against your neck, cradle his groans and soft pants into the hollow of your throat, all while you twist your fingers harder into his hair and lock your legs tighter around his waist.
But curiosity is a vice even he cannot evade forever, and he finds himself imagining what it would be like to feel your skin beneath his lips.
Would you feel as soft against his mouth as you are in his hands? As warm? Would you still gasp and sigh the way you do when he drags his fingers over the twin swells of your breasts, or when they dip below the waistband of your trousers?
And your lips — how would they feel moving against his? Obanai already finds it hard to form coherent thoughts when they’re pressed against his ear, murmuring sweet, sinful promises that make his blood heat; he can’t imagine what it must be like to taste the honey coating your lips for himself, to feel your tongue slip into his mouth and dance languidly with his as he drinks in your sighs and moans like a man parched.
A weaker, more indulgent part of him longs to know if you could stand to bear witness to the sins of his clan, forever marked on his face, and not balk. He yearns to know whether you would see that he is desperate to atone for the stains left by a family corrupted by greed, that he knows it is his burden, and his alone to shoulder and that he does so without thought or hesitation. To know, in spite of it all, you would still want him, even though he knows that by desiring you, he only keeps alive the history of selfishness and avarice of which he’s so desperate to be absolved.
But regardless how powerful his thirst for the knowledge of your lips is, however, Obanai’s self-restraint — self-hatred — is stronger, and he can’t find it within himself to find out the truth. Not when he’s so unworthy; not when he only has decades to repent for generations of ravenous greed.
And so, Obanai Iguro does not kiss you; but God, does he want to.
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rosie-writings · 27 days
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For Just a Moment I'm Whole Again
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Request: anon—ghost!Reader falls in love with Colby
Summary: ghost!Reader finds out that her twin flame is Colby who was born decades after she died, and upon meeting him for the first time, she needs his help to usher her on to the afterlife to be free from the purgatory she roams.
Warnings: ghost!Reader x Colby smut, Age Gap, Bittersweetness, light Angst, Fluff, and Twin Flame relationship
Words: 6.6k
No Y/N Use
Title from 'Calcutta' by Sleep Token
A/N: Technically, Reader is 19 while Colby is 27, however she died nearly thirty years before he was born, so who's older?
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I stopped crying about it a few years ago.
Maybe a decade or two, I wasn’t quite sure. It’s not that I was upset about how I died, I almost forgot the pain of it all, I was upset because out of everywhere I could have died, it was in a house. 
A lonely house.
After I died, apparently my friends were too traumatized to keep the house, so they sold it. I tried to get their attention. Everyday I tried to convince them that purgatory was real and they forced me into it by leaving. What was I supposed to do alone in a house that no one wanted to buy because a death occurred?
When I found out that they also rumored to their realtor that it was haunted, I wanted to slap the lives out of them. Of course it was haunted; that was your best friend trying to get you to look at me for once before I could never see you again—
I cried for years.
No one bought the house.
I slept in the king sized bed in the room upstairs alone and cold.
There was a hotspot in the middle of the house. 
The house was built upon a particular mineral that ushered in traveling ghosts, and the convenient vortex in the center of it aided their arrival. Occasionally I met other ghosts and other inhuman beings that couldn’t care less about me. They probably had millennia of experience navigating the afterlife’s purgatory on earth while I was only a couple decades old.
I think I died in 1971. I couldn’t remember. 
The day this house was bought, I thought I was saved.
Instead, major renovations took place. They ripped the nostalgic wallpapers off the walls and tore out the carpets that my human and ghostly feet were all too familiar with.
”How about you chose an actually appealing pint this time, motherfucker,” I spat at the contractor who walked right through me in the main hallway upstairs. I rolled my eyes and followed him into the primary suite.
Today was the day they renovated my bedroom.
”I wonder how many years it’s been; you look fucking weird. Do all men have that silly ass haircut or something now?” I asked as I sat on top of the ladder in the middle of the room. “Thanks so much for bringing your tool batteries in here. You don’t need those do you?” I felt their powerful buzzing. I felt the electricity waving through the room and I sucked it all up.
With every minute that passed, I felt stronger and stronger, until.
”Oops—“ I sighed in boredom as I knocked a paint can off the top of the ladder.
The worker whirled around with wide eyes and basically looked at me in mine, but he saw through me. I rolled my eyes again.
“You humans are all the fucking same. God, I was so damn embarrassing as a human. Can’t you at least try to talk to me? I’m so fucking—“
His co-worker called his name and walked in the room.
”What the fuck have you done?” The second shouted. White paint pooled on the concrete below me.
”At least you didn’t put floor in yet—“
”It just-It just fell! I didn’t even touch it! I put it up there like 20 minutes ago and-and it just fell!” The second worker grumbled and picked up the emptying can.
”They said there was some poltergeist activity in this house which is why it took fucking 50 years for it to be sold again.”
50 years?
My lack of heart nearly fell through the floor. 
I sat on the ladder looking through them this time. 50 years? I was stuck here for 50 years with nothing to do? No one to talk to? I wanted to cry. Ghost cry sessions weren’t as satisfying as human cry sessions.
I had to get out of here.
I had to—
I stole the energy from all their equipment, but it was still not enough. Even with the electromagnetic energy pulsing through my spirit, the hotspot wouldn’t take me. 
“Come on,” I grumbled. I looked through the vortex and saw spirals and spirals of unveiled spirits traveled through this purgatory called earth, and yet none would grab on to me. What was beyond? “Please! Take me! Get me out of here!” 
I broke down crying again. 
This was the biggest chance I had in order to leave and not even it was enough.
I curled up in the middle of the floor there and cried until I fell asleep.
Later, when the sun was high in the sky and the house was vacant, I woke up. 
As I stood, I appeared in the master bedroom so I could sleep in the bed—
“What the fuck?” I asked to nothing.
The walls were white, the flooring was finished with deep warm floorboards, and the bed frame was a plush cream color with a creamy duvet. 
“They did this fast. I wonder how long I was asleep for.” There was a dresser, two nightstands, and a desk that all matched in a deep brown, practically black, wood finish. “We go 50 years in the future just to be completely devoid of all color. Jesus fuck.” I curled up in the bed regardless. “Oh my god,” I moaned loudly. “Actually, I take all that back. I will give up any color in my life to feel this mattress if only for a second. This is how technology should be used, oh my god…” 
I don’t remember finishing my sentence, I fell unconscious again.
I woke up to the sound of voices. 
I shot to the foyer in a blink of an eye and I saw a family. A mom, a dad, three kids, and a dog, and I nearly cried on sight.
”Hello! Oh my god, yes thank everything good and mighty. You bought this house? I’m not alone anymore!” The dad walked through me. “I’m so excited—Oh my god your dog is so cute!” I fell to my knees in front of the Husky and it howled a talking fit at me, and when I raised my hand to pet it, it ran away from me so fast that it slid across the floor on its nails. “I’m not that scary, I don’t think,” I sighed and stood up again.
There was a girl, probably fifteen or sixteen, who walked right past me with something in her hands.
”Oh what’s that?” I asked as I followed her. The rectangle in her hand illuminated back at her like a TV screen and her thumbs furiously typed on some kind of keyless keyboard. “Holy shit! Is that one of those phones that all the futuristic movies talked about? We have them in the real world now?” I nearly screamed. I plopped into a vacant barstool next to her. “I would have loved that,” I grumbled. I devised a plan to steal it from her in her sleep and play with it all night. 
I watched as she turned it on again.
”A passcode?” I questioned and I was ready to memorize it, but suddenly a blue light scanned down her face and it unlocked by itself. “Now that’s—“ I got out of my seat and backed up from her. “That’s weird. Can that detect ghosts?” 
“Come on! Let’s go in the pool!” I gasped when the younger boy ran right through me and out the backdoor. I smiled when he cannon balled in the pool out back. 
“Lukas! It is 40 degrees outside, get your ass in the house now!” His mother screamed, and I laughed.
“Oh yeah, they put so many cool pool toys in the chest out there,” I told him as I stepped foot outside. “You would love them in the summer though. It’s pretty cold—“
I must have walked too far out of the house, because in a blink of an eye, I teleported back in the middle of the vortex.
”God help me,” I sighed, and I started to devise my game plan to get into that girl’s device in the night.
It wasn’t easy. 
The moon was high in the sky, and I walked in the girl’s bedroom cautiously. Not like she could see me, but I could make noises and I didn’t want to scare her.
Her phone lay on the table next to her bed with a cord coming from it, and she slept soundlessly next to it. I picked it up. 
It illuminated to life and I gasped. I read the time and date.
2:35am, December 20, 2021
”Oh.. my god…” I whispered slowly.
2021? That wasn’t a real year. It had been 50 years that I was—
How was I going to get out of here? I needed out. First I needed this girl’s device. I grabbed it, and when it scanned my face, it said it was the incorrect Face ID.
I pointed it at the girl cautiously, and after a few recalculating aims, it unlocked. I brought it back to me and saw so many colors I didn’t know which to tap first. The entire screen responded to my touch.
I flicked through the squares on the screen and with each one, I read more and more paragraphs about people. It looked like the news or something. I couldn’t believe how amazing this device was at taking photos. 
“I don’t understand,” I whispered. The squares where it seemed like I could communicate with other people intimidated me; I didn't understand who I was talking to so I tried to get out of it and go back to the original place where all the squares were. I accidentally swiped and it moved the screen and I tapped out of it. That was how you got out of it, got it.
I found another app that was red. I clicked it. This time photos with short captions were the only things I scrolled through. After a second, I clicked one to make it larger, but instead, it brought me to another screen and a video began playing.
The audio was so loud and clear, I gasped and tried to figure out how to silence it. The girl disturbed next to me. The button I clicked turned the volume down.
A video played of the same photo I clicked on—
Those weren’t photos, they must have been paused videos or something. I watched and listened and it was actually entertaining. After the video ended, I clicked another.
And then another.
And before I knew it, the sun peeked over the horizon. The time read 7:30am. I had been watching these videos for five hours. 
I put the phone down and walked out of the room. 
I would have loved 2021.
I did it again the next night.
I sat there on the floor against the nightstand and watched more videos. 
Video after video, I started to remember the names of the people who posted them. I didn’t remember the rabbit trail I went down; recommended video after recommended video led me to one that made me stop my jumping around.
It was a video of two idiotic boys messing around in a haunted house.
Now, I never was into haunted or spooky things when I was alive, and being dead now, I would say that I had a pretty large say in and experience in what these boneheads talked about. 
I didn’t expect them to be so respectful. And considerate, too.
I watched as they talked to spirits in the house, and it was startling to watch humans interact with us spirits from their perspective. I forgot that that was all they saw.
I forgot how limited I was when I was trapped in my human skin.
How silly they were; it didn’t matter that they would have been seven years older than I was. Most of the people were children on YouTube, and they were the worst of them. 
Sam and Colby certainly made me laugh, and their means of communicating with ghosts even more so. 
There were some videos that scared me.
I liked the two a lot, and I didn’t want them to get hurt or manipulated by demonic forces. I had seen demonic forces firsthand, and humans were stupid enough to summon them. If I was afraid of them, humans definitely should have been.
The way they assumed everything was as sinister as they did made me laugh the most because the majority of spirits communicated with them were teasing them and cracking jokes. The boys took everything too seriously, but that was why they were so good.
They cared.
But one of them, Colby, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of. It was like I knew him. Warmth spread through me, and for the first time since I died, I was overcome with the need to leave. The pull teased me, beckoned me. 
