#we can do better. we can absolutely all do better.
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ianthesmells · 13 hours ago
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well for starters he couldve believed what she told him <3
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He never noticed it
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fanfictionismyaddiction · 2 days ago
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Dummfucks of the Grid
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word count: 760
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Summary: After a disappointing P6 finish at the São Paulo Grand Prix, Lando Norris finds comfort in his girlfriend Y/n's fierce support as she playfully criticizes the other drivers and team principals
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As the door to Lando’s driver’s room closed, the noise of the paddock celebrations faded into the background. Lando sat on the couch, his head in his hands, feeling the weight of finishing P6 after a race that had promised so much more. The disappointment was palpable, especially with Max winning again.
Y/n moved swiftly to sit beside him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Hey, Lando, P6 isn’t the end of the world. You gave it your all out there.”
He sighed, his frustration evident. “Yeah, but I wanted to do better. With Max winning again, it feels like I keep falling short.”
“Falling short?” she echoed, shaking her head. “You didn’t just fall short; you navigated a field of absolute clowns out there! Let’s talk about it. You know I’m here for you.”
Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Care to elaborate?”
“Okay, first off, Max. He drives like he’s playing Mario Kart and thinks he can just take everyone out with a blue shell! I mean, does he not understand that sharing the track is part of the job? It’s like he thinks he’s invincible! It’s ridiculous!”
He chuckled, a small smile breaking through. “That’s a good way to put it.”
“And then there’s George Russell, who finished P4 today. Honestly, he acts like he’s the golden child of the grid. ‘Look at me, I’m so talented, watch me throw my weight around!’ It’s like he forgets he has to race, not just pose for the cameras. Every time he gets near you, it’s like he’s trying to play bumper cars!”
“True,” Lando said, laughing harder now. “I can feel the ego swelling every time I see him.”
“And don’t even get me started on Leclerc! He’s out there racing like he’s auditioning for the role of ‘Most Likely to Crash Into a Wall.’ It’s like he has a special talent for making the race more dramatic than it needs to be. How does he always manage to be on the brink of disaster and still finish? Is it a gift or a curse?”
Lando nodded, now thoroughly entertained. “He does have that knack for drama, doesn’t he?”
“Absolutely! And then we have Carlos Sainz. I mean, bless him, but he’s trying so hard to keep up with Leclerc that it’s like watching a puppy chase its tail. Poor guy looks so lost sometimes, you just want to give him a treat and a pat on the head! But he gets a pass because he’s your friend.”
“Right? Carlos is actually a good guy,” Lando said, shaking his head, amused.
“And then there’s the team principals!” Y/n continued, her passion bubbling over. “Christian Horner thinks he runs a royal court every time Max crosses the finish line. ‘Look at my king!’ as if it’s not a team effort. And Toto—he’s not innocent either. He struts around like he’s the head of a fashion show! Honestly, if I had a dime for every time I’ve seen him making dramatic hand gestures in the pits, I could fund a whole new racing team!”
“Okay, that one’s a good point!” Lando laughed, feeling the tension ease with every word.
“Seriously, I would fight every one of them for you if it came down to it. Size doesn’t matter when you’re this passionate!” she declared boldly. “I’d take on Max, George, and anyone else who thinks they can just push you around out there!”
“Y/n, you do realize you’re only 5’6, right?” Lando replied, grinning. “How are you going to take on all of them?”
“I may be small, but I’ve got a big heart and a bigger mouth!” she shot back, her eyes sparkling with defiance. “Just imagine me storming the paddock like, ‘Back off, or I’ll unleash my fury on you!’”
“Please don’t start any fights in the paddock,” he said, his tone light but earnest. “I love your spirit, but I’d rather not deal with the fallout. I need you here, not banned.”
“Why not? It would be entertaining!” she countered, smirking. “I’d tell them all off! ‘Listen up, dummfucks of the grid, stop getting in my boyfriend’s way!’”
Lando laughed, the sound genuine now. “You really are something else. Knowing you’ve got my back means everything.”
“Absolutely! If they try to block you from winning, I won’t hesitate to step in,” she said, snuggling closer.
“Just promise me you won’t do anything too crazy,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face. “I love your fierceness and protective side, but let’s keep you in the paddock, okay?”
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trashytracktales · 1 day ago
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Love the Lando fic. I am soooo desperate for a really smutty Max fic. He’s been feeling down that he hasn’t been winning and his best friend jokes she’ll give him head if he wins the sprint in Austin. You can guess the rest. I really in some need for friends to lovers smut
So we ride | MV¹
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none of my works are available for reposting on other platforms.
© trashy track tales, 2024
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💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for loving my previous work!! I hope you like this one as much 🤍🎀
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𐙚 summary ──── She’s been there for him even before his career in F1 took off. And now that Max is struggling, there’s no other place she’d rather be than beside him.
𐙚 pairing ──── Max Verstappen x she/her reader
𐙚 rating ──── explicit
𐙚 category ──── F/M
𐙚 warnings ──── +18, smut, descriptive language & descriptive paragraphs (because I can't stop yapping), mature/sexual content, fingering, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, Filthy Mouth Max, swearing.
𐙚 word count ──── 4.4k
𐙚 date ──── Nov. 4, 2024
𐙚 a/n ──── I swear I planned to make an absolute filth out of this one, but somehow, I low-key ended up giggling and kicking my feet by the end. Nice 👌🏻
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THE DISTANT CHEERS still reverberate faintly from the paddock as she waits by herself in Max's room.
She has no idea why she's suddenly nervous. It's just Max. Her Max. Her best friend.
She's been in his driver's room countless of times before, but something has shifted. The energy is charged, somehow, with the weight of everything that’s changed between them over the past month. He’s been making more effort to be in her life, but even though she thinks he does it only because he needs a break from his hectic life, she's not complaining. Quite the opposite.
They’ve been talking day and night, sharing calls and endless text conversations. Every message, every call, and every laugh they’ve shared has pulled them closer, blurring the lines that they’d always kept so carefully intact.
Memories creep in like old songs she can't stop replaying in her head while she rests in the small space that smells like him — a delicious, subtle scent that lingers wherever he goes, a clean mix of sandalwood and a hint of leather from his racing gear, with just a trace of something so uniquely Max.
Without having the privilege to stop her mind, she lets it wander to the first time they met, long before Max secured his seat in Formula 1. Even though he was only a teenager at that time, he was ferocious and resilient, and anybody could see the determination behind his eyes, to the point it was almost impossible to turn and look away.
At least that's how she remembers him.
From that day on, she’d been there for every milestone. Every point earned, every setback, every win, every lose, every title, every new girlfriend, and every break-up. She never questioned him, even when others criticized his aggression on track and his obsessive desire to win. She was aware that he had a cause to fight for and a lot to prove. And she understood that in a way that Max had told her no one else did.
She knows him better than anyone. Maybe because they go so far back. Or because he trusted her enough be unapologetically himself around her. They had always had a tight bond and, at some point, they ended up giving in to temptation. They were each other’s first, and even though both of them were so bad at it, that moment still remains until this day a mix of curiosity and comfort that neither of them had found elsewhere.
But they were young and very much not in love, and they didn’t want to lose themselves in the process. It made more sense to stay friends, because when it comes to relationships, timing is everything. He was going to be away all the time, and she couldn't wait for him — not that he would have ever let her do that. Max Verstappen is selfish in every aspect of the word, especially when it comes to the people he cares about, and she has always been his soft spot.
Being far too deep in thought, she barely hears the door open, flinching slightly as Max storms in, a tight smile plastered on his face.
“You’re here?” he asks in surprise, the second he sees her laying on the two-seater couch.
The first thing he notices is a papaya orange cap, and a Red Bull jersey that she stole from him two seasons ago, neatly tucked into her black skirt.
“Well, you won,” she shrugs, articulating her words, thoughtfully. “That was a cute drive.”
Max laughs, tracing a hand through his messy hair, “Cute?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in her direction.
“And simply lovely, congrats!” she giggles at the use of his catchphrase.
His skin is glistening with a mix of sweat and that post-win adrenaline that's still in his system. Even though it was just a sprint race, a win is a win. She can tell he’s tired, but he’s more alive now than she’s seen him in weeks. The second half of the season is not treating him well, and it has been hard for Max — though not impossible — to keep the cofidence up, given that the top step of the podium seems to get further and further away with each race week.
He even told her that he misses hearing the Dutch national anthem. Coming from Max, that means something.
It's frustrating, but he manages.
“Thanks,” says Max, leaning against the door as he unzips his suit, tying a knot with the sleeves around his waist.
She can’t help but take him in — his messy helmet hair that she always makes fun of, but secretly finds very, very attractive, the damp collar of his racing suit, the helmet marks imprinted on his rosy cheeks, and the muscles in his forearms flexing as he crosses his arms, still buzzing with energy.
“How’s Martin?” Max continues, the corner of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk while he crosses the room to sit next to her.
The room itself it's pretty small — just the couch, a table with his water bottle and energy drink scattered on top, and a change of clothes resting on a shelf nearby. But despite its plainness, Max’s presence fills every inch of it.
“He had the nerve to shush me when I started singing your song after you crossed the finish line,” she admits.
Max laughs again, a deep, rich sound, making the walls seem to hum with it. He leans back, his arm draping over the back of the couch, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating from him. His scent is still there, more pronounced now that he's actually in the room and so close to her.
“You looked amazing out there,” the girl continues, turning to glare at Max, “Like you were fighting for more than just a win.”
“And you were in the wrong garage to see it. Isn’t that so sad?” he asks, his gaze softening as he studies her.
With a gentle touch, he takes her cap off and throws it across the room.
She gasps dramatically, pretending to be affected by his gesture, “That's bully behavior.”
“No, that's hideous and it ruins your pretty outfit.”
“Just say you're jealous, and I won't wear it again.”
“I'm jealous,” Max admits it in a heartbeat, making her breath catch.
There’s something raw in his expression, something he’s kept for himself for a long time. He reaches out, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, the back of his fingers lingering against her cheek.
She bites her lower lip as she looks down at the tiny gap between them, trying to act like none of this is making her head spin, “Good to know. I'll come in full papaya gear at the next race.”
Max gives her a ‘don't push it’ glare, his hand sliding from her cheek to rest just a fraction of an inch away from hers. “I didn’t expect you to be here,” he murmurs, his voice rough with somethings she can’t quite decipher.
“I told you I'll come if you win.”
They both pretend to believe her insinuation, even though they know she always cares about Max, not just when he wins races. Which circles back to the conversation they've had last night, and the way she tried to motivate him; it's been on their minds constantly throughout the day. It was just a joke, sure. But still, Max took the podium, and unconsciously credits her with a small percentage of his performance today.
When their eyes meet again, the air is suddenly suffocating, as if the past is racing back between them. She has no idea who moves first and, somehow, Max's hand finds hers, warm and steady. It’s just a simple gesture — delicate, innocent, but somehow it feels like so much more. It anchores them in the present. It keeps them aware of each other.
“That's the thing, no? You’ve always been there for me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even when I didn’t deserve it. And I want you to know that I never took you for granted. Not once.”
“Max…” she's not often at a loss for words, but when she hears his, it's hard for her to say anything else.
Every barrier they had both put up and every wall she had ever created around their friendship seems to be collapsing the moment Max starts caressing the soft skin of her hand with his thumb. There is an undeniable desire between them, and they are both aware of it. However, their bond is much more important than a passing feeling. Right? A feeling that forms like a warm ball in her stomach, and makes his heart pound even faster when he notices her breath intensifying.
“In my eyes, you always deserve it,” she assures him, deciding to intertwine her fingers with his.
“Is that so?” he challenges her.
She nods, “You deserve to have everything you want because I know how hard you work to—”
Max leans in, just slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I wants us.”
Her heart races as she meets his eyes — a flawless ocean blue, in which she would gladly bathe. Or drown, even.
“I want you,” he continues, his free hand traveling to her bare thigh, squeezing it slightly, “I want to stop pretending like you’re not driving me fucking mad, and that I don’t care who you’re giving your attention to.”
For a moment, they both hold their breath, his forehead dropping against hers.
“Is it clear enough what I want?” asks Max, and she nods again. “No, baby. I need words,” he frowns against her skin, as if it pains him not to get her confirmation. The confirmation that he waited so long for, but didn't feel he had the right to ask for.
Until it was too much.
Until now.
“I hear you,” she finally replies. “But what if—”
“If, if, if,” he cutts her off. “I don’t give a fuck about imaginary scenarios anymore. If it's not what you want, tell me to stop, and I will.”
But she doesnt.
Instead, she spreads her thighs wider to make room for his hand to move forward — all the confirmation he needs. He grins instantly, closing his eyes for a split second, living the same feeling he gets when he's on the podium after a hard-won race, letting it all soak in.
Max’s hand is trailing further up her thigh, unable to help but keep the smirk on when he realizes that whatever they feel for each other, is mutual. He runs his finger lightly over the top of her lace panties, letting out a low sigh at the way her body responds to the slighlest touch. In return, she wraps her arms around Max's neck, looking at each other in anticipation. They know it right away — it’s like the fall of the Bastille, the moment before a revolution, when restraint gives way to a desire too powerful to ignore. They both know that after this, there’s no going back, no way to rebuild what’s been broken or control the outcome.
They know it’s not a calculated risk, and it can end so badly, but when Max leans in to kiss her — a kiss meant to suck every ounce of doubt out of her — the walls come crashing down. They melt into it, all the tension fading away. The hand between her thighs is now working her at the same pace as the kiss, soft whimpers cascading from her into Max’s mouth, making him lose it.
He almost can't believe this is really happening. But it’s as real as his win, and all he needs for tonight to get better is to bury his fingers in her cunt, preparing her for his cock, and pump her full of cum until none of them can take it anymore, just to make up for all the time they've lost while they were dancing around their insecurities.
Without any warnings, he drops to his knees between her legs as she lets her head rest on the back of the couch, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths.
Max decides to take it slow.
Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he is afraid that maybe this is just a momentary lapse, and he won't get to have her like this for who knows how long. Therefore, he needs to take his time, savoring everything she's willing to give him. Now.
He gently pushes the thin fabric of her panties to the side, running his index finger over her slik, getting coated in her wetness even before he's halfway up to her clit. His thumb starts to gently rub against her warmth in circular motions over her soft skin of her moud, automatically feeling the urge to look up at her as she clasps her hands against the edge of the couch, her knuckles turning white.
His mouth goes dry.
“God, do you always get this worked up?” asks Max with a husky voice, trying to ignore how annoyed he gets at the thought of her pussy dripping as a result of someone else's touch. “Has anyone ever made you this wet?”
She shakes her head, covering her mouth with her hand, but Max is way too focused on parting her folds with his fingers to register her whimpers and the way she's fighting to keep quiet — these rooms are not only narrow and practical, they also have extremely thin walls. Plus, her glossy, red clit is more captivating than any answer she'd give him.
