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#but i can already imagine what it would look like
niningtori · 3 days
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make you cry | part one
pairing: beomgyu x you
summary: beomgyu is your manwhore best friend who you've been secretly in love with for years. one night, he asks you to blur the lines between friendship and physical intimacy for his own convenience.
genre: ANGST, romance, smut (mdni), fwb
warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!gyu, eventual sub!gyu, fingering (vaginal), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 4.2k
notes: hi friends! i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i'd rather it be done than sitting in my drafts. pls don't be mean ;_;
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being in love with your best friend is not for the faint of heart, you think. in some cases, it’s the easiest thing in the world, but beomgyu makes it difficult. he’s not a bad guy, at least not deep down, but as you watch him break the heart of another notch in his belt, you can’t help but shiver at the fact that he’d very easily do the same to you if you gave him that chance. not that you ever will, that is, but the thought still remains.
you met in grade school. for you, it was a classic case of love at first sight. you had just fallen off the swingset and the teacher had yet to notice you, so you were crying alone when he came up to you with a dinosaur bandaid in tow. he looked like an angel with the sun encircling him, and even as a child, you thought he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen as he held his little hand out for you to grasp. you had no chance to steel your heart when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, and after that, the rest is history. 
that was years ago, but the image of him holding out his hand is engraved in your bones. you think about it even now as you watch him make the poor, unfortunate girl in front of you bawl like a baby. she asks him why he's doing this, what she did wrong, how she can fix it to make him stay. but he's dead set on breaking her heart tonight. and you'll be the one who takes his tipsy ass home after he's done ruining this girl’s perception of love. you’re nothing more than a glorified lackey and enabler, but that's just how it is.
“god, i don’t know why they can never just let go. they always have to make it so hard,” he grumbles in the passenger’s seat of your care. he seems more annoyed than genuinely upset and you can’t help but to feel for the girl who he just unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a house party, so you speak up for once.
“it’s not her fault, beoms. she just really likes you,” you reason. not that it matters, anyway, but you feel better after speaking your mind.
“so it’s my fault? i just don’t get it. i told her no strings attached from the beginning. the fact that she took it seriously is her own problem.” well, nevermind about feeling better. you feel even worse for her now.
“it’s hard not to get attached to you,” you mumble.
“what?” he asks, not even really paying attention to what you’re saying, but still asking for the sake of being (what he thinks is) polite.
“no, it’s nothing,” you reply quickly.
“mmm,” he nods, completely preoccupied with his own issues to really give a fuck about what you have to say. then, as if by a stroke of genius, he says his next words without much thought.
“i just thought of something! you would never act like that with me, would you?” you can’t help but scowl. of course you’d act like that. you’re a normal human being with normal feelings. you’ve already fallen for beomgyu without the physical intimacy, so you can’t imagine how you’d act if you actually had sex with him. but you can’t tell him that, or else he’d start suspecting something.
“i guess not,” you sigh. 
“then why don’t we hook up instead?” he asks, genuinely earnest. 
“no,” you say simply.
“why not?” he frowns, somewhat offended.
“i’m not interested,” you shrug. you don’t realize that your indifference has the opposite effect on beomgyu. what he perceives as your disgust only interests him more.
“c’mon, i’d definitely show you a good time,” he argues.
“i’m fine, thanks.” 
“no, you’re not fine. you haven’t slept with anybody in months. not since what’s-his-name, right? it’s the perfect deal. i’ll give you the time of your life and i’ll get to fuck without any feelings involved.” you try your hardest not to say it’s too late for that. those words will never leave your mouth, though. or else he’d drop you like a hot potato.
“i said no and i mean no. besides, i kind of like somebody right now.” you’re not lying, really. you truly do like, even love, somebody right now, and he’s sitting right next to you.
“who is he?” he asks. “actually, your taste in men is so shit, i don't even wanna know.” usually, that would hurt your feelings, but this whole situation is so fucked up you can’t even find it in you to stifle your laugh. 
“true.” he cocks an eyebrow at your answer. you should, in theory, vehemently deny this. just how shitty is this guy for you to not even put up a fight? 