I was over forty years older than him; I would have never met him, so how did I know him? 
Why did I need him?
I needed someone who cared about me like they did for spirits. I needed a human who cared to come in and help me. Certainly there were other humans out there who could help me like Sam and Colby, but they definitely weren’t as loud or had as much faith as they did in their capabilities. 
I would be lying if I said I didn’t cry when that family left the house two days later. It wasn’t because I would be lonely again but because I couldn’t drown myself in Sam and Colby’s videos. 
Or in Colby’s appearance and voice.
Hopefully someone else would stay for a week and I could use their phones to watch YouTube again.
Two weeks later, the house was booked again.
I finally learned that the house I was trapped in was turned into something called an AirBnb and I supposed that it was a house rented like a hotel. 
The same routine spun into effect.
A new visitor spent the week here, I drained their batteries in everything they brought, I drowned myself in YouTube (to be honest, I drowned myself in the force that was Colby’s voice), and spent endless time spinning around the house in boredom wondering when the human chosen to save me would come.
They would come and help one day, I knew it.
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The front door opened. 
I was out of the bed in a flash and appeared in the foyer to see the new visitors. Two men walked in the house, and I wondered what on earth they were up to for arriving near two in the morning. 
It was three years after I first learned what YouTube and social media was. I was ingrained in the politics, culture, society, and hyper-communicative world that was 2024. 
I toed the fence. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to stay here and live as a free spirit in 2024 forever or be taken into the next spiritual realm. I knew I couldn’t stay forever, and with every year that passed, I felt the fabrics of my spirit being taken away into nothing. 
I needed help.
When I came spirit to face with the two new visiting men, my entire world flipped upside down.
I knew them.
They were the ones with the YouTube channel. 
They were—
”I know we said we would do some stuff before we go to sleep, but I literally—“
”No, I know,” the other sighed. “I’m so tired too. We got here a lot later than we planned.”
”We should just sleep then wake up a bit earlier than we planned to have more time to do what we couldn’t now.” The other nodded lazily.
”Yeah, we can do that.”
”Night, Colby,” said the blond one as he walked up the stairs.
”Night, Sam,” said the one I stood next to in between the foyer and the living room.
If I had a heart, it would have pumped loudly in my ears, and if I had a tongue, it would have dried up. Ever so slowly, I turned and looked at Colby as he pulled things from the backpack he had placed on the couch. His back faced me. 
And I couldn’t control myself, the intrusive thoughts won. I wondered what he would do if I—
At the sound of his water bottle crashing into the hardwood floor, Colby whirled around with wide eyes and watched as it rolled to a stop.
“What the fuck?” He whispered. I gasped when he walked through me. I turned and watched as he picked it up and placed it back on the table. He watched it.
With a smile, I didn’t take my gaze off his face as I knocked it back onto the floor. He took two steps back. 
That was when the realization dawned on me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. When I felt him, when I was near him, it made sense. The pieces shoved together painfully.
“Uh… Sam?” Colby called. 
“What?” He called cautiously as he came from his room. “What’s wrong?”
”I—I swear to god, this water bottle fell off the table deliberately. Like someone knocked it over, twice.”
”Really?” He asked hesitantly when his feet hit his floor. At this point, they both stood in front of me and I crossed my arms in boredom. I was nearly as tall as the two; they were a lot smaller in person.
I was tall for a girl; almost five foot nine.
He placed the water bottle back down.
I stared at it. Humans were so dumb. I watched their anticipation knowing full well I wouldn’t satisfy them. 
“What is happening, I swore it happened and it’s not now which means it’s not like the table is slanted or something.”
”That’s weird,” Sam said. 
“You can go back to bed, sorry—“
”No, you’re fine, stupid,” Sam laughed as he went back.
Of course when he was halfway up the stairs with his back turned I yanked it off the table. Colby already left to the couch though, and so when Sam turned around quickly, he froze when he realized Colby was completely out of reach.
”See? I told you!” Colby cried.
”Oh shit… Yeah I have no idea how to explain that.”
”Wanna get a rem pod and the camera or something?” Colby asked.
“Maybe if something else happens.”
”Okay, okay,” Colby said, and I watched in surprise when Sam walked back to his room. They must have been tired then.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t mess with Colby until he went to sleep.
”You guys are idiots,” I said as if I expected a response. “Are you actually staying up or are you—oh,” I gasped when he turned around and walked through me before I could react. He picked up his bag and walked up the stairs. I sighed. 
“That answers that.”
I peeked around the door. Colby stood in his room. I watched as he situated the things from his backpack. Those were some fancy cameras, small ones for that matter, and it looked like he charged the batteries. My eyes couldn’t pull from his skin though. He only wore his black jeans.
He turned towards me and I watched as he walked to the desk in his room. I intently focused on his face and his tattoos. He was so pretty. But he looked so different. I walked into the room and stood at the desk with him.
”What are these?” I asked and I touched the devices on the desk. Then, I gasped as his hand went through mine. My hand paused and I tried to feel the warmth. What would have been my hand burned with warmth, and I didn’t pull it away. 
Colby froze in his place and stared at his hand. It burned cold.
But then he turned from the table and went back to the bed.
Now, never once in my life have I snooped. I’ve never pried, intruded, or watched anyone when they didn’t think they could be perceived. But I couldn’t leave his room. I froze in my place as I watched when he pulled his pants off. I couldn’t focus on anything else except his body. The way he moved, settled in the room, got in the bed, and plugged his phone in; every decision and every thought process was so painfully human.
I liked him a lot. Too much.
I wanted him to know I was here too. 
The last time I tried to communicate with humans was with my best friends after the accident happened. After, their realtor was a bitch. There was a medium who was more so a dumbass who came to communicate with me. I scared her, and perhaps that went wrong. That might have been why it took so long for this place to be renovated. 
I needed to talk to Colby. I wanted him.
I never wanted anyone as badly as I wanted him.
I stood in front of the desk where the devices were strewn about, and as he read his phone, I touched one of the devices. 
I recognized one. It was a radio of sorts. One of the mediums who tried to communicate with me used it. Perhaps they were here to try to talk to me anyway.
I turned the spirit box on.
Immediately, Colby sat straight up in his bed. His phone was forgotten on the sheets. I laughed and watched as his confused eyes scanned the room.
”Hello,” I laughed. Then I used energy and found the word on a channel—
Hello
Colby looked around the room.
”Um, hi?” He said.
If I had a body, I was pretty sure the feeling I had was akin to my heart falling out of my ass.
“I know who you are, you publish on YouTube, right?”
I know you
Colby’s face turned with distrust. 
“What—Are there actually spirits in this house?” He asked. I rolled my eyes.
”Obviously. You’re so dumb. I thought you know how to talk to us—
Duh…
He scoffed and his shock turned into an amused expression.
”What’s your na—“
Don’t be stupid
He stopped talking and his eyes widened.
”How do you know me? I’ve never been here.”
”You literally have 11 million people watching you on YouTube, don’t be silly,” I sighed.
You make videos
”You’re seen my—“ He gasped and thought for a moment. “How old are you? How long have you been here?”
For a long time
”I’m supposed to be nineteen,” I sighed.
Nineteen
”Nineteen—Holy shit wait, someone—the owners said a nineteen year old died here in the 70s—“
”That was totally me.”
Me
Colby looked at the spirit box on the table and I smiled.
“Yeah,” he gasped nervously. “Are you the only spirit in the house?”
”Only one that lives here, anyway,” I scoffed.
Only one
”I’m sorry you’re alone.” I froze. 
“What did you say?” I asked quietly, timidly. Silence. It defeated me. 
It had been over 50 years since the accident and in all that time, no one apologized.
No one said sorry about my death or that I was alone. Not a single person had the empathy. Colby stared back at the spirit box. His eyes fell from it. He looked around the room in thought.
Suddenly, the urge ever too heavy came over me. 
I glided straight over to him and I sat on the bed.
He shot up with his eyes wide. 
If I had eyes, he would have looked right into them.
”Are-Are you on the bed with me?”
”Yes,” I confidently said and tried to use all my energy to tell the spirit box—
Yes… On this bed…
”Holy shit,” Colby whispered. 
I felt the way his heart skipped.
The way his skin lit on fire.
I moved forward, and when I did, his skin fell cold.
”Did-Did you just touch me?” 
“I’m on top of you.”
And it was true. I straddled him. I held his face in my lack of hands, and the warmth coursed through me like an electrical current. I needed him. He tethered me back into reality; the human world. That urge and that desperation to move onto the spirit realm died the moment I touched him.
Top
”You’re on me?” He rested his weight on his hands behind him. When he pushed his hips forward, a gasp left me because I felt the pressure. 
Familiarity.
“I remember you, Colby. I know you, we knew each other—‘
Colby
”Why did you say my—“
I know you
“You know—oh shit,” he gasped. My vision hazed. My perception of my surroundings grew blurry as if I was about to sleep.
Heat coursed my body, and I held onto him to keep from falling asleep.
”You feel really good,” I gasped. I didn’t think about this.
We knew each other
“What?” He gasped as his body went rigid. Sexual things were so far from me. I figured that when I moved onto the spirit realm, more doors to explore sexuality would open. I never came across another human I viewed as desirable like him. 
I never came across a human or spirit that felt as familiar as he was.
I knew he already had two female ghosts who liked him and messed around with him.
Good
”What’s good?” He gasped again. This time, it sounded like he was more breathless than anything.
”You.”
You
”Is that you making me feel like this? Are you touching me?” I moaned when I thrusted against him over and over. “Holy fuck—I just got so… What am I even doing?” Colby sighed more so to himself and then he laid himself back down against the bed. I gasped when he moved through me. 
I looked down at him as his forearm rested across his forehead. His face was flushed and eyes were closed in thought.
I couldn’t deny the pressure under me. I knew he was painfully hard under me, but I had no intention of leaving or letting him do it himself. I looked down and couldn’t look away from his body. It was on fire, and the pressure in his underwear grew and grew.
I wish I could feel him for real with my hands and my skin. 
“Holy fuck,” he moaned this time, and I moaned as well. He sounded so good like this. “I feel so crazy. Please tell me this is you doing this to me and not me—“
”I’m doing it. I’m touching you, Colby. Let me touch you.” Colby moaned again and again as I thrusted against him. 
It’s me
His eyes shot open again.
Let me touch you
“Fuck, okay—holy shit—okay you’re-you’re actually real.”
”Yes,” I laughed. “I want to see you feel good.” 
“If you’re actually real, get off of me and make me stop feeling like this—“
I was on the other side of the room in an instant. Colby sat up with a flushed face. 
“What the fuck,” he whispered. I felt as the arousal in his body diminished. “And…” He mumbled hesitantly. “And if you’re real, get on top of me. Turn me on again.”
I blinked and I straddled Colby’s lap. 
“Holy fucking—ugh.” And his head tossed into the pillow and eyes rolled back.
”Fuck,” I gasped as I watched him throw his arm across his mouth to conceal his moans.
Immediately, his arousal built again, and I thrusted against him over and over.
”You’re making me—Oh my god, don’t stop please,” Colby gasped. 
You feel good
”Fuck,” he gasped.
He looked up at me and I swore he saw me. He didn't look through me, and I wished I could touch him.
Kiss him.
”You’re going to make me come.”
“Oh my god yeah, I want to see you come,” I mumbled. I would resurrect myself from the dead just to kill myself again if he knew I said that so I tried to hold in the energy. I didn’t want the music box to pick up on anything.
