#more hurt than comfort tbh

[crackl0verboy]

Marble hornets hurt comfort headcanons ft. Ships (theres some that aren’t specific so put In whoever you want)

(Im sorry- not feeling great rn and this is my way of coping 😔- IM SORRY IF THERES MORE HURT THAN COMFORT)

•Brian is like a walking ball of energy, he’s always up for meeting new people, doing things and genuinely be an outgoing guy but some days he just /cant/. Its not something he likes about himself very much considering he wants and likes to be there for and with people. His energy completely sucked away and he knows truthfully thats okay, it happens but it doesn’t stop him from feeling shitty about it. A way he’s gets comfort is from his partners (the boys)

A way i picture this going down is he roommates with Tim so he’s obviously the first to notice, he wakes up and Brian hasn’t even got out of bed yet when usually by the time Tim wakes up he’s gone on a morning run and made breakfast. He asks about it since well- maybe his boyfriend just wanted a lie in. But no. Tim gets short answers, tired and dull, it makes him frown knowing Brian is struggling, he texts Alex or Jay about whats happening and asks if they can come over.

They arrive to comfort Brian and as expected they’re kinda shouldered off since their bf doesn’t wanna be a bother, obviously they’re happy to reassure him then just be around him, they dont have to anything major, even just holding him in silence is enough.

•Alex is very quick to let his emotions take hold, especially anger so he starts fight a lot sometimes unintentionally and oh the guilt sets in hard afterwards. However he stays a good while being stubborn and doesn’t want to apologise because “why should i!?”, the memory of what transpired eats at him though and he knows deep down he’s gotta say something. When he does come around it’s usually with some form of gift (not that he thinks it’ll win him acceptance) then he apologises and acknowledges it was stupid of him to get so worked up about something small. He’ll do anything possible to keep things right.

•Tims frequent nightmares usually waken people up, he’ll be screaming and jolting in his sleep while he dreams of when he was a kid again in the hospital hallucinating that ugly tall faceless creature. Whoevers in bed with him that night wakes up groggy though they snap awake upon realising whats happening, they know this routine, know how to soothe Tim without waking and startling him. Rubs on his back as he’s completely encased in their arms, soft whispers saying its not real, fingers carding through his hair, even when it works i dont think the other person lets him go for the whole night.

•Jay gets stressed a lot to the point where he does actually cry at times and it really makes him feel so pathetic, it hurts and aches so badly, he just wants to be able to function properly without getting so overwhelmed. Its rare but, he reaches for the help he knows is there, opens the door with a red and puffy face while he’s on the verge of tears again and as he’s hugged everything just pours out once more. For a while thats all he does, cry, it fees good after he’s let it out even if it leaves him sleepy, he goes for a nap being cuddled if thats what he needs to do.

Waking up later he’s able to talk about what happened and go through how to prevent it from reoccurring, it can be embarrassing but its fine, he knows he wont be judged by someone who loves him.

•Tbh sometimes, certain duos work best for certain scenarios of hurt

•Tim and Alex are the ones that get into the most arguments because one demands an apology while the other just cant give one in that moment

•Jay got that abandonment and trust issues

•Brian being Hoodie must’ve been a miserable experience, completely consumed by hurt and anger and sadness that eventually went numb. He became a walking shell.

Idk what else to put yall- i still hope these were enjoyable to read

[imshymorph]

Remember how i said i’d post about Ghost? Well, here it is, but i’m not sure how soft it is. It’s hurt-comfort with about 99% hurt and 1% comfort. enjoy :) a/n: this one is kinda long, a little over 1.7k words. i’d like to say it’s properly proof read but i’m exhausted so i might’ve not done a great job.

Simon was in the small balcony in his flat in Manchester, cigarette hanging from his parted lips as he looked out at the empty streets below and then to the dark clouds above. It had to be close to 3am, he had gotten back from a mission less than a week ago. Hadn’t slept or eaten properly before shipping out two weeks prior either.

He tried to convince himself he was fine, he had gone for longer with as little sleep and food. Had managed all kinds of tortures and traumas, he’d handle this too. He refused to acknowledge the way his body had started to feel heavier, how he almost felt delirious. Not even sure when he had come out with the intention to smoke. Time stopped making sense a while ago.

- - - - -

When he heard a sound coming from inside his shoulders tensed, even if it could have been anything really. Or even nothing at all, seeing how exhausted he really was. But he still turned, trespassing the balcony’s frame as his tired but well trained eyes studied the inside of his living room. Nothing seemed amiss.

When he was about to turn again to go back out, he heard some shifting and then a voice. “Thought you said you were quitting, Riley.” His whole body tenses, his hand reaching up to take the almost fully burned through cigarette off his lips.

“Who is there?” He asks, his voice rough and gravely from disuse and tiredness. His eyes took in every inch of the room, much more alert than before. He couldn’t identify where the voice was coming from.

“You don’t know me? Think harder, Si.” He did know, of course he did. But it couldn’t be. There was no way he was hearing your voice.

If he had been tense before, it was like he was completely frozen now, body trembling. It couldn’t be you, but there was no other explanation. He swallowed thickly, needing a minute to focus again. The cigarette had fully consumed itself and slipped past his trembling fingertips to the hardwood floor under him, he didn’t even notice. “Doll? It can’t… Where are you?”

“Right behind you, darling.” You said softly, and he felt like his heart would up and leave his chest when your arms wrapped around his waist from behind. His breath stuttered as your chest pressed to his back, more when your lips kissed the space between his shoulders. “I missed you.” you said softly, and despite the way your words were muffled against his back and he was exhausted, he heard you as clear as day.

A shiver ran through his spine and in just a second he had turned around, wrapping you in his arms and tucking you against his chest, away from the rest of the world. “Missed you too, doll.” he barely murmured, “thought i… I didn't think I'd see you again.” he rasped out, his throat clenching and eyes watering as he held you.

“We promised we’d always find each other, right?” Gods, your voice was as sweet and soothing as he remembered. His embrace tightened and maybe it was the lack of sleep, lack of eating, how much he had missed you or all of them at once. But before he could even realise, he had buried his face in the crook of your neck, his tears slowly wetting your skin and the collar of your shirt.

“There’s no need to cry, Si, darling. I’m here now.” you whisper softly, and the way your hand buries in his overgrown hair, no longer kept buzzed, just makes him cry harder. He had missed this, missed you. All of you. “I’m always with you.”

“I miss you.” He murmured, voice gruff and strained against the skin of your neck. “Every single day, doll.” A soft and hiccupy sigh left him when your hand started to rub his back, the familiarity and comfort of the movement helping him recover his breath.

“Look at me, darling.” You say softly, rubbing his shoulders as his head slowly pulls back from its hiding place. Your hands then slide up his neck and to his cheeks, gently cupping them, drying his tears with your thumbs. “It wasn’t your fault, Simon. Don’t blame yourself, darling.”

Maybe it was your words, your tone or your touch. Hell it was probably all of them at once. But hearing that reassurance leave your lips made his head lower as he pulled you into his chest again. This time his face buried into your hair, smelling the scent he could only find left on your pillow. His eyes closed tightly as the memories rushed back, his hold around you tightened and he cried harder.

You pulled him close, your hands gently guiding his head back down to the crook of your neck. Just like you had done so many times before, when he had woken up after a horrendous nightmare. “I don’t blame you, Simon. No one does.” You reassure softly, keeping a hand on the back of his neck, grounding him. “Don’t do this to yourself, my love.”

He remained silent for a bit, your touch and voice slowly grounding him, pulling him from the memories that plagued his mind. “I should’ve been there. Should’ve known.” He whispers, and his voice is so shaky and weak that it feels like your heart is being shattered.

“Simon, you would have done more if you could have, darling. There was no way for you to know, no way to prevent it.” You reassured, one hand always on the back of his neck, thumb gently rubbing the side of it. The other one around his waist, having found its way under his shirt to make direct contact with his skin.

“I know” He murmurs, focusing on your touch, your smell and your warmth. Focusing on how you looked as stunning as the time he had first met you. Focusing on how he had you with him, then and there. “But still… I miss you so much.” he said in a shaky whisper.

“I know, darling. I miss you too, everyday.” You whisper back, your lips pressing on his forehead and a wave of warmth filling him from head to toes as consequence. “I know it’s hard, I know you’re scared. But you have to keep going, Si.” Your words, the softness and love they carried for him made him feel like he was laying under the shadow of a tree on a warm spring day. “If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for me, my love.”

He didn’t reply for a long time, just stayed in your arms. Hearing your even breathing, feeling your stable heartbeat under his fingertips that rested on the pulsepoint on your neck. He just took a moment to feel, to feel you with him, to feel all the pain and the relief. All the love and the fear. “I’ll try for you, doll” he eventually managed to whisper.

“You’ll manage, I know you will.” You whisper softly, close to his ear so all he could hear and think of was you. “And someday, we’ll meet again. Don’t know when or where. But I know we will, Simon.” you reassure, his eyes closing as the both of you swayed softly from side to side.

“When we do,” He whispers after a comfortable silence, “I won't ever let you go. Not again.” He holds you a little tighter, his focus on you and solely you, his flat around him long forgotten as he swayed with you.

“We’ll stay together, darling. There’s nowhere else where I'd rather be but with you.” You whisper softly, and the light squeeze you give to the back of his neck only makes him melt into you. “I’m yours, always will be.”