The truth is, he doesn't even care, because his only goal now is to ruin her for whoever comes after him.
“So pretty,” he muses, pressing one digit inside, her pussy growing wetter as it tightens around his finger. Which encourages Max to add one more right away, gently scissoring them to stretch her out. “Fuck,” he exhales, as she pushes her hips into his hand.
“Max…” she drops her hand just as he's curling his fingers inside, touching her sweet spot repeatedly, pumping in and out with precision.
“Does that feel good, schatje?
“So. Good,” she whimpers, closing her eyes at the feeling.
Max’s fingers start moving faster, establishing an agonizing pace, his eyes watching her reactions intently, seeing her back arching.
“Look at you, fuck,” he swears, leaning in to graze his lips against her thigh, leaving tiny kisses in their wake while he keeps his eyes on her.
A few more pumps of his fingers are enough to feel her clench hard around him, and finally letting go. Her moans are echoing in Max's ears like a siren call, tempting, potentially dangerous, while his fingers help her riding out her orgasm. His free hand is gently caressing her side the entire time, his lips pressing harder into her thigh, which makes her moan again.
“Gotta be quiet, baby. I can’t fuck you in here if you can’t keep quiet. And you want me to, yes? You want your sweet cunt fucked until you cum around my cock?”
“Mhm... The mouth on you, Verstappen,” she pants as quietly as possible, while grabbing his shoulders to pull him on top of her.
He helps her getting rid of her panties altogether, while their lips meet again in an explosion of new emotions, each more and more intense. Max knows their options are limited since it's such a small space, and doesn't hesitate to pull her into his arms, flipping them around so now he's laying on the couch, while she straddles him. His hands are instantly landing on her waist, listening to her giggle at the sudden change of positions.
“Hi,” Max smiles at her, his face radiating with pure excitement.
“Hi,” the girl parrots, wrapping her arms around his neck, tenderly playing with her fingers in the hair at the back of his head.
“You good?”
“I’m great,” she says, returning the smile.
“I fucking want to, but we don't have to if you have the slighlest doubt,” Max reminds her. “I'll jerk off in the shower later.”
She presses the pads of her fingers on his swollen lips to shut him up. “I want to,” she assures him, “I'm just scared it'll ruin us.”
Max cups her chin in his hand, his eyes heavy with understanding and the desire to prove her wrong, “Not gonna happen.”
“How are you so sure?” she asks, swallowing hard.
“I'm not, but I'll give you head if—”
She bursts out laughing as soon as she realizes Max is quoting her, “You are absolutely outrageous.”
Max keeps his hold on her waist as she shifts around, a slightly nervous but excited breath leaving his chest while she gets comfortable on top of him. “Tell me what you want, schat.”
In response, her fingers start fumbling with the knot he tied around his waist earlier, tugging at his fireproof with an urgency she can barely contain. Once her hands are making contact with his bare chest, warm and firm, she's sliding the rest of his racing suit past his waist, until it pools around Max's hips. She feels the rush as he pushes the rest of it down his legs, sucking in a breath of air at the sight of him.
“Max, you…,” she swallows the lump that got stuck in her throat, raising her eyes to look at him, slightly worried; nothing could've prepared her for how big Max is. “I've never heard you bragging about your dick.”
He chuckles at her words, his eyes turning into two adorable crescents moons on his face.
He's changed a lot over the years, of course. Max was only 16 when they had sex for the first time. But seeing him under her like that it's just a reminder of how small she feels against him now. His big hands can encircle her waist if he wanted to, and his arms could easily break her if he held her too tightly.
She looks down and notices the stark contrast between them: his broad shoulders, his strength, and their heights.
With her body nearly dwarfed by his, she is overcome with trepidation as she questions whether they will even fit together. However, she notices that Max is already trying to ease her concerns without saying a word, as he lifts her chin and meets her eyes with a tenderness that releases all the tension.
“You can take it, baby,” he assures her, guiding himself towards her entrance.
She lowers herself on him, slowly, intently, so easily that her hot cunt is practically sliding along his length, forcing Max to swallow a moan at how her wetness spreads over him. He pushes his hips forward, impatient, watching his cock disappear between her thighs. It drives them both absolutely crazy.
The intensity, the intimacy and all the places they make contact would normally be way too much. But then, Max pulls his hips down, only to fuck back in, feeling her relaxing on top of him.
The fit is perfect.
Her body is finally full. Complete.
“God, look at you,” he almost chokes, palming her ass under the skirt to help her spread more around him. “You're so beautiful.”
She cries out a moan, feeling as if her body gets split in two in real time, in the best way possible. His cock is so big that she's pretty sure she can feel him between her lungs.
Max means to say something else, but his words get stuck in his throat as the air gets knocked out of his lungs. A gasp leaves his parted lips as she sinks down on him completely — finally — his arms immediately wrapping around her waist, holding onto his girl like she's his lifeline. His chest sparks with a goran as he looks at her, the blue in his eyes darkening at the feeling.
“So tight, baby, I can’t wait to fuck you,” says Max, his hands getting lost under her shirt, palming her breasts. “You feel so good already. Gonna make me cum so fast,” he adds in a breathless mess, his heart pounding in his chest at the feeling of her body against his.
It’s a consuming feeling, that leaves them both senseless.
Max starts to move slowly, guiding her up and down his cock, until they set a steady rhythm. They're an amalgam of moans and gasps, as his hands rest on her waist tighter than before, fucking in deeper with each thrust. The sounds they make and the way they hold each other brings them together in a new way. It's scary and exciting and far too risky, but none of that matters now.
All that matters is the way she holds onto him, mouth ajar as they look at each other. She uses him to anchor herself while she sinks deeper, again and again, until pleasure is all she knows.
“Oh… Max. Max, please,” she beggs, the sound of them connecting reverberating throughout the entire room.
At the sight of her flushed face and parted lips, Max’s jaw clenches, his eyes trailing down her body to where they’re joined, just to see how she takes him in with such ease. The image causes a low groan to leave his mouth, his fingers digging into the skin of her thighs. She takes him so well, to the point of getting his own thighs wet as her pussy drips with their combined pleasure.
“You feel so fucking good on me, love. So good for me, that’s it,” he moans softly, his eyes falling shut to allow him to feel her everywhere in his body.
“Max… I can’t… Please, it’s too much.”
His eyes snap open to look at her again. Hearing her on the edge of desperation and feeling her body starting to shake with pleasure on top of him, it’s enough for Max to take charge, even though he’s not the one on top. Without a thought, he moves his hands back on her waist, holding her still as he lifts up his hips to start moving from underneath.
“Hold on to me, baby. I got you.”
He manages to send her to a whole another realm as he intensifies the pace, while the sounds of their bodies slapping together animates the room.
“That’s it, fuuuck. Let me take care of you,” he's breathing hard between thrusts, feeling dizzy as his climax builds, the heat in his stomach burning hotter.
He’s consumed by her in the most satisfying way — she is all that he feels and sees, her body pliant over his, her sweet noises in his ear being the only thing he can focus on as he looks at her through his lashes.
Max’s name cascades from her mouth, over and over again, until she starts clenching around his length — he knows that she’s close, and he’s right there with her.
His breath sounds shaky when he speaks again, “Where do you want me, baby?”
She knows that it's not a good idea for him finish inside her, but the thought of Max owning her like that gives her goosebumbs all over her body.
“Inside,” she gasps, burying her fingers in his hair and leaning over for a messy kiss. “Want to feel you...”
“Yeah, you want me to fill your pretty pussy? That you kept from me for so long?” asks Max against her jaw, his voice coming out in a low, sultry moan, just as a few drops of sweat gather along his hairline.
He lets his head fall back with a low groan, fucking his cock deeper and making her see stars in the process.
“Oh, god! Max,” she gasps, her voice coming out almost like a warning.
He takes it as an invitation to fuck her harder, feeling her tensing, then becoming boneless on top of him as he rides her orgasm. Max follows closely, moaning loudly as his hips move slopply, spilling inside of her, rolling his eyes at the feeling of her body milking his release.
“So fucking good, schatje.”
She wants to agree with him, but her mind is far too foggy and all she can do is run her hand over his skin, which is slick with a thin layer of sweat. She cups his face in her small palm while her other hand rests on his neck, sealing their lips together in a much slower, tender kiss.
Their tongues meet in a slow dance, tasting each other, making Max smile under it. She presses her forehead on his, a content smile appearing on her face this time, both of them completely blissed out.
Max’s hands runs along her thighs, admiring the feel of her soft skin under his touch as he speaks in a low, husky voice that still sounds breathless, “How the hell are you real?”
“Don’t ask me anything for the next five business days.”
He chuckles softly, giving her one more kiss before helping her up so he can gently pull out of her. She gasps again at the emptiness he leaves behind, feeling Max’s cum mixed with her own release oozing out of her. He swallows dryly, forcing his hand to gather up the result of their pleasure and fuck his fingers back in her cunt a few times before she collapses on top of him.
Max softens under her, tracing his hand through the waves of her hair, and for a moment, he looks as though he might say something. Something that could change the entire trajectory of their friendship.
Friendship.
He puffs out a laugh at the word.
“What?” she asks, curiously raising her eyes to look at him.
He looks so incredibly beautiful as he breathes slowly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. When it comes to Max, his beauty goes beyond his appearance; beneath the fierce, self-assured driver the outside world perceives, he displays now a softness and sensibility that only she has access to.
“You still owe me a blow job,” he murmurs, his breath warm against her skin.
A laugh escapes her, soft and giddy, but as she pulls back, the intensity in his gaze remains.
Oh, he’s serious.
“I’ll find you tomorrow, after the race,” she says, her voice soft, almost as if she’s making a promise.
“What if I don’t win?”
She laughs, “A podium also counts.”
For now, that’s enough for him.
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thank you for reading!
reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎
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bonniepop · 2 days ago
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sakusa pulls away from your kiss-swollen mouth with a soft, wet smack, and your eyes dart to find the soft swell of his lip before looking up at his eyes.
you’re in an isolated corner of a parking lot near a commercial center; he’d just had a lunch date with you, your treat—a trade, for picking up your parents from the airport for the holidays.
“something wrong, kiyoomi?” you ask softly, adjusting so you can press yourself closer over the hand break. his hands are warm against your face, cupping either side of your jaw, but your hair brushes over his skin as he pulls away.
“i’m…” he starts, a little uncomfortable. he swallows for a second and his eyes flash to the phone in your lap. “did their flight take off already?”
he watches you you look down and grab your phone, the screen bathing your face in a soft glow.
“not ye—” your phone buzzes. “oh, wait. their flight took off just now.” you read the text, “‘plane taking off, will call when we land.’”
he hums and nods. “okay. they’ll get here in an hour, right?”
“yeah.” you cast him a glance and a smirk. “you nervous?”
“a little,” he admits. he reaches over to pat your thigh. “first time i’m meeting them, after all.”
“they’ll like you, don’t worry,” you tell him softly, depositing your phone in a cup holder before reaching forward to press a kiss to his mouth again.
it starts slow, but builds and burns, and sakusa can’t take it. he pulls away again, and the confusion on your face is cute.
“am i doing something wrong?” you ask, and he can't help but crack a smile.
“no, no—the opposite actually,” he murmurs. there's a brief pause, but it's long enough for you to see him think.
"hm?"
he clears his throat and gently takes your hand.
you wait patiently before raising your eyebrows when he slowly guides your palm over the erection tenting his dark jeans. your eyes stay latched with his, and you know that he can see the flush of mild embarrassment blooming on your cheeks.
“oh. oh,” you breathe in realization, and your eyes flash up to meet his. “do you…" you bite your lip. "do you need some help?”
something warm fills his chest when you say it. he's thinking of taking you up on the offer, but when your eyes glance to the back seat, he shakes his head. “love, no,” he chides you gently. “your parents will be sitting there later.”
you nod and purse your lips in thought. the options are limited. first, you live half an hour away, but you only have an hour left until your parents arrive. second, the parking lot you're in is fifteen minutes away from the airport, so going home isn’t an option. third, sakusa doesn’t want to have car sex, albeit with good reason. (you're kind of with him on that one.)
he picks your hand up from his arousal to press a soft kiss to your fingers. “i’ll be fine. is it… do you mind if we wait it out?”
“are you sure?” you ask, a little invested. you weren't going to lie and say you didn't want to, considering that for the next week and a half your parents would be in the picture, effectively cutting into your alone time. “maybe we can… i don’t know, maybe a motel? but you find those disgusting—”
“absolutely not,” he deadpans, and you nod. something occurs to you.
“your—well, how about the boys’ place—”
“no.”
“okay. um.” you lean closer and kiss the spot where his jaw meets his neck, plucking your hand from his hold and sliding it over his thigh. “i can use my hands, if you like,” you mumble against his skin. “my mouth, maybe?”
“i don’t think i’ll be able to look your parents in the eye if we have sex in this car before i meet them,” he grunts.
you frown, a little put out. you were trying to help him, but it seemed like every option you presented was a bad idea. "well. we can wait it out, then.”
you pull away and slump in your seat. maybe you were being a little petulant because your parents were flying in to stay with you for the holidays, but you know better. this was a deliberate attempt to snoop around your and sakusa’s relationship—through specially setup lunches, as he had to bunk it with the rest of the msby boys, albeit against his will. there was no way in hell your parents would be okay with you living with a boyfriend.
which meant that as long as they were around, there would be no sex.
after a moment of disappointed, awkward silence, sakusa speaks. “i think komori doesn’t live far from here.”
you press your lips together. “will he mind?”
“i can ask,” kiyoomi mumbles, and whips out his phone. a few taps and a few whooshes later, he drops his forehead on the curve of the steering wheel and groans. “komori’s not home.”
"oh."
he lets out one of the deepest sighs known to mankind. "on second thought," he says, looking pained. “the boys don’t… live far, from here.”
“i think hinata’s our safest bet,” you say carefully, not wanting to seem to excited, and he nods. he taps into his phone again, and a series of pings makes his phone buzz.
sakusa looks beyond disgusted. “atsumu replied with hinata’s number.”
“well,” you respond, trying to look on the bright side. “at least we have options?”
“he just said he keeps condoms in the kitchen,” he says with despair.
“at least he knows where they are,” you mumble, reaching forward to grab his free hand. “come on, love. we don’t have a lot of options, and if we take any longer to decide, we might be late when we pick up my parents.”
you watch him think, again.
"or we can go for the next week and a half with zero sex," you declare, "which is also fine by me."
he grumbles as pockets his phone and pulls out of the parking spot.
(you end up being fifteen minutes late, but their baggage carousel was delayed, so it was fine.)
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rjalker · 3 hours ago
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made with speech to text and I'm not fixing the goddamn typos you can all figure it out
This post is also relevant to nonbinary people and the OP has decided to get extremely upset about somebody gently saying this in the notes instead of just saying yeah I should have mentioned nonbinary people, because this post is literally not fucking exclusive to binary trans people.
And it's literally just exordexism to pretend that this is only an issue that binary trans people face and deal with.
