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#but that doesn’t mean I can’t still be disappointed about how it’s going and how they were simplified
feinv · 12 hours
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Got an idea for some John Wick angst! John is contracted to assassinate readers father (someone who isn’t really a part of whole High Table thing, so John isn’t known to reader or her father.)
While surveilling her father John can’t help but become intrigued by y/n, but he still has to kill her father, there are consequences if he doesn’t complete a contract. John finds himself still surveilling y/n after he completed the job, he has never felt so guilty and remorseful after a contract before as he watches her grief over her father. John knows he shouldn’t but he approaches y/n, becoming part of her life and inevitably developing a relationship as he helps her through the grief, which only worsens the guilt he is feeling, keeping this massive secret. Wondering how y/n might find out and her reaction to the discovery, that this man she trusted, the one she confided in and cried on his shoulder was the very man that took her fathers life.
john wick x gn!reader. angst. break up. some might find reader stupid.
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honestly i don’t think there is a way for you to find that out on your own. even if you hire like a private detective, high table has enough recourses to hide their tracks in a way an ordinary detective wouldn’t be able to do shit. so john is the one telling you when his guilt literally starts eating him alive, cuz every time he looks at you, all he can is your father taking his last breath as he emptied his gun into his head.
every thought you had running in your head at the moment vanished with no trace, your brain going blank as he confessed his sin to you.
you wanted to tell him it’ not something to joke about, because you would rather believe he had a terrible sense of humor than everything that left his mouth was true.
it wasn’t just about your father, it was the fact that he had the audacity to invite himself into your life and treat you like no men ever did, while also hurting you the way no men would ever hurt.
“and this was your plan? going after me to ease your own guilt? so you can be able to live with yourself?” you whispered, disappointment and pain etched into your voice, hot tears streaming down your face like a waterfall.
his heart swelled with sorrow at the state of you, none of his words worthy enough to be voiced out. he swore he would never let anything or anyone hurt you, and ironically, he was the one who hurt you most. “no. sweetheart, please. my love for you was- is genuine. that’s why i couldn’t bring myself to stay away from you.” he pleaded, begging you to believe him, but he knew it was a selfish thing to do after lying to you the whole time.
if i’m being honest, this isn’t something one would be able to forgive, so of course you broke up with him, with your final words “you wouldn’t do this to the person you loved,” before you shut the door, leaving him on the other side as you never wished to see him again.
BUT.
in another case scenario, it turns out your dad was a piece of shit and a nasty mean who did unspeakable things (idk what but it’s bad enough to not mourn him anymore) that is why john was hired to assassinate him. granted you were still in shock by the fact that he kept such thing a secret from you, and you developed slight trust issues, telling him that you need a brake from relationship. he would think he lost you forever, but all his worries would disappear soon because eventually you found your way back to him.
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iwaasfairy · 20 days
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drew some kaiju no 8 manga panels as anime becauseeee I wish this is what we got :<<<
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yanderenightmare · 6 months
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Ryomen Sukuna
TW: suggestive noncon, threats, Sukuna in general
gn reader
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Thinking about sorcerer ! reader – only instead of having a really offensive technique, it's purely defensive.
A power to pacify. Creating the ultimate stalemate. All attacks are nullified – people can’t even throw one measly punch your way.
– which obviously means you’re the ultimate babysitter for trigger-happy curses like Sukuna.
The only issue is…. you don’t at all behave in accordance with your technique. 
You are perhaps the most childish and bratty sorcerer he’s ever been forced to share air with. Even worse than that white-haired prick. Where with him – he could at least spar. But you? You just monitor him while making the most meaningless and ever-so-grating conversation.
“I read in an old book that you’re a cannibal.” You muse with a smile. Eyes vibrant with curiosity – playful even – as though the prospect of him eating human flesh shouldn’t be making your own skin run raw with goosebumps. “Is that true?” 
His brow raises at your eagerness. His mouth is a prim line before muttering an unenthusiastic. “Yes.”
“Really?” You jump. “Why? Does it taste good?”
It’s an awfully stupid question – he thinks with an ever-growing wrinkle furrowing his brows. But suppose explaining to you how it’s meant to strike fear into people’s hearts would only make you laugh.
He huffs.
“Tastes like meat.”
“Right~” You sing-song as though it was a satisfying answer – but then almost immediately add onto it. “So, like chicken or beef?” 
You really are such a nuisance, he thinks. Grumbling. “Pig.”
You hum – then smack your lips. And he feels another onset of annoyance – expecting another moronic query to come pouring gracelessly from your lips.
“You’re a little disappointing – you know that?” You say instead.
He picks his head up at that – finally looking back at you through the bars of his cell to where you sit opposite way on a chair – looking straight back at him, fearing no harm.
There are about a million seals covering the walls, keeping him trapped. Though you’d feel just as safe without them.
“I’d thought you’d have more to say, but…” You pout. “Turns out you’re just boring.”
His nose makes an offended scrunch – eyes narrowed. “Watch how you speak to me.”
You laugh – your chuckle in itself is something that makes the hairs at the back of his neck rise out of ire. That smug smile on your face enough to have his fists ball at his sides – and at the moment you lick your lips, saying, “Or what?” he’s already on his feet with his hands wrapped tight around the bars – knuckles turning white in his grip.
His skin sizzles from the cursed energy imbued in the metal – like holy water to a demon – and still, he doesn’t let go. Four eyes, blood red, glaring at you with a look that’s nothing short of deadly. If he could, you knew he’d have your heart in his hand forever ago. But the fact that he doesn’t – the fact that he can’t – only makes your grin ever sharper.
“Wow~” You tease. “Look at that face~” Giggling. “So scary~”
His nostrils flare as he releases the bars. Hands healed shortly after. “One of these days, brat – I’ll have you on your knees.”
You feign a gasp. “Sukuna~ so indecent~” Your grin lessens into a coy smirk. “To think the King of Curses is flirting with little ole me~” You bite your lip, looking kittenish – eyes amused while watching him recede into the dark of his cell.
You break from the act with another laugh.
Beginning anew. “I do have a question, though.”
“Naturally.” He mutters, stretching his arms – all four – one pair above his head and the other behind his back.
“Are you double-packed down there as well? The same with the rest of you? Or~”
His spine cracks between tensed shoulders – and you think, to be a thousand-year-old specter, he’s awfully easy to rile up.
But then he laughs – a throaty, low-tuned snicker that echoes against the cell walls. 
“As I said – one of these days…” He walks up to the bars again, his chin fitting through them. “You’ll find out.”
There’s another chuckle – his eyes slim with something that makes you feel naked. Suddenly flushed – smile gone – you watch him lick his lips.
“And to answer your next question, you insufferable brat.” 
You gulp.
“I think you’ll taste like peaches.”
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pedroshotwifey · 2 months
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Do you think you could write a nervous Joel fic... like he's older and a single dad and hasn't dated in a REALLY REALLY long time...but he's still really sweet, maybe he has to stop and eat reader cos he's about to cum too soon or something 🤷‍♀️😭
Hey, babe!! So I hope this is what you were hoping for! It's super tender and I did end up listening to Hozier for a good portion of it, so do with that information what you will 😅
Also, I kind of did something a bit different and wrote it more from Joel's perspective, but it's still in 2nd person (pronouns = you)! Pls lmk how you feel about it ❤
Pairing: Older Joel Miller x afab!reader
Tags/warnings: Age gap (not specified), piv sex, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, established relationship, (almost) premature ejaculation, accidental love confessions 🤭, self deprecating Joel™, big dick Joel™, kissing, stuff I'm probably forgetting
W/C: 1.9k
Summary: Your and Joel's first time together turns into so much more.
What Matters
“Are you sure, baby?” 
Joel watches as your eyes flick up to him, only kindness and patience in them. Even as you smile warmly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him to you, he still has a sense of cautiousness in his movements. You’ve probably lost track of how many times he’s asked you if you’re sure. 
“Yes, Joel, I’m sure,” you laugh breathily. 
You’re both lying in his bed, completely bare. There’s a soft summer breeze coming in through the window and rustling the sheer curtains. The sun’s going down, but just barely, causing a perfect golden hue to coat the room. He can’t help but think that you look even more gorgeous than usual in this lighting.
Joel tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he softly kisses your jaw and nuzzles up to you. He’s not stupid, he knows that you know he’s just trying to waste time, but you let him. You’re so fucking sweet like that. Always making him feel so wanted and appreciated. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you in this way, but that he’s worried he won’t be perfect for you. He wants to be able to show you affection in the same way that you show him. 
But what if he can’t?
You’re younger, after all, and he’s not been with a woman in so long. Maybe not since Sarah’s mom. If that’s the case, it’s been about fifteen, sixteen years. Point in case, you’re probably used to boys who can last longer and can make you come every time. What if he can’t? What if it’s been so long now, that he only lasts a couple of minutes? 
It terrifies him, the prospect that you may be disappointed in his performance. What if you decide to leave him because he’s not enough to get you off? No, he realizes, you would never do that. You’re so good, so thoughtful and generous and patient. You’d wait for him, help him get back to the point where he used to be. 
But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be good for you now. 
“Joel?” 
His name falling from your lips has his head raising back up. You look into his eyes with a desperation that he simply can’t ignore. 
“Please,” you whisper before planting a feather-light kiss to his lips. He nods slowly before he can think about it. 
“Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 
And he does, he knows it. He just hopes he can do it right. 
You’re already prepped. He spent probably half an hour fingering you to orgasm even though you had begged for the real thing each time you fell apart on his hand. It’s another thing he was worried about—being so big. Joel’s not a super cocky man by any means, but he is aware of his…attributes. 
He watches you carefully as he grasps his cock and guides it to your slippery entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes in, giving you about an inch each time he thrusts. His jaw goes slack once he’s about halfway in. You’re so fucking warm and wet and inviting. He keeps going, trying to keep his breathy whines at bay. He’s again reminded of just how long it’s been since he’s felt something other than the palm of his hand around himself. 
“Shit, baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out. He closes his eyes in concentration and lets his head hang next to yours. He already feels like he might blow his load at any second. You bring a hand up to cup his head and thread his curls through your fingers, holding him close. His breathing is heavy when he lifts himself back up to look into your eyes. 
His heart seems to skip a beat when he sees the adoration you’re looking at him with. It kills him every time. And no matter how many times you tell him that he deserves all your affection, he knows he’ll still find a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. There’s a reason the two of you have only been “together” for about four months even though you’ve been shamelessly flirting for about a year. 
It was just too good to be true. For such a sweet, gentle thing like you to want a rough old man like him. He was never the one to initiate anything, but he knows you’ve been aware that he had his sore eyes set on you since you met. How could he not? He’s never met anyone so kind and considerate. It was impossible to deny you of him any longer when it was one of the only things you’ve ever wanted for yourself. 
“You okay?” Your honeyed voice reaches his ears—or his good ear, rather—and he smiles at you. 
“‘Course, baby. Jus’ gotta give me a second, alright?” He can feel his cheeks getting a bit rosy at the confession. “It’s been a minute.” 
You nod, still no hesitation or any sign of regret. God, what did he do to deserve you? 
Once he collects himself, he pulls out just barely, and a groan tumbles from his mouth to mingle with your soft moan. He’s already starting to sweat from the effort of not coming too soon as he starts to push into you at a slow but rhythmic pace. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and tuck your head into his chest as you whimper with his thrusts. 
“You feel so good,” you whine. 
“Fuck, sweetheart, so d’ you. “Like goddamn heaven.” And you do; overwhelmingly so.
He cradles your head and lowers the two of you even more to deepen his thrusts. He knows he’s found your spot when your breath catches and you start to tighten around him every time he pumps his hips. Unfortunately, this makes it a lot harder for him to keep his composure. 
“H-honey, I have to pull out,” he grits out. He’s so embarrassed, it hasn’t even been five minutes. He won’t last long enough for you to come before him.
But you just nod into him, even though you must be devastated by the loss of your orgasm. “It’s okay, Joel,” you breathily assure him. 
He pulls out and squeezes the base of his cock, out of breath. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he starts to apologize.
“I’m sorry, baby, I—” 
“Joel,” You stop him by carefully grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay.” You nod, waiting for him to do the same before you continue. “Take as much time as you need. I love you no matter what. This does not determine—” 
You both realize what you said at the same time. Joel’s eyes widen and his chest feels like it caved into itself. Your lips stay still, parted in the middle of your sentence. Joel doesn’t realize tears have gathered in his eyes until his vision starts to blur and a smile spreads across his face. 
You love him. You said it. And he believes you. 
“I love you too, baby,” he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours. “So damn much.” Fuck his age and whoever might see a problem with you being together. He wants this, and you want this, and that’s all that matters. 
Then you’re both laughing shakily, pressing kisses to each other’s lips. He only stops to start trailing them down your body instead, watching you writhe as his mustache tickles your bare skin. 
“Joel, p-please,” you beg quietly. Joel just huffs a small laugh through his nose as he lays himself between your legs, ignoring his protesting knees as he admires the entirety of you laying out just for him. You look fucking beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat atop his sheets, needy and panting all for him. 
He doesn’t waste too much time before putting his mouth on your sweet pussy, his tongue dragging up your slit to flick at your clit. Joel moans at your taste, sending vibrations racing toward your swollen bud. Your hips buck as your hands fly to grasp at his hair, tugging lightly and making his eyes roll back. 
He feasts on you like his life depends on it, worshiping you with all he has. He takes turns in running his tongue up you, fucking you with it the best he can, and suckling on your clit. He looks like a damn mess as he does so, his eyes not leaving your cunt unless he’s watching your face contort with pleasure. When you make eye contact with him, he knows he must look fucked out and desperate just based on the way you groan and lay your head back. 
It doesn’t take much for you to get to the edge, and it takes even less for him to push you over. You let out sharp, whiny sounds as he sucks on your clit and slips a couple of fingers inside of you to grip on to. Your entire body goes tense, and Joel has to resist the urge to smirk against you as you shake with the force of your orgasm. 
By the time you’re coming down, he’s back over you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth to share your taste. You moan into the kiss and pull him closer as he once again glides his tip into your cunt. Just as he had hoped, the distraction calmed him down enough to hopefully give him some more time. 
You both melt into each other as he bottoms out, the tip of his swollen cock hitting your cervix and making your thighs squeeze his torso. He starts at a faster pace than last time, too deep in his lust-filled haze to even try to slow down now. 
You pull away from his mouth to start leaving love bites on his neck, making his cock twitch inside of you with each pinch. He can feel you smile against his skin, and knows that you’ve found his secret. He does like a little pain with his pleasure. You keep going, sucking and biting marks before licking soothingly over them and moving to the next spot. You taste him like you’re addicted, like you could never possibly get enough.
It still doesn’t take him as long as he would like to before he starts to feel his balls drawing up and his thighs start to shake. His head goes foggy as he tries to hold on for you, but it’s too fucking much. He can’t hold it off when you feel so good around him. It’s like torture to stave off his orgasm when he’s thrusting into your soft heat. 
“Where d’ you want me, honey?” Joel asks you, his voice strained. 
“Inside,” you whisper against his neck without a second thought.
And it throws him over. He groans your name as his body stutters and his balls empty, coating your walls with his milky spend. It seems to go on forever. Each time he thinks he’s almost done, there’s another spurt and another wave of pleasure that tugs him deeper into euphoria. 
When it does end, he lets himself half-collapse on top of you. You embrace him with welcoming arms and the two of you catch your breath together in the now dark bedroom. He only pulls out once sleep threatens to take the both of you. A shower, snack, and a glass of water later, you both snuggle up together and fall asleep with content smiles and full hearts. 
*****
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toxicanonymity · 10 months
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needs
3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader
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joel master list
Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.
A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prequel), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6), but can read alone.
WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.
“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.
He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .  
-------
It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous.  He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.
Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it.  He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable. 
He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you.  Of course it would.
-
You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too.  He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun. 
It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you. 
“Can I see it?” you ask. 
“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”
“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?” 
It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.