“okay, i lied. now i really wanna know. who is he? yeonjun?” he asks. you giggle even more.
“no. yeonjun is sweet, but no. and i’m not telling you, so you should give up.” 
“you think yeonjun is sweet in comparison? damn, this guy must be fucking scum,” he laughs. you can’t help but shake your head with an airy laugh of your own. yeah, he’s so awful he even makes yeonjun look sweet. at least it seems like yeonjun has a conscience when he fucks somebody over. beomgyu, for the most part, has none.
“he’s not all bad,” you say softly, still smiling and resting your head on the headrest of your car. 
“but still bad,” he argues. 
“mhmm,” you hum. “still bad.”
-
beomgyu doesn’t mention hooking up again after that, and for that you are thankful, you think. is there a part of you that regrets not saying yes? in a way, you do. who wouldn’t want to be even closer to the one they love? but you know the closeness would be a lie. even if you were in closer proximity physically, he’d still be far away emotionally. too far to ever catch him. and so you sit at the counter of this shitty bar and watch him try to woo one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, and by the looks of it, it’s working. you smile bitterly and down another shot, making your stomach feel hotter and hotter. you know that by the end of the night, you’ll feel sick, but you’d rather be physically sick and drunk rather than emotionally sick and sober. 
“you okay?” kai asks, sliding into the seat next to yours and cutting into your daze with ease. 
“aren’t i always?” you answer with a wry smile.
“it’s that bad, huh?” he asks. beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but kai is the only person in the world who knows about your feelings for him. he also feels like the only person in the world who would understand them. 
“yeah, it is,” you mumble, downing yet another drink as you watch beomgyu grinding on the girl salaciously. 
“wanna get out of here?” he asks sympathetically. you should say no. beomgyu will be angry that you left  him, even if he’d ditch you in a heartbeat to get laid. but now, as you watch him shoving his tongue in the red-lipped mouth of the girl who will now be the impossible standard you’ll hold yourself to from hereon out, you can’t bring yourself to care.
“i do,” you smile, for real this time, and his grin matches yours.
you’re so drunk, you barely remember how you got home, but you’re here and so is hyuka. you don’t cry, even if he kind of wishes you would just so you could let it all out. you laugh, even, as he tells his dorky jokes and beats your ass in mario kart. things are going so well, you don’t even hear the pounding on your door until kai says something about it.
“i’ll get it,” he says soothingly when you unsteadily try to stand up.
“thanks, hyuka,” you smile. and that smile stays planted on your face until you see who’s at the door. beomgyu. and by the looks of it, he’s pissed.
“what the fuck is your problem?! how could you just leave me there alone?” he asks as soon as he’s let in. your face sinks and all prior happiness is washed away in an instant.
“you weren’t alone,” kai cuts in defensively. “she was alone until i came and got her.” beomgyu is actually a little embarrassed by this blatant callout, but he’d sooner die than admit it.
“well, she should’ve said something, at least,” he counters, face still hot and voice still as loud as ever.
“i thought you were going home with that girl,” you reply meekly. 
“and you couldn’t just ask?!” he snaps. 
“you’re being an asshole,” kai argues. “nobody wants to watch you tonguing down some random girl, and she’s not your babysitter.” the room is deathly quiet after this. beomgyu is fishing for words, but he’s too drunk to quite think of any at the moment. he wishes he were sober so he could put kai in his place, but the words never come. all he knows is he’s pissed beyond anything he can properly articulate and it’s driving him crazy. 
“you’re drunk,” kai adds sternly. “go home.” 
“hyuka, it's okay,” you say gently. “he's too drunk for that. he can crash on the couch.” beomgyu doesn't know why, but he scowls at the nickname.
“but —”
“it's okay,” you repeat. kai’s face looks torn. 
“alright, then i'll head out,” he relents after a few seconds. “the both of you just need some sleep,” he says with a sharp glance towards beomgyu, who is still fuming, by the way.
“thank you,” you say with a terse smile. he returns it with a smile of his own and shuts the door behind him. beomgyu watches the entire interaction and somehow feels even worse.