Non-binary people are constantly ignored and erased when people are talking about trans issues, this post and the topics it deal with are not in any shape or form exclusive to binary trans people, the only reason non-binary people aren't mentioned is because of x or sexism. Opie, you're being non-binary does not make this apparently purposeful exclusion of non-binary people from this post any less bigoted, and I was going to fucking ignore it until I saw your absolute fucking flip out in the notes from somebody literally just saying don't forget non-binary people.
If you are making posts about trans people, literally just put in 2 seconds of effort to remember that non-binary people besides yourself exist. That we exist. Almost every single fucking post about trans people on this website is always about binary trans people, and yes you are in fact directly contributing to the erasure of non-binary people by not mentioning us on this post that also applies to us just as much as it does binary trans people. It doesn't matter that you are also non-binary, that just means you should know better.
Not every post on this website needs to apply to everyone, and that's literally not what anyone is fucking arguing, but this post is literally applicable to all trans people, and it is literally x or sexism to not mention non-binary people. It literally fucking is. And if you are more upset by somebody literally just gently saying don't forget non-binary people then you are the fact that you wrote this whole fucking post and didn't mention non-binary people once, I don't know what to fucking tell you You're just extra sexist and contributing to extra sexism that is rampant on this website.
If the post is talking about a topic that is exclusively dealing with something that only binary trans people face, then sure go ahead and do what the fuck ever but there are hundreds of posts on this website that talk about issues that all trans people face like this one that make no mention of non-binary people at all because people are extra sexist, and you are not magically excluded from being extra sexist because you are also non-binary
Your response to the person in the notes just gently asking people not to forget that we fucking exist is you being extra sexist. All you had to do was say yeah you're right. But you instead flip out and pretend like it's a fucking hate crime for somebody to ask you to include non-binary people in your posts about trans issues that affect literally all of us. You are acting like non-binary people are just demanding absolute perfection and all of this bullshit by literally somebody just asking don't forget non-binary people. In a post you made about trans issues that affect all of us where you only mentioned binary trans people
If you want to actually fight extra sexism and transmisia, you do have to put in the fucking effort to remember that non-binary people exist, yes, even if you fucking are one. Because your response to that person's simple fucking statement is completely over the top and is literally just extra sexism.
You do not get to act like non-binary people are just demanding so much impossibility and so much impossible difficult things by literally having somebody to say don't forget non-binary people on the post that literally applies to all trans people and you fucking did not mention non-binary people once.
All you had to do was say yeah you're right. And just edit the post or add every blog that says and this also applies to non-binary people too. That's literally all you had to fucking do. But no. You just had to go and be a fucking exorsexist acting like it's an impossible demand to include non-binary people and act like you being non-binary makes this behavior okay somehow.
And yeah in the replies the OP literally says that this post is explicitly not about non-binary people at all and doesn't apply to non-binary people so I guess we don't deserve the same basic respect as binary trans people! Cool. Great. So fun.
Sarcasm: the way to be a trans ally is to be aggressively fucking against non-binary people being acknowledged at all in conversations that affect all trans people.
I don't think you're a trans ally until you accept trans people who don't want to transition. And I don't just mean medically.
I mean trans men who look indistinguishable from cis women and trans women who look indistinguishable from cis men and they're happy like that. Who have no intention of changing their style, presentation, or even pronouns.
Some women don't look like the stereotypical idea of "woman" and it's the same for men. But they're still men and women. I need you to understand that gender has no bearing on appearance and people's comfort in their own bodies is more important than the fictional idea of what manhood and womanhood looks like.
And, yes, some people can't transition due to disability or funds or whatever and they're included in this, yes. But you need to accept people who don't want to either. Who willingly make the choice to not transition in any way because that's how they're the most comfortable.
A trans person who doesn't transition is just as much their gender as anyone else of that same gender. Please get that through your head.
To any trans men who don't want to transition or change their appearance in any way: You're a man. You've always been a man. You will always be a man.
To any trans women who don't want to transition or change their appearance in any way: You're a woman. You've always been a woman. You will always be a woman.
The way your body looks doesn't matter in the slightest, your gender is real and legitimate and valid regardless of any other factors.
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endearng · 1 day ago
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Special guest
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: Olivia's birthday is coming up. She has a special guest in mind. WC: 1.7k Warnings: mentions of absent fathers (sorry); reader is borderline paranoid about letting her kid down; they are pining hard - Spencer looks at reader not so respectfully. Please, let me know if I missed anything. A/N: I try my best to not describe the reader so that everyone feels included, but I feel like I should work better on that. If you have any advice on it, I'd be very thankful to hear it! Second fic in less than 24h, ohmy. This is a second part to 'Stranger danger' Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 Masterlist
A few weeks had passed after the incident with the power in your building. Since then, you saw Spencer sometimes and he always greeted you politely. Olivia once told you that she liked him so much because he was a nice ghost — he told her stories about the books he read and she absolutely loved them, going to the point of asking if she could borrow them once he had finished reading.
Little did she know, she would never have to wait long.
Their interactions always made you speechless. How was your 5-year-old daughter better than you at starting conversations? You could barely look him in the eye, despite the fact that he always made sure to flash you the brightest smiles. You reciprocated, but then Olivia always had something to say: about his funny clothes, about the book she was reading for school, about your moments together — you had a scheduled commitment every Friday, to take Olivia to wherever she wanted to go. She was very observant, and, just like you, had the habit of taking mental notes of the beautiful places you saw during your walks. That's how she knew where the public library was and knew the best coffee in town — she demanded having the same beverage as you, but you told the barista secretly to make it decaf.
As you both put on your shoes in the morning to leave the apartment, you said, "Oli, your birthday is coming up. Do you want to do anything with mommy?"
"I want a birthday party."
That made you freeze in your tracks for a moment. You've been avoiding throwing birthday parties for two years now, because Olivia's day always ended with a tinge of heartbreak by the absence of her father, who had decided to leave the both of you and move overseas to, maybe, start over. It hurt you to try to comfort her with something you didn't have control of, but you did it anyway because you'd rather hurt yourself than let your baby go through that kind of disappointment alone. You didn't really know what he was up to, and honestly, you didn't want to, either. You were doing just fine without him, but she was his daughter and still a child, so you knew she still missed him.
Your hands were shaking slightly as you tied her shoelaces. "Bunny ears, remember?" You asked softly, showing her how to do it: you always did it in the mornings, but you made sure to teach her in case they undid during her day at school. She nodded at you, flashing a little toothless smile. "Okay, baby, we'll do that," you smiled, trying to ease off the tension.
"I want invitation cards. Like the ones you had!" She said, excitedly. You huffed out a laugh, endeared by the fact that she remembered all the papers you showed her with photos and other memories of your childhood.
"No problem, baby," you said, getting up, smoothing your pencil skirt and opening the door. She went to the hall to press the elevator button, "we can do it." You said, more to yourself than to her.
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Two weeks passed and you had everything ready for Olivia's birthday with the help of your closests friends, Victoria and Jude. You were planning on throwing her party at your parents' house, which had a big, beautiful yard with space enough for the kids to play all they wanted. You had ordered Olivia's favorite cake, red velvet, and a lot of other treats that you knew she loved.
"You know she'll be drunk on sugar, right?" Victoria asked, laughing. She remembered the last time she took Olivia to the movies and she was electric during the way back.
"It's her birthday, once a year won't kill her. Maybe it'll kill me, but eh, what's the matter?" You joked lightly and your friends laughed.
Jude had a checklist in her hands. "Okay, let's go over this so we can go back to our yearly drinking like there's no tomorrow date. We have the place, the food, the decoration... oh, no. Where are the invitations?"
"Oh, I got it. They're in my room. I had to put it away because Oli wanted to read them over and over again."
They nodded as you left your living room, walking down the hall so you could get said invitations. You felt dread creeping up on you when you couldn't find them in the top drawer of your bedside table. "I can't find them!" You yelled loud enough for the women to hear you.
"Are you sure you placed them here?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Not sure what happened, though." You murmured, already feeling a little disappointed. "I gotta look for it now. She drew it herself and I took a lot of copies. I can't possibly tell her I lost them, she would be heartbroken." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.
Victoria approached you to rub your arm, trying to comfort you. "Hey, we can look for it. We still have time." Jude said, smiling reassuringly.
"I know, I just don't wanna be too late." You said, giving them a tight-lipped smile.
So, you started looking for it in every corner of your apartment. You stayed in your bedroom, while Jude and Victoria went to Olivia's. You had cleaned the apartment today, a Saturday, when your daughter usually went to your parents', so that you'd have free time to spend and catch up with your friends. It was almost sundown, daylight fading softly and the lighting in your room was becoming darker as time went by. Suddenly, you heard your bell. Weird. You weren't expecting anybody.
"I'll get that!" You let your friends know.
Opening the door, you weren't expecting your neighbor. Rephrasing: the neighbor who Olivia adored so much. Spencer. That works, too. He has a name, after all. "Hey, hi!" He greeted you with a grin, looking shy.
"Hey, you!" You greeted him back. "Is everything okay?" You asked, a little unsure.
You took in his appearance. He looked tired, that's for sure, but it didn't stop him from looking like the most gorgeous man in existence. He wore his usual attire, carrying his caramel satchel leather bag. You didn't have an immediate answer, so you gulped when you noticed that you were looking a little longer than what's socially acceptable.
"Yeah, it's fine," he chuckled, unable to hold your stare for a moment longer. He considered, for a moment, that your daughter was the element needed for him to have a little confidence to speak when you were around. Well, shit. "I — um. I think these belong to you. I found it when I opened the door to my apartment." He extended you a bunch of papers. You blushed. You busied yourself so much with admiring him that you failed to notice that he had something in his hands.
He studied you for a moment. You looked beautiful that day. Not that you didn't look beautiful all the times you've seen him, but oh, well. Like the first time you met, you were wearing a dress. It was blue and it stopped mid-thigh. He had to stop himself from gulping at the sight of your bare, plush legs. It was different from what he was used to seeing you wear during working days, during the eventual elevator meetings. The dress hugged your curves beautifully, there was no question, like it had been made just for you. Your hair was loose and it fell over your shoulders. When you first answered the door, you had a worried frown on your face, but it quickly disappeared with his words. He felt relieved to see you get rid of your distress.
"Oh, goodness! Sorry about that. I was just looking for these." You gladly took them from his hand and your fingers accidentally brushed his. His hands were warm. "Olivia must have slided them under your door gap," you laughed nervously. You could feel two pairs of eyes looking at the interaction before them. You needed to brace yourself for their questions and very much possible teasing.
"Yeah, yeah. I supposed she did that, too." He laughed, quietly.
You thought for a moment. "You know, you should go. She really likes you. Talks about your conversations all the time and says she misses you when we don't run into you at some point." You revealed. It made Spencer's heart soar in his chest.
"Really?" He couldn't help but smile, even if he couldn't believe it. Not that you were a liar, but that it meant so much to your daughter to talk to him now and then. He felt alive at that moment, felt wanted. “I don’t want to impose.”
"Yeah, I mean, no! No problem, you wouldn’t be. We’d like to have you." You said, smiling adorning your face. You took a card from your hands, offering it to him. "With us, I mean. It's going to be at my parents' house, we'll have a bunch of kids running around and cake." You surely looked like an idiot.
We’d like to have you, was all that he could hear.
Did you want him there for him or just because he was kind to your daughter?
Either way, "Thanks. I'll do my best to be there." He said, utterly happy. Saying your name lowly, followed by a 'goodbye', made your heart jump in your chest. You replied with a wave and a small grin. Your cheeks were sore from all the smiling. It was inevitable.
You turned around and had barely closed the door when Jude said, a little louder than her usual tone, "So, I see you found the invitation cards. I hope you gave one for Olivia's birthday party, not for a hot date." She playfully scolded you.
With wide eyes, you banged the door closed and turned around to yell, "Jude! What???"
Little did you know, Spencer heard it all. You know, thin walls, small distance and all. He grinned to himself, face flushed a deep red.
He was definitely looking forward to seeing you. And Olivia, too, of course. It was her birthday, after all.
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megalony · 1 day ago
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Don't Let Me Go
This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon. Thank you for this idea I absolutely loved writing it I had so much fun and I hope you will all like it.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10
Eddie Diaz Masterlist
Summary: (Y/n) and Eddie have just had their first baby together, but (Y/n) doesn't know what to do when she starts to feel low. And she doesn't feel like she can look after the kids on her own.
(Descriptions of post-partum depression)
Enjoy.
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Closing her eyes, (Y/n) tilted her head forward and tried to stop herself from bursting out into tears. She shifted her heavy, weighted arms up a little while her head bent forward so her lips were meshing against her newborn's head.
The little girl was finally quiet, but to (Y/n), it felt like those cries were still swirling around in her head on full pelt. All she could hear was Lilah's incessant crying that tortured her all day long when Eddie was at work.
All night, (Y/n) had been up and down, up and down. She fed her, she rocked her when she wouldn't settle, she tried cuddling her but it didn't do much good. Lilah kept snivelling and whimpering like (Y/n) was a big bad monster. In the end, (Y/n) just went to sleep and kept her baby on her chest to whimper as much as she liked.
It must have worked because when she woke up a few hours later, Lilah was asleep and Eddie's hand was resting on the newborn's back.
She took a few deep breaths to try and calm herself down and focused her eyes on Lilah so she didn't have to look around her. Her hand cradled the back of her head and she cuddled her closer, wishing they could both curl up and disappear.
"We can go home soon."
It wasn't as if they had been out all day. (Y/n) didn't have the strength or the energy for that. She had barely gotten from the bedroom into the living room. Then (Y/n) had burst into tears when she got comfy on the sofa and Lilah woke up crying for her bottle. Trekking into the kitchen and physically making a bottle had stolen every ounce of (Y/n)'s energy.
She wished Eddie was home.
(Y/n) knew it would be hard when Eddie went back to work after having two weeks at home with her and the kids. She just didn't realise how hard it was going to feel, being at home with Chris and Lilah without Eddie there as that extra support.
It would be alright if (Y/n) didn't feel like this. If she didn't feel so sluggish and broken. When Eddie was home it felt better. (Y/n) could ask him to hold Lilah or feed her so she could take a nap and he didn't bat an eyelid. She could move slowly about the house or just sit down with the kids and he didn't fuss. He took Chris to school and took Lilah for a walk to pick him up which gave (Y/n) a little while to herself.
Not anymore.
It had taken everything within (Y/n)- and a broken sob- to get herself up, put on her shoes and trudge out to the car. Driving had felt so frightening to (Y/n) because she could barely concentrate on whether the lights were green or red.
There was no possible way she could of left any earlier and walked Lilah to pick Chris up like Eddie sometimes did. (Y/n) had no willpower to move, she couldn't make it all the way there and back. It was either drive or try and call someone to bring Chris home, and (Y/n) couldn't call anyone and have them know that she felt so useless that she couldn't pick him up herself.