I tried to pull his underwear down. It was too difficult, too heavy. I was too tired. My gaze flashed around the room.
His phone. 
I focused my energy on his phone and took the energy from it. The strength boiled and boiled in my being until I opened my eyes and watched as the waistband of it ever so slightly pulled back.
”Oh my fucking god—“ Colby gasped, and I cried out in surprise when he sat up straight and kicked himself away from me. “You-You fucking pulled—Are you trying to take my underwear off? Oh my god—You’re fucking real. You really are—“
“Colby it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you I want to make you feel good—“
Don’t be scared
”What?” He gasped and whirled his gaze to the spirit box.
Make you feel good
“I’m—“ he paused. He looked around the room. “I’m not scared. I can’t believe you’re communicating so well with me.”
”I’m taking power from your phone,” I said towards the spirit box.
This cell phone
Colby looked back to the spirit box.
”My phone?”
Using energy
”Oh, you’re taking the energy from my phone? Let me plug it in so you can take as much as you want—“
Yes
”Okay—“ He groaned as he leaned over and plugged it in. He left it on the table next to the bed. I didn’t give him another second to say a sentence. I pushed down against him and he drew in an uneven breath. “I can’t believe I can feel you.”
”Can you feel this?” I grinded down on him, and his arm caught another moan behind his mouth.
“Holy shit—I think I felt-I felt that. I’m so—oh my god!” I pulled at his underwear again, and this time, I pulled it halfway down. “I’m so…” He sighed into a moan, and I felt the way heat traveled down his body. His temperature rose, and I couldn’t look away. Not a second passed that I didn’t utterly consume the image of his real life human body under me.
I pushed again and again, and before his hand could reach into his underwear, he gasped a rather louder moan and spilled in the fabric. 
I quickly tried to pull it back again, and this time, his underwear pulled halfway off. 
“Oh my god—“ I gasped as I watched the rest of his fluids cover his stomach.
”You just fucking—You actually took them off,” he gasped breathlessly as he gathered himself together after his orgasm.
Pleasure washed through me as well, but it wasn’t as tangible as it used to be when I was alive. I was on fire, and I wanted more, anything more, but it was impossible here.
Then the tug.
I wanted to move on.
It was as if this window of pleasure piqued my interest, and I knew that if I moved onto the spiritual realm, I could live again. I wouldn’t be trapped in this purgatory.
Colby was so cute though. He was familiar; he looked like he was mine. We were each other’s. I wanted him to myself, but there was no way I could take him with me. He needed to finish living as a human first.
Then maybe I would hunt him down and rescue him from his purgatory so he wouldn’t have to live like this for 50 years like me.
“Did you leave?” Colby whispered.
”No. I’m right here.”
Here
“Okay,” he sighed and relaxed into the pillow. “I can’t believe I just had sex with a ghost—wait,” he gasped and looked around the room. “Did I fuck you? That’s so—What the fuck…”
“No, I just touched you. I wanted you to feel good. I can’t feel good until I move on.”
No… For you… I don’t feel good
”What?” Colby gasped. “You don’t feel good?”
”I can’t.”
Can’t
”Oh, because… Is sex only for human bodies then?”
”No,” I said, and reminded myself to be concise for the spirit box
No
”When I escape I can feel something again.”
When I escape
”You’re trapped here?” Colby gasped. The gears turned in his head and excitement welled in me.
”Help me out, please.”
Help me
”Help you do what? Do you need to move on?”
”Yes! Help me to the spiritual world.”
Yes
”Where do you need me to—”
Spirit world
”Holy shit,” Colby whispered. “You want me to help move you out of purgatory? Is that what this house is for you?’
”Yes!” I exclaimed. 
He understood!
Yes
”Well then I’m getting up and telling Sam.”
If I had a body, I would scream and cry for joy.
Also, if I had a body, it would burn alive at the sight of Colby cleaning himself up, so I left the room and waited in the hallway with welling excitement. 
“You’ll actually use the spirit box and not make me look like a freak in front of him, right?”
”Yeah, I’ll talk to him,” I laughed.
Yes
”Good,” he scoffed as he pulled on clothes. 
“I promise.”
”Dude, that’s crazy if it’s true.” I watched as Colby told Sam what had happened and conveniently left out the part where I touched him. If he didn’t want Sam to know, then I wouldn’t expose him in that way. “Let’s see if she actually communicates as accurately as that,” Sam said as he turned on the spirit box. “Would we need to try the Estes?”
”Maybe we can,” Colby sighed. “There was a vortex downstairs, did you see it?”
”No I didn’t actually,” he gasped. “Do you want to do Estes there?”
“I’m getting bored,” I grumbled.
Let’s hurry it up
”Whoa!” Sam cried when the box spat those words out at him.
”Yeah,” Colby laughed. “She isn’t very patient.”
“Are you trapped here like Colby sai—“
”Yes!”
Yes
”Oh my god.”
”I told you!” I watched the boys as they grabbed their things. “Let's do it now.”
And as they walked through me towards the staircase, I froze with realization upon feeling Colby's body. It ached with excitement, nervousness, and…
Longing?
I followed them and listened to his heart and the rushing of his blood. Something tuned to desperation flowed with it. 
It would have been much easier for me to navigate life as a human if I could feel someone’s physical attraction to me like I could feel Colby’s. I didn’t think that was possible, especially since he couldn’t see me. For all I knew, they could still be on the fence about believing that I existed.
But I couldn’t deny the way he felt. The way Sam felt. Sam didn’t hear me or feel me the way Colby did, but I could tell by the warmth of his palms and the racing of his heart that he didn’t linger in denial anymore. 
“I’m not even sure how to start this,” Sam said as he sat in the chair. He volunteered himself to be under the Estes method so that Colby could lead the interaction. I stood next to Sam in the middle of the vortex; the darkened mirrors holding endless hypnotizing space hung on either side of us. 
“I know, it’s fine. I’ll figure it out when we get there. I’m pretty sure I just encourage her to move on and she uses energy or something. We’ll see.”
Sam pulled the blindfold down. Headphones placed over his ears. 
I felt the energy from the spirit box shrill to life.
“Did you follow us down here?”
“Yes,” I said quickly. “I’m here.”
“Here,” Sam’s monotone voice spoke for me.
“Okay good.” Colby’s voice softened. I wanted to leave, I wanted it more than anything, but I also wished I had more time to listen to Colby, to be close to him. Every time I was near him, I zapped with electricity; a desperation I never knew. What would it be like if I was human? If we knew each other back then? What would it be like if we were born at the same time in the same state?
“Why are you afraid to move on?”
“I—All this time I wasn’t afraid, I just didn’t want to leave the human world, but now I can’t leave you. I want to stay with you, Colby.”
“Oh wow…” Sam muttered. 
“What?” Colby said quickly.
“That was a long—Those were a lot of words,” he laughed sheepishly. “Um…” I repeated what I said but paraphrased it to make it easier for the box to pick me up. “I wasn’t afraid of it.”
“You aren’t?” Colby gasped. “Why haven’t you—”
“Missed people.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Let me stay with you.”
“What?” Colby paused this time. “So you didn’t move on because you missed people and now you want to stay with us? Is it because you haven’t talked to anyone except for us—”
“No,” I grumbled. “I want you, Colby. No one else.”
“You, Colby.”
“Me?” He whispered. “Why do you want to stay with me? You can’t do that. You need to move on–”
“I wish we had time together then you would understand.” I wished that I could cry like humans did at that moment. I cried, but no pressure relieved me.
“We could have had more time.” Colby’s body froze as he stared in shock at Sam. Or maybe he stared through him. He wanted something to look at; he couldn’t see me. I wished I could reveal myself to him, but I didn’t know how.
“Why do you want us to have more time?”
“Because we would have been together. I could have actually probably loved you.”
“I would have…. I didn’t catch— Love you.”
“I would have loved you…” Colby whispered. “It’s too late,” he told me, but the quietness of his voice sounded like he figured it out for himself. 
“I can see you again, Colby.”
“See you again… Colby, dude it keeps saying your name.”
“I know,” Colby spoke absentmindedly. He looked like he was in a trance more than Sam was even though he rocked back and forth in the Estes method. “Are—Do you know me?”
“Maybe in a past life. We can find each other in the next.”
“Past life.”
“Holy shit.” His voice was quiet and I wanted nothing more than to hug him. I stood face to face with him in the blink of an eye. 
“I will see you soon, Colby.”
And I kissed him.
He blinked quickly and warm surprise flooded me when he licked his lips once.
“See you soon.” He didn't know what to say. I felt the tension in his throat.
“Don’t cry. Now tell me to leave and then you can find me when you’re done living here.”
“Help me leave.” Colby shook his head.
“No–”
“Please help me, Colby. I need to go on. You can’t stay here forever. I’ll be able to see you still and you’ll be able to feel me until one day you’ll see me for the first time. Well, for the first time in this timeline. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Please help me… You will still… I didn’t hear—Oh, You’ll still feel me.”
“I—I don’t like—”
“It’s okay, don’t be scared.” I stood in the vortex again. “Help me leave. I’ll see you later.”
“Don’t be scared. Help me leave.” 
“Okay,” Colby said as he shook himself out of it. “It’s alright, you can move on. Spirits leave this house, move on to the next life.”
That tug returned, but now it was unavoidable. The mirrors lulled me into a beckoning trance.
“Move on and be free from this house.”
The mirror pulled me in, the house was unreachable now.
“Love you.”
As Sam pulled off the blindfold, Colby’s eyes darted towards mine from where I traveled through the mirror, and from the look on his face—the pure focus on me, drift of his tear filled eyes across my face—he saw me.
Then all I saw was light.
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A/N: I took a much needed break. Not to info or trauma dump, but my mom moved about four hours away from me a week ago, and I only found out three weeks before that. After helping her move, it's been pretty hard for me since we've only ever lived at most 10 minutes from each other. Thanks for being patient, and I'm going to hop back on that writing grind because I miss it!
Also, Comment if you would rather read multi-chapter fics on Tumblr or Ao3. This will help me navigate where to post if I do not cross post.
✧˖*°࿐
Taglist (Comment to be added):
@a-random-google-user
@graceciesiels22
@honestlybabymiracle
@xxsecretscenekidxx
@thedeadlynights
@glittervame
@rockwyu
@worldlxvlys
@benbarnesprettygurl
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narumi-gens · 10 months
Text
Platonic
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Miya Osamu x f!Reader
summary: Osamu knows that there’s nothing going on between you and his brother. And yet, he still can’t help but be jealous.
warnings: minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, don't let the summary fool you – this is basically just 4k words of fluff, jealous!osamu, slightly insecure!osamu, married!osamu, dad!osamu, very normal relationship problems, the importance of communication, kita is always the voice of wisdom, osamu is really just a simp for you, reader and osamu are #CoupleGoals
notes: whenever I’m trying to get back into writing, stealing plots from sitcoms is always a guarantee so everything from the title to the banner to the plot is at least 80% lifted from platonic (which is such a wonderful show).
words: 4k
part of the Meet the Miyas series
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Osamu is jealous. And he hates it. He hates the word. He hates the feeling. He hates what it says about him. He really hates how irrational it is.
But what he hates most is that the person that he's jealous of is his own brother (that scrub).
But maybe he's the scrub. Because it's dumb. You've been together for years. You trust him. You love him. You're committed to him. You're married to him. You’re the mother of his child. You're happy with the life that you've built together. 