He held you tightly, his head raising for your neck so he could kiss your forehead. “And I'll always be yours, always.” he murmured, his lips still brushing your forehead as he did. He had to stay like that for a few more seconds before he could manage to properly look at you.

The amount of love and adoration that your gaze held for him made him turn into mush. He could never understand, probably never would. But somehow he had managed to make a place for himself in your heart, even if he didn’t deserve it. And when he saw your face again, looking at him in such a sweet way, he felt like he was being torn apart just to be put back together by your soft touch.

“We’ll meet again, Si, on a sunny day.” you whispered softly, your hands moving to cup his cheeks. “Until then, keep going for me.” Your thumb brushed his cheekbone, your eyes always so kind looked into his.

“We’ll meet again.” He whispered back, his eyes closing as you pulled him into you once more, swaying the both of you. The soft motion started to make him feel more and more tired, the lack of sleep finally taking its toll as his breathing slowly evened out, his hold on you a bit more lax yet heavy.

“I love you, Simon.” You whispered, pulling him into the most loving kiss he had ever felt. His head leaned back against your shoulder as you held him close. And as he slowly drifted off into sleep, all he could feel was the touch of your lips on his, your body around him and the soft whisper of your love.

By the time Simon woke up it was almost midday. His brows furrowed as he felt around the bed, what used to be your side of the bed cold. His eyes slowly opened as he took in the room, as empty as it had been since your funeral, nearly everything hidden in the closet or under the bed so he wouldn’t be constantly reminded of what had happened.

He let out a deep sigh, moving to your side of your bed and tightly hugging you pillow to his chest. His eyes closed again as he pulled the covers higher, and a smile appeared on his lips when your i love you resonated in his ears.

He’d do it, he’d keep going only so he could meet you again.

[artingstarvist]

...

[dansconcepts]

Diner AU - “86 'em!” Pt. 1

I make SO many mistakes at work, it's kinda insane. Because of that energy, I thought it'd be fun (and therapeutic) to delve into some of our wonderful protag!servers' learning journeys and working through bad experiences because we're all human (unless you're not, which is a-okay too @/Kiibo @/AlterEgo). This also became more angsty than I intended (particularly with Shuichi omg). This idea was inspired by @kelperings' doodles for this AU in this post (specifically Hajime walking away because of pickles hAHA). Check it out! She's an icon!

Starting off with an anxious Shuichi having difficulty with making eye contact with customers.

Okay, there's a person at Table 12 ordered the burger and he has to get them fries after, the family at 13 wanted another straw, he has the water for 5, 9's been waiting too long, haven't they? He needs to get their orders soon. 15 wanted the check... Wait, did another person just come in? He has to get to them after too. He's going to need 1, 2- “SHUICHI! Bro, how’s it going?”  -3 menus, he has to get them some water as well. What did the family need again? No, wait, deal with the water first... but he needs to say hi to Kaito, he doesn't want to be rude! “Sorry Kaito!” He quickly blurts out, and it sounds out of breath even to his own ears. “I'm doing great, just got some tables to finish up! Lunch rush, you know?” The detective gnaws at his lip. Straw done, get the cheque, drop off this water... “Oh, my bad bud. I'll be right over here!” Ah, there's someone about to leave, just gotta walk past them, don't make eye contact, you already have too many things to think about right now... the server drifts his gaze downward. Okay, everything's fin- SPLASH! He jolts upward, his gaze meeting widened plum eyes and the noticeable wet spot on his white shirt. “Oh god! Kaito, I'm so sorry!” This is all his fault, if only he looked up more. ” “Hey, it's all good man! I shouldn't have been standing here, it's totally my bad...” At the corner of his eye, he sees the bright apron of his coworker approaching. “Hey, is everything okay?” Komaru asks. He nods. Distantly, she can hear him asking Kaito if he needs some tissues, but he's too focused on the ground and the litany of all your fault, look what you did Shuichi, you can't get anything right. “Shuichi.” A soft voice cuts through. “Hey, it's basically time for your break anyway. Go and take it! I got your tables covered, just be a little more careful, okay?” Komaru says it kindly, but it still hits him like a bullet. He wishes that he had his hat with him. “Of course. I'm really sorry, it won't happen again.” Komaru's white shoes leave his peripherals, meaning she must have walked away. The ends of Kaito's long purple coat remain, though. He feels the familiar slap against his shoulders. “C'mon Shuichi, let's go outside. We can talk there if you want, yeah? It's really all good.” He's been through this before. He needs to step out. Just follow Kaito. He wills his feet to move next to the other's. Feeling the fresh air against his face, no one else in sight, his breath returns to his lungs. He lets himself stay there. In and out. The sky is cloudy today. In and out. The fog in his mind feels less hazy now. In and out. I made a mistake. I feel terrible about it. It impacted people I cared about, which makes everything so much wor-. In and out. Just stick with the facts, Shuichi. I made the mistake because I tried to avoid eye contact, which I still struggle with. In and out. I have improved, but it was what I relied on for a long time, so it's understandable I can get back into that habit. It doesn't mean I've failed myself. It doesn't mean it'll keep happening. You're working through it, you know that. You're okay. I'm okay. No, that's not right. I will be okay. He's certainly feeling a little better, at least. He turns back around the corner, seeing a cross-armed Kaito perched against the wall. Upon his entrance, the astronaut straightens, looking at him expectantly. “Hey Kaito, sorry for giving you such an unpleasant dining experience...” “Are you kidding?! When I said I'm here to support you bro, I meant that in every way.” The corners of Shuichi's mouth lift. “How're you feeling?” “Feeling better. Thanks for being here, Kaito.” He's nestled into a side hug. “Anything for my sidekick!” “Hey, for your meal, it's on the house, okay?” “You don't have to do that!... But I ain't gonna object.”

And a sleep-deprived Shuichi.

Another busy day. Another glass to fill. Caffeine rushes through his veins as he lazily pours the pitcher. When did he last go to sleep? When was Komaeda's rope case? Was that yesterday or two days ago? Genuinely, it's concerning how nonchalant the man was about an attempted kidnapping... At least he helped him figure it out. Hopefully that provides him some peace of mind. “Hey!” Someone yelps. Well, that certainly woke him up. He darts upward to see the furrowed brows on the male customer's face. Did he pour water on him? He checks him, but he's fine. Instead, there's a small puddle formed underneath the glass. “Oh sorry sir, I didn't mean to overfill it-” “Where the hell's your manager!? I'd like to talk to them.” Luckily (or unluckily), Makoto is already within earshot and comes over. Immediately, the man is angrily discussing the origins of the spilled water, and Makoto sends him off to fetch another glass. As he walks away, he hears him quickly following behind. “Hey. While it definitely isn't great, I get mistakes happen. You're going to be more focused though, right?” “Yeah, sorry about that...”

Also:

“Oh Shuichi...” Kaede frowns, gazing at her friend's sleeping form on one of the booths. His position doesn't even look comfortable, but she knows the booths are comfy enough. And he looked so tired earlier... “It’s okay, let him rest.” Makoto chimes over her shoulder. “We're nearly closing anyway.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

And here's a highly stressed Hajime giving the wrong dish(es) to the wrong table(s).

He places the plate in front of Komaeda, already ready to rush over to the next person because that one asshole is glaring at him for not getting his damn soda, like damn, it hasn't even been that long! “Hajime.” Does he have time for this? “What.” He hisses out, perhaps a little more tersely than he should, but it's Nagito. He's definitely heard him act worse. “Why is there-” The guy shudders, “rice?” Rice? Why the hell would there be rice, he knows he hates that shi- His eyes meet the plate. Fuck, he got the wrong one. He turns, and sure enough, the lady who ordered the fried rice meets his gaze with a confused tilt of her head. She eyes the dish in front of Nagito longingly. “Wrong table, huh? It's okay Hajime, it's really expected of a Res- Hajime? Hajime, why are you already walking away?” Yeah, he's not in the mood for the reminder. The last thing he wants to think about is his exams. Fuck, they're going to be the death of him. He unceremoniously plops Nagito's correct plate in front of him after returning the fried rice and even getting that other guy's soda, just for good measure. “Here you go. Enjoy.” He scowls. The other opens his mouth, but he's already walked away. He darts toward whoever he's supposed to pretend to be civil in front of next, and blond hair enters his vision, a silver-haired girl across from him. Is that who he thinks it is? When he approaches them, Fuyuhiko greets him while Peko nods her head in acknowledgment. Wow. “Hey guys.” He allows a smile to peek through. “Hey. Saw what happened over there with Komaeda.” The blond starts. Ah. Is he seriously about to get a lecture right now? “Yo, no judgment man, can't say I don't get it. Especially since Natsumi told me you guys have exams coming up?” He feels his mood further tank at the reminder. “I'm fine.” He huffs, pursing his lips. Where is he going with this? “Look, I don't want to overstep, or whatever, but like... I know you don't mean your attitude right now, but I don't think that guy knows. He kind of looks like a kicked puppy from here, honestly. And also, you're working. It's unprofessional.” Who cares? He would voice the thought, but, “It is understandable to be angry, Hinata.” Peko says. “Give yourself this moment to collect yourself.” And he listens. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, he nods. He does feel a little better. “Thank you, both of you.” They smile at him before telling him their dishes. After he drops off their order with Rantaro (and he's thankful he's got no other tables to attend to at the moment), he sits himself into Nagito's booth where his eggs sat untouched. Grey eyes glance up at him. “Hajime. I genuinely didn't mean to upset you, but of course I manage to.” He sighs, gritting his teeth. “It wasn't personal, Nagito. I shouldn't have acted that way towards you. I'm just... ugh... I've got some shit on my mind. Exams. Way too much fucking homework. Other stuff.” He braces for the Exams? Seriously? That's what you're acting up over? How pathetic! But of course you're going to be struggling over something so basic. “Oh.” The guy says instead. “Really? I'll try not to be a burden anymore than I have been.” “You-?” don't care? Aren't going to mock me for it? “Your reasoning isn't special, Hajime.” There it is. “It's entirely normal, you know. I know how people act regarding it, and I know how you act. After all, I've been on the receiving end.” Hajime cringes. Their earlier interactions were NOT the best. “So I can't help but feel a little relieved.” Yeah, that's not addressing the actual issue.  “I won't treat you like that again, you know. I-” He ignores the way his cheeks warm. “-respect you. I know other people here don't deserve it either, even if some are assholes.” Like that one guy who said took you look enough because seriously, fuck that guy. “I won't lash you out at you if you don't deserve it.” He pauses. “Until you start acting like a smug asshole again.” Nagito looks down, but he has a smile on his face.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

With Komaru learning there's an etiquette to follow that isn't always told.