She burrowed herself further into Lilah whose little legs were wriggling and bashing into (Y/n)'s stomach every now and then. All (Y/n) wanted was for Lilah to settle down and go to sleep so that when they got home, (Y/n) could sleep too.
Whenever Lilah went to sleep these last few days without Eddie, (Y/n) had slept too. It was all she seemed to want to do. It was the only thing (Y/n) could do right.
She darted her eyes up and looked around the other parents waiting outside the school gates. (Y/n) was stood three feet from the car. It was a strategy. Standing this close to the car meant she didn't have to move far, Chris could still see her, and most importantly, no one would approach.
Everyone else was stood closer to the gates, all in their little coven circles, nattering away to each other. (Y/n) didn't want to be a part of that. She couldn't. She could barely string a sentence together and if the other parents started talking to her, they would see how useless of a mother she was turning out to be.
Lilah was (Y/n)'s first baby. When she married Eddie, she adopted Chris- something he had asked her to do himself- and it was the best thing in the world. Finding out she was pregnant a few months after their wedding was even better. They wanted kids, God (Y/n) wanted a baby of her own.
The other parents she knew from Chris's school had all been lovely, congratulating them, asking about the baby. They had all seen Lilah when Eddie came down to pick Chris up during those two weeks he was off.
Having Lilah was like a dream, but (Y/n) felt like she had changed personas somewhere along the line. She came home from the hospital and seemed to slump. She wanted to sit down, she had no will power to move. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton all the time, she was constantly fighting migraines.
And she didn't have low moods, she had no mood at all. Like she was on a factory setting, not happy, not frustrated or angry or sad, just… blank.
Having Eddie home made her feel better. He was a natural with the kids, with Lilah, and when he wrapped his arms around (Y/n), she felt soothed and relaxed and like her migraine was disappearing. But he had gone to work, and as soon as he left for that first day, (Y/n) broke down in tears.
She felt like she had been abandoned.
At some point, (Y/n) was frightened she was going to turn into some little puppy, crying by the front door from the moment Eddie walked out until the moment he came back home after work.
That thought frightened her like nothing else.
Relief swarmed in her eyes when she watched the kids start to flood out the gates towards them. As soon as Chris was with her, she could go back home. (Y/n) had been out the house for too long, she wanted to be back inside where she was safe and isolated and away from prying eyes.
"Mum!" Chris wriggled one arm out of his crutch when he reached her and glued himself into (Y/n)'s side, smothering his face in her stomach as he grinned. The touch made (Y/n) want to burst into tears and smile brighter than the sun at the same time, but she couldn't seem to do either.
He sounded so happy to see her, although she didn't know why. Why would anyone be happy to see her? She hadn't done anything of significance, she wasn't even being a proper mum right now. She felt useless.
"Hi, good day?" Her voice was on the verge of cracking when she lowered Lilah in her arms so she could lean down and kiss Chris's curls. She had to make some sort of effort with him.
She couldn't help but wonder what Chris had been like as a baby. She wondered if Shannon had ever struggled to get him settled and if he was a fussy baby. She wondered if Chris had been as glued to Eddie as their daughter now was, but then again, (Y/n) wasn't sure because Eddie had been in the army. He was away a lot so it would of been natural for Chris to cling to Shannon, not him.
Whereas Eddie was around now. He had been here for all of (Y/n)'s pregnancy, not just the birth and he spent the first two weeks barely putting Lilah down. Going back to work didn't change how infatuated Eddie was with Lilah and she always settled for him straight away.
It was overwhelming to have Chris attached to (Y/n) considering Lilah seemed to want Eddie more. She had made up her mind that her dad was better, but (Y/n) knew she could count on Chris to want and love her. He never got upset and demanded to have Eddie instead.
"It was fun," He reached his hand up and gently brushed his fingers up and down Lilah's back who wasn't crying or whimpering anymore, just fidgeting.
When (Y/n) nodded towards the car, Chris beamed and hurried to open the back door for (Y/n) since she had Lilah in her arms. He put his crutches and bag in the back and climbed in the front seat.
(Y/n) was glad to set Lilah down. It felt nice to cuddle her, but it was effort. Picking her up and soothing her was so much time and effort that (Y/n) physically couldn't seem to find at the moment. She hoped the car ride would put her right to sleep and that she wouldn't wake until Eddie came home.
Did that make her selfish?
"Let's go home." Her voice was quiet and she wasn't sure Chris even heard her, but it didn't really matter.
When she climbed in the car, all (Y/n) wanted to do was curl up and close her eyes, but she was the adult here. She was the one in charge. She nodded when Chris pointed to the radio. That was a good idea. (Y/n) couldn't afford to have no background noise because if there were no distractions, what would stop her from falling asleep right now?
"Not too loud," She murmured and ran her hand up and down her aching temple before she put the car in gear. The sooner they left the sooner they could get back home.
She didn't want the music loud. Usually she, Chris and Eddie would always have it loud and they would sing and blast out their favourite songs. But (Y/n) couldn't handle the noise. Background noise to keep her awake was fine, but loud noise to thunder along with her headache would only make her cry. And it would disturb Lilah which she couldn't afford when she couldn't settle her again; not yet.
Chris sat forward and began bopping along to the music, looking out the window like he was in a world of his own. Every now and then he looked over at (Y/n) and those chocolate eyes pulled at something in her chest. She didn't feel like talking, but he might.
"T- tell me about your day." It hurt to force herself to speak when all she wanted to do was go mute.
What she wanted was to disappear from the world.
But she didn't want to make Chris aware of that or make him feel bad, and the way he smiled and started to babble in a similar manner to his uncle Buck when he was excited made (Y/n)'s heavy heart lift just a little.
(Y/n) could feel tears burning in her eyes when they finally pulled up at home. All she wanted was get Lilah and curl up in bed with her. (Y/n) wanted to go to sleep and wake up with Eddie at home, there to sort everything out and make everyone feel a hundred times better.
"…mum?"
"Hm?" She bit down on her lip when she moved her hand to her temple and realised her hands were trembling.
Her shaking fingers scoured against her temple, pressing and rubbing circles into her skin to no avail. It did nothing to rid her of the thunder inside her head; the tormenting weather that no one else could see or feel. The pain that was growing and becoming agitating to the point (Y/n) was ready to lie in bed and never get up until her headache relented.
She looked over at Chris who was smiling as he flung his belt off, ready to get out the car.
"Can we watch a movie?"
She guessed by his tone that he had already asked her that and she hadn't heard him. Thank God. Thank God he was asking her that and not asking if they could do a puzzle or build another Lego creation or play a game. (Y/n) didn't have that much strength within her. But a movie, she could do.
"A movie in bed?" She loved the way Chris nodded and bolted from the car as if it were a race. (Y/n) might beat him to the bed if it was a race.
She could do that. She could get out the car, get Lilah, trudge through the house and collapse in bed with the kids. They had a crib attached to the side of the bed so keep Lilah close at night, and it was a godsend. It was originally so they didn't have to get up and go into the nursery five or six times a night to settle her or change and feed her. Having her in their room was so much easier.
But having the crib attached to the bed was better for (Y/n) when she felt like this. If Lilah whimpered, all she had to do was reach her hand across and her baby was there. She didn't physically have to get out of bed to pick her up and lay with her, only to go and make the bottles.
Right now, all (Y/n) had to do was prompt herself and plan out the route of getting from the car to the bed.
She could do that.
***
Running his hands up and down his face, Eddie tried to ward off the tiredness in his eyes as he stifled a yawn. His bare feet padded along the laminate hallway and his hands switched to scratch along the back of his neck. He felt like going to bed. He'd made the wrong decision of catching two hours of sleep on a night shift at the station last night and it had made him lethargic all day. He should have powered through instead.
He could hear the tv blaring with the movie Chris was happily watching before going to bed and Eddie prayed both kids would manage to sleep so he could have a bit of time with (Y/n) before the pair of them conked out asleep too.
He peered into the nursery since the door was partially open, but the room was empty. He continued down the hall and padded into his and (Y/n)'s room, but again came up empty. The light was on, the curtains were drawn and a pile of clothes were placed on the end of the bed. She had to be in the bathroom.
Eddie changed course and shuffled from the bedroom across to the bathroom. He lightly rapped his knuckles on the door and headed inside with a gentle smile lighting up his face when he looked towards the bath.
For a moment he thought (Y/n) was asleep. She was slouched down in the bath, her head barely resting on the edge of the tub and her knees were slightly bent, just scraping the surface of the water.
She had her eyes closed and her chin and lips submerged in the water, causing soft ripples to break out through the water with every breath she took. And her hands were tightly bound on Lilah's sides, keeping the newborn propped up against her knees and sat on her abdomen.
The sight made Eddie's heart explode in his chest and a surge of warmth spread through his blood. Although he was the tiniest bit unsure because of how relaxed (Y/n) seemed; the thought of her falling asleep in the bath with Lilah in her arms was daunting, even if it was far-fetched.
"Hey, there are my girls."
His voice was quiet and he used the edge of the bath so he could kneel down on the bathmat. His arms folded on the edge of the bath and he leaned his chin on his arms while his eyes looked over his wife.
He watched the way (Y/n) blearily blinked and turned her head in his direction, and the foggy look in her eyes told him she was even more tired than he thought when he came home. She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks, but Eddie was sure that wasn't the case.
Her eyes almost looked vacant, there was something distant in them that made Eddie feel like they were standing hundreds of miles apart rather than being less than a foot away like this.
The little hum (Y/n) let out made Eddie smile and (Y/n) slowly drifted her eyes from Eddie over to Lilah before locking back on him again.
All she wanted to do was disappear under the water and see if it would make her feel any better. To see if it would make her feel something, anything, other than dull and tired. She was almost numb. The hot water had relaxed her, but now (Y/n) felt like she was too relaxed, like she was about to slip into an abyss and never wake up again. And she didn't want to take Lilah with her into a dark abyss like that.
"Want me to take her? You look like you're about to fall asleep in here."
Eddie reached one hand out so he could brush Lilah's cheek. He was surprised the newborn was so settled and calm in here, she too looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. The water must be comforting to her.
It took everything within (Y/n) to stop herself from falling asleep in here. She knew she couldn't. A lapse in focus for even a second could cause her to loosen her grip on Lilah and have her baby sliding under the water. (Y/n) couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't.
Deep down she knew she should have tried to settle Lilah before she came in the bath. At least then, if (Y/n) wanted to sleep or let herself submerge under water for a while, she wouldn't have to focus on keeping her baby safe. But she couldn't ask Eddie to take her when he had been with her most of the morning, it wouldn't be fair.
And for once, Lilah hadn't been crying when (Y/n) had fed her and cuddled her. It felt too good of a moment to let go, if Lilah was settled for her (Y/n) wanted the moment to last.
(Y/n) wanted to agree, she wanted to let Eddie take Lilah, but she couldn't. She was the mother. She had barely done anything today, she had to at least try and act the part even if she didn't feel it right now.
She tried to speak, to form a sentence and actually talk, but she could barely get one word out.
"Headache." Her eyes looked up to her temple before she closed them and sank back down in the water.
"Again?" A spark of worry ignited in Eddie's voice as he leaned his cheek on his left arm so he could move his right hand out towards (Y/n). His knuckles brushed against her cheek and his thumb swiped beneath her eye just as (Y/n) leaned her head into his touch. She pressed her warm, sodden lips into the back of his hand, wishing they could just stay like this forever.
The lack of response gave Eddie his answer and he sighed as he leaned up so his chest was pressing into the edge of the bath. He moved his hand to nudge beneath (Y/n)'s chin and tilted her head up enough so that he could steal a kiss.
It was strange to feel her lips so warm like this and the constant trickling of water running down the bridge of her nose and dampening both their lips made Eddie's nerves ignite. Their noses brushed and when he looked back into her eyes, his heart was struck when he thought she was about to cry.
His hand stayed cradling her face for a few seconds before he reached out and swiped a towel from the rail.
"Let me take her, and I'll grab you some painkillers."
(Y/n) nodded, barely having the energy to lean up for another kiss, but she tried. She felt his lips move to peck her cheek, then her neck and her eyes closed again to relish in the touch that seemed to linger on her skin and take her mind off the tears threatening to spill over.
She felt oddly empty when Eddie carefully eased Lilah from her arms and wrapped her up in a towel.
He cradled their girl against his chest, meshing his lips with the top of her head while he hummed and slowly got to his feet. But his eyes continued to find their way back to (Y/n). He didn't want to leave her, something was drawing him back like she was upset or in need of something, but he wasn't sure what. His hand smoothed up and down Lilah's back as he headed out the bathroom and into the nursery to get her changed. He would get a drink and some painkillers for (Y/n) so she would feel better when she got out the bath.
(Y/n) felt like going back to sleep. She felt like letting herself slump under the water and seeing what would happen, but she didn't. She couldn't.
She had to get out the bath now before she lost the little energy she had left. The energy she had reserved ready to will herself to get out the bath with Lilah.
If she didn't move now, (Y/n) knew she would lay here until the water went cold and then after that too. She would stay here until Eddie came looking for her again and she would panic him if she just went to sleep here. It didn't matter that she wanted to stay submerged in the water where she could escape. It didn't matter that getting out the bath and getting into pyjamas actually took effort.
Nothing mattered anymore.
The moment she was out the bath, tears began to trickle down her face as she slumped onto her knees on the bathmat in Eddie's vacant place and dragged a towel around her shivering frame. It wasn't cold. She didn't know why she was shaking like she was when she couldn't be, not after being in the hot water for half an hour or longer.
She was glad she had left her hair tied up. Washing her hair was such an effort and (Y/n) couldn't be bothered with it recently. Dry shampoo had become her best friend. Washing her hair involved effort, it was time consuming and the act of then having to dry her hair was even worse. (Y/n) didn't have the effort, and she hated walking around with wet hair.
She bowed her head and tightened her arms around her frame, letting the towel soak the remnants of water from her skin rather than actually drying herself. This was simpler. This was easier.
Everything drained from her head once she pushed up onto unsteady feet and secured the towel around her frame. She usually brought her clothes into the bathroom and got changed in here. She wasn't sure why she forgot her clothes.
A shuddering breath left her lips when she walked into the bedroom and noticed Lilah was already in her cot attached to the side of the bed. She wasn't asleep, but she was on her way. How long had (Y/n) been in the bathroom willing herself to get dry if Eddie had changed, dressed her and settled her already?
Loose tears trickled down the bridge of her nose, but (Y/n) swiped them from existence and set on getting changed. The feeling of Eddie's shirt hanging off her frame was comforting. His scent was calming and (Y/n) pulled the collar up so it rested on the bridge of her nose so she was overwhelmed with Eddie's scent while she wore her own underwear and pyjama shorts that somehow didn't feel right compared to Eddie's clothes. Nothing about (Y/n) or her things felt right anymore.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
Eddie's voice took her by surprise and she turned to watch him walk back into the room. He set down a glass of juice and some tablets on the bedside table but once he perched down on the edge of the bed, (Y/n) moved too.