“what the fuck was that? is he the guy you’re hung up on or something?” 
“no!” you exclaim incredulously. “hyuka is a nice guy, and he’s just… helping me with some things right now.” you’re not the most eloquent person on a good day, much less while drunk, so that’s all you can really say at the moment.
“what ‘things’ could he possibly be helping you with?” he snaps before realization dawns on him. “you told him about that guy, didn’t you?! you can tell him but you can’t tell me?” 
“he… he just understands,” you say. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t just let this shit go and be done with it. he’s like a child finding out his dog likes somebody better than he likes him, and it’s exhausting.
“are you sleeping with him?” 
“what, no!”  you say firmly. 
“you are, aren’t you?” he sneers. “you won’t let me touch you, but you’re letting him?” 
“is it so hard to believe that a man just wants to be my friend without wanting to fuck me?” truthfully, yes. you’re good looking and his experience tells him that men always harbor those intentions. well, he does, at least. and for some reason, as he looks at you in your big t-shirt and sweatpants, those intentions are brewing even more. 
“beomgyu?” you ask tentatively. his eyes are so intense it seems like he’s even more pissed off,  somehow. your innocent look stokes the flames of what’s already been burning for you.
as if he’s possessed, he stalks his way over to you, grabs your face before you can even react, and plants a bruising kiss on your soft lips. you gasp when he meanly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and he can’t help but chuckle. the kiss is cruel for so many reasons, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock you off of your feet. you’re usually so restrained around him for reasons only you and kai know, but you feel your inhibitions melt as his tongue enters your mouth. he tastes like alcohol, but then, so do you, and he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, if his hungry kiss in any indication, he seems to love it. 
one of his hands travel under your big hoodie and he tweaks your already hardened nipple between his fingers. 
“does that feel good, baby?” he asks lowly, and you feel yourself becoming even more wet. you're too embarrassed to respond, but judging from his tone, he already knows your answer. 
his kisses are unrelenting and fierce, no gentleness or care to be seen, but you’re so sweet he can’t control himself. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he hit puberty, but you’ve never seemed interested in him for reasons he can’t understand. but now, you seem more than interested as you let him lead you to your bedroom. he lays you down on your bed and takes off your sweatpants. when he sees you, naked and glistening just from a few touches, he licks his lips in anticipation.
“all this from a few kisses?” he teases, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. you can do nothing but gasp in response as he pushes one of his long, calloused fingers into your heat.
“s-so tight, it’s sucking me in,” he moans. “i can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.” he adds a second finger and curls, hitting your sweet spot. all you can do is moan as he takes his thumb and rolls your clit. he watches your body rise and fall with the pleasure and it fascinates him like nothing he’s ever seen. your eyes are screwed shut, but he can’t help but prod and tease to see the different facial expressions you show him. before long, he’s pounding into you. the sound of squelches mixed with your moans only goads him further and further until you’re clenching down mercilessly on his fingers.
“aww, does that feel good, baby?” he coos. “wanna feel even better?” post-release clarity should hit you right about now, but you’re only more eager when he removes his clothes. his lengthy cock, angry and reddened, springs up and slaps his stomach. you whimper at the sight and he smirks at how needy you are.
he hovers over you and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to rub his stiffened length up and down your slit. 
“gyu, you need a condom —” you begin to protest.
“why? i’m clean. and i don’t fuck just anyone raw,” he argues as the head of his cock comes dangerously close to hooking on your entrance. you’ve never been able to say no to him for any meaningful amount of time, so relenting isn’t out of the ordinary for you. but more than that, his words, though unromantic, spark a bit of hope in your heart. you’re special, you think. 
“do you trust me?” he asks. 
no. not at all.
“of course.” and he pushes in. his arrogance falters as you take him in, inch by throbbing inch. it’s a tight fit, and the way you clench around the tip of his cock only drives him further and further into madness. how can you feel so good? how can this feel so perfect? 
your poor pussy is equal parts trying to suck him in and trying to resist so the intrusion is forced out. to him, it feels like heaven. 