Everything's going pretty well! Just another hour and she'll be back at home in her comfy, comfy bed. All she's gotta do is finish up these last remaining tables. She grabs the glass and starts pouring water from the pitcher in her hands. Alright, that's done, onto the next one. “Um, hello?” Their voice, suddenly gaining an edge, cuts in. “Can I have another glass?” She tilts her head. Another glass? “But I just refilled it?” “Yeah, but you touched where I drink. Did you even wash your hands?” Huh? Well, she definitely washes her hands, that's literally a part of her job description. All she did was just grab the glass... what's wrong with that? “I’m sorry?” The server says, both confused and slightly irritated. What is happening? She didn't do anything weird! She does this at home all the time! The customer scoffs. “You should be!” “I-! Well!”. She frowns, but tries to remain upbeat. “I apologize! Let me get you a new glass!” “Could someone who's actually competent get it? Honestly...” Her eye twitches. Seriously? Regardless, she bows her head. “Please excuse me then. And sorry again!” While she's not necessarily running, she does make a beeline to the back. She finds her brother the moment she gets there, currently placing orders on the counter for Rantaro. “Makoto, Makoto, Makoto,” The newer server groans, slumping against the wall like it's free real estate. “I'm so done! What is she even talking about??? Is there something I'm not getting? What did I do wrong?” “Whoa, slow down Komaru. What happened?” “All I did was grab the glass. How else am I supposed to pour the water without spilling it? Should I not be touching the glass at all? I'm a little too clumsy for that...” “How did you grab the glass?” She blinks. How? That's a weird question. At her questioning look, her brother brings a cup and places it in front of her. She mimes holding a pitcher in her other hand as she grabs the cup from near the top, like she usually does. “Ah, that explains it.” Huh? Makoto sighs. “It's a little obvious. It's a hygienic thing for some people. Don't touch where someone would put their lips on the cup. It's safer to just touch the lower half.” “Oh. I didn't know about that...” How was she supposed to know about it though? It's not in anything she's ever read before. Training never brought it up either. It sounds pretty understandable put together like that, even if she personally wouldn't pay it any concern. Komaru huffs. It's not worth thinking too much about it. “Speaking of that, could you go to Table 3 and get her some water? She doesn't want me doing it anymore after that...” The younger Naegi sheepishly grins. “I promise I won't do it again!” “I'll do it if you take 9.” Hazel eyes narrow. “What's wrong with 9?” “Please just do it.” She shrugs. She knows he wouldn't ask if the customers were really weird, so it can't possibly be that bad. “Alrighty, big bro. But you owe me a new manga!” “I'm already doing you a favour!” He yells back, but it's drowned out by her laugh.

[robinsnest2111]

overwhelmed with the feeling of how much I want to leave this hellhole of a house for good

[monsterbisexual]

its so weird how id been seeing the same therapist for like yrs so ofc ive talked abt intrusive thoughts n my whole deal etc n then i talk to 2 different mental health professionals (different therapist while mine is taking time off + psychiatrist for trying meds again) n both of them are instantly like oh well yea buddy thats ur ocd!!

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Last night I was struck by the most grotesquely self indulgent naruto fic idea 😵‍💫

[neraiutsuze]

“It was much better to imagine men in some smokey room somewhere, made mad and cynical by privilege and power, plotting over brandy. You had to cling to this sort of image, because if you didn't then you might have to face the fact that bad things happened because ordinary people, the kind who brushed the dog and told the children bed time stories, were capable of then going out and doing horrible things to other ordinary people. It was so much easier to blame it on Them. It was bleakly depressing to think that They were Us. If it was Them, then nothing was anyone's fault. If it was Us, then what did that make Me? After all, I'm one of Us. I must be. I've certainly never thought of myself as one of Them. No one ever thinks of themselves as one of Them. We're always one of Us. It's Them that do the bad things.”

― Terry Pratchett, Jingo

i wish ppl on this website, and within leftist circles in general, were a little less gung ho about making jokes or statements like "billionaires arent people" "nazis arent people" "police arent people"

there is no level of evil where a human stops being a human. if you decide to kill them for their crimes, then you are killing a human. and sometimes that is justified! oil execs and war profiteers have destroyed countless lives in service of their own sick greed, and given the chance to enact that same violence on them, id probably pop their heads like a pimple.

but it is important that we do not shy away from the reality of that choice. it is a human life that is being ended. a person with interiority, feelings, family.

if we stop considering any group as people, even a group defined by their own evil actions, then we are drawing a line to divide society into persons and non-persons, and stating that those non-persons do not deserve to live.

i hope i dont need to explain why that is a dangerous position to take.

these people and all of their evil, their greed, their hatred, are just as much a part of humanity as art, culture, language, food. they are a part of us that has grown malignant and cancerous, and like a cancer, they must be excised for the sake of the whole--but they are still a part of us, made of the same stuff as us, down to their cores.

evil humans are still humans.

[trannykong]

Wanting to upgrade my computer so I can more reliably play games w/ friends is a feasible goal which is awesome ‘cause for the last few years my main goal has been “don’t kill yourself” so having this as a goal shows improvement in that I actually want something other than to simply not die by my own hand

[catmask]

tbh when i hear some people talk about 'breaking cycles of abuse', it becomes clear pretty quickly who has come to understand that phrase to mean 'since i was a victim of abuse/neglect by my parents/caretaker/s i will do everything to be nothing like them' and that is all. its not a completely flawed way of thinking either - something that hurt you would very likely hurt someone else; through empathy we learn to understand not to hurt others the way we were hurt too.

but what 'breaking cycles' looks like is more complicated than just not being your parents/caretakers - it's about recognizing how the things that happened to you changed you and how you can heal so you don't hurt someone else in turn. the survival skills you learned in an unhealthy enviroment often translate to poor if not unhealthy interpersonal skills in an enviroment where things ARE safe.

its a difficult pill to swallow for a lot of survivors of abuse (trust me, i know) because we have a tendency to simply want our pain to be recognized. by painting yourself as "absolutely nothing like my abuser" you can abstain from recognizing your own harmful tendencies and live comfortably in the role of victim hood for the rest of your life. it can be tempting to do this especially when so many people will do their best to deny what you experienced - almost like leaning into a stuck door that just won't budge.

the problem with this is if you never recognize that being mistreated made it so you LACK a lot of what other people learned from a loving enviroment, you can hurt people pretty badly even when doing your best just not to replicate what your parents/caretakers got wrong.

this also hurts for victims because, when it comes down to it - it's not FAIR. you were hurt for no reason, and most of us will never hear an apology or even admittance from the person who did it - so why do YOU have to change? why do YOU, the person hurt unjustly, have to put in the work?

and i mean. that's what breaking a cycle is. it means pushing against what's fair and comfortable deliberately so that you can stop something that's been repeating. it's work. its not just recognition of pain, it's the purposeful healing and treatment of it. but thats scary, and it's not fun, so a lot of people fall right back into it. its a lot easier said than done.

[1800-lemon-boy]

Adding to this bc why not 🤷🏻

We see how having powers that can cause harm can affect you psychologically (mainly with Percy and Nico).

Imagine Will growing scared of his own powers, not knowing weither he’s healing someone or making them worse.

Imagine him looking at the blood on his hands and thinking about how maybe he killed them. Maybe he lost control of his abilities.

Imagine the fear of helping anyone, using ambrosia or nectar if mortal medicine isn’t good enough.

Imagine him being too scared to touch anyone because he doesn’t know what will happen.

Imagine him hiding his struggles behind a fake smile because he’s meant to be the happy, sunshine, healer boy.

Imagine him wishing he could talk to Micheal or Lee about this and remembering he can’t.

Imagine him looking at his blonde hair with hate.

He looks like a much younger version of his father.

The father who curse him with hands that can heal and hurt.

The father whose traits he inherited.

“No bad, all good”

Are plague powers good?

Is hurting people good?

Soon he can no longer even look at himself in the mirror without feeling disgust at what he can do.

Even if he eventually learns to live with the knowledge that he can hurt almost as good as he can heal, there will always be a small voice in the back of his mind telling him that maybe someone he loves is next.

Demigods never live that long anyway-

<33

I’ve seen a few headcanons (especially in fics) that Will solace actually is naturally brunette but when he was claimed by Apollo his hair turned blonde (weither it’s over time due to sun bleaching or straight away).