And he knows that Atsumu is your best friend. You were Atsumu's friend before he even met you. Atsumu is the one who introduced the two of you, who set you up — which he'll never stop taking credit for if his speech at your wedding was anything to go by. So of course you spend a significant amount of time with his twin. 
It’s never really bothered him before. If anything, he’s typically relieved that you’re so close with Atsumu. The more you occupy the setter’s time, the less time he has to annoy Osamu. 
And you’re allowed to have friends and a life outside of being a wife and mother. He wants you to have fun and to be your own person outside of your relationship with him. He doesn’t expect you to go from home to work and back to repeat the cycle all over again the next day. Not that you would ever allow it. 
It wasn’t easy and it took a lot of hard work, but over the years, the two of you have built a happy balance between him running the restaurant, you pursuing your own thriving career, being doting parents to a three-year-old son, and still managing to keep your marriage healthy. So this gross feeling of jealousy has no place in his life, especially where Atsumu is concerned. 
But it creeps up on him slowly, needling its way into him before he even has a chance to stop it. He first feels it over something so small that it embarrasses him. 
He asks you if you want to go see a new movie that’s been advertised for months. His mom and yours are always eager to babysit — sometimes eager to the point of forcing you both out of the house for what’s declared “much-needed grandparent time.” 
“Oh, I promised Atsumu that I’d see it with him,” you reply with a slight tilt of your head before picking up your phone. “Let me check with him about us all going together.”
It’s a simple and obvious solution. You’ve already sent your message to Atsumu and are looking up showtimes for that weekend. But there’s a small voice in the back of Osamu’s head insisting that you should be asking him if Atsumu can come with the two of you, not the other way around. The unfamiliar thought makes him feel uncomfortable and he quickly shoves it away.
But just that small, intrusive voice is like a spark and it isn’t long before he finds himself hearing it again, fanning the pathetic, weak flame into something stronger.
One morning, he’s pulled from sleep by the blankets lifting and the mattress dipping. When he cracks open a bleary eye, he sees you doing your best to slip into bed without disturbing him. He can’t check the time on his phone without giving away that you’ve already woken him up. But from the pale grey light of early morning that’s already beginning to brighten the bedroom and the fact that Reiji isn’t already awake, Osamu guesses that it’s between five and six. 
He knows that you had plans with Atsumu last night. You told him that you would probably be back late. But “back late” feels like an understatement considering the joys of parenthood usually have both of you up in about an hour whether it’s a workday or not. 
When you come down a few hours later, the bags under your eyes and unkempt hair point to your inability to sleep in even after what he can only assume was an all-night rager. You pepper your son’s cheeks with exaggerated kisses that have him giggling over his breakfast as Osamu pours you a cup of what he’s sure is much-needed coffee. 
“Ya got home late last night,” he comments as you take the mug that he passes you.
“Ah, yeah. Just ended up going a little harder than I meant to,” you reply and something close to embarrassment seems to cross your features. You glance at Reiji, making sure his attention is on his food before you lower to voice to a furtive whisper. “I threw up in a karaoke room and had to sleep it off at Atsumu’s.”
His immediate instinct is to laugh in your face and he has to bite his lips and quickly look away from you to keep from doing so. You weakly punch his shoulder in response before sitting down at the table. 
But the amusement at your misfortune slowly starts to fade, replaced instead by that same voice, which is growing steadily more familiar. He can’t remember the last time that the two of you had a night like that together. He tries to think back on if it was before or after Reiji was born. And while you certainly don’t make vomiting in karaoke rooms a habit, it’s not at all rare for you and his brother to have a wild night out. 
When the voice asks why you’re having them with Atsumu but not with him, the only thing he can focus on is the knot in the pit of his stomach and how it only seems to grow tighter. 
He hears it again when he’s with Atsumu one day and he asks Osamu what he thinks about you rejecting a new job offer. The question is offhanded — he’s looking at his phone when asks it, barely even giving Osamu a fraction of his attention. 
But Osamu freezes. This is the first that he’s heard about any job offer. He didn’t even know that you were interviewing somewhere else. 
“What job offer?” His voice sounds thin and Atsumu seems to realize that he’s unintentionally stumbled into something much bigger because his thumb stops scrolling and there’s a line of tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there only moments ago. 
“Uh, it’s nothin’ big,” he quickly tries to assure his brother as he puts down his phone and turns to face him fully. “It just happened this week. Some new place made her an offer and she turned it down.”
Osamu merely hums, his expression betraying nothing, but his twin brother knows him too well.
“Look, I’m sure she just hasn’t gotten ‘round to telling ya,” he offers and Osamu can see the slight panic in his eyes. “She had that big meeting. And she’s been lookin’ after Reiji-kun since he’s been sick, right? Things’ve probably just been too crazy fer her to even think about it.”
Every excuse only digs the hole deeper. It’s not just this apparent job that you’ve been pursuing only to turn down that Atsumu knows about. It’s also your hectic work week and how you’ve been taking care of Reiji since the restaurant’s been too shorthanded for Osamu to stay home. 
What’s next? Is he going to mention that you’ve also been so busy the two of you haven’t had sex in almost three weeks? From the guilty look in his twin’s eyes, Osamu would bet good money that he’s already aware. 
On his way home, he tries to think about the best way to raise the subject with you and ultimately decides that there’s no good way to ask, “Hey. Why are ya tellin’ Tsumu things but not yer husband?”
(He knows that’s definitely the wrong way to phrase it, but that little voice won’t say it any other way.)
But when he enters your bedroom he finds you slouched against the headboard, fully passed out with Reiji sprawled on top of you as he clings to you even in his sleep. The light and tv are both still on. You’re obviously exhausted and stretched thin, while Osamu is looking to pick a fight. The guilt he feels is almost crippling. 
It probably hasn’t even occurred to you to mention the job offer with everything else going on. Atsumu is right, which only makes him feel worse. 
He comes toward the both of you and carefully tries to pick Reiji up out of your arms without waking either of you. But he’s only just managed to pry the sick toddler loose when your eyelids flutter open.
It takes you a moment to register what’s happening, still feeling the dregs of sleep, but when you do, you give him the softest smile and it makes him feel like an even bigger piece of shit.
“Did you just get home?” you whisper as you help him lift Reiji off of you. But before he can take your son too far away, you shift over and gesture for Osamu to place him in the middle of the bed. “He’ll cry if he wakes up in his room alone.”
“He doin’ any better?” Osamu quietly asks and does as you ask, gently putting him down before sitting down on your other side on the edge of the mattress. 
“His fever broke a couple of hours ago, so he should be back to normal in a day or two.” The news is a visible relief to you. It’s not just the amount of effort a sick child takes, but also the worry that’s been weighing you down. 
“Wish I coulda been ‘round more to help ya,” he tells you, his guilt about both doubting you and leaving you to take care of Reiji by yourself beginning to peek through.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” you assure him, lifting a hand to run your fingers through his hat hair. “I know that you’re in a bind since Kimura-san quit. I’m the one with the flexible hours and schedule. I really don’t mind. We’re a team.”
He doesn’t deserve you.
“Well, the new part-timer starts next week so things’ll finally calm down,” he offers and something mischievous sparkles in your tired eyes.
“Good. Because when you can finally take some time off, we’re gonna pawn Reiji off on the grandparents. Then you’re gonna make it up to me by spending the entire night making me cum so hard I see stars,” you tell him, your tone leaving no room for argument, as if he would ever want to. 
“I can do that,” he agrees with a grin.
“We haven’t fucked in weeks,” you pout and Osamu can’t hold in his laughter, only for you to slap a hand over his mouth to keep him from waking up Reiji. 
Your own quiet giggles are able to momentarily drown out the small voice reminding him about the job offer that you’ve yet to tell him about. 
But a few weeks later, even after having the house to yourselves for an entire weekend and spending it fucking on every surface that you could like you used to do before Reiji came along, those embarrassing feelings of jealousy are still as present as ever.
You post a series of photos of you and Atsumu at a restaurant. The first picture is of your happy, smiling faces and the matching pair of five-pound gyoza on the table, one in front of each of you. As he swipes through the series, you both look worse and worse as you try to finish your gyoza. When he gets to the final one, you’re proudly holding a certificate from the restaurant for having finished yours in an hour, while Atsumu looks like he’s on death’s doorstep.
He’s so preoccupied swiping back and forth through the photos that when the restaurant door slides open, it startles him so badly that he almost drops his phone entirely. He doesn’t know whether or not to be relieved that it’s Kita coming to drop off a new order of rice rather than a customer who didn’t read the closed sign. 
On one hand, he doesn’t want to deal with a customer while he’s in the midst of indulging that voice that’s slowly becoming a companion. But on the other, dealing with Kita when he’s in a jealousy spiral is even worse.
“Is everything alright? Ya look like ya just got some bad news,” Kita observes with a small frown of concern.
As Osamu assures him that nothing’s wrong, he tries to hurriedly shove his phone into the pocket of his apron. However, it slips from his sweaty hands and skids across the floor of the restaurant where it comes face-up to a perfect stop right in front of Kita’s feet.
He picks it up and when he sees the final picture of you and Atsumu on the screen, he shakes his head in amusement. 
“Atsumu only sent me the picture of them at the start of the challenge,” he wryly says as he slides the restaurant door shut behind him and joins Osamu at the counter. He takes a moment to swipe through the rest of the photos in your post before passing the phone back. “I’m surprised ya didn’t go with ‘em.”
“I wasn’t invited,” he mumbled, vocalizing the bitter thought that’s been taking up so much space in his mind ever since you and Atsumu originally made the plans. But as soon as the words leave his lips, he knows he’s given himself away because he can feel Kita’s heavy gaze on him.
“Did ya ask if ya could join ‘em?” is Kita’s annoyingly reasonable response. After a few moments, Osamu gives the smallest shake of his head, confirming that no, he didn’t ask if he could go with you and his brother. 
“Y’know, yer wife is an amazing woman,” he finally says when it’s clear Osamu has nothing else to offer. “But fer all of her talents, she’s not a mind reader. Just talk to her.”
Osamu groans loudly at how rational Kita is being. He drops his head down to rest his forehead on the countertop, his Onigiri Miya hat flopping off in the process. While he agrees that it’s good advice, there’s still one problem.
“Kita-san…it’s embarrassing,” he protests childishly and he turns his head to the side to look up at his old team captain. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Stop spendin’ so much time with that scrub!’ I’ll sound like an idiot.”
“Just talk to her,” Kita repeats calmly and Osamu can only sigh. “Why don’t ya tell me how Reiji-kun’s been?”
For the rest of the day, Osamu finds himself trapped in an internal debate over whether or not he should take Kita’s advice. The ugly voice in his head insists that he shouldn’t have to say anything at all. If you really love him then you should already know. The more self-conscious part of him keeps warning him of how embarrassed he’ll be when he tells his wife, the mother of his child, the love of his life, that he’s jealous of how much time she spends with his brother. 
But a new voice, one that sounds exactly like Kita, simply asks him if he’s tired of feeling like this. Does he really want to keep harboring this resentment? It’ll only continue to fester and grow until it explodes, hurting everyone he loves. 
So that night, after he’s put Reiji to bed and the dishes are done and the laundry is folded and he has no more excuses left to procrastinate, he collapses next to you on the couch with an exaggerated sigh. You look up at him from your phone with an amused smile, only for it to slightly fall when you see how troubled he looks. 
“What’s going on? Did something happen at work?” you ask, turning to give him your full attention and scooting closer to him so that you can rest a gentle hand on his thigh. 