“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate.  “Can ya gimme a second, honey?” 
“Okay.”  He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away.  “Now?”
“No.  Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make. 
“What do you mean”
“Just trust me, it’s not how you wanna see it.” 
“Why?" 
“Cause it ain’t as. . .”
“Ain’t as what?”
“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”
“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer. 
He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.” 
When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.” 
He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”  
"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"
Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs. 
After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"
"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."
You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper. 
He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."
You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions. 
——
He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly.  Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad.  If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop. 
You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway. 
Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like.  Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit. 
—--
“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft. 
He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach.  You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste. 
“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily. 
“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”
“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips.  He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch. 
Then, your lips wrap around the head.  He inhales sharply through his teeth.
“Did I hurt you?” you ask.
“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”  
 You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more. 
“Oh god damn,” he breathes.
You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating. 
He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.
“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs. 
“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees.  In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel. 
“Can I taste that, too?” you ask. 
“Yeah,” he nods. 
You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum.  It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.
“Like it,” you whisper.
“Yeah? take all ya want.” 
You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your teeth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.
“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” 
You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop. 
“Good girl,” he sighs and  cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.
All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.
It’s not a want. It's a need.  You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it.  You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.
You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.
----
One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief.  He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.
On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on.  But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it.  “Good girl, that’s real good,  honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”
God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away.  Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body.  He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep. 
"God have mercy," he mutters to himself. 
He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.  
"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.
He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change. 
When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself. 
"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.
"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair. 
"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."
"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all." 
"I know." 
"Have a good dream?"
You sigh. “Yeah.”
“‘bout what?”
“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all. 
“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”
“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs. 
"You want a hand?"  
“Yeah.”
“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass.  "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?" 
You're quiet. 
"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"
“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.” 
“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit. 
He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.” 
“Okay.”  You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down. 
—-
"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats. 
“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact.  He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.
"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.
"Yeah," 
He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"
"You put it between my legs." 
He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit. 
You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"
"No, you put it inside," you whisper. 
Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.
——
“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes. 
Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”
“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.  
Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”
“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’
“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.
“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."
“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp. 
“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip. 
“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.”  You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him.  “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you. 
You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.” 
“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”
“Too big?”
“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”
He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”
You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.
“you like havin’ me in here?”
“I love it,” you say. 
“As much as the dream?”
“More than the dream.”
“What happened next?” he asks
“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”
“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”
“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”
He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”
“Felt so good, like a massage”
“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”
“And warm”
“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that. 
He begins to slowly move again and you whimper.  You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good. 
"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time. 
"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes.  His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”
You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”
You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.
“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”  
His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty. 
—-
He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”
You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.
“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer.  He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.”  You turn around and face him.  “You okay, honey?”
You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.
His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath.  He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.”  He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod.  He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.
-----
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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. There's a virgin section on my joel master list right above the one shots. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.
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All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @
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verstappen-cult · 3 months
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I would LOVE a part two of the birthday drabble if ur open to that? maybe how max tries to ask for reader’s forgiveness? maybe asking Charles for help but he’s just like “no u gotta figure it out on ur own this time buddy” bc he’s mad at him too?
PART ONE. Max totally blanks on your birthday plans and it’s not pretty.
Max is pacing around the kitchen when you wake up the next morning. When his gaze snaps up to meet yours, you can see the bags under his eyes. You think about reaching for him when you remember what happened, so, you simply walk past him to make some coffee.
“Good morning, schat.” He whispers, looking down. You’re still very much hurt but seeing him like this breaks your heart. 
Maybe you’re being too mean, giving him the cold shoulder and not even meeting his eyes, but you also think about what your best friend said last night when you called her crying. He needs to sort out his priorities and give you what you deserve. And you also need to stand up for yourself, you’ve let Max get away with similar things in the past and it’s time for that to stop. 
“Good morning,” Charles says as he enters the kitchen. He looks at Max but doesn’t say anything when he sees his eyes filled with tears. You’re hurt but he’s angry. “Want me to drive to your appointment?” 
“Mmh.” You nod, taking your cup of coffee and going back to your room. 
Charles opens the fridge and tries to look busy waiting for Max to get the fuck out of the kitchen. But that doesn’t happen and he is forced to close the door and face his boyfriend. 
“Have you talked to her?” Max asks him, rubbing his hand over his face. 
“Yea’,” Charles simply answers, trying to choose between an apple or banana for breakfast. You or Max are the ones always cooking because Charles just can’t do it, but you’re not in the mood to make breakfast and he’s definitely not gonna ask Max. “I’m not the one who fucked everything up.” 
“I’m sorry, okay? I just—I didn’t forget, but there were—”
“I don’t fucking care, Max. It was her birthday! It was supposed to be special but instead of enjoying the one day—the only day she really asks for our attention, she cried all the way home.”  
Max feels like crying again. He feels awful but doesn’t know what to do to make things better. 
The Dutchman opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Charles holds his palm up, shutting him up. 
“I won’t tell you what to do, you need to figure that out by yourself.” 
Charles storms out of the kitchen, leaving a sad Max behind. 
You don’t say goodbye when you leave but Charles, at least, tells him that they should be home by eight, to not wait for them because they will be having lunch together. He doesn’t ask Max if he wants to join. 
Max doesn’t know what to do. 
You’ve never been this angry before. Charles is a different story, they’ve been racing their whole lives together, so, he has seen parts of Charles you don’t even know. 
Max thinks about calling his mom to ask her for advice, God, even calling his sister, but rejects the idea because he knows what they will say. 
It’s all his fault. Stupid Max, stupid SimRacing—
Max gets up from the couch, he doesn’t know how much has passed since you left, but the sun is already sitting down. 
When Max enters his streaming room he wants to cry again. And he does. 
He cries as he disconnects everything. He cries when he smashes the camera onto the floor. He cries while throwing a chair across the room, crashing against the wall. He cries looking at the mess he made, the mess he is.
Max falls to the floor and cries, and cries, and cries, until he feels two strong arms around him and soft words spoken into his ear. 
“Max, breathe with me, please,” Charles begs, caressing his back and lifting his chin up with his free hand. Max’s gaze focuses on his face as he imitates his boyfriend, inhaling and exhaling slowly. It takes some time, but Max eventually stops shaking. “Oh, Max. What did you do?” Charles sounds so broken and disappointed, Max doesn’t want him to feel like that. He’s done so much already. 
Max starts crying again. 
“Shh, it’s okay,” Charles wipes his tears and kisses his eyelids. 
Max doesn’t deserve this. 
“Hey, love.” Max turns his head around at the sound of your voice. You crouch down next to him, a soft smile dancing on your lips. “Would you drink this, please? For me?” He doesn’t need to be asked twice. You guide the glass to his lips and he drinks the water — with a little bit of sugar you always add when you’re not feeling okay. 
Max wants to talk, he wants to apologize again, he wants to scream at you and Charles for being so attentive with him when he doesn’t deserve it. But he feels so tired, all he can do is lean into your touch when you cradle his face with both your hands, palms comfortable against the stubble on his cheeks. 
“We’re gonna buy new things and me and Charles will help you set everything up, okay?”
Max wants to scream. Instead, he barely has the voice to say, “I don’t want any of this. I fucked up because of this stupid shit.”
“Max,” Charles calls his name, moving around so he’s sitting next to you. “You love it.”
“I love you more.” He simply says, looking between you and Charles. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…” He lets silent tears fall down his cheeks. 
“I know you’re sorry.” You lean to leave a kiss on his forehead, then, you look directly into his eyes. “I’m still hurt, Max. I won’t lie. We need to have a long conversation, the three of us, but I don’t want you to quit something that you love and enjoy so much. I just,” You notice you’re crying when Max wipes the tears with his thumb. “I want to be a priority in your life.”
“And you are!” He wants to smash his head onto the floor. “God you,” He takes your hand, lips quivering. “and you,” He takes Charles’s hand then. He guides them to his chest, just where his heart is. “are the most important people in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
There’s still so much to say but, for right now, you just want to be as close as possible. You’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to go from here.
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scientia-rex · 3 months
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I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.
I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.
You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)
I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)
Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.
The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.
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f1goat · 17 days
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roommates ; lando norris + part six
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In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.
masterlist - playlist
lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: smut & not proofread
You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry when you hear the girl talking to Lando. He’s barely responding to her, but still. It’s so clear to you. Lando doesn’t care about you. That silly crush of yours? You need to get rid of it. How faster, how better. When they walk inside the living room, it doesn’t take longer then a second for Lando to see you sitting on the couch. 
While Lando is busy staring at you and thinking about what to say, you can’t stop looking at the girl he bought home with him. Is it bad that she kinda reminds you of yourself? She’s wearing the same sort of dress you were wearing on your ‘date’ with your ex. Her hair is the same color and about as long as yours. It must be a coincidence. 
Lando feels so ashamed right now. The night he goes for the most pathetic way, is the night you see it happen. Fucking hell. He hasn’t drunk enough to handle with this. When he saw Emily earlier at the club, at least if he got her name right, he could only see the dress she’s wearing. Exactly like yours from earlier. Then he saw how she had some other things that reminded him of you. It felt like the only solution for tonight. 
“Uh,” Emily clearly feels the tension between Lando and you. “She’s not your girlfriend right?” She asks awkwardly. 
“No,” you quickly reply. 
Lando doesn’t even know what to say. He can only feel ashamed right now. Fuck. You keep looking at Emily and him. He knows that you see it as well, it’s not hard to miss that Emily looks like you. This is embarrassing. It feels even more embarrassing that she’s a cheap knockoff compared to you. He lets out an annoyed sigh. Fuck, he really fucked things up with this. 
Now that he thinks about it, he wonders why he even brought the girl home with him. How longer he looks at her, how less she reminds him of you. Tonight was about proving that you’re wrong, not about proving the other way around. Why did he even bring her with him? It’s desperate, really.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” you softly say while standing up from the couch. Is it that bad that you’re disappointed in this? You feel like some sort of fool. Why did you even wait up? Why did you want to know about this? You feel yourself getting more sad with the second. Slowly you walk away. When you walk past Lando, he’s quick to grab your shoulder. It makes you even more sad. 
“Don’t leave like this,” he softly says, “Let’s talk.”
You feel the anger running through your veins right now. You aren’t thinking about what you’re saying right now. “I don’t think your girlfriend is here to talk,” you sneer to him, “and neither am I. Not anymore at least.”
“Let me explain,” Lando pleas with a soft voice.
“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you state, “We’re nothing. It’s not like we’re friends or anything. You lied to me before, I don’t trust you anymore. We’re even less then nothing now.”
“Don’t act like this,” Lando replies. You see the pain in his eyes, but for now you don’t care about that. He did this to himself. He’s the one who bought her home, not you. If it’s up to you he feels all kind of pain right now, he deserves it. 
“Don’t act like what?” You ask annoyed, “Can’t I tell you that we’re not friends, or anything else? Or can’t I tell you that I don’t care about you? You do you Lando. I really don’t give a fuck. So go have sex with your new girlfriend over here.”
“Shut up,” Lando groans. 
“Or what?” You reply angrily. 
“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” Lando continues. 
“I mean every word of what I just said,” you lie. Of course you don’t mean anything about it. You thought that Lando and you were finally becoming friendly with each other, you even hoped for more. Fuck this is really bad. It even pains you to say those words to him, but you don’t feel like you have another choice. 
“Stop lying,” Lando says with a louder voice this time. He almost seems angry this time. The frustration is obvious. 
“I don’t care Lando. Do whatever you want, go fuck with her or another girl. I really don’t care about it,” you tell him with the same frustration, “just make sure that you’re not moaning out my name again.” 
“Shut up,” Lando groans. The angry undertone in his voice is getting more clear now. You match it.
“Make me,” you reply angrily. 
You’re painfully aware about how close Lando and you are standing towards each other. He isn’t holding your shoulder anymore, but you feel every breath of him on your face. At this moment you want nothing more then for Lando to snap. It feels like you’re pretty close to make that happen. You wonder what will happen next. Will he scream at you? Or would he shut you up another way? Some way you prefer?
Lando takes a step closer towards you. His nose is almost pressed against yours. The space between to two of you gets only smaller. You wonder if you need to say something else, but then Lando continues to talk. 
“You want me to shut you up?” He asks you. His voice isn’t angry anymore, it doesn’t even seems frustrated anymore. It’s almost scarily calm for what’s happening. You notice how Lando doesn’t look away from you. The girl he bought home with him is still here, but it seems like Lando has forgotten about her. Not that you mind. Why hasn’t she left yet anyway?
“Yes,” you state boldly. 
Lando doesn’t think about the possible outcomes of his next movement. He stops thinking about everything he wants to do right now and for once just does something. Still annoyed and frustrated with the whole evening - and mostly with himself, he finally snaps. He grabs your waist, and pulls you almost into himself. Before you can react he lifts up your chin with a soft, but forceful movement. He gives you one last look in the eyes before closing his own eyes and slamming his lips against yours. 
You didn’t expect him to do this. Fuck, you really didn’t. But it’s insane how good it feels. Lando his lips are soft, even softer then you thought they would be. His kiss reflects the way he’s feeling, it’s messy but it does fit the moment. You can probably kiss him like this for the rest of the night.  And many nights more. If he would let you. Maybe it isn’t Lando who doesn’t support that idea, it’s the girl from earlier who distracts you from each other. 
“What the fuck!” She loudly screams. “Why did you even bring me here?” She continues to ask, “This is fucking insane.” 
“Just leave,” Lando sighs annoyed. He doesn’t move away from you in the mean time. You’re still trapped in his arms. Without saying a word, but with a small grin plastered on your face, you watch everything amused. It seems like she doesn’t want to leave like this. The girl is still fuming and making all kind of remarks at Lando. While he only tries to get her to leave. 
Eventually Lando needs to let go of you to walk her outside. You still hear her screaming in the hallway. It makes you giggle. Of course, it’s bad that Lando treated her like this - but for once, you’re glad about it. It would be way worse if he fucked her. You hear the front door close, after that there’s a peaceful silence. No more screams from the girl. No more arguments between Lando and you. 
When Lando returns to you, he’s busy thinking about what to do next. Should he continue with what he was doing? Or should he apologize? He has no idea what you think about all of this. What if he kissed you without you agreeing with it? When he sees you leaning on the wall and waiting for him with a small, but really satisfied grin plastered on your face, Lando is quick to forget about all his worries. He rushes himself back to you, only to press his lips on yours for the second time that night. 
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he grunts after pulling back.
“Says you,” you reply softly.
Lando doesn’t reply verbally this time. He softly pins you against the wall and presses his lips against yours for the third time tonight. Now that he knows how it feels to kiss with you, he never wants to stop with it. He can’t miss this feeling. 
You can safely state that you have never been kissed better then this. It’s not like you want to give yourself hope, but Lando kisses you like there’s no-one else he ever wants to kiss again. You can only hope that it actually is that way. Mainly because you’re sure that you never want to kiss anyone else again if it isn’t Lando. 
“Fuck Lan,” you softly whimper when he pulls back again. 
He looks at you. The way he stares at you makes you shiver. His eyes pierce through yours. “What babygirl?” Lando asks you. He’s afraid that you have come to your senses, that he should stop this. You probably don’t want this, he guesses. 
“Don’t stop,” you softly tell him with red cheeks. 
“Sorry, I’ll stop,” Lando mutters a bit disappointed. You show him a confused look, didn’t he hear you? You don’t even know why he’s thinking about stopping. The only good thing about him mishearing you, is that he seems disappointed to stop. That’s interesting. 
“I said don’t stop,” you tell him a bit louder this time. 
This time it’s Lando who shows you a confused look. He has no idea what’s happening to him. Before he can even ask if you’re sure, you already surprise him again. This time it’s you who pulls him closer towards yourself. Lando doesn’t even know what’s happening anymore. It seems like you do want this as well? He thought you lost yourself in the moment, but now he’s not so sure about that anymore. 