And I just wanted to say I love this so much purely because of how heartbreaking some of the implications can be. 🤗

It’s never happened to any Apollo campers before, Will doesn’t know why it had to happen to him, his one sense of normalcy taken away so quickly, his one connection to his previous life- gone.

Will starts to pick up quite quickly he’s not like his other siblings, he’s can’t write and is average at archery. But he can heal, better than anyone else can.

He was different from the start, he was claimed differently, and his gift was different too.

And while still struggling with what to do, at the ripe age of 12 he’s now in charge of a cabin full of kids younger than him, because he was the oldest to survive.

Just imagine how the plague powers would also affect him. Apollo himself said that it seemed Will had gained all of his good qualities and none of his bad.

How would this 15 year old feel that the same hands that can heal can cause harm?

<33

[pastel-peach-writes]

Hello! I adore your writing. Can I request a fic with female arcane characters when they have a touch starved gf? (Definitely asking for a friend ahah 😅)

RAHHH. ARCANE LADIES LETS GOOO. tbh, im not that in tune with Mel and Sevika as characters so they may be OOC. Thanks for requesting!

Arcane Ladies w/A Touch-Starved Reader | Headcanons

╰┈➤ PLOT: Headcanons of Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, and Sevika with a touch-starved lover and/or discovering said trait.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Lower Case Intended (Kinda?), Suggestive Themes (Mel/Sevika), Not Proofread, Short

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

JINX ᝰ๋࣭𝜗᭡

- In a romantic setting (or really any setting), Jinx is touch-starved herself.

- when taking hostages or messing with those in her way, she will often touch them such as stroking her nail along their jawline or grabbing their chin when they're hurt and on their last limb.

- now she does this not because she's a bit insane and wants to add salt to their wounds but because she's curious. "What would this feel like?" "What would happen if I do this?"

- Much like most things in her life, curiosity is the main thing that gets her into trouble

- in terms of touching, you're not exempt from her touching curiosity.

- she'll drag her nails along your spine. cup your cheek and chin, and squeeze you like the baby you are to her.

- it's not until you linger after a hug that she notices your touch-starved like her

– since that moment, she made a mental note to cuddle you, kiss you, or poke at you more

– even if you tell her to stop annoying you or that she should focus on her work and not mess with you, she'll continue to poke and hold you.

– why? well because you're smiling through your complaints and she can't get over that smile you try to hide when you let yourself melt in her touch

–––

VI ﾒ

– much like her sister, Vi is touch-starved herself.

– y'all saw how she acted with Caitlyn and when she reunited with Jinx. She was all OVER them. With you, she's the exact same

– With her, you're more reluctant with touch. You want to hug her, cuddle with her, cling onto her like the clingy thing you are but you're scared to.

– you didn't grow up in an environment where that was normalized so it was out of your comfort zone to go out and cling to someone.

– in the beginning of your relationship, Vi was touchy until she noticed you weren't super comfortable with it.

– when she noticed, she had a discussion with you. – "Hey, are you comfortable with me hugging you 'n stuff? I noticed you get kinda tense when I first hug you." She'll ask you on a random night in the living room. You were hesitant at first, wanting to immediately ease her insecurities and tell her everything was fine.

– But if you lied, even if the lie was more a half-truth, your initial reaction to her touch would be the same. Tense at first then ease seconds into the touch.

– So, because you couldn't do anything but bite the bud, you told her

– Since telling, Vi said she'll help you work on getting more comfortable with touch.

– She'll even tease you when she notices you're more hesitant than normal.

– "Oh, come on," she'll tease you with her arms squeezing around your torso and your cheeks smushing to another. "You know you love it! Ease up, Mufifn."

–––

CAITLYN ᯓ

- With Caitlyn, you literally CANNOT get off of her. Can't blame you though.

- 6' foot something to cling onto? YUM.

- Caitlyn didn't mind your touchiness. She assumed you were that way so she didn't think anything of it.

- It wasn't until she met your family that she saw that your touchy side is something you keep hidden from your family, if not the world.

- You were so stiff around them, uncomfortable dare she say. You kept to yourself, restricted that pretty smile of yours, and you wouldn't let yourself ease into her touch.

- At home, she brought this up to you and you told her that being affectionate wasn't something your family did. To them, holding each other, hugging, expressing hellos and goodbyes with kisses was weird. Unfortunately for you, you're a naturally touchy person so you had to keep that part of you concealed.

- Caitlyn didn't like the thought of you hiding yourself from your blood kin. You didn't deserve that treatment so at home, after the event, Caitlyn went out of her way to be more touchy with you.

- she cradled your head when cuddling on the couch, gave you kisses on the cheek, and when she complimented you on something or congratulated you, she kissed the top of your head while giving you a polite squeeze.

– being super-duper-mushy-gushy-affectionate wasn't something she wasn't used to but she'll do anything for you. Plus, a couple extra kisses and squeezes haven't killed her yet.

–––

MEL౨ৎ

- You didn't care about touch all that much before your relationship with Mel. At the start of your relationship, you and Mel were younger so you had fewer responsibilities. All your free time, literally all of it, you guys spent with each other

- walking arm-in-arm while shopping, resting on each other on hot Summer days with your feet in a body of water, and mindlessly playing with each other's clothes or hair during late-night talks.

- but as she got busier, you saw her less, and seeing her less meant fewer touches.

- Mel wouldn't call herself touch-starved but starved for your touch.

– She'll miss your lingering touches on her fingers while you lay in bed, your lips on her back as you held each other, and your face in the crook of her neck.

– In a way, you both were touch-starved for each other. Maybe even a different word but this is a PG-13 space LMAO.

– at night, you would wrap your limbs around her tight and in the morning, you'd cling even tighter. What do you mean it's time for her to go already? She just got in bed!! (it's been 7 hours.)

– with Mel, your touch-starving-ness doesn't go unnoticed. In fact, whenever there's a time she notices you're more touchy than normal, she'll make it up to you

– And you never once complained about her way of making it up to you.

–––

SEVIKA ⚠︎

- oh lord, where do i start with this one, hm?

– One, Sevika loves the crap out of your touch-starved-ness. She won't admit this out loud but she thinks its the cutest thing in the world.

- She'll see you go in for a hug or maybe a wrap around her arm but then decide against it because of your own insecurities.

- Sometimes she'll take matters into her own hands and wrap her arm around you, pull you into her lap, or sneak a kiss on your cheek but other times she likes to make you suffer.

– "Mm, what was that?" she'll tease with a smirk on her lips. "Oh, did you want to hug me? Kiss me? Cling onto me or something?"

- Tbh, if you're with Sevika, you gotta be a little bit of a brat, right? right. So, you'll refuse the allegations she put on your name.

- That is until she pushes and pushes and boom. Like a perfectly boiled egg, your shell has been cracked and peeled, and the softness of your personality has been brought to light.

– with embarrassment plastered along your body and face, you'll do what you were too shy to before. (Cling, hug, kiss, etc).

- Sevika plays a big game but she loves it when you cling to her because just like you, she's a bit touch-starved too. The only touches she gets on a day-to-day basis are punches, kicks, etc.

- When you swallow your pride at home, you'll pull her down to your chest and hold her tight. She'll ask what's up but you'll just ignore her and she'll melt into your body like you intended.

WC: 1,229

[sanemisstalker]

NSFW /// KNY characters who I think cum particularly hard/ a lot. This could have a part two, I'm eepy, srry.

CW/ Non specific gendered/genitalia reader / Cum... like an insane amount of cum / BDSM Dynamic (ENMU)/ Light Gore (ENMU)/ tbh, Enmu. / Cum-swapping (AKAZA)

Sanemi Shinazugawa

-Cums hards AND a lot.

-Sanemi isn't quite sure why is body is the way it is, maybe it's his breath control mixed with the insane amount of testosterone and panic pumping through his veins on the daily, but Sanemi doesn't struggle to get it up.

-he struggles to stay flaccid. He's far more likely to be hard at any given moment. Not that he's excited, his dick is just permanently stuck at half mast. It takes an insane, highly emotional amount to get him entirely flaccid.

-I think Sanemi's orgasm absolutely shreds him everytime, unanimously. Does that stop him from getting it up in another ten minutes? Absolutely not. I just truly think he's a medical anomaly.

-He cums prematurely, but what does it matter? It literally didn't go down, he's still fucking going, now he's just like, in tears about it.

-I think Sanemi's eyes get really wide and he gets lock jaw, and he seethes and he tries to hold back any noise, but it just shreds the poor guys throat, and now he's sore, and it hurts him to moan, but he just can't help it, you feel so fucking good- and all for him? It's all for him?

-Shakes. Sobs. Sounds incredibly desperate, don't let the facade fool you. If he loves you, he's a crier.

-Also physically cums a lot. Not just by how many orgasms, but by how much each time is. I think he's got an obnoxiously low set of balls. He's made to breed, the poor bastard. If he can't let go in you, both of you are covered in it by the end of the night.

-Sanemi has yet to tap out before you.

Kyōjurō Rengoku

-Cums a lot.

-Rengoku has good stamina, but once he cums, he's done for, no more. He can keep going if he really wants to, or if you look like you really need him, but chances are the first round wad more than enough.

-vocal, but in a fatherly way. Sex with Rengoku is probably very... comfortable.

-Until he cums and now you're sticky from your chest to your upper thigh. The range of his shot is insane. He cums buckets, and he barely blinks. His breathing gets a little ragged, and his chest a little shakey, but that's it.