“t-tight!” he hisses. “relax, baby, or you’re gonna break me.” for some reason, his words comfort you, allowing him smooth entry until he’s completely sheathed in you. you both moan when he completely bottoms out, balls hitting your ass in the most lewd way. his precum mixed with the result of your release seep into the bedsheets. he stays there for just a moment, pushing your hair out of your face, and his next words are uncommonly tender.
“you look so pretty like this,” he muses, and you don’t even have time to blush before he’s unsteadily pulling out, pussy pulling him back in like it never wants him to leave, then thrusting back in again. 
“oh m-my god,” he says as he begins to ram into you. “so good, baby. you’re taking me so well.” 
“b-big!” is all you can manage to say as he continues to fuck you open.
“oh baby, are you going dumb on my cock? can’t even manage to get the words out, can you? it’s okay, don’t think. i’ll take care. of. you,” he says, punctuating each word with his mean thrusts. 
you’re crying now, the pleasure too great to stifle your tears. beomgyu thinks you look absolutely lovely like this, lovelier than anyone he’s ever seen, especially when he looks at where you two are joined and watches himself enter and exit your puffy pussy. each gasp, each breathy whine you emit makes him feel crazier and crazier. he aches so much, he has no choice but to continue pounding into you until he's relieved. so he does. he’s gripping the plush of your thighs like he might die if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. 
he leans over to give you a nasty kiss, all tongue and teeth. when he parts from you, a lewd string of saliva falls from your mouths and he can’t control the chuckle that escapes him when he sees your pupils are blown out as you flounder for his lips again. 
“look, baby. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you look down and see how his cock protrudes from your tummy as he rams in and out of you. “nobody else has fucked you right, but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to fix that.” your pussy involuntarily clenches at his filthy words and it’s enough to make you come.
“c-coming!” you manage to choke out as you spasm around him, back arching deliciously. he follows soon after, thrusts becoming uneven before you feel his cum shooting inside of you.
-
fucking beomgyu comes naturally, and often. he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. hooking up becomes almost a daily affair, but you’re so hungry for him you can’t bring yourself to protest. you fuck in his car, on his couch, over the fucking kitchen counter, even. all plans to go out with anyone else are immediately dashed in favor of being with him, instead. you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and even if you know, know, know it’s fruitless, you can’t help but relent when he looks at you like a man starved. 
“this can’t be good for you,” kai tells you one evening in the comfort of your apartment. it’s a rare occurrence to have a free night from beomgyu’s clutches. kai hasn’t seen you in weeks because you’ve been too “busy” with beomgyu. 
“well, i know,” you sigh, too tired to argue with him. 
“if you know, then why do you do it?” he asks tentatively. you can’t help but give him a look. 
“you know why,” you say. 
“he's just messing with your head. you know this can't end well.” you flinch at the word “end”. you know it, he knows it, beomgyu surely fucking knows it, but you can’t help but give in every time. “what are you gonna do when he inevitably fucks you over? and he will, just like always.”
“i… i’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you protest. he sees your defeated expression and lightly tilts your head so it’s resting on his shoulder. your retribution for your actions was always well on its way, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. 
you hear a key turning in the door. there’s only one person in the world you’ve given a spare to, so you aren’t surprised in the slightest when beomgyu walks in with that signature smirk on his face. he scowls a bit when he’s greeted with the scene of you and kai sitting so intimately.
“am i interrupting something?” he scoffs as you raise your head from kai’s shoulder.
“no,” kai replies before you can even fix your lips to respond. to your mild surprise, he doesn't push any further.
“whatever,” he shrugs, plopping down next to the two of you and pulling out his phone.
“wanna see this girl whose number i got today?” he asks casually, swiping through his phone eagerly. so that's why he didn't wanna meet up. your heart feels like a hole’s been blown straight through it. you and kai share a deep look, which beomgyu completely misses as he pulls up a picture of a beautiful looking girl. 
“this is her,” he says with a triumphant smirk. you don’t — can’t — respond. you just have a blank look on your face.