He can’t help himself anymore now. His tongue is inside your mouth and battling yours for dominance. Lando can’t hold himself back. If this is the only night he’ll experience this, he needs to experience as much of you as he can. When you let out a soft moan during making out with Lando, it only arouses him more. He feels his pants tighten around a particular spot. Softly he pins you against the wall again. He removes his lips from yours, only to connect them with your neck. 
It makes you let out a soft moan. How is Lando making you feel like this in only a matter of time? You must be losing your mind. Your focus is quick to disappear when Lando his hands start to explore your body as well. His hands are everywhere, at least that’s how it feels like. 
“Let me make it up to you,” he eventually tells you. 
“Make it up to me?” You ask confused. What’s he talking about. 
“For bringing her home,” Lando confesses, “I really shouldn’t have done that.”
Slowly you nod. “That’s a lot to make up for,” you softly say. 
Lando nods as well. “Thank god we have a lot of time,” he jokes. You show him a small grin. That’s enough confirmation for him right now. Within seconds he picks you up. You’re surprised about his strength. He’s actually walking you to his room like this. When you reach his bedroom, Lando softly drops you onto his bed. He joins you on the bed, hovering above you while pressing kisses on your cheeks, forehead, nose and every other spot he can find to press his lips against. 
It takes you a lot to withhold yourself from letting out loud moans whenever Lando does something. When Lando kisses you against your neck and softly sucks on a small bit of your skin, you can’t hold them back anymore. You let out a loud moan. 
“Lan,” you softly whimper.
“You better keep calling me that,” Lando softly tells you. You show him a small smile. He let himself down on the bed next to you. You’re quick to move yourself closer towards Lando. Within a couple seconds you have yourself pressed up against him again. Lando looks at you full lust. “Needy babygirl?” Lando asks you. 
You can only nod. You feel your cheeks redden up. It almost feels embarrassing, but you really can’t stop feeling like this right now. The things Lando is doing to you, while almost doing nothing to you, are actually insane. Lando moves himself again. This time he positions himself sitting right next to you. Softly he pulls you up as well. He toys with the hem of your sweater, looking at you with questioning eyes while doing so. You show him a small nod, hoping that he understands the hint. He does. Slowly Lando pulls off your sweater. 
When he sees that you’re wearing nothing underneath your sweater, he softly gasps. “Fuck babygirl,” he mutters while looking at your boobs. He notices the way your nipples have hardened, he wants nothing more then to put them into his mouth. For now he withholds himself from actually doing so. He does however move his attention towards your leggings. Suddenly he can’t think about anything else then seeing you naked. 
It’s you who is quick to discard the leggings you were wearing. Lando can’t believe his eyes when you start to pull of the leggings. When the leggings have joined your sweater on the floor, Lando can’t stop staring at you anymore. Softly he lets his hands wander over your body, stopping by your string. After this there’s no way back. Not that he can trust himself to stop now, but after seeing you completely naked he’s sure that he can’t stop anymore. 
You let out a soft moan when Lando traces your string with his fingers. “Take it off please,” you beg Lando. 
“Sure babygirl?” Lando asks you, “Because I don’t think I can stop myself anymore after seeing you naked.” He needs to know for sure that you want this as well. 
“Please,” you continue to beg, “Just take if off already.”
Lando doesn’t need to know anything else for now. He is quick to pull down your string. When he tosses it on the floor as well, he can’t tear his eyes of you. You’re beautiful. Words are leaving his mouth rather quickly, he can’t even think about what he’s saying anymore. 
“You look so beautiful,” he murmurs. You show him a small smile. “Imagined this for years,” he grunts, “You look even better then in my dreams.” Is Lando confessing that he dreamt about you? What’s going on? “Can I touch you?” Lando suddenly asks you, you’re quick to stammer out a yes. 
Lando is quick to come into action after hearing your yes. Suddenly he’s everywhere at once. You feel him exploring your naked body. His lips are pressing kisses on your neck, but he’s fast to move down lower. Eventually he reaches your boobs. He sends you one more asking look to know you’re sure about this, which you are quick to confirm to. After that Lando closes his lips around one of your nipples, while softly kneading your other tit. It causes you to let out a loud moan, something that Lando seems to like. 
Everything is getting to much for you rather quickly. It’s been a while since the last time you’ve had sex and with a thin walled room next to Lando, masturbating wasn’t one of your options lately. The way Lando discovers your body is making you lose your mind. You need to feel him as well. You start to toy with the hem of his shirt, trying to make clear to him that he should take it off. Lando doesn’t budge. 
When Lando moves down on your body again and presses kisses against your lower stomach, you’re sure that you’ll be losing your mind. When one of his kisses is almost pressed against your cunt, you almost let out a scream. Fuck it’s actually insane how much you need him to do something to you. Who would have thought that Lando is the one who can make you feel like this? Now that you think of it, you’re not that surprised. 
“Ohh Lan,” you softly moan out when Lando gets even closer towards your more private parts. Lando lets out a low groan. “I need to taste you,” Lando grunts. 
“Please do,” you moan. 
That’s all Lando needed to hear. He dresses himself down in no time. His shirt and pants join your clothes on the bedroom floor. Then he spread your legs for himself. “Such a pretty cunt,” Lando softly mutters while looking at you. He really can’t believe that this is happening. 
“Do something,” you softly beg. 
Lando doesn’t wait any longer anymore. He presses kisses against your cunt in a taunting slow pace. It makes you crazy. “More,” you whimper. Lando listens to you. Like some sort of madman he starts to lick your pussy. His tongue is everywhere at once. You don’t even try to hold back your moans anymore. They are leaving your mouth again and again. It seems that Lando likes it as well. 
“You’re making such pretty sounds for me,” Lando tells you adoringly. It gives you a warm feeling on the inside. You’re probably red already, but otherwise you’d be sure that this would be the reason. “Such a good girl,” Lando continues to praise you. 
Lando slowly lets one of his fingers slide inside of you. Moving it in a rather fast pace while connecting his lips to your clit. Softly he sucks it inside of his mouth. When he releases, you let out a loud moan again. You feel your orgasm getting closer. 
“Fuck me,” you try to order Lando. 
Lando stops his movements. “Fuck you?” He asks you confused.
“I need to feel you inside me,” you confess. 
“What about asking nicely?” Lando asks you teasingly. He always thought you’d be a bit of a brat and it turns out that he’s right. However, what he didn’t expect was how easily it would be to turn you into a begging mess.
“Please Lan,” you beg him without even thinking about it. “Please let me feel you fill me up,” you continue, “Please fuck me.” Begs are leaving your lips like prayers. Lando has never felt so aroused in his life before. He always thought it would be different with you, more intense for sure, but he didn’t expect it to be this much better with you. He’s still wearing his boxers, but he has never felt this close to an orgasm before. You’re making him lose his mind. 
Lando already knows that when he has felt you around his cock for the first time, there’s no one else who would ever feel better around it anymore. He knows for a fact that when he fucks you, he ruins sex for himself for the rest of his life. But still, that doesn’t stop him from pulling down his boxershorts and letting his cock spring to freedom. 
You’re greedily grabbing his boner, needing to feel it in your hands before he puts it inside you. Slowly you stroke his dick, Lando lets out a loud moan. It feels good to pull a sound like this out of him. You want to hear every sound you can get out of him. 
“Princess,” Lando grunts, “You have to stop doing that, otherwise I’ll cum before even fucking you.” 
“Then what are you waiting for?” You ask Lando. Fuck, you feel like a brat but you can’t stop yourself. You never felt like this before. No one ever made you feel like this. Lando can only grin when he hears your remark. 
“Always thought you would be a brat,” he tells you with a dangerously low voice. It makes you even more turned on. “Sorry,” you whimper.
“Never apologize for that babygirl,” Lando is quick to reassure you, “I always liked the thought.” Before you can react again, Lando continues to talk. “And I always liked the thought of you being my brat even more,” he confesses. You don’t know what to say. At this moment you don’t have to say anything, Lando comes closer towards you and starts to line up his cock with your entrance. 
“You still want this?” Lando asks you.
“Please,” you beg.
That’s all Lando needed to hear. He pushes himself inside of you. Within seconds he’s setting a ungodly pace. You can’t even think straight anymore right now. The only thing that’s in your mind is how good Lando is fucking you. Sex never felt like this before. You wonder if anyone else will ever make it feels like this. You don’t think so. Lando is probably ruining you. And you would let him do it again every time he wants to. 
“Fuck,” you whimper when you feel your orgasm reaching again. Lando makes all kind of sounds in the mean time. You love every single one of them. Every small or big grunt, moan and groan makes you even more aroused. 
“You feel fucking perfect,” Lando groans. He increases his pace even more. “I’m so fucking close,” he adds almost ashamed. 
“Me too,” you confess.
Lando didn’t lie about how close he already was. He feels himself almost crashing down because of his upcoming orgasm. He tries to fuck you as hard as he can manage, pushing and pulling in and out of you with a rapid pace. “Fuck,” you almost scream when Lando keeps increasing his pace. “I’m coming,” you tell Lando pretty quickly after that.
You feel the orgasm washing over you. It’s never been as intense as now. Lando tries to pull himself back, remembering for the first time that he didn’t use any kind of protection. Your legs are firmly wrapped on his body, you’re not letting him go. 
“Pill,” you softly explain. Lando nods and pushes himself deeper back into you. He feels his load coming out of him and entering you. 
“Fucking hell babygirl,” Lando grunts a couple minutes later when he feels more relaxed again. His orgasm has left his body. He feels calm again. “That was,” Lando starts a sentence he doesn’t know how to finish. It was so many things, mind-blowing, the best sex of his life and he can go on like this. 
“A mistake,” you finish his sentence. You already feel sad about the words you just said, but you know that it’s for the better to call it a mistake. “This can’t happen again,” you sigh. 
Lando doesn’t know what to think right now. “A mistake?” He asks you confused, “Was it that bad?”
“No,” you’re quick to deny, “I think, no I know that this was the best sex I’ve ever had. But we can’t do this again Lando, I’m not the one for one night stands.”
“I never called this an one night stand,” Lando is quick to tell you. “Let’s talk tomorrow about this babygirl. I want to sleep and I want you next to me.” 
It’s probably the most stupid thing you can do, but you agree to Lando his wishes. You let yourself fall asleep next to Lando. He cuddles up against you and does the exact same thing, but not before wondering how he’s going to make sure that this will happen again. 
part seven
a/n; finaaaaally some tension :) there's more to come! hope everyone likes it <3
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munson-blurbs · 11 months
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Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
Summary: When you confide in your boyfriend about your difficulty getting wet, his reaction is not what you'd expected.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), reader takes antidepressants
A/N: To all the afab folks who, for whatever reasons, can't get wet--this is for you.
Collaboration with the queen of fluffy smut, @corroded-hellfire 😘
--
“Feel good, baby?” Eddie growls in your ear, his fingers digging into the skin above the waistband of your panties. His other hand cups your breast, still concealed by your bra, though you venture it won’t be long before it’s uncovered. 
You continue grinding on his bare thigh, his boxers pushed up high. The outline of his cock shows through the cotton, and you can’t help but grab it. He inhales sharply at the sudden contact, making you giggle.
“Love seeing you all turned on, Eds,” you murmur, sucking a bruise into his neck that has his eyes rolling back in his head. He moves his hand from your waist to your clit, pressing slow circles to the sensitive bud over the lace. A moan slips past your lips, quickly turning into a whimper of his name. “F-Fuck, Eddie. Right there.”
Despite your words and the drag of your cunt on his leg, Eddie can’t help but question whether or not you’re faking it. “How ya feelin’ baby?” he whispers, tiptoeing around the more direct question in a means of cushioning his ego. 
“So good.”
Okay. Good. You feel so good. Everything’s…good. Right?
Eddie pulls back, ducking behind his hair and missing your confused expression. “We can stop if you’re not into it,” he mutters. He’s not angry at you; he’s angry at himself, because he’s clearly doing something wrong if you’re not…
“Wh-Why wouldn’t I be into it?” Your eyebrows pinch together. You’d been together a few months and hadn’t slept together yet, but you’d thought tonight could be the night.
“Because you’re not really…” Eddie struggles to find the right words. “Like, you sound into it, but I don’t feel you getting turned on.”
Embarrassment heats up your body. You slide off of him and onto his carpeted floor, repositioning yourself so you’re facing away from him. You can still see him out of your peripheral vision, but you hope he doesn’t notice the tears welling in your eyes. “M sorry, baby.” Your voice is small, and despite your best efforts, it catches in your throat when you speak.
He rests his hand on your upper arm, gently caressing it with his thumb. “Hey, hey,” he says softly, trying to hide his disappointment at the unreciprocated longing. “We gave it a shot. You can’t help if this doesn’t get you going.” He gives a little shimmy, shoulders swaying back and forth clumsily.
You turn back around towards him,  “You think…no, Eds. You’re so sexy, even when you do your weird little dances.”
“I’ll have you know,” Eddie starts, giving you a playful look, “that my weird little dances have gotten me not one, but…yeah, okay, just the one hot girl’s phone number.”
“And it was mine.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He reaches for your hand and holds it tentatively. “But if I’m making you feel good, how come you don’t get…y’know…?”
Instinct has you wanting to turn away from him in shame, but his grip on your hand is enough to keep you where you are. It’s hard to meet his eyes, but once you do and that big doe stare tugs at your heart, you let out a sigh.
“You’re making me feel amazing, Eddie. It’s just…I don’t really get…I mean, I can’t get too…” The right words don’t seem to find you and frustration balls up inside of you. You slap your free hand over your eyes, partially out of frustration, but also to hide the tears that are beginning to well up. 
“Hey…” Eddie lightly chides as he rubs his thumb along the back of your hand. “You can talk to me. You know that.”
The hand falls from your face and you take a deep breath. Words jumble through your brain, trying to figure out how to come from another direction. “Y-You know how I have depression and anxiety.”
“Yeah.”
“Well,” you say, swallowing before continuing, “the meds they give me for them…they, uh…well, they kind of keep me from being able to get…”
“Wet?” Eddie offers.
You nod, a few tears breaking free despite your attempts to keep them in. 
“I can…a little…just not a whole lot. I’m sorry.” 
Eddie frowns and shakes his head. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because,” you say, huffing a humorless laugh, “you’re so cute and sweet and I’m worried that when we actually have sex, it won’t feel good for you.”
He pauses for a moment, tongue poking out from his lips in the way that makes you melt as he reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a bottle of lube. He holds the small pink tube up between the two of you.
“Think this’ll work?” he asks.
You raise an eyebrow in amusement. The bottle is the last thing you expected Eddie to pull out of that unorganized mess he calls a nightstand. 
“Where did you get that?” you ask.
“Well, uh,” Eddie starts, cheeks tingeing pink. You notice he continues to look at the lube instead of you. “I use it every night when I think of you.”
The words take you by surprise, even though he’s your boyfriend. It’s not like you hadn’t gotten off thinking about him long before the two of you even started dating. 
“You…you think of me?”
“Well, yeah,” Eddie shrugs with a grin. “My girl is ridiculously beautiful, you think I’m not going to get off thinking about her every night before I go to bed? And most mornings before school?” He ducks his head and his bashfulness makes him look especially boyish. “Plus, there was all that time before we started dating when we were just friends…”
“So that’s why it’s more than half empty,” you say, a small smile breaking through on your lips. 
“I prefer to think of it as half full.” Eddie’s roguish smile has you breaking out into a full blown grin. You let out a chuckle as you pluck the bottle from your boyfriend’s fingers. 
“I didn’t peg you for a strawberry kind of guy, Munson.”
Eddie looks down with a shy expression on his face. Every time you make him flustered you take it as a personal victory.
“It’s, uh, it’s ‘cause it smells like your chapstick.” He leans up and presses a kiss to your nose. When he sees the effect that has on you, mischievousness creeps back onto his face. “What do you say…wanna give it a try?”
You exhale, still frustrated. The anxiety at the back of your brain is still saying that Eddie is just being nice about this. That he really thinks it’s weird and doesn’t want to have sex with you now.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this? With being with someone who needs to use lube?” you double check.