-He needs to go night night after, though. Feeling any amount of joy that doesn't come from stuffing his face does a number on him emotionally and physically. He needs a cuddle and a conversation about... idk, taxes after.

-Won't beg to cum in you, but really, really wants to.

-He always pulls out like a gentleman (if you can be much of a gentleman when you're balls deep), but you can always tell that he wants to see your face so bad when he pumps you full.

-Will not ask. That'd be rude.

-Talks you through your orgasm, but that's another post for another day.

Enmu

-Fuck, I just know he's a screamer. He cums so hard.

-This guy's a fucking mess, but it takes work.

-Enmu is such a good submissive that you're always shocked when he decides to mouth off to you, or when he forgets a command. Not too shocked, though. It's very clearly intentional. It always is.

-He gives himself a bit in between each 'screw up' to make sure he's edged himself mentally properly (very hard, he's almost always some kind of aroused, and he's prone to cumming untouched, so that build up is a little diificult.)

-While he doesn't struggle to ask for things, and his dignity is subzero, Enmu still appreciates a stray chase here and there. After all, it's the only thing mentally stimulating enough for him to cum.

-In any normal dynamic with Enmu, he isn't often left using his dick. So when you've got a spear through his wrists, locking them behind his back, one hand pulling his hair, the other jerking his cock with thoughtless speed-

-Enmu can never cum harder than when he's recieving borderline abuse. His dick looks irritated, going untouched for months previous, and now it's receiving all this attention. Can you blame him for being this loud?

-His legs shake, his whole body recoils. He drools and screams- laughs and wails. He cries with the brightest smile you've ever seen. His hips buck up. You're not being gentle, and he's so, so happy. The orgasm is ripping through every nerve in his body.

-He feels like he's in the sun again.

-He's hoping Muzan can see him look so pathetic. You're just hoping the demon lord stays out of your man's head.

Akaza

-cums like a horse.

-a lover, truly. That's the only word encompassing enough to describe Akaza's efforts sexually. He's a fantastic lover.

-... who can go for hours... days even and never get tired. Every orgasm blows off his shoulders- It's all about you. It always has been, it always will be.

-You've made him cum hard before, it's a rarity, but it's possible... Its just nothing feels as good to him as watching you cum, so he'll do whatever must be done-

-and if that means pumping you full again and again, until you're leaking from every accessible orifice, so be it.

-He'll lick your hole clean, reveling in the way you twitch after your.... you lost count after the fifth one. That won't stop him from tongue fucking you.

-His cum tastes... shockingly good. You like to give him head, and then come up to give him a kiss. He'll pull your tongue down, wanting to see it in your mouth just before you swallow. You always look so proud of yourself. He can't help but reward you with a kiss before you even get it down.

-there's way to much for one swallow. You can barely manage to keep all of it in your mouth while showing him. Your effort is precious, though.

-Akaza looks really good with cum on his lips. It's one of the only times you see him really flustered.

[brainrotlesbian]

It’s difficult to say. It varies from writer to writer. For me, personally, no, it’s not typically a sexual thing, it’s something else. Sometimes it’s a way to vent off negative emotionsIt’s hard to describe and it doesn’t help that I’m definitely on the ace spectrum. It can be a sexual thing, but it usually isn’t.

For me, whump is loosely associated with kink or smut, just because a lot of things overlap between them, but it’s not the same. It’s a different sensation. There isn’t really the same sense of danger, of “oh no how are they gonna get through this/get out of this” with smut. It’s the worry for the character being whumped that’s more of the distinction. And yes there is the “oh this character would look so pretty bloodied/tied up/whatever” aspect in the whump community but it’s not the same. It’s really the sense of danger/peril that separates them.

So, in short, whump can be a sexual thing but for most people in the community it isn’t. It’s something else that for the life of me I cannot define

OK it's bedtime and I swear this question will stop me from sleeping properly so here's a random poll that I may delete later

[bluesidez]

[The Ideal Gaze]

lab tester: @ichigosluvrr 🩻

pairing: DadBod!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel is feeling a bit out of your league, so you remind him that he’s just in your lane. 

content warning: established relationship (they’re married with kids!), domestic fluff, mild hurt/comfort due to Miguel being an idiot that does not understand The Female Gaze, some miscommunication between reader and Miguel, 18+ so MDNI, a little raunchier than I intended tbh but hopefully I presented DB!Mig well, body worship, heated tension, reader is like obsessed with Miguel’s new Dad Bod, deepthroat 😗, missionary position, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾), the word Ma as a term of endearment from Miguel to reader two times

word count: 5.3k, halfway proofread

a/n: Fulfilling this first because this was technically my first request! I added a few more elements (thank you Miguel server!), so I hope you don’t mind. There were no specific requests other than fluff and smut, so I went with the flow. I hope you enjoy! (Also, I found the original artist's post here!! Go give them some love!)

Your blood is pumping as you round the corner, only a few more steps until you reach the driveway. 

The jog today was pretty refreshing. There were no calls from work asking about things that could wait until 8 AM, no toddler fussing about waking up, and no child whining about getting homework done. It was just you, your FitBit, your steamy audiobook, and the lingering thoughts of meeting your husband’s eyes this morning. Lately, it’s been like a little game to rile him up. 

You’ve been married for a few years and a family of four for seven years with a sweet little girl, a second grader with the attitude of an old lady, and a precious little boy, a preschooler with keen intuition. With your lives being consumed with work and taking care of the kids, you feel like your relationship has been put on the back burner. Long gone were the days in which you two made love at the drop of a hat, fucking on anything that could hold you. Now, you were lucky enough to get a little dry humping.

It was getting depressing, and more annoyingly, frustrating, so you started to put your riled-up energy elsewhere. You were up at the crack of dawn making everyone’s lunches and going on occasional jogs, you were using your PTO for brunches with the girls and spa days, you had regular pilates classes, the real pilates, and most importantly, you were finding small pockets of time for yourself. 

From buying yourself small gifts to filling your Kindle with romance books to pleasuring yourself on the nights Miguel worked overtime. You were sure to keep yourself busy. All of that, and you still couldn’t get the thought of Miguel entangled with you out of your head. 

You heaved out as you stopped at the end of the driveway, taking a few breaths to calm your state. The book you were listening to was on a particularly enthralling scene and you wondered if it was something that Miguel would be interested in trying. 

You looked down at yourself and decided to unzip the top of your athletic jacket, letting the tightness of your bra and the fabric push your cleavage up. One smooth swipe of your clothes and you were walking to the front door. 

It was 6:40 AM, so there was plenty of time to have a little quiet moment with your husband. 

You walked into the kitchen and saw him standing in all of his glory. A newspaper in his left hand, because some things didn’t need to be digitized, a “Best Papá Ever” mug in his right hand, black glasses on his face, and your favorite thing, a naked plush torso on display. 

In the first years of parenthood, his metabolism was through the roof. Despite him joining you for every snack, meal, and midnight dessert, he never lost that tiny little waist or those washboard abs. It wasn’t until your youngest was born and babbling that his appearance started to change. His arms became a mix of muscle and cellulite, his thighs were softer than ever, his chest was full and plump, and his waist widened gifting you with his soft belly and a happy trail that continued to his belly button. 

The early time didn’t stop the coil of neediness in your stomach from forming. 

“Good morning, hubby,” you say with a lilt to your voice. You walked closer to him, an extra bounce in your step, and leaned on the island. 

Sure enough, Miguel was peeking at your chest from over his glasses, mug hovering over his lips. 

You only smiled coyly, waiting for his response. 

“Good morning. How was your jog?” he puts the newspaper and mug down, folding his arms under his chest. 

You stared at his bulging arms, pressed-up pecs, and his tummy that moved with him and almost whined. 

“It was really good. Super nice and refreshing. Maybe a little warm,” you crossed your legs, impatient. “How’s your morning so far?”

“It’s better,” he says, making the short distance to crowd your space. He leans over you, hands going to the island. “My wife is here now.”

You smile at his words, hands itching to touch him but not wanting to ruin the stride. Instead, you look up at him and pan his lips. 

“I’m feeling better, too,” you whisper, waiting. 

Miguel leans forward to press his lips onto yours, the smell of coffee hitting your senses. You feel little fireworks go off as he starts to open your mouth. Everything felt just right in this moment. 

When his hand slid across your back, you almost jumped up to wrap your legs around him. You tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. You could feel yourself slipping against the counter, but Miguel was right there to steady you. 

For what felt like hours to you after so long of a heated connection, the two of you made out on the kitchen island. Only some birds chirping, the occasional car passing by, and the hum of the washing machine could be heard next to the sound of you both breathing into each other’s lips

“Come with me to the shower?” you say, eyes heavy and pleading. 

You could feel Miguel tense up, back rigid as he moved back. 

“I better stay. Raul might wake up soon and he was having a hard time sleeping last night.”

Your heart dropped at the rejection. You were hoping that this would be the one, the moment that you’ve been anticipating for months. Some form of sexual connection. 

“Ok. I’ll be out soon,” you turn and go to the master bathroom, tugging the zipper down hastily. You felt a bit dejected and embarrassed, but you’re trying to let it go. Your mommy side knows that your youngest woke up in distress last night so it makes perfect sense that Miguel wants to be alert for his cries, but your wife side wants her husband back and can’t help but feel like he didn’t want you. 

With this brisk shower, you hoped this self-doubt and neediness washed away with it. 

You tapped your fingers against the desk, staring off at your computer. Work today was slow, which you didn’t mind because that meant you could frequent your watchlist, but your mind kept wandering off while watching some random K-drama. 