He shuts his eyes and gives himself a single moment to steel himself before finally letting out the poison that’s slowly been building inside of him for the last few months. 
“I have somethin’ to tell ya and it’s gonna make it seem like I’m fifteen or somethin’,” he says and he knows that if he didn’t sound so serious then you would be making a joke about him having some sort of wet dream and ruining the sheets. Instead, you give his thigh a reassuring squeeze. 
“Lately…fer the last few months…I’ve been feelin’ kinda…jealous.”
There. The words are out there in the world. You’ve heard them. He can go crawl into a hole and wait for the embarrassment to kill him. 
“Jealous? Of what?” 
He hates how concerned you sound. You’re not making light of his admission. You’re not confused. You’re being patient. You’re gentle. You’re so much better than him and his childish pettiness and resentment and jealousy. 
“You and stupid Tsumu,” he grumbles, slouching down even further into the couch. He glances over at you from the corner of his eye and sees the look of surprise on your face. He shuts his eyes again, balling his hands into fists, and tells himself to man the fuck up.
With his nerves now steeled, he takes a deep breath, sits up straight, and turns to fully face you. 
“Look, I know that ya got this weird friendship with Tsumu and that he’s yer best friend. And it’s never been a big deal before, but lately, I dunno…,” he trails off, his gaze darting down before he forces it back up to meet yours. “I’ve just been feelin’ a little…cut out.”
“Osamu,” you murmur, lifting a hand to his face but he quickly takes it between both of his so that he can hold it tight and keep himself steady. 
“I love you and our family and the life we’ve built together. I wouldn’t change any of it fer anything,” he’s quick to assure you, needing you to know that you make him happier than he ever thought he could be. “But sometimes I see ya hangin’ out with Tsumu and havin’ fun and it sounds dumb but, I wish I could see more of that part of yer life.”
You softly repeat his name before you climb into his lap. You wrap an arm around his shoulders to hold him close and pull your other hand from his grasp so that you can cup his cheek with a loving touch. 
“I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel that way,” you tell him. “You’re always gonna come first. I don’t ever want you to feel excluded or like I’m trying to keep the different pieces of my life compartmentalized.”
Just hearing your apology and acknowledgment of the irrational jealousy that’s been plaguing him soothes his insecurities and embarrassment. 
“I want ya to be able to go do things on yer own and do things with Tsumu without feelin’ like ya gotta bring me along every time. But ya just look like yer havin’ fun when yer gettin’ up to stupid things together and I guess, I just wanna have fun with ya too,” he shrugs. Despite how true it is, he hates how cheesy he sounds. But from the way that you’re looking at him with so much affection, you clearly find it touching. 
“I love having fun with you, Osamu,” you smile back at him and his cheeks start to feel warm. “I’d love to do more stupid things with you.”
“Even if that stupid thing is spendin’ 20,000 yen at an arcade to beat a bunch of teens for the high score?” he asks and it comes out shyer than he intended. “Or buyin’ out every flavor of chips and every type of snack from the konbini just to rank ‘em?”
“Even then,” you nod with a grin. “Even if it’s needing to make a cab pull over to throw up after a night of drinking.”
“I thought it was the karaoke room?” he frowns in confusion.
“It was the karaoke room for me. The cab was Atsumu,” you tell him with a laugh and he snorts in response. 
But then, since this is a time for honesty, he decides to bring up the question that’s been weighing heavily on his mind for the last few weeks. 
“Why didn’t ya tell me about the job offer?” he gently asks, the question curious rather than accusatory.
“Job offer?” The line of your mouth twists down and your eyebrows knit together as you try to understand what he’s referring to. 
“Tsumu said ya turned down a job offer. It was around when Reiji was sick,” he explains and his tone turns slightly hesitant. “Did ya feel like ya couldn’t tell me?”
Your eyes spark with recognition before you roll them in annoyance.
“Atsumu’s an idiot. He never listens,” you begin to rant and he’s not too proud to admit that hearing your irritation directed towards his twin extinguishes the last remaining embers of his jealousy. “It wasn’t a job offer. A recruiter reached out about a job opening for a position that involves more work for less pay. I didn’t even reply.”
He feels an odd mixture of relief, guilt, and frustration. He’s relieved that this was just some misunderstanding, but he feels just as guilty for jumping to the worst conclusion and thinking that you were something big from him. The frustration will be dealt with when he next sees his twin and gives him an earful and delivers a slap to the back of his head.
“I’m sorry fer not just askin’ ya ‘bout it sooner,” he says and you just give him a look of understanding. 
“You and me, we’re only human. There are just gonna be times when I forget to tell you something or just don’t think to bother with it. But I’ll always do my best to make sure you know when there’s something going on. We’re a team, remember?” You run your fingers caringly through his hair with a soft smile and he leans eagerly into your touch.
“We’re a team,” he repeats quietly, finding the words comforting. He then gives you a slightly embarrassed look. “Hey, don’t tell Tsumu, okay? He’ll just call me a scrub.”
You place a reassuring kiss on his lips before nodding. 
“Don’t worry. You’re a scrub, but you’re my scrub and I love you.” He can’t help but laugh as he wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you close. “But, you wanna do something crazy, huh?”
When he looks up at you, it’s to find a hint of wildness creeping into your expression. It’s the same wildness he used to see when you first started dating — before you both became adults and spouses and parents with real responsibilities. 
The next day, Atsumu stops by the restaurant in the late afternoon during a lull. His appearance is unannounced, meaning that Osamu hasn’t had a chance to prepare himself for what he knows is to come. It’s as bad as he imagined because as soon as the setter walks in, he freezes, his expression going slack in shock at the sight of Osamu.
Or more correctly, at the sight of Osamu’s hair, which has been amateurishly dyed to be the same shade of grey that he used to wear in high school. 
“Don’t even start,” he warns but doing so is pointless because Atsumu immediately bursts into laughter, finding it so funny that he has to clutch his stomach as he bends over. 
“Who’s idea was this?” he manages to ask in between his gasps for air and his cackles. “Ya look so stupid!”
Osamu just stares at him blankly, not bringing up the fact that Atsumu is the one who’s been wearing the exact same hairstyle since they were sixteen, and isn’t that even more pathetic? 
Because for all of the mocking that he receives, he knows it was worth it for the time he spent joking and laughing with you into the late hours of the night in your tiny bathroom as you did your best to dye his hair without burning his scalp.
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leeknow-thoughts · 5 months
Text
Tis the Season : Bang Chan
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rating : mature(MDNI)
TWs : fluffy smut, fem!reader, petnames, dilf!chan and the reader is his girlfriend bc I am self indulging, breeding kink!??!?, degrading and praising combo !??!?, slight nipple play!??!, overall pretty vanilla tbh
"Okay we have like another two hours before they're gonna be waking up," Chan says as he glances at his watch.
You find yourself in a set of Christmas pajamas sitting on Chan's bedroom floor with him, wrapping the Christmas gifts for his twin daughters. Chan's face contorts with concentration as he builds one of his daughters, Minnie's, dollhouse.
You had it easy, you were just wrapping his other daughter, Ella's, Lego Friends set.
"Okay I think it's done," Chris sighs and moves to show you his work, "pretty good if I do say so myself!"
You smile, "I agree."
You finish tying the bow on the present as you move onto the next, and last, gift. "Here baby I'll wrap that for you, do you want to start putting the presents under the tree?" Chris inquires.
You nod happily and begin transporting the presents from you and Chan's bedroom floor to under the Christmas tree in the living room. Chris soon finishes wrapping that gift before moving the built dollhouse into the living room. After all the presents had been moved to under the tree, Chan hugged you. "We still have a little while until the girls wake up, you wanna have some fun or stay up?" he asks.
"What kind of fun?" you speak into his chest.
"Maybe a Santa and Mrs.Claus sexual roleplay?" he giggles.
You burst out laughing, clapping your hand over your mouth to prevent noises from escaping. You lean in and place a kiss on his plump lips after you contain yourself. "Only if I get to be Santa," you mumble on his lips.
He chuckles as he holds your face in his hands, "whatever you want sweetheart," he smiles and places another gentle kiss on your lips.
The walk into the bedroom is more of a run, like two teenagers who were left alone together for 5 minutes. Chris shuts and locks the door behind him. As soon as he does that you pounce on him.
Hastily pulling off his pajama shirt, leaving love bites and hickies all down his neck. You begin to trail down his chest, stopping at his nipple, looking him in his eyes before you tenderly take the bud in your mouth.
Chan slaps his hand over his mouth as you skillfully use your tongue on his nipple, alternating between left and right. "Fuck sweetheart," he whimpers through his hand.
Your hand moves down to cup his growing cock through the confines of his pajama pants. His fingers weave through your hair tenderly. You drop down onto your knees. But before you can move to pull his pants off he stops you with his hold in your hair.
"Babydoll c'mere I want you to ride my thigh," he says with the most innocent glint in his eyes, as if he wasn't about to get his dick sucked.
"You sure? I'm fine with sucking you off," you reassure.
"Watching you cum is easily better than just nutting down your throat," he affirms.
He lets go of your hair and helps you off the floor and onto the bed. You pull down your pajama pants and panties at the same time as Chris lays against the headboard. You settle over his right thigh, connecting your lips with his own. He guides your hips to grind on his thigh.
"Just like that little one, grind in little circles, I know that's what you like baby," he smirks as his helps you move your hips against his thick thigh.
You whimper as the fabric of his pajama pants rubs against your clit just right. You speed up your motions, trying to reach your high as fast as possible.
Letting whimpers slip from your lips as Chan works up your shirt so it's just over your tits. All he has to do is take your left nipple in his mouth and start sucking on the bud and then you're cumming all over his thigh.
You felt yourself slipping into that cozy and fuzzy headspace faster than you could stop yourself. "That's it my little love, such a good slut for me," Chan coos as he runs a hand through your hair, pushing it out of your face.
You sigh with a smile and he pulls his pants down enough so that his hard dick slaps against the bottom of his stomach. His flared mushroom tip is already leaking with precum as he strokes it a few times. "C'mon princess, wan' you to ride me," he whines.
"B-but I don't know how to?" you somehow find your words.
He smirks, "it's okay little one, I'll teach you," he reassures tenderly.
You adjust so you are hovering over his throbbing dick while facing him, "here you go," he says as he begins to guide you down onto his fat cock.
You wince a little at the stretch, no matter how many times you take his cock, it's so big you'll never get used to it. "Oh there you go biiiggg stretch, that's it," he murmurs into your ear.
Once you have taken all the cock you can, you pause for a moment to adjust, "now what?" you question.
"Bounce, bounce like a bunny," he instructs.
You start moving up and down, just like Chris instructed. His tip kissing your cervix every time you sink back down. Whimpers rolled off your tongue. "Oh attagirl, you're a natural," Chris pauses and throws his head back, "such a perfect cumdump for me."
His words pushed you farther into the headspace, where every sharp edge was soft and fuzzy. "Oh you are so far gone, it's adorable," he chuckles.
You begin bouncing faster, "breed... me," you plead.
"Yeah?" he coos, "yeah you want me to fuck all my cum into you, you want your belly to swell with my babies?"
You nod feverishly. By now Chris was also snapping his hips up, fucking his cock into your pussy. You felt him take one of your hands, moving it down to your belly.
You could feel his cock thrusting in you. You had stars in your eyes with a dumb look on your face. "Fuck- cumming-" Chris whimpers.
You felt it seep into, as he kept fucking it into you. You eventually moved your hand down to your clit, you began playing with it. And you almost instantly came all around his cock.