She didn't really think, she seemed to move on autopilot, aiming for Eddie like he was the only thing she could see and understand.
When she sat down on his lap, his arms moved to accomodate her and surprise flooded his face, although he would never complain. He wound his arms around (Y/n)'s waist while she deadlocked her arms around his neck and burrowed her face into his neck.
The feeling of each breath Eddie took pressing against her nose and the thumping of his pulse was consuming and warming and (Y/n) could smell his aftershave which always made her feel like she was home wherever they were.
"Amor, are you okay?" Eddie's voice seemed to fall on deaf ears while he glided his hand up and down (Y/n)'s back and his lips attached to the top of her head. He tried to tilt his head back and lean his chest back a little so he could look down at her, but he was in shock to see (Y/n) was practically half asleep.
She could barely open her eyes and she couldn't formulate any words either. Her arms squeezed his neck and her legs bound tight around his torso, clinging to him like she was afraid someone was suddenly going to tear him away from her.
He found himself leaning forward into her and peppering kiss after kiss against her temple to see if it would do any good. It was evident (Y/n) didn't feel well and Eddie wanted to make her feel better, or at least calm her down in any way he could.
He automatically started to sway them from side to side while he stayed perched on the end of the bed. Not daring to move because (Y/n) seemed so calm and relaxed like this and he didn't want to shift the atmosphere.
But Eddie was sure he could hear her murmuring "Don't let me go." into his neck, and it made shivers break out beneath his skin.
***
I can't do anything.
That one thought swirled around in (Y/n)'s head more than anything else. The words danced in front of her eyes. The voice in her head was whispering them so much that it was the only thing she could comprehend.
Tears began to slither down the bridge of her nose as she tried to turn her head and smother her face into the cushion, but it wasn't working. Nothing she did was making her feel any better. Nothing made her feel normal; like herself.
Who was she? Why was she feeling like this?
Her knees coiled up higher to her stomach and her arms bound around her chest while she tucked herself down into the sofa like a child trying to disappear. (Y/n) wanted to disappear. She didn't want to feel like this anymore. She wanted to feel like herself, not whoever was now trapped in her body with her.
She couldn't move. She couldn't find the energy to get up off the sofa where she had been for most of the morning. Her throat was parched and dry from silent sobs, but she didn't hold the strength to go and get a drink. She didn't have the willpower to be bothered about getting a drink either.
She had a headache whether she drank gallons of water or forgot when the last time she had a drink was, so what did it matter if she didn't go and get one?
Her body was sluggish like it wasn't truly under her control anymore. She didn't have the willpower to get up for anything.
She wasn't hungry, she wasn't thirsty. She didn't have any motivation to move around the house. She couldn't take baths anymore because they were too tempting to slip under the water and she couldn't drag herself out of them. (Y/n) couldn't even get a shower yesterday or today because the effort was too much.
And her moods didn't feel like she was even sad, she just felt blank. A plain canvas, desperate for someone to streak a splash of colour across her and make her feel something. (Y/n) would give anything to feel angry, to feel like screaming or shouting or have too much energy and no way of letting it out. She would give everything in the world to feel as happy as she did in the months leading up to Lilah's birth.
She wanted to feel as excited, thrilled and loving as she did when she thought about being a mum while she was pregnant. She didn't think she would feel like this.
It felt horrible.
When a little sniffle followed by a whimper broke through the barrier in (Y/n)'s ears, she could feel her chest quivering as her eyes cast down to her daughter.
Lilah had been asleep in the rocker that (Y/n) had dragged as close to the sofa as she could so they were side by side. Not that (Y/n) could really find the energy to look after either of her kids today.
"Please…" (Y/n) wasn't sure what she was asking of her baby girl and she couldn't seem to find any more words than that.
But when Lilah whimpered again, flood waves burst down (Y/n)'s face and a matching, feeble sound clawed at the back of her throat. Was it time to feed Lilah already? She couldn't. She couldn't do it. She wasn't sure she would be able to move from the sofa or try her luck picking her daughter up.
Her hands began to scratch at her chest like she was clawing her way towards her heart that was fracturing into millions of tiny pieces all around her chest. As if she could bear her pain and show Lilah she couldn't help her; that she couldn't give her what she wanted. What was she going to do?
"Mum, want some dinner?"
Chris wandered out the kitchen and aimed for the living room to see if his mum was still in there. She told him this morning they would be having a chill day today and she had let him spend the morning playing video games in his room while she and Lilah had been in here.
About half an hour ago, Chris had made a sandwich since he was hungry and he presumed (Y/n) had been asleep. He didn't want to wake her when he could make himself something to eat. But he knew his mum hadn't had dinner yet either and Eddie told him to help and look after both girls when he went back to work.
The eleven year old went into the living room and stood by the end of the sofa, leaning over the arm rest so he could look over at (Y/n).
His head tilted to one side and his brows furrowed when he looked down at her. She was curled up in that manner that Chris would lay when he had stomach ache or when he wasn't well. He couldn't see her face, she was hiding in the pillow. And when he realised his baby sister was subtly whimpering and kicking in her rocker, he found it very odd.
Usually if Lilah began to cry, either parent would pick her up and see what she needed. And Chris could see (Y/n) wasn't asleep, she was shaking like she was cold.
"Are you sick?"
When Chris pressed his hand against her temple, (Y/n) couldn't help the way she shuddered and how mor tears streamed down her face and soaked into the cushion.
She was the adult. She was the parent, the one who was supposed to be taking care of him and Lilah. And she was laid here, useless, needing help herself like she had been reduced to a child.
She tried to move one hand away from clawing at her chest, and she managed to reach out and squeeze Chris's wrist, giving him the tiniest bit of comfort she could muster. When she seemed to lose her energy, she flopped her hand over the side of the sofa and laid her hand on Lilah's chest. The newborn temporarily stopped whimpering at the touch, but then she continued to kick her legs out and began to cry.
She was hungry.
She had to be hungry, (Y/n) couldn't remember when she last fed her. What kind of mother did that make her?
She needed to move. She needed to get up and pick her daughter up and go and feed her and look after Chris too, but she couldn't. (Y/n) didn't think she held the strength to pick up her baby, as horrible as that might make her.
"Mum?" Chris didn't like this. She still hadn't talked to him or said if she was okay. Was he supposed to go to his room again and leave her like this? Was he meant to sit down next to her? Should he try and cuddle Lilah for a while until (Y/n) felt well enough to move?
"Please… pl- call your dad." Why was it so much effort to talk? Why was it so hard to use her broken voice and gather strength to get her dry throat to work and talk for a change?
(Y/n) kept her eyes closed so she wouldn't have to look up and witness Chris's expression.
She didn't want to know whether he was angry at her or panicking or wondering why his mum was so useless and silly. (Y/n) didn't want to see the disappointment hiding within his eyes. She just wanted to make everything stop or make herself disappear.
Chris didn't need to be told twice.
As soon as she asked, he backed up and made his way down the hallway towards his room to get his phone. He flopped onto his bed, tapping his toes against the floor while his legs jittered up and down.
What would he do if his dad didn't answer? He couldn't always pick up the phone when he was at work. If he couldn't answer, did that mean that Buck wouldn't be able to pick up either? Would he have to call Carla if he couldn't get hold of anyone? Or maybe Maddie at 911?
"Dad?" Relief like never before swelled inside of Chris when his dad answered after four rings. Expertly cutting off the inner monologue and the doubling panic inside of Chris.
"Chris, everything okay?"
It wasn't normal for Eddie to get a phone call from Chris when he was at work. He couldn't remember the last time Chris had called him like this. It was usually (Y/n) and even then she asked him first and then called so Chris could speak to him before he went to sleep or if he wanted to talk about something.
The one and only time Eddie had gotten a phone call at work from his family was when (Y/n) had fallen and she needed him to take her to the hospital.
"Can you come help mum?" Those five little words were enough to spark a fire within Eddie and have him walking away from the kitchen so he could take this call in private.
"Help her, why what's happened? Has she had a fall?"
"I don't know… she's crying, and- and she can't get up from the sofa, she said to call you."
That didn't sound right. (Y/n) crying told Eddie that she was conscious and awake, and clearly in some sort of pain or agony. She didn't usually cry in front of Chris, she used to shy away from Eddie in the beginning of their relationship so he wouldn't see her cry.
But she wasn't in the bathroom or the kitchen after a fall or a cooking accident like he would typically expect. Had she been sick? Had she woken up in agony? What was the problem?
"Can you put her on the phone for me please?" Eddie needed to talk to her. He needed to know what was going on.
He heard Chris hum and he tangled his hand in the short hairs at the back of his head while he waited. His foot began to tap against the floor and he found himself holding his breath to try and calm his system down while he heard Chris shuffling and stomping, presumably into the living room to find (Y/n).
When he reached the living room, Chris held the phone out towards (Y/n), muttering a quiet "I called dad," to try and get her to talk to him. But he frowned when (Y/n) shook her head and burrowed her face into the cushion.
She seemed to have curled up even more since he left the room. Her body was contorted into a tiny ball and she had pulled the collar of her shirt up towards her eyes so Chris could barely see her. And so he couldn't see the tears streaming down her face.
"She can't talk, she's upset."
"Fuck… tell her I'm coming home now, okay? Please stay there with her until I get home."
One hundred and one thoughts ran through Eddie's mind on the way home. He was so panicked he wasn't sure whether he had gone through a red light or not, and he didn't have time to care.
What was wrong with his wife? Had she hurt herself? Had she been sick? It had been just over a month since she had Lilah so it couldn't be any complication after birth like an infection, that would of shown up sooner than this. Eddie could think of quite a few different things that could be wrong, and all of them were frightening.
By the time he pulled up in the drive he was in a state of panic, almost shaking from uncertainty and paranoid thoughts. Part of him wished he had taken Hen up on her offer to come with him and see if she could help in any way. But when Eddie didn't know the problem, he didn't want to have anyone else involved.
He barely shut the door behind him as he sped through the hall and into the living room, guessing that they were still in there since Chris said (Y/n) couldn't move from the sofa.
He paused in the doorway once he reached the living room, scanning the scene in the same way he did when he approached a scene at work.
Chris was sat on the floor in between the sofa and the arm chair, legs crossed, cheek leaning on the sofa to be closer to (Y/n). He had one hand stretched out, gently nudging the rocker where Lilah was whimpering but not making too much of a fuss at the moment. But his other hand was tightly squeezing (Y/n)'s hand like he was either comforting her or trying to keep her awake.
Not that (Y/n) looked like she was about to pass out. Eddie could barely see her. He had to step closer into the room to get a proper look at his wife. She was laid on the sofa, knees embedded into her chest so much that it must be hurting her stomach. One arm was hidden against her chest while she other hung limply off the side of the sofa to hold Chris's hand.
Her face was tucked into the cushion, but it was her expression that was frightening Eddie. Tears streaked down her face. Eyes half-lidded, lower lip wobbling as shuddering breaths left her lips.
"Buddy, can you give me a minute to help your mum please?" Leaning over, Eddie cupped the back of Chris's head and gently kissed her curls.
His heart almost burst when he watched Chris slowly get up, press a tender kiss to (Y/n)'s temple and head down the hall towards his room. He knew Eddie would assess and look after (Y/n) now he was home, there was no need for Chris to worry anymore.
Once he was out of view, Eddie weaved around the rocker and perched down on the sofa beside (Y/n)'s thighs.
"Baby, can I take a look at you?"
Eddie wasn't sure what to do first. He couldn't see any blood or a point of pain that (Y/n) was cradling or sobbing about. He could see she was awake and alert so he didn't have to worry about her passing out or having some kind of internal bleed or problem.
His hands slithered down (Y/n)'s arms to gently hold her biceps so he could try and lift her up. He couldn't help her if she continued to lay like this, he had to sit her up to assess her and talk to her. But the moment he reeled her up so she was sitting up with him, he was taken back.
Her arms deadlocked around his chest and she meshed her face into his chest like she was trying to turn them into one being.
He could feel each harsh breath she took and the tears that were soaking into his shirt and the way she was trembling was making him shake too. He curved an arm around her waist while his other hand cupped the back of her neck and he pressed a lasting kiss to the top of her head.
"Talk to me amor, what's going on?" The soft tone in Eddie's voice and the underlying tone of understanding made (Y/n) wail. She didn't want him to understand or be nice to her. She didn't deserve it.
When Eddie tried to tilt her back so he could look down at her properly, he pursed his lips when (Y/n) shook her head. She tried to cling to him even more until she was cutting off his breathing and making his chest pulse with a dull ache.
Instead of letting go, Eddie pressed his arms firmly around (Y/n) to the point he was sure he would hurt her in a minute, but it seemed to do the trick. Pinning her to him this tightly seemed to stop her from shaking and made her feel comforted, maybe even safe, he wasn't sure. But he was glad it worked.
"Talk to me," He repeated quietly. This clearly wasn't any sort of injury which was a bit of a relief, it meant Eddie wouldn't have to make a trip with the family down to the emergency room. But it still didn't tell him what the problem was.
"I don't know, I can't… I can't do anything. I feel bleak, my head… I want- I want to shut down."
It seemed to take a while for (Y/n) to find her words, but they didn't feel right. She couldn't find the right way to express how she felt or convey to Eddie what the problem was, but what she said clearly seemed to make sense to him because he nodded against her head and hummed.
She was so focused on breathing in his scent and meshing her face into his chest that she gasped when she realised his arms were no longer pinned around her. His hands carefully cupped her face and he tilted her head back so she was looking up at him, he wanted to check her over.
There was a mental checklist in Eddie's head while he leaned his chin down and looked into her eyes.
She was having a lot of headaches, she was suffering low moods. She was more tired than Eddie had ever seen her before and she was finding it hard to get up and to even start sentences and carry on a conversation.
"Do you still feel tired? Chris said you didn't feel able to get up." When she nodded, he hummed and ticked off another point in his mental list. "Have you eaten anything or had something to drink?" The shake of her head made Eddie's chest shudder.
His hands dropped from her face so his arms could bind around her, and (Y/n) didn't have to cling to him for Eddie to know she wanted to be held tightly. He squeezed her into him and leaned his cheek on top of her head while he gently swayed them from left to right.
He paused and waited while (Y/n) tried to move, but Eddie could feel how sluggish she was and the amount of effort it took for her to shift even a tiny bit on the sofa.
Eddie felt somehow relieved when (Y/n) twisted around so she could sit on his thighs and her arms bound back around his chest while she tucked back into him like a child seeking comfort. He gripped her waist, digging his fingers lovingly into her hip while he merged his lips with her temple and tried to kiss away her headache.
He knew the problem.
Eddie was ashamed it had taken this long for him to see the signs. (Y/n) had to get to this point for Eddie to realise something was wrong. Chris had to call him at work for him to see just how bad things were and to come home and try to help instead of blunder on, oblivious to his wife's torment.