Last night, you woke up to what sounded like Miguel getting off in the bathroom. 

He got off work super late that day, so you took the initiative to get the kids to bed and go to bed early. 

What you didn’t expect was to wake up to the sound of his grunts coming through the bathroom door. 

At first, you were a little hurt that he didn’t wake you up to help him out, but then you were so overcome by the sound of him whimpering and moaning that you couldn’t help but pleasure yourself. 

He sounded so desperate and wanton, cursing every once in a while. You bit your lip as you imagined him right next to you, voice right in your ear. You wanted his weight on you. You wanted to feel his skin against yours. 

You lay in the empty bed rubbing yourself until you came, his noises stopping a while before you finished. You were hoping he would come out and see you so you prolong your orgasm to no avail, sleep coming to claim you before he did. 

When you tried to ask him about it in the morning, he kept avoiding your eyes, saying something about his stomach giving him the blues. 

You let it go then, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about it all day. 

In a spur-of-the-moment decision, you decide to text him a flirty message, running to the bathroom to take a picture to match. You waited a little bit, hoping that he could take at least a peek. 

“You look gorgeous, honey.”

Just gorgeous? Not hot? Not good enough to make him want more?

You scrunched your mouth to the side, asking if he could send a picture back.

“Baby, you know I can’t. I’m at work right now.” 

You huffed at that. You knew he was just in his lab by himself. There was plenty of time and solitude to take a picture. He used to send random pictures of himself all of the time. 

For the rest of the day, you were irritated, feeling slighted at the hands of your husband.

You took a break from trying to seduce your husband, tired of the pushback. You put your all into taking care of the kids and maintaining the house when you could.

“And how many sticks does that leave Cassie with?” you asked Gabriella. You both were at the dining table with her math homework sprawled everywhere while dinner was in the oven. 

“27!” she shouted, voice becoming more confident over the course of the math sheet. 

“Correct! You’re knocking ‘em out, girl!”

“Buen trabajo, mija,” Miguel said with vigor as he came by to kiss the top of her head. “You’re doing so well.” (Good job, mija.)

“Does this mean I can get a cookie?” she asked, quick to melt her father’s heart.

“Not before dinner, Gabriella, you know this,” Miguel bounced Raul in his arms, a little fussy and sniffly. 

“Please, papá!” she looked up at him with big brown eyes and a pout.  

Miguel sighed, unable to say no to her 9 times out of 10. 

He looked at you frantically, watching you snickering behind your hands, “You have to ask Mamá.”

Whenever he really wanted to say no, he used you as a trump card.

Gabriella’s shoulders drop as she turns to you, already knowing the drill.

“The answer is no. You can wait until after dinner,” you say, squeezing her cheek.

“You always say no,” Gabriella whines dramatically, slumping in her seat with her arms crossed, pout just like her dad’s.

“And you can always go to bed with no cookies,” you chide as you get up to go check on dinner. “Now go put your homework up and wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.”

She puts her papers back in her folder with the theatrics of a Broadway actor, sighing dramatically with each step she took to her room.

Miguel laughed at her actions watching her leave, “She’s just like her Mami when she gets like that. Fussy.”

You pause to put your hand on your hip, “No, she’s just like her Father when she can’t get her way. Whiny.” You open the oven and pull the lasagna out to the stove to cool a bit. 

“Well, I can’t say no to her just like I can’t say no to you,” he says, placing Raul at the table with a hand running over his soft hair. “You both have the same puppy-dog eyes.”

“You like leaving the hard parenting to me.”

“That is not true. I just tussled with a four-year-old to get him to take his cold medicine and made a promise of not one, but two bedtime stories,” he says, coming up behind you as you reached to get the dishes. He got them down for you instead, hand on your hips and stomach pressed against your back.

You bite your tongue in order not to will your negligent, horny brain from awakening. You didn’t have time for those thoughts, little feet were near, and every advance you gave him ended in failure. 

“Is he doing ok?” you say, referring to Raul he sat at the table with his head down, a teddy bear hugged against him as he pitifully moved his toy car back and forth. It was definitely a big shift from his usual talkative demeanor.

“We might have to go to the doctor again. His allergies are really acting up.”

You leave Miguel’s side to go squat down by Raul, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

You rubbed his back, trying to see if he felt warmer than usual and sure enough, he was burning up.

“My throat hurts, Mama,” he said, little voice just about gone. 

“Oh, I know, my sweet baby,” you say with a soft voice. “Do you want me to make you some alphabet soup?”

Raul’s face twists up, lip a little wobbly, “But I want some cheese noodles.”

“Hey, it’s ok!. You can have some lasagna. I just want your throat to feel better. Hot things will make it feel better.”

“The cheese noodles are hot, too.”

You smiled, “That’s right, the cheese noodles are hot, but I mean a hot liquid.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, hands squeezing his teddy bear as he thought, “Can I have hot chocolate?”

“Of course you can. Can I give you a kiss?”

He nods his head slowly and you lean over to kiss his head. You needed to get him under the covers soon. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around your neck, snuggling up to be held. You couldn’t resist holding your baby, especially when you couldn’t take his pain away. 

You get up to see Miguel helping Gabriella plate the slices of lasagna on each plate and setting up the side salad. Your heart filled with joy watching them giggle over the stretchy cheese. It was moments like this that reminded you that you were taking the right steps, that this was the perfect little life.  

As they set up the table with the plates and drinks, you kept Raul in your arms, ready to help him with tonight's dinner. 

“Thank you for the food, Mommy,” Gabriella said with a toothy smile. 

“You’re welcome, baby,” you say, cutting Raul’s food up even smaller, not wanting him to struggle any more than he had to tonight. 

The table was quiet, save for Gabriella and Miguel smacking their food occasionally and Raul’s wheezy breaths. 

By the time dinner was over, Gabriella was buzzing in her seat for cookies, and Raul was close to falling asleep in your arms. 

You couldn’t ask for anything better. 

With Raul sound asleep, Gabriella tucked in bed, and Miguel watching cable, you had a moment to yourself to think. 

Did today’s small touches mean anything?

You stood in the bathroom moisturizing your skin after a hot bath. You said you were going to stop trying to fish for your husband’s attention, but if you were honest, today’s brief moment of connection did it for you. You couldn’t stop your thoughts once you were alone.

You decide to wear just a pair of panties and one of his old t-shirts to bed: a look that wasn’t trying too hard to get his attention, but you’re sure he’s going to notice it. 

You sat on the bed and decided to read until he came into the room. You hope you were giving a sexy girlfriend vibe. Your skin was all smooth, you smelled good, and you knew you looked good. 

When Miguel walks in, he pauses at the door to stare at you. 

“Why are you looking at me like that? Come to bed,” you say. 

Hook, line, and sinker. 

Miguel shuffled over, eyeing you from head to toe. He looked delicious in his tank top, fabric stretched in the best possible ways.

He crawled on the bed next to you, “My band t-shirt?”

“Yeah! It’s comfy.”

He rubbed his hand up your naked thigh and your nerves started to sing. Any further up, and you might just wet your panties from his touch alone. You missed it so much. 

He leaned over to kiss the juncture your neck and shoulder, your neck, your cheek, and then he stopped. 

He just…stopped.

“Well, I gotta go in earlier tomorrow, so I’m going to sleep early. Is it ok if I turn this light off?

You felt your throat dry up, “Yeah, ok.”

He got under the sheets and switched his lamp off, leaving you in the dark with the faint light of your Kindle illuminating the room.

“Goodnight, honey,” he said with a yawn. 

“Night.”

You turned your Kindle off and just sat in silence, his snores breaking the illusion of the dark consuming you. 

You’re starting to think the worst. 

You kept up a number of tactics subtle to glaringly obvious to appeal to your husband from changing up your perfume to what you would say was an amazing strip tease. Absolutely nothing is working. 

He kept listing off excuses from the kids to his job to his parents to his brother, anything to avoid an intimate session with you. He even chose a night out with his boys over a night in bed with you which was jarring because he always made you feel good before going out to have a good time. 

Did he not find you attractive anymore? You knew childbirth brought a lot of change, but you were still the same woman he met and fell in love with. 

Did he not love you anymore? He often praised you for being a good mom and his pet names never stopped, but after that, his declaration of love for you had been very surface-level.

Is he cheating on you?

You really didn’t want to entertain that thought, but your heart couldn’t take any more pain than it already had. 

So, one day when you say you’re taking the kids to the park, you drop them off at your mom’s place instead, hoping that if there was something going on, no little hearts would be broken once you unleash a beast in the house. 

You pull back in the driveway to see that he’s still here, just as you suspected. You make your way quietly through the house, inching closer to you all’s bedroom. 

Your heart almost stops when you hear the sound of Miguel’s voice, high and breathy in a way that should only reach your ears. You don’t think when you swing the door open, adrenaline pumping high.  

Miguel yells, scared to death but alone. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, voice frustrated.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?”

You look at the state he’s in, shirt up, waistband under his dick, and a mystery fabric in his hand. 

“Were you getting off?” you say, hands dropping to your side. “Do you…do you not love me anymore?”

“What?”

“Do you. Not. Love me anymore. You avoid me every time I’ve tried to initiate something with you. We haven’t made love in so long. You keep making excuses to not be alone with me. You don’t even want to do normal things with me like send pictures or makeout until we’re out of breath. I’ve heard you in the bathroom during the night and now you’re here doing the same thing, without me, your wife.” Your eyes start to water after it all, feeling utter defeat. 