“what?” he asks petulantly. “she’s really pretty, look!” he insists, pulling up another picture. “she’s one of the hottest girls i’ve seen in a minute.”
any last shred of hope or dignity you have is strangled in its crib at his careless words. your eyes are hot and your stomach hurts so much you feel like you’re going to vomit. kai notices your discomfort and decides to put a stop to this once and for all.
“alright, that’s enough,” kai snaps. “nobody wants to see that shit.”
“what’s your fucking problem?” beomgyu retorts.
“my problem is that you’re a fucking moron. grow up.” beomgyu’s not one to get physical, at least not in a violent sense, but he’s on the precipice of breaking that streak at kai’s harsh words.
“stop, hyuka. it’s okay,” you say softly. beomgyu is so furious, he almost forgot you’re here, but he's genuinely confused by kai’s words.
“what's okay? what is it that you're not telling me?” beomgyu asks. 
“it's not okay, actually. he’s fucking you but he comes around and pulls this shit right in front of you?! she won’t say it, but i will.” 
“kai, don’t —” 
“she doesn’t care! no strings attached, that’s always been the deal.”
“you may be stupid as fuck, but surely you’re not that stupid,” kai sneers. “so if you say you don’t already know, you’re just a fucking liar.” beomgyu pauses at this. is he saying what he thinks he’s saying? surely you didn’t catch feelings, right? but one look at your face, and he knows kai is telling the truth. 
but why? and when?
“since when did you…”
“since always,” you say quietly. 
“oh, fuck. look, i —”
“it’s okay. i already know,” you cut in. and you do already know, but you can’t bear to hear him say it. beomgyu, in all his glory, processes this and instead of regret, all he feels is anger.
“i’m the piece of shit guy you can’t get over? are you fucking serious?”
“hyuka, you should go,” you say instead of letting him watch the melodrama unfolding before him. kai looks uncertainly between the both of you before relenting. 
“call me later, okay?” he says, wiping tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.
“okay,” you reply with a sad smile. he sends beomgyu one last scathing look before gathering his shit and slamming the door behind him. 
“you tricked me!” beomgyu exclaims as soon as the door shuts. “i would’ve never fucked you if i knew you’d be like this.” just like everyone else. he doesn’t need to voice the last part, but you already know he wants to say it, which just hurts you even more.
“did you really not know, or were you just pretending not to know ‘cause it’d be inconvenient for you?” that shuts him up. kai was right, he’d be stupid not to know. maybe not at first, but surely along the way. surely when you’d look at him so longingly after sleeping with him, or the way you’d look so sad when he didn't stay after sex.
“listen, i’m so sorry that you’re scared, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. i really am. but are you so selfish that you really think nobody else is afraid to have their heart broken? and do you think that means you’re allowed to hurt everyone else instead?” you ask quietly. every new word pierces his heart like nothing he's ever felt before. he wants to say something, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything quite fitting. 
“i think you should leave,” you say after what feels like an eternity of silence. he looks at you with watery eyes and you almost feel guilty, but you’re through with feeling things for him that he’d never have the courtesy to feel for you. “go,” you repeat defeatedly, striding to the door and holding it open for him and he feels more and more like a rat you want to chase out of your home.
he looks like he wants to say something, but one look at you tells him you’re done listening. with heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he heads through the doorway, pausing only before he’s about to cross the threshold. he has a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this is probably the last time he’ll be here. 
“are we still friends after this?” he asks lowly, eyes wide and more desperate than you’ve ever seen them. 
“no,” you say simply, and shut the door.
notes: not a ton of smut in this part, but i think the next part will have more i fear.
taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast
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arieslost · 2 days
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ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with
anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔
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1:30 am | ln4
you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.
“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”
“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.
something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.
now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.
which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.
“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.
“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.
“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”
“yeah, if you want me to.”
“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.
you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”
“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”
“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.
“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”
he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”
“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”
“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.
“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.
“stop laughing then!”
“you stop!”
naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.
“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.
“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”
“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.
a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.
“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”
“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.
“ooh, lemme feel.”
“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”
“not my fault you’re weird and british.”