The next few minutes the only noise in the house was you and Chris' heavy breathing. He eventually pulled his softening cock out, kissing your forehead before pulling you into his chest to cuddle. "Merry Christmas my love," he hums tiredly.
"Merry Christmas," you return.
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Text
The Lost 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of loss, grieving, death, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers
Summary: You move into a shared flat and encounter a mysterious man.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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“And this is your room,” Muriel stops before a door along the short hallway. “You have a neighbour just across the hall, and two more on the other side of the kitchen.”
You nod. It isn’t an ideal situation. Not one you ever saw yourself in. But survival isn’t built for the fussy. There are many others like you. Those not so lucky, those who are dead. Many who never got the choice of a new home.
You keep your hand on your rolling bag, your other on your canvas knapsack. They’re full of items that aren’t your own. Second-hand clothes acquired from shelters and toiletries given out by the support workers. You’re on your own now.
“Anything else, dear?” Muriel asks to your silence.
“Thank you, Muriel,” you murmur.
She hands you the key and leaves. Before showing you your own space, she took you around those shared by the rest of her boarders. You suppose they’re your roommates now. A kitchen, two bathrooms, a front room with a tattered couch and old tube television. You’ll stick to your own four walls.
You slide the key in the slot, the metal grinding loudly. You hear a throat clear and peer towards the noise. The walls must be thin. You’re still alone. You let yourself into the room, pulling the door shut behind you. You flip the lock back into place before you shove your bags by the wall.
There’s a twin bed with a metal frame, a single night table, and a standing lamp. There’s also a shallow closet. It’s not much but you don’t need more than that. It’s good to have a roof over your head.
You sit on the lumpy mattress and the frame squeaks loudly. You stand up again and pace around. There isn’t too much room. It shouldn’t matter, you won’t need it. You’ll be out working and back to sleep again. You start tomorrow at the convenience shop.
You hear a thump and your head pops up. You can’t help but jump in your shoes. Ever since the city rained down around you, every bump, every sudden noise has you skittish. It’s nothing, only another boarder.
You go to your bag and unbuckle the flap. You pull out a can of beans and the pocket knife in the side pocket. You go back to the bed and sit, another shrill whine from the metal frame. You pull out the can open from the pocket knife and peel back the lid. On the same keychain is a small metal spork you use to scoop out the beans, eating them cold as your stomach growls hungrily.
You eat, bite by bite, staring at the wall, just beside the only window. It isn’t home. You don’t expect one of those. It’s just a place to live. To survive.
🚪
You take your toothbrush and your tube of toothpaste with you to the bathroom down the hall. It’s just across from the other bedroom on that side of the flat. The doorway is dark, beckoning you inside. You flip on the light and shut the door as you enter.
You turn on the tap and set to brushing your teeth. Such a basic and simple task but one you didn’t always have the chance to do. It’s almost soothing to feel the bristles in your mouth. It makes you feel almost normal.
You take your time as the mint flavour sticks to your tongue. You rinse your brush and flick off the excess water, sliding it back into the travel tube and capping the paste. You look at yourself in the mirror, not for long, just to make sure you still recognise you.
You clutch your things in one hand and flick the light off. You open the door and nearly shriek at the shadow waiting in the hall. You waver in the doorway as a tiny wisp escapes your throat. You blink as the dark silhouette stands with arms crossed in the dim hall.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” the man says gruffly.
He's tall but mostly obscured. His hair wings out around his neck and his shoulders bulge broadly. You feel his eyes boring into you, as he can see through the darkness and you.
You dip your chin and sidle out, keeping your distance as you sidestep along the wall. You should apologise but your voice is buried deep down. You put your hand up in a show of deference.
“You done?” He asks.
You pause and look at the plaster across from you. You nod then turn your back to him completely. He must be the neighbour. You quickly shuffle to your room and hide behind the door. It’s much better than the shelter, you don’t have someone rolling into your sleeping bag, but still, you’re claustrophobic.
You mourn that most. The sense of privacy. Of personal space. Have a place that’s your own with people you know. People you love.
You toss your toothbrush and toothpaste onto the night table and huff as you sit on the bed. You frown and push your head back, trying to soothe the tightness between your shoulders. You blow out, breath rattling as your nose tingles.
You can never go back to Sokovia or how it was. You can only go forward and the road ahead is very lonely.
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naffeclipse · 1 month
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I'm sorry if this question has been asked in some form or another but... How would Eclipse, should he have ever moved away from the Arctic in search of a new home, react if he encountered a pair of orphaned Orca Siren Calves (Sun and Moon) being raised by a reclusive writer human Y/N? Like either their sibling got the Siren Transformation and the whole pod is just now... gone due to some unfortunate events... Or the Y/N just found the two orphans in the shallows near their very secluded home and the parents never came back?
Point is human Y/N is trying their best, but that means things aren't going all that great. Both kids can read and are cared for. Moon is a master of the door dash app when using the tablet kept on land near the water for them. But there's love... Lots of love.
How would he react to this?
Oh, I love this
You wanted to be left alone, unfortunately, the two... babies, didn't get the memo. They're so small. You have no idea what to do with the mythical creature children. Sirens. Sure, you've heard of them. So why aren't they taking care of their young? Why are they wailing at the edge of the icy land you've made your home on? It doesn't take long for you to take pity on the small things and feed them some chewed fish (but only this once).
Somehow, you end up with a small ice shelter where you've carved two breathing holes under the ice to let the seawater and the babies swim for a day, keeping a careful watch on them while jotting down a few ideas you've had for your writing (perhaps inspired by sirens). Then, at the night's end, you lovingly pick up both toddler-sized sirens, tucking one into each arm to carry them to your home where your bathtub has become a makeshift crib of seawater and half-chewed rubber duckies.
You believe they're twins despite their different appearances, one touched with cream-colored orca markings and soft yellow frills framing his face. The other brother is black and white and has a slippery dark blue tendril behind his head, trailing into a luminous bulb. They have mismatched eyes but share one blue iris.
So much for only feeding them once. The tiny fish got you wrapped around their little claws.
They growl and chuff and softly whine whenever you're not within sight, and each of them demands time alone to snuggle against your chest before you set down your bedding on the bathroom floor and urge them to sleep through the night. You're right here if they need you. Somehow, one or both end up on you, dripping wet, and you can only groan and softly hold the babies through the night despite their constant wiggles and slick, sheeny bodies.
This goes on for a few years before you start to worry that your bathtub is too cramped for the children. Sun and Moon (oh gosh, you gave them names; now you're really attached) are so smart and excel at reading and writing, making use of markers and whiteboards, and remembering to let their hands dry before grabbing the paper from the floor of the ice shelter to draw doodles of the icy waves.
There were learning curves, such as when you had to scold Moon for biting you so hard his sharp teeth drew blood, but he cried, so you stopped being angry and showed him how to help you bandage your hand. See? All better. But no biting. Another time was Sun growing impatient with your slow pace as you gathered your writing materials before joining them in the ice shelter, and he grabbed your leg and halfway pulled you into the frigid water, shocking your system with the sheer cold before you scrambled out and had to retreat to your home to undress and get warm. Sun hid away from you, unwilling to come out despite your coaxing once night fell. You had to lay down a new rule: they cannot pull you into the water. You are not built like them. He clung to you and apologized, and you forgave him with a kiss on the forehead.
You wanted to be left alone with your children. (Yours. Your babies.) Unfortunately, they're not the only sirens around. You sense another presence just at dusk when you're preparing to take Sun out of the breathing hole (you can only carry one at a time now, and even then, it takes all your strength to lift with your legs—when did they get so big?) and pause with your hands under Sun's arms, his hands still opening and closing for you. Through the slight opening in the flap of the ice shelter, out into the shallows of the icy sea, you see two pairs of eyes, yellow and red, and piercing.
A siren.
You react with adrenaline and fear, fueled by the intention to protect your children no matter the cost, and pull Sun and Moon out of the breathing holes in a second. Placing them in the far corner, you shield them with your body. The strange siren pokes his head through the breathing hole not a moment later. Eyes wide, breathing harshly, you stare each other down, siren against human. His gaze slips past you, and he grins upon finding Sun's and Moon's big eyes peeking around you as they cling to your shoulders, confused and frightened. Their flukes flip anxiously.
The siren grinned at you, and for the better half of the night, you conversed with the siren about how you came upon your children. His intentions remain sinister and masked until he at last tells you how perfect he finds you and the boys. You stare, standoffish, but he assures you, he will be the father that they need, and the mate you deserve. You don't believe him. You don't trust him with your babies, but when he grabs your leg and rips you away from your children, much to their protests and small cries, you're caught under him and his caressing claws before you realize that his hunger is more.
It starts to make sense. Of course, Eclipse can teach them far more than you can about how to navigate their marine existant and how to properly hunt and not only take food from your hands. He teaches them how to sing, how to watch prey, how to use their strength and teeth to conquer. And you... you watch, realizing that you miss those bathtub days, but your boys are happy. They love Eclipse and Eclipse, well, when he's not tending to the children, he's spending time with you, laying his crossed arms on your lap to gaze up at you, insisting you accept a dead seal from him.
Maybe he has a bit of charm. And maybe you begrudgingly let you sing you to sleep when you're left fretting about Sun and Moon swimming late into the night on their own, but they're growing big. They don't fit in your arms anymore. You start to feel a little forgotten before you find all three sirens acting very suspiciously, your boys whispering before telling you that Dad—Eclipse wants to give you something. He softly presses a beautiful black pearl into your palm. You've never been much for anything that isn't practical, but it's beautiful, so you take it. Eclipse is pleased and so are the Sun and Moon. He steals a kiss from you. You don't mind.
You wanted to be left alone, but you find yourself in the siren's arms as you both watch a burning orange sunset and your sons playfully fighting in the small waves.
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sweetpandorabox · 1 year
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Fred Weasley as a boyfriend 💥🦁
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⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙
Warnings ⚠️: Slight mentioned of sexual themes and some spicy stuff.
Dating this troublemaker yet funnier and sexy twin could include:
👨🏻‍🦰🪦🧹
He's very affectionate in a playful kind of way, for example, he can pick you up like a ragdoll and would playfully threaten to throw you in the black lake, tackle hugs, rest his chin right on top of your head because he's built like a tree, smacks your ass, pinch your cheeks and harmless prank here and there to make you laugh.
He's lowkey the jealous type but plays it off well and hides it away from you because if you caught him jealous he knows you'll never drop it.
Still flirts and tease you like you guys aren't already dating. Sending a wink and smile your way and whispering dirty yet clever pickup lines all the time to see you blush.
Him being lowkey a bad influence on you by taking you along and breaking the school rules to pull pranks, but somehow the best memories that the two of you have together are of breaking rules and being silly teenagers together.
Pulling faces, sending notes, hitting you with paper balls at you during classes to get your attention if he isn't sitting next to you, because if there's anything that Fred loves most it's your attention.
You guys have a deal, he teaches you how to juggle, cartwheel and cast cool spells in return for you helping him with his school work.
He loves PDA and is not ashamed of it and would pull it anywhere he could, in some occasions he's gotten told to keep his hand off you just for an hour until class ends by numerous different professors.
The both of you have a special place where you're able to just hold each other and snog whenever you feel like it, so to mark the place Fred carved both of your initials inside of a big heart on a nearby tree by that spot so everyone knows who this place belongs to.
Stealing all of his knitted sweaters and hoodies because they're much larger on you, but then he asks Molly to make one for you this Christmas with your initial on it and you got super excited that you wear it every day for a month.