“Cariño, this is a misunderstanding,” he pleads, voice distraught. “I do love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“Then why are you doing this to me?”

“Because,” he pauses, fixing his clothes to have some decency. “I…haven’t felt the greatest about my body.”

Your tears dry up as soon as the statement resonates, “What? What do you mean?”

Miguel sighs.

“Lately, it’s getting harder and harder for my old clothes to fit me anymore, I’m way too busy to hit the gym and more than anything, I think you deserve a man who’s a little less,” he gestures to himself, “let go.”

“Says who?”

He looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads, “Uh, everybody?”

“Well, who is everybody because I’d like to strangle them for letting you think that my husband isn’t good enough for me.” You walk deeper into the bedroom crowding Miguel’s space. “You’ll always be perfect for me. The vows I promised to you will not be broken over something so normal as weight gain.”

He looked like he could cry. 

“Why did you hide you were feeling this way, baby?” you hold his head in your hands scratching at his scalp. 

“It felt stupid and silly. You’ve been doing so well socially and physically, I wanted to see if I could fix it on my own before bringing you down with my problems.”

“Miguel O’Hara,” you say, gripping his jaw firmly. “I’m your wife. I might not be able to solve everything, but at the very least, you need to talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling, express yourself with words. Don’t hide.”

He wrapped his arms around you, sniffling, “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

You pressed a long kiss into his scalp, rubbing his back. 

“Oh my gosh,” you chuckled. “You were feeling so much internally, meanwhile I was practically screaming at you to fuck me. I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore.” 

So much for communication. 

Miguel just burried his face in your chest while he groaned, “That’s the thing! You were driving me crazy with your tight little workout clothes and your lingerie. You looked so good, but I couldn’t get out of my own head. I’ve been…”

“You’ve been what?”

“I,” he got red in the face. “I’ve been using your underwear.”

You look down to Miguel’s crumbled up hand and it was in fact your underwear from the night you wore his band t-shirt, drenched in his essence.

Your stomach turned with excitement.

“So this is what you were doing in the bathroom in the middle of the night, hm? Using my panties? Giving them more action and attention than me?”

Miguel nodded, eyes hazy.

“Did it feel good?”

Another nod.

“I bet it did. I would wake up and hear you trying so hard to cum.”

You don’t know how, but his face got even warmer.

“You left your poor wife all alone, thinking about you on top of her until she came too.”

“I did?”

“You didn’t know?” you ask, playfully. “I was up all night imagining you walking out to see me. I wanted these arms to come and hold me.”

You squeeze at his arms on your sides. 

“I wanted your weight on me. I wanted your chest against mine.I needed you so bad.”

You move to sit in his lap, knees on the side of him.

“You do such a great job of being a father. This beautiful change in your body is only proof of your hard work and dedication. It’s proof of love for your family.”

Miguel only melted in your hands, face a cloud of emotion.

“I love you, Miguel. I adore you. I yearn for you. I want you.”

With every declaration, came a kiss to his lips.

“Can I show you how much I love you?”

“Please.”

With that, you took his shirt off and made your way down his chest. You lingered around his chest, holding his pecs as you kissed them all over. You couldn’t stop your moans as your tongue felt across the hairy planes of his chest, sucking and pulling on his nipples. Miguel shudders as you pay special attention to them, sensitive after not being with you for so long.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” you breathe into his skin. You slide onto the floor and just press your face into his stomach.

“You like it that much?”

“Love it. You look so yummy walking around. You could be just standing there and I get so,” you cut yourself off, trying not to overwhelm him with just how much you were feeling. “You’re hot, baby.”

You kiss down his happy trail to reach his pants, his stomach twitching. You tugged a bit too hard on his pants, causing him to laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” you say with a pout. 

“I haven’t seen you like this since we won that couple’s retreat.”

“Not my fault. You were all sexy up there, beating the other husbands with your big brain. It was doing something to me.”

You finished pulling and you could almost cry with joy when Miguel’s cock springs next to your head. The sound you make when you see it also has Miguel wound tight. 

Completely taken over by your neediness and desperation, you pull one of his thick legs over your shoulder, kissing and sucking on the skin while your fingertips dance around the entirety of his length. 

The display of strength shocks Miguel who drips and whines at your actions. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” he whispers. 

You cup him while you take his head in your mouth. It felt like pure bliss to have that familiar taste in your mouth. With the way you were humming, Miguel can tell that you were about to put him to sleep. 

You took no time letting your tongue stretch to take more of him in. Your cheeks hollow as you go further, one hand kneading at the thigh you were holding and the other switching from fondling him to wrapping around the base of his length. 

“God,” Miguel’s voice filled the room, the loudest it had been for the past few months. “I don’t think I’ll last that long.”

You let go of him and lick down the sides, “That’s because you’re too busy fucking other things instead of me.”

“’M sorry,” he whined as you went back down on him. “I-I was still thinking of you and, ngh, wanting you.”

“Mm hm,” your voice sent shocks down his spine as you didn’t let go. He moved his hips steadily, dick sliding in and out of your mouth and pudge occasionally pressing against your face. 

The faster he went, the noisier the sounds got. He moved his hands to your head, thighs eerily close to tightening around your face. You couldn’t have it any better. 

You dug your nails into his hips, throat contracting in order to take him in. Even with your jaw slacked, it’s been so long since you took him like this that you gagged more often than not. With every sound of your throat struggling, Miguel shouted your name, hands gripping tighter on your hair.

You could tell he was close by the way his thigh was tensing on your shoulder, so when he said the four words, you took him to the hilt, face completely pressed against him. 

“Shit!” he felt like passing out as he released into your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, but you couldn’t take it all, saliva and cum esxaping down your chin to his balls. 

He grunts when he pulls you off, chest moving sporadically. 

You lick your lips and let out a satisfied sigh, “Finally.”

Miguel could only chuckle as he laid back on the bed. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his thighs with a smile. You rub your hands on the skin of stomach, slowly getting to his chest, “I’m like, really wet right now if you want some more painties to use.”

He growled as he pulled you closer.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” you say, popping the P. “I really want you to do it in front of me. Maybe send me a video for the nights you work overtime.”

He had the nerve to look embarrassed as he wrapped his arms around your back, “I might be able to arrange that.” He kissed your lips to distract you from speaking on it further.

After Miguel returned the favor with his head between your legs, the both of you were enjoying a quiet moment together before having to go pick up the kids.

“I can’t believe you thought I was cheating on you,” Miguel said as you were drawing circles on his chest.

“Miguel,” you say, lifting your head. “I pulled all the stops. I did things that I knew you loved: the t-shirts, going commando, the flirty pictures. I even brought whipped cream to the bedroom and you told me ‘I can’t eat that, it’ll blow up my stomach,’ when you were literally in the kitchen taking shots of it the night before.”

“Ok. So I see how you might have gotten to that ludicrous conclusion, but did you not notice how much I’ve been staring at you?”

You clicked your teeth, “Yeah, but what does that mean when you don’t act on it?”

Miguel twisted his lip, “Will you feel better if I told you that your work pictures turned me on too?”

You pinched him resulting in a yelp, “I’ll feel better right now if you give me a shower round.”

He pulled you in his arms as he got out of the bed, “Let’s go before your mom calls.”

You giggle and swing your feet on the way.

After your afternoon of praising his body, Miguel emerged as his previous confident self. This meant more days with him walking around shirtless, more quickies in the morning, makeouts that ended in pleasure, him smacking your ass, you smacking his ass back, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.

Right now, Raul was down for a nap and Gabriella was enjoying her tablet time. 

You, however, were clawing at Miguel’s back like a cat as he pounded you into the mattress. 

“Fuck!” you shouted, eyelids fluttering as Miguel’s cock dragged across your walls. “It feels so good.”

“Quiet, mi vida,” he whispered. “The kids are in their rooms.”

You were quick to cover your mouth, moans muffled. It really didn’t matter because the creaks of the bed were just as loud as you. One change in position and the headboard denting the walls could be added to it. 

It was all too much. 

First, he woke you up with kisses down your body and a promise to lighten your load around the house. Then, he got the kids up and prepared breakfast with the help of Raul. Later while you were out running errands, he sent you a coupon for a spa that just opened up down the street and warm message. 

Now, he has you losing your mind with his hips slapping against yours, whispering praises in your ear.

“Miguel!”

“Hm? Talk to me.”

“I-I can’t-” your voice keeps getting louder unintentionally. He was so calm while he was reaching so deep inside. Your mind was hazy, wanting nothing more than him to keep going.

“You’re doing so good, Ma. You’re so good to me and the kids. You’re such a beautiful wife. Such a pretty Mama. Just wanna make you feel good.”

You felt yourself clench around him at his words, tears falling across your temples. He kissed your tears tenderly, strokes getting deeper. 

“M-Miguel,” you say with your heart full. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. So, so deeply,”

That was all it took for you to suck him in and scream into his shoulder, nails digging into his shoulder blades. His release was soon after, painting your walls with his lips pressed against your ear.

“Papá! You have to be more careful,” Gabriella fussed with her hands on her hips while Miguel was in the kitchen trying to make the family a snack. “You got hurt at work!”

Miguel paused and reached behind his back, fingers roaming over the healing scratches on his shoulder from his last session with you. 

You covered your teeth with your lips as Miguel turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised. 

“It’s ok, mija. Papá is tough!”

“But you gotta put something on it,” Gabriella said with a huff.