“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”
“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”
he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”
you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”
you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.
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word count: 790
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note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…
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delulujuls · 1 day
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young, dumb & bwoke | ln4
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hi! as u can see i couldn't stop myself from writing about last saturday events in amsterdam with mr norris as main star (he was more popular than the king himself lmao). lando is literally what i always bring to the function and yup, enjoy him being the chaotic drunk bestie while max and y/n are his literal party parents. its nothing crazy and without plot basically, i just added sum to this years' koningsdag so yeah, enjoy!
summary: there is nothing that lando loves more than a good party and his beloved dutch friends so imagine him with drink in his cup surrounded by whole orange nation. it could be nuts and it was
warnings: TONS of alcohol, lando being drunk (and hurted), mentions of blood, basically sum chaos
pairing: fem!dutch!bff!reader x lando norris (ft. max verstappen)
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Lando couldn't wait for the plane he was on to break through the heavy cloud cover and land in Amsterdam.
China and Miami, which were the next rounds on the calendar, were separated by two weeks that were nothing else, in Lando's case, than a time of stagnation. Add to this the fact that Lando had bad memories of his performance in China and, what's worse, the sprint he failed so badly and which constantly played in his head like a jammed record, one could go crazy. That's why the Brit was extremely happy when he received an invitation to spend the weekend in the capital of the Netherlands. He was invited to Amsterdam to celebrate King Willem's birthday by none other than his favorite flying Dutch.
The friendship of Y/N, Max and Lando began in 2019, practically from the very moment he entered Formula 1. The kid, who was barely 20 years old but looked like 12, immediately won over the Dutch couple with his smile and sense of humor, who, due to their sometimes severe temperament, could not boast of having many friends in the paddock. Even though the three friends were only two years apart, Max and Y/N naturally became Lando's racing parents, with whom the Brit spent practically every moment, from time in the paddock, through celebrating on the podium, to time away from competitions. So it was no surprise when they invited him to spend the weekend together, to which he, of course, eagerly agreed.
When the plane landed, Lando pulled the hood of his orange sweatshirt over his head and slung his backpack over his shoulder, in which he packed everything he might need for the coming days. As you could guess, there wasn't much of it, he actually had everything he needed on him and the most important part was an oversized orange sweatshirt. Waiting for him at the airport was Y/N, who couldn't wait to see him. She didn't have to wait too long, because a moment later he walked out in front of the terminal. Y/N smiled as she saw her friend walking towards her and she hugged him tightly.
"You knew I was coming, you could have asked the king for better weather," Lando joked, trying to sound serious, which only made the girl giggle.
"If you think that the weather will have any influence on what will happen in the evening, then unfortunately I will have to disappoint you," she replied, getting into the car. "It's already starting to get crowded in downtown, and it's not even noon."
Lando threw his backpack into the backseat and got into the passenger side. He smiled like a child, looking forward to how the weekend would unfold. It looked like he would spend a nice few days, able to finally de-stress and relax, and in the company of friends. But speaking of friends, one of them was missing.
"And where's Max?" he asked as they left the airport and were on their way to the girl's apartment. "I thought he had been waiting for me with the welcome committee since yesterday."
"He's already in town, I dropped him off while I was on my way to pick you up."
"He's fast," Lando laughed and shook his head, "I hope he's still on his feet when we get to him."
At that moment, Lando didn't think about the fact that no one else but himself would be able to stay on his feet. When the Brit set off for Amsterdam, he obviously expected to spend two days drunk, with legs sore from dancing and a sore throat from singing, but he forgot that he has absolutely no immunity to alcohol.
When the three friends were finally together, alcohol quickly appeared in their hands. Y/N and Max started with beer, but Lando had no intention of wasting his time drinking something that would only cause pressure on his bladder. As soon as he boarded one of the barges floating on the Herenbracht Canal, he drank several shots at once. Y/N and Max just exchanged glances as he drank the drink standing on Garrix's console in one gulp, who didn't care one bit about it, being already in a good mood himself.
"I'm a little worried about how this might end," Max said in her ear as she took a sip of her cider, watching Lando jump happily.