Eddie looks at you with an incredulous expression. “Baby, I’d use WD40 if it meant being inside you.”
A snort of laughter escapes you and you lightly slap his chest.
“Eddie, I’m serious!”
“I am, too! Shit, I’ll go grab some Crisco from the cabinet right now—”
“Eddie!” You sigh. “I know you’re going to wanna have, like, spontaneous sex. That might not be something I can do if we don’t have lube.”
Eddie shrugs without missing a beat. “I’ll carry it around with me. Like pocket lube or something.”
“Pocket lube?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. 
He laughs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “We can keep this one here, and I’ll buy another one for the van. How does that sound?”
The offer has your heart melting and you lean into his body. “Sounds like you’re the best boyfriend in the world.”
“Baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” he smirks, tugging gently at the waistband of your panties. “May I lube up the fair maiden?”
“As long as you promise never to say that again,” you say, already climbing onto his bed. 
“Noted,” he agrees with a laugh before turning his attention to the panties that block his view of your beautiful pussy. He drags the lacy fabric down your legs and tosses it aside as you unclasp your bra. A goofy grin spreads across his face as he takes one breast in each hand. “Sorry,” he says, though his tone has no ounce of apology, “but you can’t just show off your tits and expect me to focus on anything else.”
You roll your eyes and giggle, a fluttering feeling in your stomach that goes beyond the moment’s lust. The way he can make you laugh in your most vulnerable moments is special, and you want to capture this joy and keep it forever.  
“Lay back and open these pretty legs for me, Sweetheart.” Eddie squeezes out some lube onto the tips of his forefinger and middle finger, gently pumping them in and out of you, going a bit deeper each time “‘S good?”
“Mhm. So, so fucking good, fuck.” Your walls clench around his fingers in a silent plea for him to be buried deep inside you. 
“Tell me if you need more, okay baby doll?”
You nod, really only able to fixate on the way his fingers feel inside you. The addition of the lubricant removes any unwanted friction, and you moan louder than you intend to. 
“Your noises…holy fuckin’ shit.” Eddie muses, palming himself over his boxers. 
You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment. “‘M sorry.”
He pauses his movements, drawing a whimper from your lips. “Don’t ever apologize for making such beautiful sounds. It’s crazy hot, baby.”
“Really?”
He uses his free hand to grab your wrist, bringing your palm to his tented boxers. The fabric strains against his raging erection. 
“Really.”
With that, you let yourself fully indulge in the feeling of his fingers. You barely recognize the noises you’re making; you’ve never felt this good in your whole life. 
The way Eddie’s tongue pokes from his mouth gives you another idea, and you press your thighs together to stop his ministrations. 
He looks up at you, brows knitted together in confusion. “What is it, baby? More?” He starts to reach for the bottle until he sees you shake your head. 
“Do you, uh, w-wanna taste the lube?” It’s as straightforward as you can manage, still overwhelmed by the pleasure washing over your body. 
Eddie’s cock twitches, his face contorted in amused disbelief. “Are you seriously asking me if I want to eat you out?” he asks. “Was it not obvious that that would be a yes?” 
He throws your legs over his shoulders so quickly that it has you laughing in surprise, but that laughter stops as soon as his mouth is on you. His tongue immediately finds your clit, flicking over it until your toes curl. He wraps his lips around it and sucks gently until he has you on the brink of orgasm. His fingers return to your needy hole, filling you expertly until you cum with a wanton moan. 
“So fucking good f’me,” Eddie says, still between your legs. His mouth and chin are covered in a slick sheen. “You wanna taste now, baby? Wanna know just how delicious you are?”
You open your mouth and eagerly accept his fingers. They taste of your arousal and a hint of strawberry; it does bear a striking similarity to your Chapstick. Once Eddie lets his fingers drop from your mouth, you’re whining and writhing below him. 
“Need you, Eds.” It sounds more like a whimper than a plea. But your beautiful boyfriend isn’t about to deny you a thing—let alone something that he also wants very badly. 
“Fuck, need you too, baby doll.” He launches his boxers across the room and smears some lube on his cock, bucking his hips slightly into his closed palm. He doesn’t break eye contact as he enters you, searching for any inkling of discomfort. The stretch is delicious, and you arch your back once he bottoms out. 
“Look at you, taking all of me. My good girl,” Eddie growls, watching his cock disappear into your cunt. “Holy shit; I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this perfect pussy from me.”
You shiver at the praise, blinking away the prickling tears on your lash line. 
Eddie gradually picks up the pace, snapping his hips into you. His pubic hair grazes yours and he lets out a groan of his own. 
“Could stay like this forever,” he mumbles in your ear, forearms braced on either side of your head. 
So could you. Except…
“Eds?”
“Hmm?”
You swallow your timidness. I can trust him. “I think, um…could you use some more lube?” You’re embarrassed and annoyed at yourself for having to interrupt the moment, but Eddie’s unfazed. 
“Sure. Can I just put it inside you? Cuz, uh, if I put it on my dick, I’m gonna bust in my hand.” He gives a small laugh, though you both know he’s not joking. 
Eddie gingerly fingers you, all-too aware of how oversensitive and overstimulated your pussy is. At some point, he’ll have fun teasing you with his touch, but tonight is about your comfort. 
He slides his cock back inside you. “Better?”
“Much,” you manage, re-acclimating your body to him being inside you. “Thank you, baby.”
“‘Course. Let me know if you need more again, ‘kay?”
You nod, relishing in the way he fills you. His cock presses against your walls; you can feel every last inch of him.
Eddie doesn’t stop showering you with praise as he pistons his hips. “Love when my girl tells me what she needs,” he says with a small smirk. “I’d do fuckin’ anything for you, sweet thing.” A few strands of hair cover his eye, and you swipe it away. “Thanks.”
“Any time.” You manage a smile of your own before he catches you off guard, positioning you so he can rub your clit while fucking you. Your jaw drops in surprise; it’s exactly the reaction he wanted. “Just like that, Eds. Holy shit, right there!”
“That’s what you like? Hmm? Like when I’m deep inside your perfect pussy, making you feel good?” The hand not making small figure-eights on your swollen bud grabs your ass, squeezing it possessively. “Like when I claim you? Let me show you who you belong to.”
The combination of Eddie deep within you and being claimed by him pushes you over the edge. The coil snaps and you choke out a sob of relief as pleasure invades your body. You finish on his cock, chanting his name like a prayer. 
“Fuck, c-can’t hold out anym-more,” he grunts, and with a cry of your name, he fills you with his own release. He stays inside you for a moment, catching his breath; when he finally pulls out, you can feel his cum dripping down your bare thigh. He hurries to grab the faded blue towel hanging from the back of his door, wiping you off before plopping next to you. He draws tiny circles on your forearm while pressing kisses to your shoulder. 
“Was that good? It didn’t hurt or anything, right? Because I kinda lost my mind at the end—” 
You silence him with a kiss that only ends because you both start smiling. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had. No one’s ever made me cum before,” you admit. 
Eddie scoots back slightly. “You’re shitting me.”
“Nope. You’re the first. So, um, thank you?”
He puffs out his chest, slick with perspiration. “No need to thank us, baby. We’d do anything for you.”
“‘We?’” You cock your eyebrow. 
“Yeah, me and the lube,” he states plainly, as if this is an obvious fact. “We make a pretty good team, dontcha think?”
“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.”
“I dunno, I thought my ‘pocket lube’ idea was pretty damn brilliant.”
--
4K notes · View notes
fantasylandloser · 1 month
Text
Winner
Pairing: Coach!Tashi x fem!Reader x Coach!Art
Warnings: 18+, smut, too filled with shame to proofread, dom!tashi, sub!art, sub!reader, mentions of spanking, tashi is so mean in this, art is basically a prop with minimal lines, idk
*******
Training with Tashi Duncan and her husband was an honor. You knew that. You did your very best to remember that; which was hard to do when she had days like this. 
“Are you scared of the fucking ball?” You shake your head, but you know better than that at this point. 
“Speak up!” You flinch before you can stop yourself. 
“No, I'm not scared of the ball.” You say.
“I would hope not- considering how long you’ve been doing this. That’d surely be a disappointment to your little fan club that you love so much. “ Tashi watched the way your eyebrows tinge only for a moment, at the mention of the onlookers who follow your career closely. 
It was no secret that you had a great appreciation for the love that they’d shown you, but it was almost like you were completely unaware of how quickly it would be gone if you weren’t up to par at all times. 
From afar Art watched the scene play out. You were the player that Tashi was the hardest on. He was sure it was to do with the fact that you were just like her. Well except for the fact that you lacked confidence in your abilities. Another reason she was hard on you. She wouldn’t see your potential wasted. But you worked hard like her, tennis was the love of your life like her. 
He watched as Tashi served to you, intense and laser focused. Then you, playing back with the same intensity and just as passionate. It’s almost magical to watch until you hesitate and miss the ball. 
Tashi’s on your ass before the ball can even hit the ground. “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you in it?” 
You stammer a reply that Art can’t hear. Probably an apology. His feet are moving closer before he can even think of a reason why. 
“No, tell me. What’s got you so off your game lately? Because you’re not going to fucking embarrass me at your next matches because you can’t get your head out your ass.”
“Tash lighten up.” He’s ignored which is to be expected. She stares at you intensely awaiting your answer. 
“How am I supposed to lighten up when she’s playing like she never held a racket before, huh?” Again she sees the twitch in your eyebrows. Good, you’re angry. 
“I’m sorry, I don’t know-” Tashi holds up her hand. She doesn’t want your apology. 
“You know what- if you don’t want to tell me what the problem is,” She grabs your phone which has been continuously lighting up since you started. “I’m sure this will.’
You draw in a breath of air in surprise but you make no move to stop her. Your eyes wide at the invasion, but still ever so respectful even when your privacy is being violated. 
Almost immediately her eyebrows sprout up. “I thought we agreed on no boyfriends for this reason?” she shakes her head continuing to scroll through your phone as if it were hers. Art draws closer to her in interest, now intrigued about your phone as well, 
“He’s not my boyfriend.” You’re embarrassed, your grip on your racket tightening as you get angry at the way she’s shaming you.
“Obviously.” She mutters. She pauses a moment, both her and Art sharing a look and you know they’ve gotten to the most mortifying part. 
“Well if something would shake someone’s confidence it would be that.” You cringe, finally going to take your phone back only to be pushed back by Tashi.
“What did we talk about when it came to how you let people talk to you off the court and how it affects your game on the court?” You barely refrain from rolling your eyes.
“I can’t control what other people say” You can’t stop the edge in your voice. 
“But you can control what you say. You didn’t even try to stand up for yourself. This-” She shoves the phone at you with a picture of you half naked with the word unfuckable, in the center of the screen. “Is pathetic. “ You look away when she starts scrolling more like you don’t already know the rest of the verbal assault that had been issued towards you, and then a video of your so-called boyfriend with your next opponent and the lewd graphics that came with it. 
“What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?” You don’t mean for your response to be so angry. Or for the hot tears that started burning your eyes to fall. But the frustrations of your day had started to take a toll on you. So when you finally snatch your phone back from Tashi and get ready to storm off you miss the pleased look on her face. Art doesn’t though, he almost shakes his head knowing it was her intention to rile you up in the first place.
She raises an eyebrow at him, and just as she expects him to, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. The perfect good cop. “It’s okay, kid.” You’re tense in his arms, it reminds him of the times he’s tried to comfort Tashi and she wouldn’t allow it, but after a few moments of him rubbing your back you finally relax. .
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You start, but Tashi interrupts. 
“Apologize for standing up for yourself and I’ll make you run until you pass out.” You wipe your eyes roughly and nod. Stepping away from Art’s hug and trying your best to put your game face back on. 
“You got that out of your system now?” You nod again, but after a pointed gaze you speak.
“Yes.” 
“Good now let’s talk about how you respond to this kind of bad sportsmanship.” 
******
The outfit Tashi has you in, is just barely appropriate, You look focused, despite the whistles you’ve received on your way in. You look a little angry actually. 
Art glances at Tashi beside him, who looks all too pleased. “What’d you do?” 
“I didn’t have to do anything.” She’s almost bragging. He follows her line of sight to Tashi’s opponent and sees her and your not boyfriend smirking at you. 
He wants to ask Tashi if she thinks this will shake your confidence more, but then he looks back at you laser focused as you stretch and he decides not to question it. 
The match starts off intense with your serve. Your opponent looks surprised and even though she quickly recovers. Art can tell that this will be a win for you even though he knows Tashi despises that kind of over confident thinking. 
As the match continues Tashi is gripping her seat for support. So enthralled in the game and invested in the fearlessness you’re displaying she can barely contain herself. 
At one point during a break you’re caught trash talking your opponent. Tashi is sure to get you for it later. Even though the only thing she hears clearly is “enjoy my sloppy seconds” with a saccharine smile on your face. The deduction you receive is definitely worth it. 
When you win as expected. Tashi is nearly buzzing and Art can’t hold back his excitement either. 
****
“See this is what happens when you’re a winner.” Tashi tells you. She quite literally holding Art’s balls as he fucks into you. 
“Winners are fuckable, tell her Art.” He gasps, feeling her squeeze him. 
“Fuck-” He breathes. “Did so good.” You spasm around him at the praise, pulling a loud groan from him. “Knew you were gonna win, kid.”
Your whines and whimpers are muffled by Tashi’s hand. “Fuck her faster, she’s gonna come.” Art obeys immediately despite the fact that he is much too close himself. Your eyes roll back at the change of pace. 
“There you go.” She squeezes Art’s balls once you start cumming so that he can too. He tries to pull himself out of you before but he can’t and leaves a sticky mess all over your cunt. “Fuck”
Tashi mounts you before you can stop twitching, lining her pussy up with yours, holding your leg over her shoulder. “Now next time I tell you to do something,, you’ll listen to me.” She starts slowly, spreading the mixture of both you and Art’s orgasm on both of you. 
“Isn’t that right?” You nodding makes her speed up, giving you that look of disapproval. 
“Use your words.”
“Yes, yes, yes I’ll listen to you.”
“Yeah I know you will, because now you know what good girls get.” She continues to grind against you skilfully.
“And next time you don’t listen to me-” You feel your core tense up again. “I will spank you until you cry.” Just like that you’re gone again. The masochistic side of you envisioning the picture that will haunt your fantasies until you get it. 
You don’t realize the loud moan you hear is you, until Art is kissing you sloppily to silence your cries. ‘You like that don’t you?” You hear Tashi say. You want to tell her yes but you can’t with Art’s tongue down your throat. You think she knows the answer anyway.
The contrast between the way that Tashi is fucking you so vigorously and the slow kisses Art is giving you puts your head in a spin. On top of that your overstimulated clit is making it hard for you to think at all. 
“Coach please-” You beg. “My pussy can’t;” You’re cut off immediately. 
“Who knows what's best for you? Me or you?”
“You!” By this time tears are flowing down your face, as you feel another orgasm building all too quickly. Art wipes them, then moves his hands down to pinch your nipples. 
“Exactly. Now cum.”
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propertyofwicked · 3 months
Text
SECRETS part 2 - LN
lando x fewtrell!reader
no content warnings in this part, i promise the next part will have some actual fluff to it
part 1 -> part 2 -> part 3 -> part 4 -> part 5 -> part 6 -> part 7!
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y/n was easily won over by chicken nuggets and a diet coke - a fact lando knew too well. both he and max had both spent almost hundreds on the food combo every time y/n was roped into one of their plans. whether she was lying to her parents to cover up where max had been all night, or even just being asked to hold a camera or a boom mic for a quadrant video, she was always rewarded with 6 chicken nuggets and a diet coke.
lando had in fact not included max in his late night plans, and very quickly made it known as to why.
“so, how’s uni?” he asked, warming her up for the incoming conversation, turning onto a side road and pulling the car to a stop.
“yea it’s good thanks, how’s driving?”
“could be better, i could be better,” he smiled sadly, but glad she asked about driving as she fell directly into his trap, “why did you stop coming to races?”