She was depressed. Having Lilah had switched something in (Y/n)'s mind and during this last month, she had developed post-partum depression.
Eddie hadn't thought of this happening. He had missed the first four months with Chris being a baby because he had to finish his tour in the army. Shannon hadn't experienced any depression after having Chris, and neither had his sisters when they had their kids.
With how happy and excited they had been to have Lilah, Eddie vainly assumed (Y/n) wouldn't be at risk of developing this. But in hindsight he should have talked to her before now to make sure.
"Okay, I'm gonna call Bobby and let him know I can't go back to work for the next few days. And then I'm gonna get you an appointment with the doctor as soon as possible, we'll get you some help."
He could already see the phone calls planning out in his head. Bobby would understand. He would agree straight away that Eddie couldn't go back to work until (Y/n) was getting some help, he couldn't leave her like this and he had to look after the kids too.
And Eddie would ring the doctors now and make them give (Y/n) the earliest appointment. He didn't know the last time she had something to eat or drink, she was in agony in her mind and she couldn't get up. She needed an emergency appointment and Eddie wasn't giving up until someone listened to him and helped his wife.
"I'm sorry-"
"Don't say that. You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me?" He went back to swaying them from side to side while his hand ran up and down her back to try and calm her down.
She hadn't asked for this. She hadn't done anything to cause this and Eddie wouldn't have (Y/n) apologising when she hadn't done anything wrong. She was sick and she needed help, and that was exactly what was going to happen.
"I'm their mum, a-and I can't…"
I can't even finish a sentence.
A shudder passed through her body while she pressed up into Eddie, clutching him tighter like she thought he was going to agree with her. But the understanding in him was so loving and natural that (Y/n) didn't know what to think or do.
When she asked Chris to call Eddie, she did it because the kids needed him, not because she did. But having him comfort her and hold her broken pieces together like this was a remedy (Y/n) didn't know she needed until now. Eddie was going to help her. He wasn't going to let her feel like this for a moment longer and that was comforting.
(Y/n) didn't want to feel like this. She wanted to be a mother, she wanted to take Chris to school and look after him and cook with him and settle him. And she wanted to take Lilah out on walks to the park and actually feed and change her and cuddle with her and be a proper mum to both kids, rather than feeling like another child that needed tending to.
"Being unwell doesn't make you any less of a mum. You won't feel like this for long, I'll make sure of it."
(Y/n) felt a bit more free and able to move when she lifted her head from Eddie's chest so she could lean her cheek on his shoulder instead. She looked up at him with those doe eyes that always melted his heart and when he reached out to brush a stray tear from her cheek, (Y/n) leaned into the touch.
"I'm gonna take care of you."
His words were enough to calm down the raging storm inside (Y/n)'s mind and for a few moments, she forgot about the headache storming behind her eyes.
Her hand clutched at his wrist, keeping his hand where it was, cradling the side of her face. And she pushed up enough to capture Eddie's lips in a kiss. He was going to look after her, and that was all (Y/n) needed to hear.
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cripplecharacters · 2 days ago
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I was wondering: I noticed that in art I almost always see limb stumps that are, for the lack of a better word, thick and with a rounded end. But observing amputees around me, what I noticed is that their stumps are more tapered, they also are often uneven instead of perfectly round, and the rest of the limb is often thinner as a result of less muscle mass.
Is this coincidental, or do you think stumps are represented in a way that is assumed to be more aesthetically pleasing to abled folk? How common is the "perfect round muscular stump" thing, if at all??
Hi!
As an artist that seeks out art of disabled characters, it's 100% trying to make the character look "less disabled and more pretty". It's usually not a conscious decision, most people just have pretty=good and disabled=ugly ingrained into them and don't think about it ever. Positive depictions of disabled people will do everything to portray them as conventionally attractive as possible, and there is no disability that is exempt from this.
This applies to everything. Most art showing disabled people will try to keep the disability to the absolute minimum - it's not coincidence that positive disabled characters have to be white, thin, young, if they use a prosthetic it has to be really cool and/or unrealistic, if they use a wheelchair it has to be a manual that has to be really cool and/or unrealistic, and they have to look as abled as possible; an abled model who just happened to be holding a cane is preferable since gait disorders are ugly. Good luck trying to find a drawing of a character using an ostomy bag, with congenital skeletal conditions, with severe spasticity, in one of these big powerchairs, I won't mention facial differences and how non-existent realistic representation of them is. Hell, it can be hard to find art of blind characters who aren't wearing blindfolds and eyepatches (since disabled body part ugly), let alone using an aid like a cane or a brailler (since that's Disability, and not just a quirky character trait).
With stumps, it's the same thing. Most often you don't see them, since they are Clearly Disabled. Usually they're behind a cool prosthetic that's called something else that sounds less disabled. If they aren't, they're probably bandaged, since they are Surely Scary. If they aren't that, they will be perfectly round, scarless (or with that big "starburst" type scar for some reason), symmetrical to other limb, and essentially look like you just erased the rest of a model's leg or arm.
Again, I don't think this is done on purpose, I think artists just don't think enough about how they choose to portray minorities. No one is researching anything, everything is a game of telephone from how someone else draws it, who cares that that person didn't bother to check anything either.
[Disclaimer that we don't have amputee mods]
How common is the "perfect round muscular stump" thing?
Not very common, but someone with a disarticulation (much more rare than through-bone) will have their muscles still attached to something and thus may not have the kind of tissue atrophy like someone with an above the knee amputation will. Even weightlifters with an above/below amputation will have some degree of atrophy (you can look at guys like Max Okun, etc.) so it's not like you can just "exercise it out".
A residual limb can be fairly round, but it mostly depends on where it actually is. A lot of people will have excess skin from skin flaps + tissue atrophy which gives it a different shape, BE amputees can have the actual bone shapes visible on the stump, etc. And of course there is scar tissue (unless it's congenital) which can affect how the limb looks like beyond just the sew line being visible; it can leave the stump with an indent around it, etc.
But all of that is of course Disability and Different, so it gets omitted in art. It'd be cool if this wasn't the case, but what can you do.
mod Sasza
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todaywasamaritale · 3 days ago
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also! also also also! a very important addition to this is that there’s a very clear reason that the public school system is so visibly awful. it’s because of rich lawmakers who are widening the gap between public and private schools. those who can afford private schools aren’t affected, and those who can’t are subjected to this literal horror. and making political/economic gaps in children results in political/economic gaps in adults
certified america post by the way our education is so incredibly fucked.
not to mention that if you don’t want public and can’t afford private, you may even have to resort to homeschooling. but homeschooling is again being made a commodity for the rich, a cute aesthetic option for van life parents exploiting their kids for a message. if done responsibly, it’ll cost you a fortune, and if you can’t pay that fortune, then your kids are made illiterate and useless in an increasingly demanding world
the homeschooling thing especially irks me because like op said, public schools have the one-size-fits-all philosophy that oftentimes don’t work for neurodivergent kids. and neurodivergency is unfortunately usually unwelcome at (mostly religious) private schools, no matter what they tell you in their advertisement pitch. and all the accessibility issues about homeschooling apply here too, only worse because neurodivergent kids sometimes have no other option. i know because i was one such kid!
veering further into the homeschooling category because i heard we get to rant about the absolutely fucked up education system and i came as fast as i could. with all the limitations presented before you for homeschooling, money, means, etc., there’s an underlying danger of the ‘christian’ homeschooler cults. i put ‘christian’ in quotes because i am one and these cults do not act like one. and i say cult because that’s what they are. i’m lucky enough to come out of this cultlike community unscathed because i had a no-nonsense mother who saw bullshit and made sure her kids knew it. i also had many outside influences other than the prejudice and dogma of teachers and directors and parents of friends who didn’t know any better because they were never given the opportunity to learn any better.
the fact that THIS HELL was actually better for me than america’s politicized schools is insanity. and this doesn’t mean we abandon this flaming dumpsterfire, oh no, we’ve gotta fix it.
and fixing it constitutes making it liveable, not slapping the ten commandments on the wall and calling it a day
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jesuistrestriste · 3 days ago
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art wanting to be throat trained so he can perfectly stuck ur strapppp
he’s laid down w his head on ur lap
ur forcing a longer, thinner dildo down his throat to try and reverse his gag reflex a bit
he’s crying, turning his head and kicking his legs when u finally get the dildo deep enough for ur liking
he has to ask for a break bc he’s gagging sm!!!
oh my god yea..
throat training him would be an absolute dream. like he wants to do it so badly because he wants to be able to eventually take your strap fully down his throat, but the actual process of getting to that point is so messy and naughty:/
you have the harness on, art’s cheek against your inner thigh while he sits on the ground between your open legs. his hands have to stay behind his back, that was rule number one. rule number two: he can only move his right hand to tap your knee when he needs to breathe. and rule three is ‘no gagging’; that one seemed like a given.
but it was also easier said than done.
you grab a soft handful of his hair and ease his open mouth onto the tip of the dildo, then sliding your touch to the back of his neck to help guide him to take it deeper into his throat. his shoulders hitch and he chokes for a moment before he swallows and then looks up at you through his lashes
“mmngh,” he hums, his hands fidgeting behind his back from a lack of anything to hold onto. he wants to hold your thighs or your hand or even the plush carpet underneath him.
you smirk and stroke his upper back, “you can take more, baby.”
he wants to make you proud, so he tries. he does.
but two more inches slide down and disappear past his lips before his eyes are rolling back and his cheeks puff up with a muffled gag. he swallows again, trying to calm the urge to tap your leg, but he gags again. harder this time, and then he’s drooling around the strap buried in his mouth.
you chuckle and push your hips up, keeping the toy in his throat for longer, and you watch as his eyelids flutter and then tears fill his vision. he blinks, and the wetness rolls down.
“doin’ so good, Art… so much better than last time,” you coo, nodding, “hold it...”
he moans around the silicone, arousal pooling in his boxers, and then he coughs and gags again. spit drips from his bottom lip and over his chin. you pet his hair.
another lift of your hips, and then the tip of his nose is almost touching your lower abdomen. he’s taking all of it.
but that does it for him, and suddenly he realizes he can’t take in enough air. he swallows around the intrusion, before he coughs and trembles, and then he reaches his hand up in anticipation of needing to stop.
he doesn’t quite give you the signal though, wanting to hold out. he can tell how much you love this. it’s making him leak.
“ah,” you hum, “hold it, babe... just a little longer.. that’s it.. hollllddd it..”
he whimpers and blinks up at you before you smile and then nod.
that’s all the approval he needs from you to know that he’s done a good enough job. art pulls himself off of the toy with a sharp moan and then coughs harshly as strings of his saliva stick to his lips and break their connection with the strap as they dribble to the floor.
“fucking hell, baby, that was so good.. good job,” you praise him, and he shudders.
“can i touch now?” he asks, licking over his bottom lip.
“yeah, you can touch.”
his hand is shoving its way down into the front of his boxers immediately, and he almost topples forward into you as he starts to jerk himself off. only takes less than a minute for him to finish all over his own fingers; thoughts of your fake cock wrecking his mind. he sobs the whole way through.
“good boy,” you breathe out, watching him shake. his eyes are unfocused and lidded. he looks like a complete slut. a mess. he’s perfect.
“maybe tomorrow we can try face-fucking.”
i wrote smth abt strap sucking w art in the past if u want more <3
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absolutebl · 2 days ago
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This Week in BL - Some Surprises
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
NOV 2024 Week 1
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Ongoing Series - Thai
Fourever You (Thai Thurs YT) ep 5 of 16 - I love this show, but I absolutely hate the main couple's communication style. Or complete lack of communication style. I really hope the other couples are not gonna be this bad and it’s just because this one is leaning into the worst of BL archetypes. But I’m not confident. Poor Ter dating Hill put a big old target on his back. Earth being a dramatic stressed gay queen was peak comedy tho. Apparently the good kisses are only on WeTV (I am annoyed) so props to the giffers who keep me supplied. You're doing the BL gods work.
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I suddenly realized, after the bullying sequence, that one of the reasons I’m liking this so much is it reminds me of early Japanese yaoi. There’s something about the dynamics of the characters and the way they're reacting to situations that’s not very Thai BL feeling. And if I think of this is more JBL, I forgive it. Or maybe that’s just why I’m liking it so much despite its flaws? Difficult to understand my own feels about this show.
Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - I don’t like this new evil-bonkers rich kid character and whatever is going on with Jack and Rose and that whole story. It’s boring. And then my brain short circuited. No further thoughts... just War in a wife beater. 
Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 7 of 15 - Phun's bitch face really is epically wonderful. I kinda enjoy everybody ribbing the two of them because they have no idea what’s actually going on. I'm chronicling my experience with 2024 as compared to 2014 here.
Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 9 of 12 - Omg cutest boyfriends EVER. I don’t even mind how cheesy their bf era is. Does this lull jive with the rest of the story? Nope. But ya know that’s GMMTV’s thing these days, flailing during the final act.
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Perfect 10 Liners (Thai Sun YouTube?) ep 1 of 24 - Pretty standard Thai BL university fair. I am hoping it’s better than ForceBook’s previous offering. Yet another sniff test. Is this the trope of the year? Meanwhile, they also deployed the crash into me trope in episode one. Who do they think they are? Taiwan?
New is directing this uni BL with a massive cast + massive run time. It's an endurance test ya'll - we will be watching this until APRIL of 2025! Su su na.
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Every You Every Me (Thai Mon Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - I really like that they had the bandwidth to give us a little side couple with this installment. Fun crumbs. Meanwhile, the thing with the shirt in front of the mirror was extremely sexy. This installment was very sad though. And, of course, I’m not happy about it. To top it all off, next week is musical themed, so you know I’m disgruntled about it. 
Ongoing Series - Not Thai
See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga) ep 3 of 13 - Aw spoiled neglected rich boy wants to be cared for and spoiled honestly. I do love them. Also tiny idiot syndrome is spreading. 
Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 6 of ? - The side couple (teacher student, hyung romance but he’s using em) interesting. Not sure how I feel about them. The subs are so bad it’s largely incomprehensible but I’m still enjoying it for no defensible reason. 
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My Damn Business (Korea Sat YT) eps 5 of 7 - I love that our uke can be such a little shit. I love it when a tsundere has some serious snark and attitude to back his petulance up. Also liquid courage. At least we got to the root of the tsundere. Also neck kisses and cuddles! 
Eccentric Romance (Korea Weds Viki) eps 7-8 of 12 - Oooo, cute kiss. Drunken but adorable. I do like it when they use older Korean actors in KBL, they actually know how to kiss. Has the kiss saved this show? Possibly. I’m shallow. 
Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 7 of 10 eps - Our con man is such a good little homemaker. And it’s sexy yukata time! Love this trope. 
Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Same plot as the Thai original, only from Japan. Very similar so far. I hope Rei is a bit more smart and Arashi is a bit less of a sleaze. I still get too much secondhand embarrassment and my mame alert is blaring.  I'm wary.
Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China Sun iQIYI) eps 1-2 - Triggers for child abuse, alcoholism. Two artists, one an abused rich kid and the other a tough scrappy poor kid, in the same art prep school. I of course adore the side couple of the much younger kid and the older teacher. Oh, I do like it. But it's CBL, I'm very scared as to where it might go.
Bad to Bed (Taiwan Sat YouTube) ep 1 of 10 - Influencer Wan Xiong suffers from insomnia, it’s a physical and mental battle. As he tried to find a solution, he encounters five boys along the way. I'm putting this on the list because it's airing and I just found out about it but I didn't have time to watch it yet. I hear it's v weird.
It's airing but...
The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) 10 eps - Supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.
Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - I DNF'd at ep 7, I couldn't make it. I am weak. Life is hard enough right now, this show is making it harder. It’s not what I want from my entertainment.
Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (Korea Thurs Gaga) eps 4 of 8 - I put this one on pause. It's too heavy for me right now. I'll wait to know if the ending is hard fought happy (and then watch) or not (and won't finish). Sorry all, rough times this side of the screen.
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Random I watched it
Vending Machine Sabi Koi AKA Can I Buy Your Love From A Vending Machine AKA Sono Koi, Jihanki de Kaemasu ka? (Japan 2023) - This show is utterly adorable, impossibly awkward, and kinda old fashioned. About a cute nerdy little office worker (he's out!) who has a big'ol crush on the tall hulking vending machine guy. They fall in love. And that’s it. And it’s charming. There’s some first name eroticism, because Japan, and there's emphasis on communication, which is so not Japan, but turns this into an organically loving and talkative relationship. There’s a bit of an age gap, and our office cutie may or may not have a muscles fetish (the hot bod not the shellfish) because (if I’ve told you once I’ve told you 1 million times) Japan always goes kinky. And you know what, I loved it. 9/10
Next Week Looks Like This:
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Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
November BL:
11/4 Our Youth AKA Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu (Japan Mon Gaga?) 11 eps - Minase was an exemplary high school student who hates Hirukawa, head bully and top delinquent. But then Minase uncovers Hirukawa’s secret and the two get intimate.
11/15 Caged Again (Thai Fri WeTV) 10 eps - Penguin escapes zoo by turning into a human. Gets trapped again and a panther falls in love with him.
11/17 Your Sky (Thai iQIYI) 12 eps - Due to an unforeseen situation, a naive freshman and the campus’s popular senior agree to pretend to be a couple - but their fake deal begins to generate real feelings.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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Honor the crumbs indeed. This pair is so much crumbs it's practically dust. (Love Sick 2014)
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God he is so stupidly in love.
(lask week)
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs
Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.
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merlyn-bane · 2 days ago
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Codywan Cuddling
I heard my friend @dontbelasagnax wasn't feeling good tonight so I asked her if I could write her a little drabble or something and she asked for Codywan cuddling. Lo! I have returned with approximately 550 words of Codywan having a nice domestic evening in when Cody isn't feeling too good himself featuring cuddling, the Galactic Public Broadcasting Service, and lineage soup recipes as a love language <3 Ficlet under the cut.
Obi-Wan had known that his poor former commander wasn't feeling well when he left that morning for a day of tedious–but necessary–Council meetings. Cody had already had a low-grade fever if the back of Obi-Wan's hand was any gauge, and the way he'd squinted against even the low light of their bedroom had spoken to at least the beginnings of a headache. But he'd insisted that he would be okay and that Obi-Wan should attend to his duties, and the Order's finances were certainly important if not necessarily glamorous, and so Obi-Wan had gone–after securing his partner's promise to rest.
He's quiet as he lets themselves into their quarters, careful not to let the door slam against its frame the way it's become wont to do in recent years in case Cody's migrated to the main room since he left. From the glow of the holoscreen, it seems likely. "Codylove?"
"On the sofa," Cody rasps, holding up one hand in a sort of half-wave over the back of the couch, and Obi-Wan softens even further with sympathy. He sets his armload down on the counter carefully and starts unpacking it.
"I picked up latemeal for us from the refectory, darling."
An inquisitive head pops up over the back of the couch like a grass weasel, clearly interested in whatever Obi-Wan has to offer. It makes Obi-Wan smile, even as he notes that Cody is still squinting and privately wonders just what–if anything–he's managed to eat today.
"What'd they have today?"
"Grandmaster Yoda's specialty, rootleaf stew." Obi-Wan carefully brings the two flimsifoam soup containers and a couple of spoons around to the living area, chuckling softly as he sees Cody's nose scrunch up rather adorably. "I promise it's not as bad as it sounds, my darling. And there's nothing better for chasing away a bug, believe you me." The Jedi's eyes crinkle at the corners with humor. "And best not tell Master Yoda that I snuck enough red sauce in yours to down a krayt dragon while his back was turned."
"I love you," Cody breathes out, all relief, and Obi-Wan deposits the soup containers on the caf table in front of the sofa before Cody can inevitably ensnare him around the waist and drag him back into the (wonderful) cage of his arms. He manages just in time and of course puts up no resistance, going lax in Cody's secure hold as a nose buries itself in his hair.
"I love you too, my darling, but I'm afraid we cannot actually eat the soup in this position." Cody grunts, making absolutely no effort to actually move anywhere, and Obi-Wan laughs softly before using the Force to draw the remote to himself. "Very well then. Shall we see what's playing on GPBS?"
"Alderaan Outdoors," Cody murmurs into his hair. "It's not as much fun to watch without special Kenobi Commentary."
Warmth blooms in Obi-Wan's chest at the light, unbearably fond teasing. Cody tends to have that affect on him. He takes one of Cody's hands in both of his own and brings it up to press a whiskery kiss to his palm. "Alderaan Outdoors it is, commentary and all."
"Then soup."
"Yes, darling. Then soup."
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em-emu · 3 days ago
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I LOVE getting to go see movies in theaters and really worry about the potential for the movie theater industry disappearing. I feel like movie theaters provide such a comforting level of community experience... like in addition to the fun of seeing something with friends, being able to go see a movie by myself and just experience sharing space with strangers while we enjoy a movie together holds such a special place in my heart. I've gone to the movies a lot this year, and almost every time I've gone to see a new release, the crowd reactions made the film that much better.
Not to mention movie theaters often just create a genuinely better watch experience. That's what they're FOR. Watching movies in theaters makes for a much more immersive experience of a film. There are so many local movie theaters in my city that play reruns and old films and I'm so grateful for being able to go experience films anywhere from Nosferatu to In the Mood for Love to Jurassic Park in theaters.
Plus there's something so charming about little local movie theaters. Sometimes I do want the huge screen and surround sound of a big chain theater, but I think some movies are best watched with the added character and charm of an ornate theater playing 70mm film, or the novelty of a drive-in theater, or a retro cinema with uncomfortable chairs, neon carpets, and the world's cheapest popcorn.
Anyways that's all to say movie theaters can function as really great third spaces and are so important to films themselves and anyone who likes movies should absolutely make an effort to support their nearby movie theater, ESPECIALLY the local independent ones.
idk if this is a boomer take but I think ppl should make more of an effort to go see movies in theaters bc I couldn’t bear it if the movie theater industry went down and the only way to watch movies was through streaming I’m not strong enough
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soulfarer23 · 2 days ago
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Everything is equally easy to manifest
Barely active on Tumblr, but put this together in my head while in the shower and had the strong urge to post it because I think it's a good comparison.
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One thing that I don't see many people point out is the fact that anything you can possibly think of is not only totally possible to manifest but also as easy to manifest as literally everything else.
All manifestations are equally easy to manifest, as long as you assume that they are.
Manifesting 1 billion dollars is just as easy as manifesting 1 dollar. The only thing that makes us think that it isn't, is the 3D, which we all know is irrelevant when it comes to manifesting.
Manifesting a A++ in that awful math test is just as easy as manifesting a B- even if you didn't write a single thing.
Manifesting to wake up is just as easy as manifesting to wake up in your desired reality. AS LONG AS YOU ASSUME IT IS.
We are literally all in creative mode but keep telling ourselves that we are in survival mode. It's like playing minecraft and not realizing that you can open the creative inventory whenever you want and just get whatever you want instantly.
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Let's say the 3D is just a regular minecraft realm and the 4D is the creative menu and commands.
When you look at the 3D, dirt blocks are literally everywhere, but it takes time and work to get a whole diamond block.
Now look at the 4D, the dirt block and the diamond block are both easy available, you just have to select them, with your thoughts (or whatever method) being the cursor and click.
Getting a single dirt block or a stack of diamond blocks is the exact same amount of effort.
The 3D makes it seem like some things are harder to get than other things, it makes us assume that one thing must take longer to manifest than the other, but that's just another way we let the 3D fool us.
The apparent value or rarity of something in the 3D has absolutely nothing to do with how 'easy' or 'hard' it is to manifest.
Stop assuming that 'better' or 'bigger' things take longer to manifest.
Circumstance does not matter, nor does 'value' or 'rarity' or logical probability.IT'S ALL JUST THE 3D. IT'S ALL IRRELEVANT.
In the 4D, everything is equal and the only thing that makes them harder to obtain is you.
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I have to expose myself a little bit, too. I've been living in the end to wake up in the Void state for two months. Did it work? No. and why? Because I still had the assumption that it is something harder to manifest than other things. I've literally manifested a bunch of other stuff during that time, like food, free seats on the bus and changes to my school schedule.
Like, I manifested to get my dad to buy me snacks within an hour, because I assumed that its 'small' and 'easy'.
Now assume that everything is small and easy, and suddenly you can win a billion dollars every hour.
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Anyways, I am now affirming for myself that everything is equally easy to manifest and that I always manifest whatever I want within a day, and then I should definitely be set and fuck off into the Void-State lol
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writingsbytee · 16 hours ago
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SURPRISE! - TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM (AFAB) READER
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WARNINGS: 18+ ; angst; fluff; SMUT; minors do not interact!
PAIRING: Terry x Gwen (reader)
SUMMARY: You and Terry have been broken up for 3 months. You’re injured in an accident and the hospital calls Terry to notify him and… surprise
TROPES: second chance; 
WORD COUNT: 4,074
“Ms. Daniels, please wake up”, a gentle voice eases me back into consciousness. My head feels like it’s being split open with a claw hammer. I blink slowly so that my eyes can adjust. 
When my eyes finally focus I look up to see a pretty lady in scrubs looking down kindly at me. 
“Welcome back Ms. Daniels. You had us scared there for a moment,” she says.
“What hospital am I in? What happened?” I say sitting up and holding my head. 
“You’re at Benson Memorial. You were in a bicycle accident. You’re fine just a few bumps and bruises. Your head CT was clear, so nothing to worry about there, ” she says handing me a cup of water. 
I take slow small sips as I try to recall the past few hours.  I never even saw that car coming as I crossed the road from one trail to the next. I hear muffled shouting coming from outside my room, and the doctor shoots a nervous glance my way. 
“Ms. Daniels, your boyfriend is outside and I don’t know how much longer he can wait”
I nearly choke on my water, “Boyfriend?”
I hear a commotion outside my door before the doctor/ nurse can open her mouth. 
“Nah, I’ve been here for two fucking hours and no one has told me how she’s doing yet! I’m going to see my girlfriend if you want to throw me out after then throw me out!”
I’ll never forget that voice. Terry is here. Now. He bursts into my room looking as good as ever but incredibly worried. When his eyes land on mine his shoulders sag with relief and he rushes to my side.
“What happened?! How bad are you hurt? Were you wearing your helmet?” He asks, his mouth running a mile a minute. I must be dreaming there’s no way Terry’s here we broke up 3 months ago after he came back from Shelby Springs. 
He came back different after trying to bail his cousin Mike out of jail. I tried to be there for him and provide all the support he needed but he just pushed me away. When I found out that he had been helping a girl named Summer, he completely shut down and wouldn’t say anything. I didn’t want to give him an ultimatum so I told him that when he figured everything out to come and find me. Two weeks later I got a letter that absolutely broke me. 
“Why did they call you?” I asked looking at my doctor.
“He’s listed as the primary on your emergency contact list we have on file here”, she said motioning someone else in scrubs to come in. Another woman comes in holding an ultrasound machine and my heart stops.
“Is my baby ok?!” I ask immediately grasping at my stomach. 
“That’s why I needed to wake you. Ms. Daniels, we need your consent to do a transvaginal ultrasound so we can evaluate the status of your baby”, the doctor says remaining calm. 
I nod, “Of course, please do what you need to do”.
There’s a deep sigh to my right. I almost forgot that Terry was next to me. When I glance over at him he looks shocked and heartbroken. 
“I’m sorry I know I should’ve told you but you sent that letter the day I took the test and I didn’t know what to do”, I said right before the waterworks started, courtesy of your pregnancy hormones. Terry just looked at me his eyes softening but his trademark frown was still there. 
“Can you give us a minute please?” Terry asks the doctor.
She nods, “We’ll be right outside tap the door twice. We need to get this ultrasound done so the faster the better you two.” Then she’s out the door.
“So the baby’s mine?” Terry asks.
I nod my head, a fresh wave of tears coming. 
“I never meant to keep from you this long but you weren’t returning my calls and I couldn’t reach you. You didn’t leave a return address on the letters you sent, which ripped me apart by the way, and you just fell off the face of the earth Terry! I mean come the fuck on! I’m in love with you and finding out I’m having your baby just for you to dump us over a fucking letter!”, I’m out of breath, my chest heaving with anger.
He opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off, “We don’t have the time to get into this now. We’ll talk later now please let the doctor in, I need this baby to be ok”, I say my eyes burning with unshed tears. Jesus everything makes me so emotional now, well let’s be real it wasn’t that different before I got pregnant. Terry looks at me, his eyes softening to that doe-eyed steel gray.
“Sure thing princess,” he says with a small smirk. Terry gets up and I bite my lip at the way his ass looks in his khakis. Has he gotten finer since I last saw him? He taps the door twice and almost immediately the nurse is back in the door, the doctor following in shortly after.  They set up all the equipment, I put my feet in the stirrups, and the doctor began her exam. 
“Aaaaand that is your baby’s heartbeat!”, the doctor says as she points to the disfigured blob that’s my baby.
“Terry look!” I say as I point my finger toward the screen. 
I turn my head to the right and I see a small smile on Terry’s face.
“That’s our baby?” he says all choked up. Two small tears fall out of each eye as he looks down at me. 
“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” I say reaching for Terry’s hand.
He grabs it and says, “We’ll talk when we get home.”
Home? Like my home or he’s just taking me to my house and that’s my home. 
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“How did the hospital even get in touch with you?”, I ask as Terry drives us home. 
“I just got a new phone, same number,” he says eyes focused on the road.
“Oh, ok,” I say folding my arms across my chest.
“I already know what you’re thinking. I was going to call you, but a lot of what I have to say shouldn’t be said over the phone. I want a chance to explain myself. I never should’ve ended things the way I did. You deserve so much better than what I gave you and I can’t be any more clear when I say I’m so sorry. I fucked up.” 