Likes when you call him Freddie, Baby, Good-looking, Spitfire, or Casanova (you call him that before the both of you started dating and still use it at times).
He calls you cute nicknames like Baby, Lover-Girl, Sexy, or Sunshine.
His love language is probably quality time because spending time with you and making memories with you is what he cherishes most.
He stares at you all the time and can't keep his eyes off you, one time he full-on ditched his school work and was looking at you focusing on your own thing while he plays with your ponytail the entire time.
Molly adores you because of how much the both of you bonded through food, she teaches you how to make Fred's favorite meal and she encourages you to stay over at the burrow as much as possible because to be honest, she likes how Fred is when you're around and Molly may or may not like you more than Fred.
Asks for messages after a rough Quidditch practice or games that usually elevate to something more... a.k.a sex.
He asks for your opinion on the joke shop products he and George have come up with but doesn't dare make you try them because he doesn't want to see you hurt or be embarrassed.
Dance party inside his shared dorm room with snacks when everyone is away and blaring out his phonograph with the weird sister's newest record player album.
Him sneaking into your shared dorm room quietly and frequently because he wants to sleep with you and not in his own bed, so it's not unusual for your roommates to see a shirtless Fred cuddling you in the morning.
Joking and confusing new people who don’t understand your relationship; Are you dating? Enemies? Friends? (but in the end, he can't keep his hands off you anyways so they're bound to know)
Him leaving all of his classes early just so he can meet you outside and escort you to your next class so he can have those extra moments with you.
Taglist:
@igncrantbliss @milivanili99 @thatdummy-girl
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Text
The Babysitter (37)
Meet Me In My Office
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MILF Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+
Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?
A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.
The Babysitter Master list | General Master List
Chapter 37- W/c 4.7k This chapter is entirely 18+ Smut
Tag list- @natsluttt @cerberus-spectre @dorabledewdroop @bibliophilicbi @hopelesslyfallenninlove @simpform1lfs @get-the-fuck-outta-here @natashaswife4125 @marvelwomen-simp @supercorpstan97 @aliherreraaa @aru-son @the-ox-fan20
Meet Me In My Office
A/N- Updates from now will be really slow regarding this fic as I was posting all the chapters from my AO3/Wattpad onto here and we have reached the final one prewritten. I am a college student with a busy life so apologies for the delays in writing. Enjoy the smut :)
---
As soon as the door was quietly and carefully shut behind you, Wanda's body was pressed up against yours, her hands cupping your jaw, tilting your head up to meet her lips in a sensual kiss. You softly moaned into the kiss, the two of you smiling into it as her thumbs stroked your cheeks, her mouth moving against yours languidly as you leaned into her body, revelling in the feeling of her body so close to yours. Your hands glided down her body, resting on her hips, fingering sliding through the belt loops of her jeans to tug her closer to you, a smile playing on your lips as she pulls back, eyes darkening as she lets her gaze scan across your features.
It had been a tiring and eventful week with the twins now home constantly, yourself and Wanda juggling work and caring for the boys which proved harder than the two of you predicted, leaving you to both trudge into bed with nothing more than an innocent goodnight kiss. Now however, you longed to feel her touch, to be driven mad by her and it was becoming abundantly clear that she felt the same way about you.
The kiss that was slow and intimate swiftly built as desire and arousal pooled between your thighs, Wanda's fingers threading through your hair, tugging your head where she wanted as her leg slotted between your thighs, pressing into your core in the most perfect way. A groan left you when she pulled back from the kiss, your hips subtly grinding against her thigh when her teeth bit down on your lower lip gently and dragged it back, eventually releasing it and peering into your eyes with the most seductive look, the green in her eyes replaced with pure hunger.
"Detka," she sighs out sultrily at the shell of your ear, kissing along your jaw to murmur into your ear as she knew how wet her voice made you. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" she groans lowly, accent wrapping around her words sinfully, your back arching off the wall to press further into her body, hips still slowly grinding against her leg, pleasure building in the pit of your stomach, "I can't get enough of you."
"Fuck Wanda," is all you can managed back in response, the older woman letting her kisses travel down the side of your neck, sucking faintly to leave a brief red mark before licking up a stripe against the column of your throat, smirking when she could feel the vibrations of your groan. "I need you," you practically whimper, not caring how pathetic you must sound, eyes begging her to do something, anything to you as her lips meet yours again, tongue effortlessly sliding into your mouth and swallowing your desperate sounds.
Her hands glide down your body as her tongue moves against yours, the kiss becoming lewd and messy as you mirrored her earlier actions, threading your fingers through her silky locks, keeping her close. You moaned into her mouth in surprise when her hands reached the back of your thighs, lifting you up and walking towards the bed as your legs wrapped instinctively around her waist, both of you smirking into the kiss. Gently, she lowered you onto the soft mattress, your hair sprawling behind you against the sheets as her body towered over you, eyes flickering between your eyes and lips as she lowered her mouth to ghost yours.
"Tell me what you want, Moya Lyubov," she husks out against your lips, nose brushing yours as she teasingly makes you try to chase her lips, smile turning dominant as she watches you part your lips, head tilting to try and catch her lips, eyes hazy with lust.
"You, just you," you sigh back, her leg returning to the spot between your thighs, firmly pressed against your core earning a moan in response, her eyes somehow darkening even more.
At your words, her mouth meets yours once more but this time it's different. It's hot, desperate and passionate but also loving and intimate, her conveying her love for you into it as she pours everything into the kiss, both of you moaning at the intensity of it. Your hands fist into the hem of her shirt, desperately holding her close as you get lost in the sensations of her addictive lips, touch, sounds. Fuck, she was just intoxicating.
Her fingers move to rest on the underside of your jaw, angling your head up for kiss after kiss as you gasp into each other's mouths, lips relentless as they refuse to part, your hips now comfortably grinding unabashedly against her knee, pleasure coursing through your mind.
"That's it Detka," she praises in a pant against you, eyes closed as she moves her kisses to your jaw, nibbling softly against the skin, sending a shiver down your spine as arousal continues to pool between your legs, panties well and truly soaked. "Use my thigh, that's a good girl," her tone a sinful murmur at your ear once more, a pathetic whimper escaping you.
"Wanda- Fuck," you moan out, hiding your face at the crook of her neck, lips attached to any bit of skin you can reach, mouth parting when she pushes her knee firmer against you for you to grind along, a string of desperate moans leaving you. You can hear her soft sighs and low moans as her body moves against yours, your hips frantically moving against her leg as you can feel the pleasure bubbling inside you, your orgasm swiftly approaching at her actions.
When a choked moan escapes you, clit brushing against her perfectly, Wanda moves her hand to your throat, guiding you away from her neck and forcing you to look into her eyes, submission evident in yours as hers radiate pure dominance. Your eyes flutter shut when another wave of pleasure washes through you, body teetering on the edge of your orgasm as her fingers remain applying a slight pressure to your throat, the older woman unable to stop thinking about how you were such a pretty mess for her.
"Please," you whine out, hands moving to her back, nails digging in through her shirt as you hold onto her as if your life depended on it, mouth crashing back to hers to try and muffle your moans as your hips start to lose their rhythm, moving uncontrollably against her.
"Please what?" she teases, knowing exactly what you want her to say.
"Wanda," you groan, fluttering your eyes open and pleading with her to just give you what you want.
"I want you to say it," she rasps out, moving one of her hands down your body to your hips, guiding you along her thigh, another moan being torn from the back of your throat.
"Please can I come?" you whimper, head lolling back against the mattress as you wait for her permission to come, wanting to be good for her. You always wanted to be her good girl.
"Come for me Detka," she whispers, mouth instantly claiming yours to muffle the guttural noise that leaves you, body crashing into a euphoric state as pleasure courses through you, hands clutching at her as your hips continue to rock against her. Wanda eagerly swallows up all the sinful sounds that leave you, her lips moving to your jaw as you struggle to kiss her back, lost for breath as your eyes flutter shut, body riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm.
Her hand moves from your hips to your hair, brushing the stray strands out of the way as your eyes slowly flutter open, her kisses travelling across your face as you smile against her into the next kiss, this once slower as you gradually recover.
"Good girl," she praises once again, smirking at the way your cheeks instantly turn red, an embarrassed noise leaving you, her slowly pushing her body up slightly, moving to straddle your waist, the sight of her on top of you, breasts in your face, swiftly causing the embarrassment to fade away, arousal consuming your body once more.
"So pretty," you mumble, kissing her collar bones as you sit up, fingers moving to the hem of her shirt, pulling on it impatiently as she smirks at your eagerness. Her fingers replace yours, hands tugging off the clothing item, leaving you to be amazed at the sheer beauty of her, the word Aphrodite floating around in your mind. Your hands move to the soft skin at the curve of her hips, still unable to comprehend how beautiful she was as your lips pepper hot, open-mouthed kisses to the top of her breasts, eyes peering up at her.
"You look so fucking hot under me, Detka," she purrs out, fingers threading through your hair and pulling your head back, your fingers inching their way up her back to the clasp of her bra, deftly unclasping it and pulling the red fabric off her. Wanda keeps her eyes on you as your gaze flickers to her exposed chest, an enamoured and lustful expression taking over your face as your hand moves to cup one of her breasts softly, mouth descending on the other.
A soft, sensual sigh escapes her at the feeling of your tongue swirling over her nipple, hand gently squeezing her other breast, warm and wet mouth having pleasure spiking through her body. You groan around her chest when her hips grind against your lap, her hands gliding across your shoulders, nails scratching down your back making you delirious with arousal.
"Fuck," she groans out sultrily, hand shooting up to the back of your head, keeping your mouth at her chest, "Do that again Detka- shit, just like that, right there," she moans, your teeth grazing her sensitive flesh before sucking on it, eyes looking up to watch her reactions.
After switching to the other breast and lavishing it in an equal amount of attention, Wanda tugs your head away from her chest, having had enough of the teasing as she needed to feel your bare skin against hers.
"Off. Now," she mutters against your lips, hands at the clothes you were wearing, her gracefully sliding off your lap to remove her own clothes, not having the patience to undress each other.
Almost immediately, her body is back on top of you, soft skin pressed deliciously against yours, your hands drifting down to her core, eager to please her. Just as your finger was about to slide through her dripping folds, her hand catches yours, fingers interlocking with yours, other hand copying the action with your other hand.
"Lay back for me," she whispers, smirk playing on her lips as she pins your hands above your head, her core resting above yours as you moan when you realise what she's about to do. "Spread your legs a little wider, Detka," she instructs, pressing her core against yours, both of you letting out a lewd noise at the warmth building in your cores.
"Wanda, you feel so good," you moan out, her body lowering, back arching her body into yours as her hips grind against yours, your hand squeezing hers. Her body rocks against yours, dragging all sorts of sinful sounds out of you as well as her, the feeling of your soaking cunt against hers driving the older woman crazy with desire, body chasing her orgasm. "Harder," you whimper out, the tone of your voice making a guttural groan leave Wanda, her lips crashing to yours to muffle the wanton noise that escaped her.
One of her hands releases yours to clutch the sheet near your head, bracing her body up as both of your hips start to stutter, the pleasure too much for the two of you to handle.
"Are you going to come for me again, Detka?" she pants out, tone teasing as she curses in Sokovian under her breath, lips lingering against your cheek as her hips press down harder against you, a whine leaving you. When all you can do in response is whimper, Wanda takes mercy on you, kissing you once more before resting her forehead against yours, "Yeah? Come with me, Moya Lyubov."