“Thank you for your concern, nena. I’ll get Mamá to take care of it, ok?” he ruffled her hair as he handed her a plate of bunny-shaped apple slices. “Now go sit with your brother and watch some TV.”

Miguel huffed as he walked up to the side of you with his arms crossed.

“What? You should put your shirt on!”

“That’s not what you said when you-”

“Hush and go get the aloe.”

Miguel snickered as he gave your lips a peck, “Yeah, yeah.”

Life was wonderfully sweet.

With that, my first request is done! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

[themultifanshipper]

Who knew practicing your makeup skills on Lando and Oscar would lead to this.

Vaguely based on the time I did my ex's makeup and we got unbearably horny because of it

Warnings: filth, absolute filth, smut, threesome, spit, PinV sex, PinA sex, double penetration, the inherent eroticism of doing someone's makeup, the inherent eroticism of landoscar in the same room, Landoscar being kinky little fuckers. I'd say pwp but tbh the plot is like 3 sentences.

You'd spent two years being a makeup artist on the formula 1 media team. Which was great, it payed well, you'd made some great friends, you traveled all over the place. It was a lot of people's dream job, really.

But you had to admit you were getting bored of covering zits and five o’clock shadows all the time (and hickeys but shhhhhh) and you were hoping for a bit of a change of routine.

That change came in the form of an offer to become the official f1 Academy makeup artist.

Sure it wasn't exactly Cirque du Soleil but at least you'd get to do a bit more than just pandering to male egos.

So before the end of the season, you thought you'd get a bit of practice in by doing some of your friends makeup.

The problem was the only friends you had access to while traveling were formula one drivers, or in other words, men.

So you roped your two best friends in the paddock Lando and Oscar into letting you do their makeup one afternoon, in the comfort of their motorhome bathroom, where the lighting was best, and the presence of a sink was convenient.

You grabbed a chair from the other room, which happened to be quite large, so it took up most of the space in the bathroom.

You did Oscar's eyes first, that way you could alternate between the two so they wouldn't have to stay still for too long.

You instructed Oscar to close his eyes, then you stepped closer, shaking the tube to get the liquid flowing.

Having Oscar under you, so pliant and at your mercy with his eyes closed sent a shiver up your spine and you hesitated for a second, you mind conjuring up other scenarios where you two could be in this position. Then you quickly came to your senses and eagerly applied the black liquid in a sharp wing.

The angle was a bit weird but you got through it, and when he opened his eyes to look at you, your breath caught in your throat. He was beautiful. Not in a particularly feminine way but it really fucking suited him, it made his deep brown eyes stand out. You were almost jealous.

Then it was Lando's turn. They swapped places, Lando settling on the chair while Oscar sat on the floor.

You uncapped the lid and went to start Lando's liner, but the angle was even worse due to their slight height difference.

You huffed. “Hang on I need to get closer, this is killing my wrist.” You thought for a second. “Can I sit on your lap? I promise it'll be quick”

Lando’s eyes widened a fraction but he nodded and you straddled his thighs, your legs on either side of his.

Plot twist, it was not quick. He couldn't keep still long enough and you kept having to stop to let him scratch his nose, beard, neck, etc…

You got a bit frustrated at his fidgeting so you grabbed his jaw, perhaps a bit harder than intended, and held him in place.

“Stop moving!” you ordered, and he became weirdly stock still suddenly.

In your concentration you didn't notice how close your face had gotten to his, and how his pupils dilated more and more, the closer you got.

You shifted on his lap as you tried to get the right angle to do the last part, but you must have hurt him because he gasped and scrunched his eyebrows together as his hands flew to your hips to stop you from moving.

“Shit, you ok? Did I hurt you?”

“Nope, no it's fine just…” he exhaled shakily “just don't move around too much” he gulped as he avoided eye contact. His breathing had picked up a bit and you didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable so you hurried the rest. But you had to admit, sitting on Lando's lap with his hands squeezing your hips was making you hot, and slightly dizzy.

Oscar was looking curiously at the interaction from the floor, eyes darting from your faces only a few inches apart, to where Lando’s leg was starting to twitch, to his hands on the meat of your hips, to the way your fingers were digging into his jaw to keep him still.

You managed to finish quickly, and as you got off him you noticed the mirror was starting to steam up a little bit. What you didn't see was the way Lando adjusted his pants before getting up to let Oscar have his turn.

“Holy shit, mate. It looks really good on you” Oscar was almost in awe as he got up, now slightly higher than eye level with Lando.

The two of them sort of stood there looking at each other’s eyes with an intensity you'd never seen in them before, then seemingly remembered where they were before clearing their throats and shuffling around awkwardly to switch places.

"You wanna..."

"Yeah, thanks"

You took the lipstick out of your bag, applying a bit to a brush before grabbing Oscar's jaw the same way you had Lando’s, and tilting his face upwards. His hand naturally came to rest on your waist as you sat down on him, you didn't mind. He swallowed and the movement of his adam's apple caught your eye.

“You okay?” you whispered, looking into his eyes from above.

“Yeah” he replied, the deafening silence that followed almost overwhelmed you so you quickly started swiping the brush over his bottom lip.

You took the liberty of using your thumb to wipe some excess off, and it grazed Oscar's tongue.

He gasped and you swore, about to apologise, but when you looked at his eyes you were shocked to find them closed, as Oscar opened his mouth just a fraction more, inviting.

When you didn't say anything or move for several seconds, he looked up at you through lidded eyes and you understood. He was turned on.

You didn't dare move. You glanced at his lips then back up to his eyes and he did the same.

“Oscar…” You breathed out, barely even loud enough to be considered a whisper.

In guise of a response, he pressed your hips down and rolled his upwards, and the groan he let out was almost akin to whimper. He was so hard you could feel him through all the layers.

You chanced a glance down to where Lando was sitting and the look that met yours was overwhelming. He looked like a siren, painted eyes also lidded as he looked at you and Oscar, mouth hanging half open as his hand palmed his obvious erection through his joggers.

“You two are so fucking hot” he whispered, and you looked back at the man you were currently grinding on. Oscar looked so fucked out you might have blacked out for a second, dropping the makeup brush on the counter and grabbing Oscar by the hair to pull his head back ever further, exposing his neck. You trailed kisses along his jaw before settling below his ear to bite at it lightly.

“You want to fuck me, Osc? Give this little freak a show, huh?” You ground your hips down harder and he groaned out a curse at the ceiling before sliding a hand around your neck to close the gap between you.

His lips were slippery thanks to the half-applied lipstick, but he made up for it by sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and your hips stuttered against his as you felt Lando's hands start to work at your clothes…

You weren't sure when the plan changed, but you found yourself riding Lando instead of Oscar on the chair, while Oscar guided your hips at a leisurely pace as he sloppily made out with Lando over your shoulder.

You haven't truly lived until you've witnessed that.

Suddenly Oscar had a thought and slowed your hips down to a slow grind. You were sweaty and your legs were aching so you were thankful for the break.

“Can you take us both?” Oscar asked.

You and Lando froze. You frowned at each other.

“What?”

“Do you think” he started, trailing sloppy kisses down your back, hands going lower and lower. “you can take us both?”

“As in…?” you trailed off as he got to the dip in your lower back.

“As in both of us…” his hands came down to spread your ass as he kissed the end of your tail bone. “… at the same time.” His thumb stroked over your rim and you shuddered in Lando's embrace.

“I've never done that before” but you could feel yourself getting wetter at the prospect.

“Do you want to try it?” Oscar asked, still level with where you and Lando were joined.

You didn't take much convincing, and as soon as he had your consent, Oscar surged forward and licked a stripe from where you were split open by Lando, up to where his last kiss had landed.

You moaned as he spread you open and and spat straight onto your puckered hole, watching his spit slide down your skin to Lando's cock inside you. Lando swore as you tightened around him and pulled out so that he wouldn't come too soon. You took the opportunity to arch your back, presenting yourself to Oscar as Lando stroked your hair and kissed you sweetly.

Oscar wasted no time, he dived in with expert precision, stretching you out with his tongue, then a finger, then two, dipping them in your cunt first to get them nice and wet.

Soon enough you were panting into Lando's chest and dripping over his thighs, overwhelmed by the new sensations taking over your body. When Oscar got to four fingers he pulled out and gave your ass a quick spank before dipping his cock into your wet folds once.

When his tip breached your rim, he stopped to let you adjust for a second, before continuing to slide into you slowly.

The drag of his cock inside you was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, and you felt like you were going to come any second, just from that.

Lando chose that moment to slide back into you, slightly less on the edge than before, but as soon as he was fully inside and nudged your g-spot you came with a shout as your body clamped down on the two cocks inside of you. The feeling so intense you swore you could see colours burst beneath your eyelids as the waves crashed over you and wetness dripped between the three of you.

Oscar groaned as he realised you were squirting, probably also for the first time.

Lando couldn't help himself, his hips moved of their own accord as he chased his high, and the stream just kept flowing as Oscar followed his lead, both men incredibly close to orgasm themselves.

The feeling of the two of them filling you up with their cum was peculiar but indescribably erotic as you came down from your high with them.

Turns out the worst part of aftercare with Lando and Oscar, was having to instruct them on how to remove their (now slightly smudged) makeup.

Your legs were too unstable to move so you barked orders at them in the bathroom until they were done. Then they came to bed and lay on either side of you, hands wandering over each others bodies as the three of you drifted into bliss

Looks like your days of covering hickeys weren't quite finished yet.