“lando,” she sighs his name, almost disappointed in him for even asking, “university’s a lot of work you know. i can’t fly around the world to watch you drive a car. and, i still watch the races - just from home.”
“so it’s nothing to do with me?”
“well ignoring me for a year doesn’t help your case, but no, it’s not to do with you. you know i’ll always be there when i can. when im invited,” the emphasis on invited hung like hot air in the car, and created and unsettling silence.
“lan, can i ask you a question?” she said, breaking the awkward atmosphere in the car.
“mhm, anything.”
“why did you stop talking to me? i know we’re not as close as you and max,” she adds, lando almost wincing at the mention of his best friend, “and i know you were busy being, you know, a superstar and that. but even over your break, i saw you like twice in passing.”
“im sorry y/n, honestly it wasn’t intentiona-”
“bullshit, try again norris. the truth this time.”
lando breathed in deep, as if to lock and load his next statement.
“max he, uh, he told me he’d seen some pictures of us. you remember that club in monaco?,” she nodded in response, remembering the encounter with lando that night in somewhat drunken detail, “he wasn’t happy with me. thought we had something going on behind his back. y/n when i say angry, i mean he was one step away from beating me up and then keying my car.”
“but there was nothi- i mean we weren’t d-”
“i know, i tried to tell him,” lando sighed, “he gets a bit, let’s say ‘over protective’ with you i guess. doesn’t trust me maybe? i don’t know.”
“so instead of letting me discuss it with him, you refused to acknowledge my existence for a year? yeah that’s mint, let’s do that,” she said, the sarcasm rolling off her tongue.
“i was a dick, ok - i’m sorry. but your brother is slightly terrifying when he’s angry. think he’s realised he was wrong - that’s why he let you come to the race im guessing.”
he was wrong - but was he? was max completely wrong to assume what he had? she thought the feelings were mutual but clearly lando had other ideas.
“can i drive your car?” y/n asked, smiling over to lando in the drivers seat. he’s started driving around aimlessly again, deciding to put an end to the conversation about where they stood with each other. his head whipped around to look at her, his eyebrows quirked up in a mix of confusion and immediate refusal. he wasn’t even driving one of his more expensive cars, as they all stayed in monaco. but of course, lando norris needs a high end car in every country.
“please, lan,” she said again, eyes widening in attempt to tug on his heart strings, “please. i miss driving, i haven’t driven since like, christmas since my car died and went to car heaven.”
“y/n, angel,” the nickname wasn’t something new, but it still flipped something about in her stomach, ”if anything, that makes me want to say no even more. besides, it’s automatic - you drive manual.”
“oh come on, it’s literally just a pedal for stop and go. please.”
“not tonight,” he said, looking at her to show his sad frown as if that would make her happy about the rejection, “if i get podium tomorrow, ill put some money towards getting you a new car.”
“lan, please you don’t have to do that.”
“i know i don’t have to. i want to. besides, if i get podium i think i owe my lucky charm something to show my gratitude, no?” he said. y/n knew this was an argument she wouldn’t win, so she smiled up at him, nodding slightly.
the car fell back into a silence, comfortable this time, with only the sound of lando’s music playing quietly out of the speakers, and the odd whooshing of a car driving past.
the car came to a still, the red light reflected on the their faces as they waited for the light to change.
“the stars look pretty tonight,” she said absentmindedly. y/n was never one to sit in silence without at least attempting to fill it.
“yeah, they do,” lando responded, although he wasn’t looking at the stars, moreover, he was staring directly at the light reflecting onto y/n’s face. his own mouth curling up into a smile when he saw your soft features grinning contently at the sky.
it was around 1am when y/n and lando returned to the hotel car park, casually discussing life at university and where y/n saw herself using her degree in the future.
“i think it’s better if we don’t tell max about this,” she mumbled, tilting her head to the side, catching lando’s eyes. her own eyes blinking slowly in exhaustion.
“i think so too. are you going to tell him what i said?”
“not right now. but i refuse to let him believe has any right to threaten his own friends in a bid to control my life,” she says, her body now twisted fully to face him directly.
“just,” he sighed, “dont get violent,” his hand reaching over to rest on her knee.
“me? violent? that is a bold accusation, norris.”
“y/n - i know you. just don’t be too harsh, he thought he was doing what was best.”
“thinking is always max’s downfall,” she responds with a snort. she turns her body back, arm reaching to grab the handle when lando catches her other arm, forcing her to look at him again.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
“i’ll be there.”
sneaking back into a room was usually y/n’s specialty, but she’d never attempted to sneak past max before. rather, her teens were spent sneaking back into the house with max. unlocking the door and pulling the handle down, y/n pushed softly on the wood, but the creaking was so loud in the silence of their hotel room. the floor boards to her bag of clothes seemed to have a vendetta against her today too, she could’ve sworn they did not creak when she had walked across them earlier.
the bathroom tap decided to splutter loudly and spit freezing cold water down her, and the door to slide back open and allow the stream of light to fall directly on max’s face.
“y/n?” her brother groaned, “you just come back in?”
“yeah, sorry - i tried to be quiet,” she whispered back, turning the bathroom light off and stumbling gracefully through the dark room to the sofa.
“it’s 1am? you were in the gym for 3 hours?”
“erm, yeah,” her voice wavered in the lie, “i got distracted on the treadmill. tired myself out though.”
max grumbled something in response, too sleepy to say anything further.
the next morning max walked down to the hotel lobby, passing the gym in his journey for breakfast.
open 7:00 - 23:00
hang on, he thought to himself, shut at 11?
where had his sister been? she couldn’t have been in the gym till 1am, so where had she been, and why had she lied?
★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶
tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes
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disneyprincemuke · 7 months
Text
bother figures * fem!driver
being the designated baby sister of the grid by default is never as easy as you think it would be
pairings: alex albon x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver
warnings: ugh annoying men
notes: this is hardly funny but like i've had to take inspiration from my bother-less life rn so i'm like rly going through it rn LMFAO and it's almost 5am here but as far as i'm concerned, it is night time somewhere so teCHNICALLY i'm not late to an update!
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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in the almost empty room, she sits in the corner seat as she taps away on her phone a message to reply to her siblings' group chat. she had arrived early for the driver's briefing and decided to take solace in the corner with a cup of hot chocolate.
she was enjoying the peace and serenity with the soft chatter in the background as she tried to lock herself in for the race weekend. that was until she felt a presence looming behind her with an aura she couldn't possibly ignore.
she slowly lifts her head up with a mean glare. she turns her head and meets max's blue eyes and sly grin. "what'cha doin'?"
she puts her phone on her lap as a scowl replaces her dead expression. "what do you want?"
"what are you doing?"
"does it hurt you when you see me and like... not do anything to annoy me?"
"yes, actually. i like talking to you."
"i just wanted to talk to ciara."
"now you can talk to me."
"but i don't really feel like doing that."
"why not? i'm here in front of you and not behind a phone screen. where's ciara?" he looks around, then at her with a beaming smile. "oh, would you look at that? not here."
"because she isn't an f1 driver."
"still not here to talk to you and provide you the joys of interacting with somebody face to face."
"max."
"(y/n)."
"times like these i remember you've got a younger sister."
"what's that got to do with anything?"
"you've mastered the practice of being annoying growing up, obviously. you're such a pro at it."
"how can you say that?" max cries, hand on his chest to feign hurt over her words. "i'm not annoying. please take that back!"
"you realise you made me stop my conversation with my lovely sisters because you saw me sitting alone."
max reaches out and pinches her cheek, grinning when blood rushes to her cheeks. "you were just looking a little lonely. just wanted to make you feel a little accommodated to, that's all."
she stares at him, lips pressed together. "okay, that's actually pretty sweet. i kinda feel bad now.”
“and you should!” max frowns, folding his arms over his chest. he leans back into his seat and rests one leg over the other. “you’re mean, you know?”
“i’m an oldest sister.”
“i’m an oldest brother.”
“i have three younger siblings that made me wanna shave my head bald.”
“that’s kinda crazy.”
“i know,” she sighs tiredly. but she smiles slightly. “but it’s kinda nice. with oscar and logan taking over those responsibilities growing up, we never had a moment of boredom at home.”
“cute!” max smiles. “if i lived with you growing up, you might’ve actually run away for good.”
“i could run away for good now if you’d like.”
“seb wouldn’t like that.”
“you’d have to deal with it. i’ll leave a note on my team’s fridge with your name on it.”
“you need to put the reason underneath. if not, your team will think you’re just naming the most handsomest driver on the grid,” max shakes his head in disappointment. “don’t wanna give off the wrong idea, you know?”
“if you say ‘handsomest’, it doesn’t need a ‘most’ before it,” she says, lips parted slightly at the atrocious grammar. if there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s most definitely the reigning world champion making simply grammar mistakes. “you should get more sleep.”
“i do! i slept like 10 hours last night!”
“somehow i find that hard to believe with the bags under your eyes.”
“what are you two bickering about?” a hand lands itself on the back of her chair. carlos stands next to her with one hand on his hip. “i could hear you from the hallways.”
“damn, you should really keep it down, max,” she chuckles, sending him a shocked look before she clasps her hands together and rests it on her stomach. “you’re too loud.”
“i’m sure he meant you. you like… swallowed a mic as a kid,” max scoffs. he looks up at carlos. “tell me she was louder than me.”
carlos sighs. “you were loud on the same level, i believe.”
"see? i told you."
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"you're moving in with logan?" alex's jaw drops, the tiktok video no his phone left to play on repeat as the younger girl dropped the news that logan's moving into her apartment. "mate, what?"
she looks up at him with a confused stare. "what?"
"i thought you said you didn't want people talking about you like that?" alex asks, raising an eyebrow. "people will definitely talk if you move in with a man."
she presses her lips together. "you've got a point, i suppose. but logan's my best friend. we've been talking about moving in together forever! since i was 15!"
"i'm just looking out for you, kid. you should really think this through," alex sighs as he slumps his shoulders. of course, he knows just how close she and logan are on a day-to-day basis. but people tend to be quite ruthless with women and he just can't see this going any other way. "you know how people are."
she sighs, shaking her head. "i don't know. i just don't think people would pay attention to that aspect of my life. i still deserve to make decisions that wouldn't be at risk of scrutiny, right?"
she takes a step forward towards alex. she hadn't exactly thought of the public implications that this would cause her. all she knew was that they'd talked about this for years and were ecstatic when logan shyly brought up their conversation from years ago.
"that's the basic that we all hope for," alex frowns. "but you know how people are. you've seen how they treat you just being here. imagine the chaos."
"maybe i'll just keep it under wraps and hope for the best," she suggests with a small smile on her face. "that could work, right? i don't wanna have to put down something i spent forever talking about."
"if you can keep it under wraps, i applaud you," alex smiles, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "and i thought you've had enough of men - why are you still moving in with one?"
"to save money, really," she smiles. "and with kidnapper and stubby at home... i think living with another person is best."
"but doesn't logan like dogs more?"
"yeah, but kidnapper's taken a very weird liking to him. he doesn't wanna admit, but i know logan really likes kidnapper a lot."
"typical logan, really."
"you'd be surprised how much feelings that loser's holding in."
"oh?" alex smiles mischievously. "tell me more?"
"nice try," she scoffs with an eye roll. "i'm not spilling the beans about logan's love life. that's lore you've got to unlock the longer you race with him. just hope he's feeling friendly enough to share, yes?"
"so true," alex frowns. "but what if he's not friendly enough? means you are my only source for material to piss him off with. so, 'fess up!"
"can't betray my best friend like that, i fear," she frowns. though, her smile grows slowly. "but i can be bribed."
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a scowl carves her face as she stares at the roll-in whiteboard with pictures held up against it with sesame street magnets. she sinks into the plastic chair she's given and tilts her head at the men gathered around her.
"and that's why i think you should get the same car as me," lando says simply, recapping the marker in his hands. he turns to her with a proud smile after his presentation.
her lips part. "so that we can matchy and..."
"and fuel rumours," lando repeats. "i'm involved in too little drama this year. it's always 'no wins' this, and 'no podiums' that... i want more."
"that's not a very good argument," she answers slowly, confusion contorting her face that almost makes alex laugh. "i said that i want an easy car, not a supercar. i've made that clear to almost everyone on the grid, yes?"
"yeah, but like," lando whines, throwing his head back as he stomps a foot into the ground. "seriously? you can't do this one thing for me? i'm asking you a favour!"
"to spend big money on a supercar i have to drive like it's made of glass!" she laughs dryly, hands thrown in the air in disbelief. she looks around at the men that have forcefully pulled her out of her garage and put her in this private room, in this plastic chair when she could've been taking a power nap. "is this what i'm here for? you lot are trying to convince me to finally purchase a car?"
"as per logan's request," alex shrugs, sipping on his juice box. "he said you've been putting it off all year. the season's about to end."
"and you listened to that nonce?" she cries, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you guys are absolutely unbelievable. i can't believe i'm wasting my time here!"
george, sitting next to her with a picture in hand, points at the whiteboard timidly. "i really put in a lot of thought about a car you should get," he says softly, looking slightly disappointed that she's caught on a lot faster than they predicted. "can i at least show it to you? i don't have to present."
"aw, george," she sighs, shaking her head. "it's not another supercar, is it?"
"it's not, i promise!" he perks up with a small smile on his face. he turns to lando with a small scowl. "only lando did this presentation with his best interests in mind. alex and i took the task seriously - just hear us out!"
she looks between george and alex, contemplating if the brit is telling the truth. instead of getting up like she had initially planned, she leans back into her seat. "fine. if it's anything like lando's, i'm leaving immediately. i don't care who has yet to present."
"but this ferrari looks so pretty," charles frowns, turning the picture in his hand to show it to her. "it's matte black and all. i thought we could match."
"that is also a supercar."
"he's presenting last, so i really don't care what he says," george mutters, shoving lando away from the whiteboard. he picks up a big bird magnet and pastes his picture between lando and max's proposal. "so, i think you should get this super cute toyota car."
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts
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toxycodone · 5 days
Text
Deflowered. (Laios Touden x Reader)
content. virginity loss (laios), fluff. a metric ton of it. there's also emotional crying so. watch out.
reader's past/experiences/looks are not mentioned. I wrote this as more as an immersive means of sex with Laios, so physical and mental feelings are the main point. reader has a pussy (for the sake of writing) but this fic is still pretty gender neutral. If you are not a vagina haver/enjoyer/whatever you can gloss over it w/o much issue.
words like pretty/beautiful/etc. are used but in reference to reader AND Laios. gender equality or whatever.
author's note. This fic is one of my aforementioned stretch goals from my fundraiser for Palestine! So yay, thanks so much everyone for funding it!
word count. 6.7k+ (I went too hard on this.)
Like my writing? Toss a dono to the Palestine Children's Relief Fund and join the Fic Raffle! (I will kiss u fully on the mouth).
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“Laios…are you even into sex?”
It’s a question he never really saw coming, but now, five months into your relationship, it’s hitting him like a train. You’re looking at him with genuine curiosity, no judgment. It’s simply a question.
“Well…um…”
The blonde has to take a moment to compose himself before answering the question. Despite his closeness to you, discussion of such intimate topics does still escape him.
“I can’t say I’m not interested.” He speaks, now finding his hands much more interesting to stare at than your gaze. “I’ve never really considered how to approach the topic.”
“But you’re interested?” You lean forward a bit. “Do you want to have sex with me?” Usually, you wouldn’t think to be so bold. But conversations with Laios require a certain amount of directness. You don’t want to leave anything up to interpretation.
Laios’s cheeks begin to turn pink. He looks to you now, and it’s obvious the action requires a vast amount of courage from the man.
“I do. I’m…very attracted to you.” He admits.
It’s reassuring to hear him say it out loud. It’s been a long while since you’ve been lusting after him. Spending so much time without acting on it, you weren’t sure if you could take it much longer.
“Good.” You smile to yourself, before continuing. “So…are we going to do anything about it, or…?”