Pleasure crashed over the both of you at her words, your bodies grinding and rocking together as your orgasms wracked through you, moans spilling from your lips at the ecstasy you felt. Your fingers tightened against hers, wanting her close as she rests her bodyweight against you, catching her breath as your lips weakly meet her shoulder, exhaustion creeping up on you.
"Stay with me," Wanda whispers in a small chuckle, her fingers brushing over your cheeks as your eyes flutter open, meeting her softened green. "We need to clean up Detka, then we can sleep, I promise," she murmurs ever so softly, encouraging you to let her guide you into the bathroom to quickly clean yourselves up, her hands roaming your naked body innocently, simply giving you the touch you craved and giving into her want to touch you.
"I love you," you mumble against her shoulder as you lean against her, her arms snaking around your waist and pulling you into bed with her, neither of you bothered about pyjamas as you snuggle together. The feeling of her breasts pressing into you makes a small, drowsy smile to play on your lips, the older woman noticing the action as her fingers scratch your scalp softly, your head remaining at her shoulder as your arms wrap around her, fingers sliding up and down her back.
"I love you too," she whispers to your sleeping form as your body is lulled to sleep by her tender actions.
***
A soft chuckle woke you up, the feeling of your pillow beneath you moving gently causing your eyes to reluctantly flutter open, searching for the culprit who woke you up. You expect to see humoured green in front of you but are pleasantly surprised at the sight of Wanda's bare breasts, the annoyed expression fading into a shy smile, face nuzzling back against her chest as it was just so comfortable.
"I have to go to work soon Detka, I'm sorry but you have to move," she murmurs, placing a kiss to the top of your head as you grumble in defiance.
"Just take the day off," you mumble, earning an angelic laugh in response, her body shaking once again under you softly.
"I can't Detka," she apologetically whispers, fingers soothingly scratching your scalp naturally. "But how about this," she says, piquing your interest as you marginally pull away from her chest, looking up at her with tired eyes, "You let me go to work, dressed," her words playful earning a smile from you, "And when the twins go to Pietro's at two, you can meet me in my office," you watch how her eyes sparkle with an indecipherable emotion, your mind curious as to what she had planned. "Oh, and wear that small,black skirt of yours, it will make things a lot easier for me," her tone drops an octave at the end of her words, a small groan leaving you at her suggestive words.
Only seven hours till two...
***
Walking into the tower, you were amazed as always at the stunning architecture of the building Wanda worked in, gaze glued on the fancy interior of the elevator, watching as the floor numbers ticked by. Impatiently, you waited for it to finally reach Wanda's floor, excited and curious as to what she had planned out, her getting dressed in private this morning, something unusual. She loved to tease you in innocent ways like that, having you watch as she slowly pulled on her underwear or bra, eyes always trained on you with a teasing comment on the tip of her tongue, your mind curious as to why she didn't today.
Knocking on her door, you were soon met with a professional 'come in' from the other side of it, your hand eagerly opening the door. Your gaze landed on the figure sat behind the desk, eyes flickering away from her computer to look at you, smile widening as she slowly pushed herself off her chair, hips swaying as she sauntered over to you.
"Hey Detka," she whispers, pecking your lips before locking the door behind you, hands moving to your waist and carefully guiding you backwards towards her desk, your body eventually being pinned between her and the hard surface.
"Hi love," you murmur back in an equally affectionate tone, tilting your head up to steal another tender kiss.
Her eyes slowly take in your outfit, darkening significantly at the skirt you were wearing, gaze lingering on the teasing skin of your exposed thighs, her head snapping back up to meet your curious and excited gaze. Subconsciously, your tongue ran across your bottom lip, wetting it as you waited for her to make the first move, knowing roughly where this was going.
"Before we do anything Detka," she says, her hands resting on the desk beside your body, her taller stature towering over you, "I need to know if you're going to be quiet or if I'm going to have to gag you with something." Her words directly hit your core, cheeks flushing a deep red as her index finger rests under your chin, guiding your head back up to look at her as you momentarily avoided her gaze. "What's it going to be?"
"The gag... I think," you sigh out, hands holding onto her waist, her smirk almost predatory at your response.
"Remember your non-verbal safeword?" she mumbles into a kiss, wanting to feel your lips before she covers your mouth up, not wanting the whole office to hear you screaming her name.
"Tap your arm or thigh three times to stop," you whisper back, indulging in the messy kiss as her body presses into yours, an abrupt moan escaping you at the hard bulge you felt. "Is that..." Your words trail off as Wanda's hands lift you up onto her desk, lifting your skirt up to expose your panties, a visible wet patch already adorning the lace.
She hums in confirmation as her hand reaches over to the drawer of her desk, pulling out an old silk tie and showing it to you, watching your reaction closely as her hips slowly push up into yours, grinding the strap on hidden by her trousers against where you desperately needed her. When you nod, after another kiss of course, she ties it around your mouth and the back of your head, the fabric muffling your words as you test it's ability, the older woman satisfied with it.
"As much as I love your pretty moans Detka, I hope you understand why I'm doing this," she asks, fingers tracing the fabric around your mouth, lips briefly pressing against your temple. "I don't want my co-workers to know how much of a little slut you are for me," her words have you groaning around the tie, eyes fluttering shut as her hands glide down your body, fingers at your inner thighs, the back of them brushing your dripping core. Your reaction spurs Wanda on, her finger sliding your underwear to the side before gathering your arousal, slowly circling your clit to work you up even more.
"You love this, don't you?" she whispers at the shell of your ear, accent prominent as her thumb moves to circle your clit, letting her finger thrust into you, stretching you out and ensuring you were wet enough for the larger toy. "Being under my control, my beautiful girl to ruin," you moan around the black fabric, the noise dampened making Wanda smirk as she curls her finger inside you, warmth pooling in your core.
You muffle a plea around the gag, eyes staring into hers desperately as your hands clutch at her blouse, trying to pull her body closer. She gives in, not knowing how much time she'd have with you, and swiftly pulls the toy out of the restraining clothes, your eyes darkening as she positions it at your entrance, eyes searching yours for any hesitancy. When it's clear that there's none, she slides the toy into you slowly, revelling in the muffled sound of pleasure that escapes you, her hands going to your hips, holding you in place while your hands glide over her shoulders and settle on her back.
The slow pace quickly vanishes, her hips thrusting into you powerfully as she pounds the toy into you, the filthy sounds of your muffled moans, Wanda's sighs and the toy sliding in and out of you filling the room, adding to your arousal at how fucking hot this was. God, you had dreamed about being fucked on her desk but never thought it would happen especially like this. This was dirtier, hotter, more primal than you imagined as she fucked you like it was the last time. 
Her hips were relentless as she took you on her desk in an animalistic manner, mouth at your neck, sucking a mark she knows will taint your skin, the thought of everyone knowing you were hers thrilling.
Your nails dig into her back when she angles her hips differently, the strap on hitting your sweet spot with every addictive thrust, Wanda's mouth moving to your ear, letting you hear her laboured breaths and seductive sighs. Her teeth nibble on your ear lobe, earning a groan that turns into a choked moan when one of her hands tighten their grip on your hips, the other moving to circle your clit, hips bucking as she continues to mercilessly fuck you.
"You can take it," she rasps out at your ear at a whimper that leaves you, your orgasm swiftly building at her actions, your mind completely fogged with arousal, body burning with every single one of her touches, arousal coating the toy causing it to make a filthy sound with every snap of her hips. "You're doing so well for me," she praises, biting down on your neck as her kisses descended, your nails digging in harder as your body teeters on the edge of your first orgasm, Wanda knowing the signs of your body as your legs moving to wrap around her waist, trying to pull her closer and deeper.
"Please," you muffle around the tie, her lips parting from the newly formed mark on your neck to meet your desperate gaze, her hand moving from your hips to your neck, applying a firm amount of pressure as your eyes practically roll back.
"Come all over my cock, Detka," she purrs out, knowing what your needy gaze was asking her for, a loud muffled moan reverberating around the room as your head moves to the crook of her neck, body tensing and walls clenching around the toy, pleasure crashing through you as you come on her desk, hands clutching at her for support as wave after wave of euphoria floods through you.
"We're not finished yet," she murmurs into your ear, a low groan leaving you as the toy slips out of you, Wanda moving back to help you off the desk, roughly turning you around and bending you over the desk, a guttural noise escaping you.
Your mind can't comprehend the pure desire you feel, skin on fire as she slides your panties down your legs, lifting your skirt once more and positioning herself at your entrance once again. With one thrust, she's back deep inside you, your hands reaching for the end of her desk for support, one of her hands moving to your hair, making a makeshift ponytail and pulling gently, tugging your head back.
"Fuck," she groans at the sight of you, her core throbbing at what she was doing to you, her eyes trained on how the toy slid in and out of you, her free hand lightly spanking your ass, earning a small groan. "You're mine, aren't you," she pants out, pulling your body up, her chest pressed into your back, lips at your neck, your hands bracing your body upright on the table.
You nod your head at her words, mind spinning as pleasure overrides all your senses, head lolling back against her as your eyes convey your deliriously lustful state, eyes practically black with desire.
"All mine," she murmurs, the base of the toy brushing her clit perfectly with the new position, a low curse leaving her lips and fuck you think that's the hottest thing you've ever heard. Her hand returns to your throat, indulging in both of your fantasies as she applies a little more pressure, a deep groan leaving you as your hips push back against her, your second orgasm about to flood through you.
The feeling of her spanking you once more sends you over the edge unexpectedly, body tensing in her arms as she holds you upright, pressing you further into the desk as you rock against the toy buried deep inside you, a string of muffled moans filling the room. Your orgasm is prolonged by Wanda grinding the toy into you, the base of it rubbing against her clit as she chases her own orgasm, following swiftly after you as her hips soon start to slow.
The two of you remain in that position, leaning into each other and catching your breath as you recover from your powerful orgasms, Wanda gently turning you in her arms and untying your gag, lips instantly claiming yours for a soft, loving kiss.
"You ok Dorogaya?" she whispers, eyes searching yours making your chest fill with love. You adored how she could go from being so rough and dominant to so soft and caring, always making sure you were alright.
"I don't think I can walk," you reply honestly, earning a small chuckle from her, her lips pressing against your temple as she pulls out, helping you support yourself against her desk as she quickly discards the harness and toy in her ensuite to clean and move later before returning to you.
"That good, huh?" she teases, wrapping her arms around you and helping you to the sofa at the side of her large office, sitting with you as she fixes your hair, your body leaning against her side.
"Always that good," you sigh back, unable to comprehend the sheer ecstasy the older woman makes you feel, her arms a place of security as you relax against her.
"How about, after I've checked my emails one last time, we head home and have a nice relaxing bath to recover before the boys get home?" she muses, knowing that you were going to be tired after last night and today, her fingers tracing random patterns at your side, lips meeting your hair, lingering as she waits for an answer.
"That sounds perfect on one condition," you say, turning your head to meet her curious green, her entertaining you and raising one of her brows.
"I get to choose the bath bomb this time," you mutter, her chuckling at your answer, nodding inevitably to your command, always wanting to give you everything and more.
"Of course Detka, you can choose the bath bomb," she replies with a hint of teasing to her tone, not that you minded. "I love you," she whispers before getting up, fixing her outfit and quickly going to her desk as you do the same, waiting for her to finish.
"I love you too," you murmur, her arms soon wrapping around yours, ready to take you home. 
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