“Ok when we get home I want to know everything”, I say gently. Terry looks my way and nods twice before looking back at the road. 
“Yeah, can I get two double cheeseburgers all the way with cajun fries please?” Terry says to the ‘five guys’ employee.
“Aww, you remember my order?” I say my face softening. 
“It’s been three months. Not three years. I didn’t forget baby” Terry huffed looking at me with that sexy-ass side-eye. 
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m supposed to be mad at you,” I say rolling my eyes. There’s no way this man has me in the palm of his hand in an hour and a half. I need to stand the fuck up. Terry grabs our food when they call our number and escorts us out of the restaurant.
He chuckles as we get back in the car and says, “Oh it’ll come back to you I’m sure.” I roll my eyes, looking at the scenery passing by. 
“You said ‘I can’t do this anymore Gwen. It’s not you it’s me.’ Terry, you have no fucking idea how much that hurt. How insignificant it made me feel. Like I wasn’t even good enough to break up in person so you use a fucking letter?” These pregnancy hormones are no joke I was thinking about mounting this man and now I’m going off on him. 
“Babygirl I’m so sorry. Please, when we get home I’ll finally be able to explain myself. Please don’t cry, baby I never meant to hurt you the way that I did. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
“I made my peace with this a long time ago Terry. Some people just aren’t meant to be together,” my voice breaks as I try to keep my emotions at bay. 
“I wanted us to work so bad I would’ve done anything to keep you, but I won’t do that anymore. I’m worth more than that. Our baby is worth more than that. I won’t have them question my love for them I’m going to show up for them every day because that’s what a mother does,” I take a few deep breaths to try and compose myself, but I can feel the dam start to break. I look over at Terry and he has a deep frown on his face. He’s white-knuckling the steering wheel and I can tell by his posture that he’s trying to keep his cool.
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I unlock my front door to let Terry and myself in. He follows silently behind me. I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves. Despite how he feels right now he still pulls out everything I need to eat and sets my place at the table. I wait for him to join me before I start eating. We eat in a tense, awkward silence before he breaks the spell of uncertainty around us.
“Mike’s dead.” I didn’t have to look up to see the pain on Terry’s face. The burning behind my eyes is instant.
“What do you mean dead? You were going to bail him out?!” I reached for my necklace. It’s a locket, Terry gave me after our first anniversary. A small heart-shaped photo of us sits inches from my heart every day. Terry took a deep breath before he went into detail. About Shelby Springs and its corrupt law system. How he almost died on multiple occasions. Who Summer was and how he couldn’t leave her fate in their corrupt hands. 
“I couldn’t leave until I knew I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life. I couldn’t involve you and potentially put you at risk. I’d never forgive myself if you were hurt, especially knowing what I know now,” the guilt evident in Terry’s voice as he buried his head in his hands. 
I feel the warmth of the tears as they glide down my face. My hand comes up to cover my mouth to stifle a sob. I rush to Terry’s side, wrapping my arms around him. 
“I’m so sorry Terry! You shouldn’t have had to deal with this all on your own. What can I do?” 
This whole situation is miscommunication at its finest. I grab Terry’s hand and lead him back to the room we used to share.
“I didn’t bring you back here to have sex. Take your shoes and shirt off and get on the bed.” I say kicking my shoes off. I crawl to the head of the bed and make myself comfortable before making grabby hands at Terry.  He crawled his way up the bed before laying his head on my stomach. I started giving him a scalp massage as he loaded everything he’d gone through while we were apart. When he finished we were both a mess. Terry lifts his head and my heart breaks at his expression. 
“I never wanted any of this. All I tried to do was save my cousin and instead, I lost him. I lost you, our baby. I’m alone now.”
I’m shaking my head before he can finish his sentence, “You didn’t lose Mike. In the physical sense yes but, he’s always with you Terry. I know it’s easier said than done, but you can put this behind you and move on. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this.”
“Together?” he looks like a scared sad little boy and it breaks my heart. I reach my hand down and caress his face. 
“Together Terry, all three of us,” you say as a fresh wave of tears begins. You were going to dehydrate at this rate with all the crying.
“Come on, we’ve had a busy day and I think a shower would do us some good,” you say sitting up. Terry sits up and scoots to the foot of the bed. I look at him and really notice how tired he looks. Like the weight of the world is sitting on his shoulders.
I make my way towards him and kiss his cheek, “Come on, your clothes are right where you left them. I’ll be in the bathroom when you’re ready.”
I grab one of Terry’s old ‘Marine’ t-shirts and boy shorts and head into the bathroom. I can’t believe this shit, no way this is real life. Poor Mike, poor Terry, and even poor Summer. 
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I’m in the shower washing the dirt and leaves out of my hair when I hear the bathroom door open. I keep quiet continuing to wash my hair waiting for Terry to join me. I feel the cool air as he opens the shower door and steps inside. His arms wrap around my waist from behind and he rests his head on my shoulder. 
“I’m so sorry Gwen. You’re not unlovable. Loving you is the easiest thing in the world. I couldn’t come back unless I knew you were safe. I’ll be making this right for the rest of my life to you and our little bean,” Terry says as his hand migrates to my stomach. 
I turn in his arms wrapping my hands around his neck, “I’m not going to pretend that I’m ok with how you did everything but, I understand. I forgive you, Terry.  I did as soon as you burst through the hospital door,” I finish with a chuckle. 
Terry grips my face in his hands, “I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you and the baby how sorry I am. I wasn’t there when you found out and you have no idea how bad I wish I were. Every doctor’s appointment I’m there, you’ll never feel how you felt when you got that letter, Gwen. That’s a promise.” Terry’s eyes have that fierce determination in them. You know when he gets that way there’s no stopping him.
“Stop crying baby, I hate seeing you so upset,” Terry’s using his thumbs to wipe my tears. 
I shake my head, a watery laugh leaving my lips, “It’s hormones more than anything.” My eyes widen as Terry drops to his knees in the shower. His hands wrap around my hips. He presses his forehead to my belly and kisses the barely-there baby bump.
“Hey there little one. I’m your dad. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to find out about you. I’m here now. Daddy’s not going anywhere.” 
I could barely see Terry over the tears in my eyes. A watery smile forms on my lips when Terry lifts his head to look at me.
“What is it, baby?” he asks.
“Kiss me,” I say pulling him up to meet me.
Terry towers over me pressing my back against the shower wall—nothing but steam and unspoken confessions hanging in the air. 
“Are you sure, princess? I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for”, Terry’s face takes on that deep frown that’s so attractive to me.
“I’m sure Terry. You’re still in the doghouse but, that doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you and I want us to be a family, so yes please kiss me.”
When Terry kisses me it’s like the world stops. An involuntary moan leaves my lips. It’s like we have all the time in the world. He kisses me slowly, deeply, all-consuming. 
“I forgot how good your lips feel, princess.” Terry’s eyes darken in color and I can almost read his mind. 
“I’m going to kiss you again ok?”, a small smirk makes its way onto his face as he crowds my space. 
“You’re not leaving any room for Jesus are you?” I ask chuckling.
“There’s been too much space between us the past three months. Prepare to be sick of me, baby girl.” Terry’s voice drops an octave and I can feel my ovaries crying. His hand glides down my front pausing over my barely-there baby bump.
“We’re going to be great parents,” I reach my hand for Terry’s face caressing his cheek. 
He smiles that megawatt smile of his and nods, “Without a doubt.” And then he kisses me again.  We’re a mess of lips, tongues, and teeth. My pregnancy hormones have me grinding against Terry’s leg like a dog in heat. 
“You missed Daddy huh?”, he asks placing his thigh in between my legs. He grabs my hips and slides me up and down the length of his thigh. The friction on my neglected clit is out of this world as I release a needy moan. 
“I can’t hear you. Do I need to stop?” Terry grips my hips forcing me to stop.
“No, no, no I miss you, Daddy! I do. Please don’t stop. I need this,” I grip his shoulders, leaving little crescent indents.
“Look at me, sweet girl. Tell Daddy what you want,” Terry says gripping my chin and lifting it to meet his eyes. 
I can barely put two words together and he wants me to tell him what I want. 
“I love it when your eyes get all dopey like this, you want Daddy inside you?” Terry’s lapping at my neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. I’ll have a time with my concealer in the morning but that’s not my concern at the moment. I reach for his wrist, bringing his hand down to my pussy, right where I want him. 
“Please Daddy I need you. I need this please,” my voice taking on a whiny pitch. Next thing I know the water’s being shut off and Terry’s opening the shower door. 
“There are things I want to do to you that can’t be done in the shower. Come on,” Terry says while wrapping me up in a towel before leading me out of the bathroom. 
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“Ugh! Daddy don’t stop please!” My legs won’t stop shaking as Terry sucks the soul out of me. I lost count of how many times I’ve come already. I look down at Terry while he’s devouring my pussy. The sounds in this room are purely pornographic. 
He looks up at me through hooded eyes and moans the sound vibrating against my clit. 
“Ouuu Daddy yes!! Right there! Don’t stop!”, I’m a panting mess. I look down at Terry again and all I see are the whites of his eyes. 
“I forgot how good you taste baby. I can’t get enough mm!” You’d think Terry never ate a day in his life the way he’s eating me out.
“Terry I… I need you!” I squeal pushing his head away.  
He releases my clit with a small pop before sitting up on his knees. His eyes narrowed, “Now I’ll let you have that one ‘cause it’s been so long. Don’t do that shit again. I’ll finish eating when I finish. Understand?” Terry has my face in a vice-grip, my lips puckered.
“Yes Daddy,” I say, willing to do whatever he asks as long as he gives me that dick. I’d probably go rob a bank if he asked. 
“On your side, princess,” Terry says as he places a few pillows behind me.
I turn on my side and Terry’s right behind me kissing any skin he can get his hands on. 
“Fuck, I missed this. I missed your smell, your taste, your smile, your laugh, and even when you roll your eyes. Even though you know that’s five lashes automatically,” Terry says peppering my whole body in kisses. 
“I missed you too Daddy. Now are you going to show me how much, or do I have to get started without you?” I tease him by running my hands down my body. Terry playfully smacks my hands away before lifting my leg and sliding into me. 
We moan simultaneously as Terry starts to move, “Oh god! I forgot how big you are!” I moan as Terry bottoms out.  
My head falls back onto Terry’s shoulder, “I’m not going to last!” I squeal the burning already starting in my lower belly. It feels so good from this angle, Terry keeps hitting my g-spot with every thrust. 
“Come whenever you want baby. Daddy’s got you,” Terry breathes into my ear. The neighbors can probably hear squelching and moaning coming from my room but I really don’t give a fuck. If their man was digging their shit out like Terry was doing to me, they’d be screaming too. 
“No! Come with me please! I need it baby!” I moan trying to plant a kiss somewhere on Terry. He sees me struggling and bends his head to kiss me. He grabs my neck with one of is free hands, not hard enough to do harm but, just enough to give me that much more pleasure. 
“Open,” he says stilling inside me. I lean my head back a little farther, opening my mouth. Terry smiles deviously like the freaky devil he is and I watched dazed as a small glob of spit makes its way from his mouth to mine.
“Now swallow,” I do as he asks and open my mouth to show him it’s all gone.  
“Jesus, woman you’re going to kill me! Fucking love how nasty you get for me. Daddy’s little slut,” Terry groans. He slides out of me and I flop onto my back. 
“Come to mama,” I say grabbing his face and pulling him in for another sloppy kiss. I reach for his dick, wrapping my hands around it, and I feel him shudder. Terry moans as I give him a few slow strokes. 
“Get back inside me please. I need to come,” I wine.
“Again? Who made you so needy?” Terry asks smirking down at me. 
“You going to keep talking shit or remind me of how I got pregnant in the first place?” I ask. 
Terry grabs my throat almost instantly, “Who you think you’re talking to?”
He brings one of my legs up to his shoulder and I roll my eyes. Terry’s face darkens, as he bottoms out inside me for the second time.
“I told you I was going to let that shit slide. Now you pushing it,” he said as he begins to thrust. I’m grasping at air, that’s how good his dick is. 
“Aww look at you, getting fucked stupid. How’s it feel princess?” Terry taunts grabbing one of my hands interlocking our fingers. If I could talk I probably say something smart, but Terry’s right he’s fucking me stupid. I can’t put a single sentence together. 
“Huh what was that? Daddy can’t hear you.” A particularly hard thrust has me screaming, my orgasm hitting me out of nowhere. I feel myself soak the sheet and Terry, but I can barely keep my eyes open. My nails drag down his back, marking him up.
“Fuck baby I’m cumming, kiss me,” Terry moans. 
I grab the back of his neck, bringing his face to mine, but before our lips meet I whisper a quiet ‘I love you’. Our lips meet and we both moan as Terry fills me up. He stays inside me as I remove my leg from his shoulder. Both of us panting and staring at each other with awestruck goofy smiles. We have some work to do, but I can’t wait to see what this next chapter has in store for us.
THE END.
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Annnnd that’s a wrap!! As always constructive criticism is appreciated but please be nice ‘cause I’m sensitive. I feel like I'm so bad at writing sex scenes, but I'm trying to get better. I really had fun writing this one. I anyone has any request DM me or ask anonymously. Until next time my little freaks <3
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valyrfia · 1 day ago
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In terms of mental health and mentality.(Aside from Norris, I'm not comparing them at all. Completely different situations) I genuinely don't think any other driver coulve come out as stronger as Charles did out of 2022 and 2023. I know that when we remember those times is with anger, pain, frustration and heartbreak but seeing this season and Charles is completely another driver,or actually the same but just, above others in terms of mentality (and he was already an exceptional driver) the performances he has been putting out with a car that had no place showing those results , would be more appreciated if the prize was something bigger. So now looking back at it it's like, this made him stronger, that wasn't a curse, or an unlucky fate, that was a journey. It wasn't fair, it shoulve been better for him but look how far he has come. And the crazy thing is I don't even see this current Charles as his prime prime, I feel like he has something more to display in terms of skill and talent that have not been appreciated yet but I can bet anything that it will. So it makes me kind of emotional and proud. He is truly so strong
I agree. 2022 and 2023 was truly the depths, but I think it taught Charles how to find resolve and work one's way out mentally of what feels like a black hole. I also think it honed his ability to deal with any sort of car and car unpredictability. His consistency in what has not been the fastest car in the past year is absolutely unmatched. A lot of people are comparing it to Max's consistency and talent in his 2020 season. I also completely agree that Charles is not yet at his performance ceiling, he's climbing steadily to his prime but his improvement in even the past year has been noticeable (I don't think the Charles of 2022 had the skill or the experience to pull off the drives he delivered this year in Suzuka and Monza). Charles has further to go soon and if Ferrari do indeed pull through as the strongest or even second strongest team next season (which, Forza) Charles will be one to watch for the championship.
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