The last sentence is said more in a teasing manner. You’re hoping to break the tension between you and Laios a tad. However, he doesn’t seem especially moved. His gaze leaves you once more.
“I’ve…I’ve never…” He hesitates. “You’d be my first.”
That revelation has you shocked…at least, sort of. Laios is handsome and well-built, but he’s awfully busy. You weren’t surprised to be his first steady relationship, but to be his first time…? Not even a quick romp when he was in the military? Or moving with the caravan? That’s…surprising. But not totally uninvited.
“So you’re a virgin.”
Laios looks ashamed when you say it out loud. He knows that an average man of his age should have a plethora of experience under his belt.
“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to. I’ve never really had a chance.”
Laios’s face burns. It’s embarrassing to speak the truth. You must be disappointed to be with a man like him. A man, psh, if he can even call himself such…
Before his mind can continue its self-deprecating spiral, your voice cuts through the strife.
“I’d be honored to change that, if you’d let me.”
You keep your tone and demeanor sincere. You accentuate this feeling by placing your hand on his knee, reassuringly giving it a squeeze.
Laios looks shocked. Yet…happy. He’s happy. Of course. He should’ve expected this reaction from you. Why was he nervous in the first place? You’re wonderful.
“You want to…copulate with me?”
You snicker. Leave it to Laios to make things abruptly technical. Despite his interest, he’s clearly not fully comfortable with this situation just yet.
“Yes, Laios. I do in fact want to copulate with you. Very much so.”
And many more times after that, you think. But you’d keep that to yourself for now.
“Wow.” The blush on his face deepens. Laios stares at you for a few moments, before smiling.
“Then I’d be honored to have you as well.”
So here you are. After a few days of planning (mainly to ensure Laios’s comfort and preparation), you’re laid across his bed with him at your side.
The both of you took care to really set the mood. Falin’s not home, for one (thankfully she planned on spending this evening with Marcille), and Laios’s room looks a lot more inviting with the couple of candles lit up. It’s romantic yet comfortable. The perfect scenario for what’s bound to ensue.
You gently stroke the fabric of Laios’s nightshirt as you lay beside him. The two of you have been in this scenario multiple times before—often before an intense cuddle session or the occasional make out. This time the feeling was…new, even to you. The atmosphere is tense. 
“You okay?”
Laios looks at you. His pale skin is tinged in a rose hue, despite you two not even getting started yet.
“I’m nervous.” He admits. “I mean, I’ve never done this before.”
“I know that. You don’t have to be nervous. I don’t have any expectations, so, you don’t need to worry. I just want to spend time with you.” You press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want—“
“I want to!” Laios interjects. He looks almost startled as you by his own enthusiasm, then coughs awkwardly. “I want to be with you. In this way. I’ve thought about it a lot, actually.”
Now that piques your interest. He’s been thinking about you? You can work with this.
“You’ve thought about me?” Your fingers start to trail down his shirt, from his chest to his midriff. “What kind of thoughts, Laios?”
The man tenses, but quickly shakes it off. You notice his breathing pick up.
“Thoughts…of us. What this would be like…” Laios shifts a bit, his eyes follow your fingers as they dive under his shirt.
“Mhm…” You urge him to continue. “Mind if I take this off?”
Laios shakes his head. His night shirt comes off as easy as ever. You’ve seen him shirtless quite a few times, but the sight never gets old. You take a few moments to admire the pleasant softness of his upper body, before looking to him again.
“Go on.”
You work on unbuttoning your top as he speaks.
“I was wondering…” Laios’s train of thought seems to stall as you remove your shirt. His wide, golden eyes drink you in before he snaps himself back to reality. “How you’d feel. The noises you’d make,, I still can’t believe you want to do this with me.”
You roll your eyes internally. If only he could see himself through your eyes. He’d know if anything, he’s doing you an utmost favor by letting you deflower him.
“I can’t imagine who I’d rather be doing this with right now than you.” You lean to chastely kiss his cheek, before moving down his jaw. “You’re absurdly handsome.” Simply kissing his warm skin makes your stomach tie in knots. Gods, you want him inside you.
Laios’s breath hitches. A breathy moan parts the silence before he speaks again.
“You really think so?”
“I know so.”
Soft lips trail down his chest, then linger over the space near his heart. When you press your ear to his skin, you can hear the rhythmic thumps pounding against his ribcage. It makes you smile.
“You don’t have to be nervous, Lai. We can stop at any time. I won’t be mad.” You punctuate your sentence with a kiss to his heart.
Laios smiles, comforted by the gesture.
“I know. I want—well, I’ve wanted. To do this, though. For a while.”
He sits up a little to better see your face. You return his smile, then get back to work.
Laios gently starts to stroke your hair as you kiss down his body. His soft moans and whimpers fill the air. Under your lips, you can feel the skin on his stomach twitch and tense in between kisses.
You let one of your hands trail up his thigh. It doesn’t move towards his crotch just yet, instead, you settle to massage the flesh from over the soft linen of his night pants. You move towards his inner thigh teasingly slow.
The goal here is to rile him up as much as possible. Unlike other men, Laios isn’t just hard and raring to go from his thoughts alone. His own shyness and insecurities still hold him back. But, with his mind clouded with lust, Laios would be likely to let more of his inhibitions go.
After a little more teasing, you finally decide to dip your fingers under his waistband. His breath hitches when your knuckles accidentally bump his groin—even the tiniest moments have Laios reeling. You pause your movements to look up at him, doing your best to hide the smugness you feel.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbles, then brushes some hair out of your face. He’s smiling and his lips part, but nothing comes out. He purses them instead as if he’s debating something.
You raise a brow, which prompts him to keep talking.
“C-can we kiss? While you do this?”
He asks this almost sheepishly, and it’s enough to make you blush as well. Why the hell does he get to be so cute?
You nod, obliging his request by moving up the bed and leaning forward to press your lips to his. You can feel his lips curl into the gesture. He’s smiling. You swear he’s the most adorable thing in this world.
The lip lock starts out sweet. The two of you take your time to set the pace, pressing loving kisses to each other, before it grows more heated as your hand gently palms his bulge through his underwear. Each movement earns a gasp or groan from the man before you. It’s not long before you feel him start to harden beneath your grasp.
You pull away for just a moment to look into his eyes. Laios’s face is much more relaxed now. He seems to be more focused on the moment.
“May I?”
Your fingers dip below the fabric of his underwear, but don’t dare go further without affirmation.
Laios nods.
“Yes, please.”
He helps you shuffle off his night pants. In respect of fairness, you place his hands on your hips so he can aid you in removing yours as well. Laios bites his lip a bit, his cheeks now fully blooming with a rosy hue. The sight of your bare ass and thighs obviously has him excited.
Next is his underwear. You’re seated in between his thighs as you remove them. It doesn’t come off as eagerly as his pants, but when you press a kiss to his hip he’s more than happy to oblige.
His semi-erect cock is quite a sight to behold,\ It’s not abnormally huge or anything, but the fact that you’re finally seeing what you’ve imagined to be pounding into you for the last few months. The fact that is a part of Laios that no one else has seen—or gets to see— but you? You can barely stop yourself from drooling. You want this thing in your hands. Mouth. Ass. Gods, everywhere it can fit. He could split you in two and you’d thank him.
You spit into your palm, then grasp it. He’s warm and weighty in your hand. You can already imagine how it’d feel cradled by your walls. Your hand slides down the length a few times—earning a choked moan from Laios. It’s pulsing with life and solid now in your grasp. His foreskin moves with each stroke of your hand as precum starts to pearl at the tip, aiding in lubrication.
“Feels better when someone else does it, yeah?” You ask with a smile.
Laios merely nods, nipping his bottom lip.
“Y-yeah.”
Another stroke has him lying his head back in the pillow, groaning. His large hands fist the sheets. You take one and lie it against the back of your head, and almost instinctively, he grips your hair. However, it’s with the same power one may use to hold a sheet of glass. Eh, you think as he settles into this, Laios will eventually get it and get more firm.
You can’t help but give him an experimental lick. Laios makes an odd whimpering noise—but it’s clear it’s in pleasure—so you continue to taste him. It doesn’t have much of a flavor. It’s mostly just like licking his skin, it’s clear he washed pretty thoroughly before. His precum starts to add a bit of a salty tinge as you continue. You make sure to lick down to his balls as well. He’s got a pretty thick covering of blonde pubic hair–but the sounds he makes and the way he curls his toes makes you less than apprehensive to keep working your mouth.
Laios’s lewd sounds fill the air as you continue. His fingers gently brush your scalp for a few strokes, before finding their way to grip you tighter. When you give him a light moan, the reverberations shoot down his cock, and he fists your hair with more passion. 
You start to grind yourself against the mattress, but when that’s not enough, you seat yourself as well as you can on his knee and find some decent friction there. Pleasant waves of arousal course through you, down to your crotch as you start to get yourself off a little. This feeling, along with the feeling of Laios down your throat, starts to put you in a bit of a trance.
A desperate noise cuts through the silence. Laios gives a half-hearted tug and grits his teeth.
“S-stop.” He chokes out, causing you to still. You remove your mouth from his length, before giving him an absentminded stroke. “Please. I don’t wanna cum. Not yet.”
You fully remove yourself from him and Laios lets out an audible sigh of relief. You laugh lightly as he begins to regain his composure. That azalea hued blush advances down to his chest now. For someone who’s faced beasts twice his size and kept going, Laios already looks utterly finished beneath you now.
“Why don’t we take a little break, yeah?”
You move up the bed and kiss him on the nose. You know you want him inside you now. But as wet as you are from just grinding against him, you know you need to be stretched open a bit beforehand if you want to take him comfortably.
“Sounds good.” Laios kisses your forehead in return, gently humming. His shaky breaths are starting to return to a normal rhythm.
Now it’s your turn. You lie with your back down on the bed, then look over to Laios.
“Wanna return the favor while you recuperate?” You ask, looking at him unexpectedly. You don’t want to intimidate him or make him feel like he has to do anything at this point. However, Laios’s eyes light up. He eagerly shuffles to be between your legs, before moving to assist you with getting comfortable propped against the pillow on his headboard.
He looks mesmerized by the sight of you through your underwear. The slick on them doesn’t give much to the imagination of what’s underneath. He can barely see the head of your clit poking through as you spread open for him. The sight and smell triggers his overeager brain to lean forward and take a good, long lick.
You jolt a bit, but moan. Laios snaps back, then looks wide eyed at you.
“Sorry! I should’ve asked first.” 
He looks sheepish, but not entirely remorseful. You’d roll your eyes, but you’re actually kinda excited. Okay, it seems his nerves are dissipating now. This is good.
“It’s okay.” You move your hand to stroke his hair affectionately. “Do what you want. You can take off my underwear, too.”
Laios’s hands are shaky, but it's clear that’s from excitement. He licks you through your underwear a couple times as an experiment, making you tense, before finally removing them. The sight of you in front of him, finally exposed, makes his jaw drop–almost comically slow. He stares at you long enough to spark confusion (maybe even some nerves yourself), before he finally speaks up.
“What…exactly do I do?”
You snort. You almost forgot he’s entirely clueless.
“Here,” You spread your lips open for him to see. “It’s not super difficult. Anywhere you lick is gonna feel good. But you should concentrate more on these spots.” One finger points to the sensitive mound at the apex of your folds. “This is the clit. It’s the most important. It…kinda feels similar to me how it did when I was sucking on you. But…don’t get too crazy. The clit’s more sensitive, so you wanna be gentle.”
“Hmmmm…” Laios nods, following along with interest. His large finger reaches out and starts to stroke it lightly. You moan in response.
“That’s good. You’re getting it. But add a bit more pressure. That feels better.” 
He obliges, and you close your eyes with a smile. The added texture of his fingerpad is what adds more pleasure. That feels good. Laios notices your reaction, then continues. As he continues to play with the nub, he pulls back the head. This seems to enlighten him.
“It has a hood!?” He asks excitedly. “Is it more sensitive underneath?”
“Super sensitive.” You agree. “Again, be careful, don’t just–”
He’s not listening. He gives a gentle lick, then a suck, which has you shuddering. You moan out his name in your own choked voice. Your hands grip his hair. It takes willpower not to shove his face into you just yet. “Gods, Laios. You’re eager.” He chuckles, then licks at you again. You grind against his face in return, which makes him moan.
“You’re getting…slicker. More moist.” He remarks, then licks up some of your wetness. “It tastes weird. But good. It’s like I don’t wanna stop. Must be pheromones or it’s similar to how–…”
“Usually people say wet, Laios. Moist is not super sexy.” You chuckle. It’s important to cut him off now. His language along with incoming tangent would probably unintentionally kill the mood. “But it’s because I’m getting more turned on. You’re making me feel turned on.”
Laios shuffles a bit. You can tell he’s getting harder.
“I like that. I like making you feel this way.” He seems to be more confident now.
“Good, you can make me feel even better with your hands, too.”
He’s curious again. You open yourself once more, then point to the lowermost hole.
“That’s the vagina. The main entrance.” He nods, and you continue. “Before we go further, you’re gonna have to stretch me out. It’ll make everything else feel better and more comfortable for me.” 
He looks up at you with a bit of a frown.
“I know what that is.” He pouts. “I’m not entirely clueless.”
Oh.
You chuckle a bit, patting his head affectionately.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure. You’re a lot smarter than most guys.”
That seems to cheer him up, so you continue. You instruct him to slide one of his digits inside you. He does so, slowly and carefully as you command. His hands are unreasonably large. One digit is actually able to make you feel something as he slides it in and out of you. There’s almost no resistance as he does so, your slick coats his fingers and seeps onto his palm as you ask him to add another. You feel yourself stretch to accommodate them and moan in pleasure. Each movement he makes is extremely purposeful. It’s not just as if he’s trying to finger you, but also get an idea of just how you feel on the inside. The pads of Laios’s fingers gently poke and prod as they continue their movements. He’s enthralled by the texture and feeling of merely his fingers inside you.
“N-now…make like, a scissoring motion.” You ask, starting to feel that typical build up at the core of your groin. Laios gasps as he starts to stretch you out, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“The human body is amazing…” He speaks as if he’s entranced. “I wonder if I–”
His tongue moves to lick up your slit. You let out a wanton groan, then clutch his scalp. Laios takes this as a good sign and moves to lick at your clit like before. The stimulation along with him still fingering you has your breath stifling. You start to fuck yourself on his fingers and grind into his face.
“Just like that, Laios. Good boy…” You praise, not really thinking about what you’re saying. He whimpers into you, making you groan again. The little vibrations when he does that feel amazing. He continues to moan and whimper as he suckles at your clit. You can hear a swishing sound, something against the fabric of the linen sheets, and when you put two and two together you realize he’s humping the bed under him. 
Okay, as good as this feels, you need to put a stop to this. He’s gonna get carpet burn on his dick. And you’re gonna cum on his face and get too brainless to direct this virgin when he’s pounding into you. 
You pull him back by his hair, which Laios doesn’t fight against. His fingers still inside you. There’s a small trail of clear spit and slick that keeps his mouth connected to you. 
“Pull your fingers out. I wanna ride you now.”
He’s no longer hesitating. The way Laios scrambles off you and eagerly lies on his back is comical. You’re not exactly composed yourself, though. You’re just as ready to hop on and ride him until his brain goes numb.
Laios leans his back against the headboard with you seated in his lap. Your hips almost move on their own, sliding your entrance over his cock before grinding your clit against it. Just this has the two of you orchestrating a symphony of moans. The combination of slick, precum, and spit that forms between your legs and drools down your groins adds a barely audible wet sound in addition. When the cusp of your entrance catches on the head of his cock, you shudder.
You can’t wait anymore. And you’re sure Laios can’t either. You position his head at your entrance and give him a kiss.
“Are you ready?” You ask, pressing another kiss to his forehead. You want him to be sure. Not that you’d think he’d back out at this point, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.
“More than ever.” He responds breathlessly, then kisses you sweetly. You can taste yourself on his lips. “Do it, please. I want you.”
You’re sure to align him correctly, then sink down on his tip. Laios makes what might be the weirdest, yet hottest groan from deep in his throat, while his fingertips dig into your sides.
“Relax…” You whisper, ghosting kisses over his cheeks. You’re not fully composed either, but Laios is going to burst if you’re not careful. “It’s okay.”
He lets his face fall, but his shaky breathing continues as you fuck yourself on his tip, steadily opening yourself up to him. This is better than you thought. Much fucking better. Especially with Laios’s gasps and desperate whines in your ear. The heat that radiates from his body, causing the two of you to work up a light sweat. The way his muscles tense and jolt underneath your body. It’s driving you absolutely wild.
“Laios.” You moan, letting your head fall to the crook of his neck. You know this pleasure is brainbreaking for him, but it’s making you weak in the knees as well. The insides of your thighs burn with pleasure as you continue to take more of him into you. “You feel so fucking good inside me. You fit so well.”
One of his arms raises. His hand cradles your head, but his fingers grip your hair tightly.
“You’re so warm.” The last word falls out of his mouth like a boulder. He’s struggling to speak as if his mouth is filled with rocks. “So, s-so good…” He’s speaking through grit teeth, swallowing harshly like his throat’s suddenly coated with cotton. When you bottom out, resting your ass on his balls, he cries out your name. He almost comes unfurled beneath you at that moment. 
The act’s finally done. Laios Touden–No longer a virgin. He’s been deflowered by you. 
You bask in the moment. Despite your mind being clouded by pleasure, you take just a second to appreciate him. That ever growing flowery hue lights up his whole being now. Laios face, neck, chest…even parts of his arms and thighs are practically growing red. The rest of his pale skin is tinted with a hibiscus-pink color. Laios’s head is lolled back. His open mouth has a small trail of drool running from it. You lick it up happily, then meet him for a kiss.
“Look at me.”
Your command gently wakes him from his trance. Laios’s golden eyes peer at you lazily.
“You’re not a virgin anymore.” You chuckle, then kiss that broad nose bridge of his. He smiles and leans his forehead against yours.
“Thank you…” He breathes out. His eyes shine with adoration now. 
“I should be thanking you. It’s not every day one gets to take the virginity of someone as pretty as you.” 
Your compliment makes his breath stifle. You give him another loving kiss, which he eagerly returns.
You start to move now, which Laios responds to with a whimper. He tries to roll his head back again, but you wrap an arm around his shoulder and use your hand to direct his gaze where you two connect.
“Look at us.” You say between gasps. “The way we fit together. You were made for me.”
His brow furrows, but his eyes widen in awe. Laios’s hands remain perched on your hips as you ride him. He moves awkwardly to match you, but his thighs and legs betray him when jolts of gratification surge through him. He tries to cough out a response–something, anything–but can only manage a drawn, pitchy whimper. You let your eyes fall closed and set your forehead against his again.
For now, you let yourself enjoy the moment. You and Laios exchange breaths, gasps, and groans as you guide yourself up and down his length, then bottom out once more to grind your clit against his pubes and groin. Laios creates his own cacophony of odd noises that you can assume are due to pleasure, and they send swirls of delight through your brain and down your spine.
Each movement you make makes you crave more. More of him. The way he smells, sounds, feels–its all encompassing. It makes you want to consume all of him, drain him the way he’s drained your thoughts these past months. You could never imagine it’d feel this way. Laios isn’t gifted at sex by any means, but the emotional connection between you two is what heightens the physical aspect. Knowing you’re his first, how much he trusts you, desires you–it makes your mind cloudy. He belongs to you. You have him in the most intimate way possible now. An unforgettable moment for the both of you.
You clench around him and grit your teeth. It’s almost as if you’re telling him this now–he’s yours. The noise he makes when you do that is unnatural. It’s guttural–almost primal. 
“I’m gonna cum!” He chokes out, his body shaking with tension. You immediately stop your movements and relax. Not like this. Not yet, if you can help it.
“Hey, hey, settle.” You coo in his ear, now kissing whatever skin you can reach. “You don’t wanna cum just yet, right? I was hoping to give you the reins.”
Laios’s breathing is rapid, as if he just ran a mile. You coax him out of his stupor, trying to aid him in learning to contain himself. For someone with little experience, he does have a lot of willpower. With a little more time to gain his brain back, he’s able to get halfway cognizant and look at you once more. 
Your hips slide up, ever so slowly, and you let him fall out of you with a wet pop. That would’ve been embarrassing if the two of you weren’t so incredibly turned on. You hop off him now, then beckon him to climb on top of you. When he does, you anchor your thighs on his hips.
“I figured you’d wanna try your hand at this. Hold yourself up and I’ll give you a hand.” You prop yourself up a bit to look between your legs. Laios grabs his cock, and you help him guide it towards your entrance. “It’s probably gonna slip out if you’re not careful, so keep close to me.”
He nods and slides in without issue. You hum in delight at the feeling of being full again. You let Laios thrust his hips into yours a few times and his hefty balls smack lewdly against your ass as he does. He’s focused, biting his tongue a little as he tries to see which angle and speed gets a proper reaction from you. He’s cute. And the fact he’s thinking of your pleasure on an evening that’s supposed to be about him is endearing as well.
You beckon him forward, then lock your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, the typical missionary position. Laios keeps most of his weight on his forearms as he casually pumps into you. 
“You’re doing a good job.” You gently play with his hair and look lovingly at him. Laios always fills you with the warmest, fuzziest feeling when you look into his eyes. It spills out like water when you have him like this. “You’re perfect. Everything I could want in a man.”
Laios’s brows furrow. You can’t tell if it's in concentration or what. You kiss his forehead softly as his eyes flutter closed.
“You’re everything to me.” He says in a firm voice. His pace begins to pick up, his pelvis starting to dig into yours. “You. I–, I just…can’t believe you’re here with me. You’re so beautiful...”
He’s really picking up the pace now. It makes your grip tighten on his hair. Laios is losing himself in you, and you let him. His length barely leaves you before thrusting right into you again. Sweet words and strangled noises pool in his throat and tumble out with fervor. 
“I love you.” He whines. It’s said with enough devotion to make your heart ache. “I love you…Love you…” He gasps. You feel his cock twitch inside you. He starts to drive into you like a madman now. He has little tact, but you don’t mind. It feels good nonetheless to watch him fall apart before you like this. Feel him lose his composure just from the workings of your body. Your own peak starts to approach on the horizon. 
“I wanna stay with you forever. Wanna be yours.” His balls create a slightly steady beat as they slap against your bottom. The wet, squelching sound of your hole being pounded fills your ears along with Laios’s moans.
“I love you too.” You respond, letting your fingers comb through his sweaty bangs, moving them from his face. Words come easier since you’re still more composed than he is. It’s clear Laios is exceptionally vulnerable at this moment, so you tell him things he probably needs to hear.  “You’re so easy to love, Laios. Just by being you.”
That seems to do something to him. His head falls in the crook of your neck and his arms slide under your shoulders to pull you as close as possible. His entire weight now leaning on you knocks the wind out of you a bit, but you’re able to recover quickly. All you hear is jagged breaths and strangled cries as he pumps into you wildly. A wet warmth starts to gather on your skin. You think its drool. 
A few more desperate thrusts of his hips has him coming undone completely. It’s everything but graceful as Laios reaches his peak. It’s obvious his orgasm tears through him like he’s paper. Not only does he almost completely fill you, but his sounds are grossly guttural, and the way his body tenses like stone and curls into yours before he slumps against you is testament to that. 
You roll with it, though, and simply pet his hair, whispering sweet nothings to him as you do so. He shudders against you, hiccuping softly against your skin. As you bask in the moment, you feel your combined slick start to squeeze out of you a bit. It’s still warm, but it makes you shiver. You stayed hugged against Laios for a while before he finally starts to remove himself from you. 
You’re shocked when you catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are puffy, nose runny. There’s tear stains down his cheeks. He wasn’t drooling. He was crying.
“Hey.” You hold his jaw in your hands, frowning a bit. “You okay? What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t dare look you in the eyes. His nerves eat away as him as he sniffles. It’s a little bit of a pathetic sight.
“I-I don’t know. I just…you said all those nice things to me, and I just–” His tears start coming again, and you shoosh him. There’s a lot of hormones floating around. You’re sure that’s making him emotional, granted, on top of all his insecurities surrounding his own self-worth.
“I meant what I said. I love you, sincerely.”
Laios’s breathing starts to even out a bit, but tears still fall. He brings your palm to his mouth, gently kissing it.
“I know. But that’s what makes me feel this way even more. I just…can’t believe you’re with me at times. You’re so wonderful.” He looks at you with such adoration. It’s sickeningly sweet.
“You are too. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you could at least begin to understand how I feel about you.”  You continue to wipe his tears with your free hand. Laios shakes his head, almost in disbelief.
“I’ll never understand what makes you want to put up with me. But I'm over the moon that you choose to do so.”
“And I always will. Loving you is effortless. Stop referring to it like it’s a job. ” You casually flick his forehead to lighten the mood. Laios snaps out of his own head and returns to the moment with a soft “ow”, before beginning to laugh.
A laugh escapes you now. You sweetly kiss him on the nose.
“Now, stop crying, dummy.” You tease. “You’re gonna make me cry too,”
Laios chuckles as you wipe his tears. He grasps your wrist, then brings your hand closer for him to kiss.
“I’m the smartest man in the world if I’ve already decided I want to spend my life with you.”
So what he said earlier. He meant that. Laios sees a future with you…You start to feel a little overwhelmed by emotion now, but settle on squishing his face in your hands and pushing him away.
“Dork.” You chuckle. Laios’s laughter fills the room now. There’s so much mirth in the room, before he starts to look contemplative again.
“Wait…did you?” He raises a brow. “I couldn’t tell if you finished.”
Oh. Here comes the awkward truth. You weren’t expecting to get off and you had a lot of fun, but you’re not sure if that’s enough for him.
“I…no.” You answer honestly, but are quick to reassure. “It’s okay, though. Don’t feel pressured. You went through a lot right now, and I still had fun. I’m happy.”
He’s not.
“But I wanted you to…” He pouts. “You deserve it after what you did for me.”
You’re about to reassure him that hey, it’s fine. You could cuddle and just chill out, but you catch his curious gaze trail down to the shiny wetness of your crotch. If he’s willing…
“I mean, if you want…” You look up at him. “Only if you feel like it. I can show you how to get me off again. But in a different way this time.”
His brows raise, eyes shining with interest. He nods, now sitting up on his knees as if awaiting instruction.
You tell him to lie on his back and tell him about your plans. Facesitting is an entirely new thing to him, but he’s totally on board with the idea. He’s practically drooling as you describe it to him. The tension and eagerness builds up with a quickness. You hurry up and get your shins seated on either side of his head, ready to get this show on the road.
“This still alright with you?”
You look down at Laios. He’s staring at your wet, cum soaked pussy like it’s a gourmet meal.
“Fuck yes.”
That’s the first time he’s cursed all night. He must have a thing for oral. You’ll be sure to keep that in mind.
You lower yourself onto him, careful not to put all your weight on him just yet. Laios laps at you excitedly. He’s never been the most refined eater in the first place, and the way he sucks and licks at you is as if all manners flew out the window. Your thighs shiver as you let more weight onto his face. Holy shit. He seems to be a quick learner. That, or his enthusiasm to please shines through when it comes to oral. He’s so voracious it makes your head spin. 
You cry out expletives and start to rock against his face. Laios’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling your hips down onto him. You lean as much weight as he can take. It doesn’t seem like you phase it at all. 
With your slit flush against him, you can feel everything. His tongue dragging across your sensitive skin, diving into your hole as he lets you fuck yourself on it. Warmth builds in your core, making your jaw clench. You alternate between grinding your clit on his nose and letting him suckle at it. It’s phenomenal.
“I’m gonna…” You’re cut off by a moan. Your thighs tighten around his head. “Laios!”
He heeds your warning, now focusing on letting you ride his tongue. You grind your clit against his nose as you finally come undone, that warm familiar feeling spreading from your groin down to your thighs. Your legs clench around his head. The moan that you elicit from his lips while you do that has you shaking. 
When you’re ready, you climb off his face, flopping on the bed beside Laios. The two of you are spent. At least for right now. Laios pulls you into his arms, letting your head rest gently on his chest. As you lie there, the sound of his heartbeat lulls you to drowsiness.
“That was the best moment of my life.” He speaks up. “I just…” Laios laughs at his loss for words. He’s never been good with  them, but even finding one to describe how he feels right now seems like an impossible task. “I love you. I love you so much.” 
“Love you too.” You murmur against his skin. This was a lot, physically and emotionally. But you’re glad you did it.
“I feel like I could lie here forever.” His voice starts to taper off, as if he;s feeling wistful. 
“Mmmmm…” You mumble in agreement. Falling asleep with your face flush against Laios’s boob sounds ideal, before you’re reminded of the cool wetness between your thighs. It was sexy at first, but now it’s starting to grow uncomfortable. “I–We, gotta clean up, though. I feel gross.”
“I kinda like it.” Laios admits. “Being covered in you…us. It’s nice to see our fluids together.” His fingers brush between his own legs, gathering some slick between his fingers. “It’s kinda like slime. Man, I wish I could have those noodles again.”
You furrow your brows in disgust at first, but Laios’s words make you snicker. Of course, he somehow relates this to monsters. Then, to food.
“Well, the faster we get cleaned up, the quicker we can eat.” You begrudgingly stand on shaky legs. Laios is quick to steady you, before standing up himself.
“You’re right. I’ll pay. I owe you one after all this.” He kisses the top of your head. Laios starts to walk away towards the bathroom, but not before you land a decent smack on his ass. The man yelps, before staring at you wide eyed. The handprint that lingers due to how pale his skin is is comical.
“C’mon. You owe me a shower.” You kiss the underside of his jaw, then walk ahead of him.
Laios rolls his eyes and smiles, happily following after you.
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gay-dorito-dust · 18 days
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Can I request batboys learn of reader's fake death, she is on a mission and they find her.
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Reader can be read as gn or whoever you see fit.
Dick
‘Is that you?’ Dick asks softly as he neared you.
‘No.’ You replied in hopes that he’d leave but you knew deep down that he wouldn’t, not if leaving meant leaving you behind also. Not the way you chose to erase yourself out of the picture for this stupid suicide mission.
Dick on the other hand was hellbent to not loose you again, the house you both built wasn’t a home if you weren’t in it to share it with him and Hayley, the poor dog was still fast sleeping on your side of the bed before Dick left for his nightly patrol; Hayley missed you very much and would whimper when she realises that your scent was slowly fading away.
It hurt Dick more then he liked to admit, and he tried to suppress it for as long as he could but he would often find himself trying to look for you in other people, other things but it always ended with him looking at the pictures of the two of you on the wall and feeling nothing but cold. Everything felt out of place without you but Dick would always try to act as though he was coping better then he was behind closed doors doors, clutching at the clothes you’ll never wear again as he silently sobs into the fabric.
Now here you were stood before him in what people would call as pure coincidence or luck because anyone would give anything to see their lost ones again, absolutely anything, even if it was by morally questionable means and Dick can understand the reason why that might be.
‘I- I wish I could tell you but I can’t.’ You replied, not wanting to put Dick in danger because of the dangerous people you’ve wronged.
‘Why not?’ Dick asked, worried that something had happened when he wasn’t nearby to help.
‘It doesn’t concern you.’ You told him as you tried to make distance but Dick was quick to close it. ‘It does concern me if it involves you.’ He says lowly, gently reaching out to hold your face to make sure this was real and not a dream and when you leaned into his touch, eyes closed shut Dick lets out a relieved sigh as his thumbs stroke your cheeks. ‘So please, don’t make me loose you again. let me help.’ He whispered, resting his forehead against yours.
Now you really couldn’t reject his help, he made it impossible just like how he made it impossible for you not to fall in love with him all over again.
Tim
Didn’t know what to expect from what he was seeing.
He had heard that there was someone of your stature going about town during the night but he wasn’t one to believe it until he’s seen it with his own eyes. So when he did catch of glimpse of you or someone pretending to be you, he didn’t know what to do, he was brought back to where he was when he found out about your supposed death; helpless and confused as to how such a thing could happen.
It wasn’t until your eyes met his did Tim feel his blood go cold from how dull and borderline dead your eyes looked when glaring right at him. There was a flash of familiarity but that was gone before Tim could blink, something was wrong, very wrong but he didn’t know what exactly.
You weren’t…well you.
Now Tim did have dreams about what he’d do if you were to be magically reanimated, brought back to life but those were dreams for a reason, a alternative reality that didn’t abide to realism or the more likeliest of outcomes; this was reality and reality wasn’t pretty and is often disappointing on most accounts.
So Tim stood there, frozen as you made a quick exit, much to the confusion of his siblings -Dick and Damian- who knew how hard your death had struck Tim, they didn’t need to be told how difficult it must’ve been to see your dead partner somehow alive again.
‘Are you okay?’ Dick asks.
‘Somethings wrong.’ Tim said. ‘Why would they feel the need to fake their own death and not tell me about it beforehand?’ He asks himself.
‘Only if someone powerful wanted you dead.’ Damian suggested. ‘What other reason is there besides that one?’
‘If that’s truly is the case,’ Tim began as he looked between Dick and Damian, ‘then why reappear after only a week? It’d be common sense to stay low for far longer until the smoke clears, unless...’
Dick then places a hand on Tim’s shoulder. ‘Looks like we’ve got work to do.’
Tim wasn’t certain what he would do if you ever did come back, but now it seems as though he did know; to save you from whatever has been nipping at your heels.
Jason
Wasn’t sure whether or not the sleepless nights had finally caught up to him ever since your passing, spending them staring at the door to your shared bedroom as though you’d magically walk through it with a smile, telling him that everything that had happened was just a nightmare before kissing him on the forehead and cuddling into his side to fall asleep.
However Jason had pinched his skin that many times to know well enough that was all a fallacy created by his own mind because he didn’t want you seeing the man he’d become from whether afterlife you resided in.
So when he spotted sow thing he believes looked a lot like your silhouette, his body followed after it, much like it did whenever things pertaining to you sparked that sense of familiarity within him, that sense of home and belonging. However this lack of subtly on his end didn’t end up well as he was soon enough laid flat out on his back as your masked face hovered over his.
‘Why were you following me?’ You asked through gritted teeth.
‘I thought you were dead.’ He replied In disbelief.
‘That was the plan until you ruined it.’ You grunted as you pulled him up to his feet, ‘you weren’t followed were you?’ You asked as your eyes shifted from shadow to shadow.
‘No, listen sweetheart-‘ Jason tried to speak but you sharply shushed him. ‘What’s going on, you can tell me.’ He now whispers and you sigh, finding it hard to exist within the same space as Jason without hugging him to death, but you couldn’t risk dragging him into your troubles.
‘I can’t.’ You tell him, knowing that there was a heartbroken expression behind that red helmet of his, ‘and even if I can all I would be allowed to say is that some bad people are after me.’ Jason’s shoulders tensed at this.
‘Why did you say anything earlier.’ He asked, he was holding back from exploding because had this been brought up earlier then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to be subjected to witnessing your ‘death.’ ‘I could’ve helped you out-‘
‘And risk you becoming their next target? Not thanks Jason I already lost you once I’m not doing it again.’ You tell him firmly but he wasn’t having it, not after what you put him through. ‘And I thought I lost you or has that not ever come to mind.’ He bites back with the sharpness of someone who was deeply hurt by the actions of someone who he loved more than life.
‘Jason.’ You tried to say but you knew him better then most, once his mind had been made up there was little chance to change it.
‘No. I’m going to help you get out of this mess, either you want me to or not, this is my war now.’ Jason tells you as he marched ahead. You sighed as you followed after him.
This was going to be a long night.
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webslingingslasher · 1 year
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i'm a sucker for angst to fluff. what if parker's friends say some mean things ab your body but parker doesn't defend you. that night, you won't cuddle him, you won't even sleep in the same bed because you don't wanna disgust him... and peter has to make it up to you.
parker is a dunce!!! peter supremacy!
Peter had two sets of friend groups. 
The first one was the original one. Kids he grew up with, suffered through high school and flew into the freedom of college with him. The group you knew the most of, they were the closest to him and nearly the entire group became your friends too. Weekends spent smashing drinks and staying up too late before hitting up a diner for greasy burgers at four in the morning. 
Then the second group, which you did not know well, don’t know how Peter knows them and can’t fathom why Peter would entertain them. 
It’s split like this. 
With friend group A, he’s Peter.
With friend group B, he’s Parker. 
You don’t like Parker; not one bit. 
Parker can be stark, blunt, bold and cocky. 
It was the friend group, they made him believe he was one of them so sometimes he acted a little too much like them. It wasn’t ever too bad, just the stuff you know he normally wouldn’t feed into, he gorged. 
His friend, leader of the group, Nick, said it in passing. It’s not the first time you met, granted you try to spend as little time as possible with them but you also won’t give them the cold shoulder. The mutual understanding with friend group B is that you both are there for Peter’s sake, it just makes things easier. 
Nick threw his beer back, foam swirled to the top. His long arm extended to the seat next to him, his watch clicked against the chair top. 
“I’m surprised you didn’t bag someone with a better body, Parker.” A sharp wink is thrown at your boyfriend, and in response he snorted, “yeah, right.” 
It was sarcastic, you’ll give him that. But he didn’t give more, you waited for the ‘real funny, but don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.’ However, he just rubbed your shoulder and sent a small smile, almost like he was saying, ‘you know how it is.’ 
You didn’t miss the tiny curl of Nick’s lip when you shook Peter’s hand off your arm. 
If he couldn’t stand up to his friends over a shit comment then why would you let him put his hands on your body, knowing everyone thinks he could do better?
—------------------------------
Peter frowned when you pulled away from his grasp, he was going for a hug but you floated away. You were quiet on the ride back, not starting conversation but not letting it fail either. 
If Peter could describe your emotion right now it would be ‘fine.’ 
“C’mon, gimme a hug.” 
You cross your arms, “you sure you want your hands on me?” 
Peter reaches out and tries to pull one hand back with the other but his right hand breaks free and grabs you, “I can’t control them! They need you too much.” 
Sometimes it’s really, really hard to be upset with him. 
“I’m gonna take a shower,” you pull away, forcing yourself to stand up for yourself, if the situation was reversed you’d shut it down at the dinner table. Not smile sympathetically and give him an ‘oh well!’ 
“Want company?” 
Disappointment covers your features, “not really.” 
He wouldn’t stand up to defend the body he loves but he wants to be first in line to use it. 
“Oh. Okay, if you want I’ll make us some ice cream cones and set up a movie?” 
You shrug, “sure.” 
Peter knows what’s wrong but he views it as a boundary issue between his friends and him, not you. He knows what he needs to do but doesn’t want to involve you further. 
That message doubles down when you told him you would sleep on his couch tonight, he woke you up after the movie to take you to bed when you shrugged him off, “I’ll sleep here tonight,” that never happens, ever. 
“No, c’mon, I’ll carry you.” 
His hands slipped under your thigh when you rolled over, “if it wasn’t so late I’d be at home. Consider yourself lucky that I’m still here.” 
So, Peter presses a kiss to your temple with an “alright, honey. Goodnight, we can talk in the morning, okay?” 
When he walks away you mumble under your breath, “hope you dream about girls with better bodies.” He hears you, it takes everything in him to not bring you with him. 
—----------------------------------
Noise woke you up. 
The room was bright, sleeping in the living room left you exposed to nearly every window in the apartment. Peter’s room was dark and cool, if you were in there it could be well into mid morning before you rose. 
There was a blanket on you that wasn’t there last night, it’s one from Peter’s room, he keeps an extra by his bed for you. The sun peering in warmed up the room and you started to feel just a little too warm. 
You almost forgot why you were awake until you heard a cabinet shut loudly and a soft curse murmured from the kitchen. Peter was up early making breakfast, you know he feels largely guilty. It almost makes everything okay. 
It took heat swarming your face for you to pull the blanket away, the cool breeze from his ceiling fan felt really good. You yawn, then cough from a dry throat. 
“Baby?” 
You sniff, nothing more than a harsh breath, “morning.” Your voice croaks from the couch, you hear shuffling, steps get louder until you looked up at his face peering over you. 
“I slept like shit, how about you?” 
You stretch your arms over your head, “no complaints.” 
Peter recognizes you’re still mad. 
“Waffles or pancakes?” 
You grin, “french toast.” 
Peter leans over the back of the couch, his lips puckered. “Deal,” you push his chin away. “No kisses, you’re on time out.” 
He wanted to wait until after breakfast but he really can’t last that long without a kiss. 
“Okay, come here.” 
You got up and followed him, he grabbed his phone sitting on the counter and gestured to taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Peter unlocked his phone and tapped around, he handed it towards you, you looked at him confused before he wiggled it. “Take it, read it.” 
Taking his phone you looked down, it was blurry and you had to blink a few times. Peter busy with moving around the kitchen. 
A text thread between him and Nick. 
“hey man, I know you didn’t mean anything by it but you hurt some feelings by that comment tonight. From here on out no jokes on or about her, cool?” 
“Ah shit man, my bad. I didn’t mean to get you yelled at, no jokes about the lady in front of her from now on.” 
“I mean don’t joke about her, ever. It’s not cool to me, and it disrespects my girlfriend.” 
“Say less, I’ll tell the guys, no more jokes about parker’s girl.” 
“Appreciate it, man.” 
A small pout takes over your face, he texted it last night after you got home. If you can track it back it would’ve been around the time you were in the shower, unprompted he stuck up for you. 
Peter stood up for you, he had your back. 
You assumed he didn’t, but he just didn’t make a scene. He kept cool and calm until he was back at home, in regards to not embarrassing you or his friends and maybe damaging either relationship. 
You click your tongue, your boyfriend meets your eyes, he’s awaiting a response. 
“Well, now it’s hard to be mad.” 
“I will always defend your honor, sweetheart. Just because I don’t do it at that moment doesn’t mean I wont, okay? I love you and you are absolutely the hottest woman I could ever bag, alright?” 
You respond with countless kisses and cuddles, Peter needs to nearly peel you off his body so he can use the stove safely, but not one complaint utters from his lips. 
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buckboi · 2 months
Text
Angsty Little Coda to 7.6 because I couldn’t get the look on Margaret Buckley’s face out of my head but don’t worry it has a happy ending
*Now edited and on Ao3*
G / 1k / TW for bad parents
“Evan, have you got a moment?” 
Five words from his mother and Buck falls off cloud nine and crashes back to nineteen years old.
But Chimney’s alive and okay. Maddie’s glowing beside him in her gown. Everyone’s chatting and eating the overpriced (but admittedly delicious) wedding cake. It feels like a family gathering, and Buck won’t cause a scene in front of his family.
“Yeah, sure,” he says. Tommy gives his hand a gentle squeeze. Says I’ll be right here with just his eyes. Buck squeezes back, and follows his mom into the corridor.
“Come here.” She pulls a tissue from her pocket with one hand, grabs his chin with the other and starts wiping away the soot Tommy had left on his face when they reunited. “So. What’s all this then?”
It’s a trap, he knows.
“What’s all what?” he deflects.
“All this.” She waves her hand at his face, then towards the hospital room where Tommy is visible through the glass door. “You’re an adult now, Evan. I thought you knew better than to upstage your sister on her wedding day.”
Oh great. Accused of doing exactly what he’s trying not to do. It would be funny if it wasn’t frustrating.
“Second wedding,” he mutters under his breath. Just because Maddie was happy to forgive her parents for missing the first one, doesn't mean Buck has to let it go too.
“Excuse me?”
“I said she knows,” he corrects. This is a happy day. Chim is alive. Maddie is beautiful. Tommy is waiting for him. Things are good. He’s not arguing with his mother. “Maddie. I told her about Tommy weeks ago. She was the first person I told, actually. And she told me to bring him to the wedding, if I wanted to. The only one here who seems to have a problem with it is you.”
His mom scoffs at that, and lets go of his face.
“I’m not homophobic.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“I just don’t think it’s right, springing it on your father like that.” She tuts at him. Like he’s nineteen, fifteen, twelve, eight years old. He almost liked it when she was disappointed in him. At least she was paying attention. “He’s getting older. His heart.”
“You think me having a boyfriend is going to give dad a heart attack?” He laughs at the absurdity of it all. “Do you think we should get him outta that room before he realizes Hen and Karen are lesbians?”
“Evan.” How she manages to say his name with some much judgment when she’s the one who names him, he’ll never know. “It’s different. When you find out your own child has been lying to you for years. And all those girls you’d string along...”
She looks hurt, but not angry, which is its own kind of fucked up. It’s not fair. She doesn’t get to be sad about this.
Not when things are finally feeling good, and safe, and right. When Tommy feels right.
“I wasn’t lying.” It’s maybe more of the truth than she deserves.
“I don’t see how that can be true if you’re gay.”
“Well I’m bi, actually. And I only just-“ he scrubs a hand over his face, probably spreading the soot around worse. “It’s a recent development, okay? That’s why people didn’t know. ‘Cause it’s new. And Tommy and I are taking it slow.”
“I suppose that’s a first for you too, Evan?” she snipes and it’s goddamn unfair because who is she to ask him that? To judge his life when she’s never so much as pretended to take an interest in it?
He has options, now. He could storm off. He could say something worse. He could say something worse, something about dead children and how they can’t disappoint you like the ones who are still alive and then storm off.
She’s not worth it, says a voice in his head. It sounds a lot like Eddie, and Bobby; like Maddie, and Chim, and Hen, and Tommy.
Like someone who actually cares about him.
“Can we just… not?” he asks, and for a second Buck thinks she might actually refuse. Might force the point, but she lets out an unnecessarily weary sigh and nods. “Can’t we go back to the party, and enjoy what’s left of the day?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I want that?” Buck doesn’t even attempt to answer that one. “Just let me get you looking respectable again and we can go back.” She grabs at his face once more.
“Buck! Chim wants you back for a team photo,” Maddie says, bursting out of Chimney’s room in a cloud of tulle. Just in time to witness his humiliation. Great. “Aww, you’re wiping it off?” 
“Of course he is,” their mom says. She’s scratching at his face with the tissue. Speaking for him like he can’t answer on his own. “It’s your wedding, Maddie. I won’t let him show you and Howard up.”
Buck takes a deep breath and smiles thinly as his sister furrows her brows.
“Oh, well, Chim said he wanted a photo with your face all dirty.” She laughs sweetly, and grabs Buck’s arm. “He wants to capture every detail of the day.” 
“Oh,” Buck says eloquently as he lets his sister pull him back into Chimney’s room. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” she assures him.
“No it isn’t,” Chim cuts in from his bed. “Tommy, again. I want that photo!”
And Buck laughs, because it’s silly, and because he knows his family loves him. He asks, “Do we have to?” not because he doesn’t want to, but because it’s Maddie and Chim’s day, and he never wanted to steal their spotlight, even for a moment.
“Oh absolutely you do, Mister,” Maddie tells him, with just enough tease that he knows she wouldn’t force it if he protested. “Our wedding, our rules.”
Buck has no interest in protesting, instead he turns towards Tommy, who’d been a shockingly good sport about this. Buck’s sure he’s exhausted; probably desperate to get back to his apartment and shower off the day. Kinda wants to join him there if he’s being completely honest with himself.
“Well?” Tommy asks, interrupting his steamy fantasy.
Buck bites his lip like he's a teenager again.
“Hi.”
“H-“ Buck interrupts Tommy’s reply with his lips, far softer than before.
He’ll never ask how his mom reacted - whether she rolled her eyes, or pursed her lips or looked, even for a moment, proud of him - but Buck’s family cheers and jeers and whistles their support.
And he feels free.
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