"Even if he's drunk, so what," she replied, handing him her bottle and taking away the body paints in circulation, "He didn't come here to be bored."
Max was about to say something, but she pushed his hand slightly, bringing the bottle he was holding to his lips. Max shook his head and took a few sips from it, while the girl started painting flags on his cheeks. When she finished, she waved them up, attracting Lando's attention, who understood what she meant and nodded eagerly. The girl squeezed through the console and stood next to him, leaning him against the barge rails, because Lando had trouble not bobbing to the music for a moment.
The smile that never left his face wrinkled his cheeks, on which she tried to paint Dutch flags. When she finished and turned to pass the paints, Lando took off her sunglasses and put them on himself.
"Have a drink with me!" Lando shouted, holding out his empty cup to her, and she raised her cider bottle in response. He rolled his eyes in dissatisfaction when suddenly a bottle of vodka appeared in the crowd and someone handed it straight to his hands. Without much thought, Lando unscrewed the cap and took a few sips as if the contents were water, which of course met with the crowd's approval.
Y/N took the bottle from his hands, fearing not the amount Lando drank, but the relatively short time it took him to do so. However, not wanting to seem boring, she tilted the bottle herself, letting the liquid burn her throat. Delighted, Lando clapped his hands and hugged his friend, causing some of the alcohol to flow down her chin. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist as well, and raised her hand in a toast, which was joined by everyone who had something to drink.
Max also raised his beer bottle a bit. However, somewhere in the background of his mind there was an image of Lando and what he would look like in the near future. However, the Brit himself did not care at all about this. As long as he was in the company of his friends, his plastic cup was full and he could jump to the music and sing along, he was happy. Even the fact that his face was in the wrong place at the wrong time, when someone, completely by accident, punched him in the face, didn't disturb it.
Y/N, who also decided to pick up the pace after drinking her cider, immediately sobered up when she saw blood on her friend's face. She quickly pressed a tissue to his nose, but he tried to assure her that he was fine. His brain didn't encode the impact or the pain, didn't acknowledge that he was bleeding, even when he ran his tongue over his lips and tasted blood on them. People in the crowd started calling out to each other to see if anyone had a first aid kit. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bandage appeared, and just as Y/N, being drunk, thought it would be a great idea to wrap Lando's face in a bandage, Max started asking people if they somehow had band aids. He couldn't let that dumbass parade around like that for the rest of the evening.
“I've sobered up a bit, I can keep drinking,” he said as Y/N finished clumsily bandaging his face, “I probably look worse that i did when i crashed in Vegas.”
Her friend tried to be serious, but it was impossible to stay serious around Lando. "You have to be careful, Lan," she said, trying to retain some sanity and touching his cheek, looking into his eyes, "I hope it's not broken."
"Bwoken," he repeated in silly voice, giggling "Oh no, it couldn't be bwoken"
"Honestly, i also hope it is not," Max interjected when he managed to rejoin his friends after some time, "Getting to the hospital now would be a near miracle."
"Hey, I'm fine," he said as Max waved the Band-Aids in his face and began to remove the clumsy bandage into which their friend had probably poured her whole heart and a few drinks that she drank earlier.
"I'm glad you don't feel anything, but that doesn't change the fact that I won't look at it," he replied, lifting his chin and examining his nose from every angle. Luckily this one seemed fine.
Once Max had placed two tiny patches on him, Y/N handed him his mug with a fresh drink again. "Brave patient," she smiled at him.
"In a state like this, I'd be surprised if he felt something," Max admitted, taking a bottle of vodka standing nearby. He decided that since Lando had had an accident, nothing worse awaited them and he could allow himself to loosen a bit more. He took a few sips and handed the bottle to the younger one, who smiled, tightening his hand around it. He looked at his friends standing in front of him, slightly drunk but still fully focused on him. He knew he was important to them and that he is not alone in all this madness.
"I love you guys," he said, with a bottle in his hand, pushing himself off the railing and hugging them, "You are the best in the world, simply the best."
The rest of the day and later in the evening took place in a great atmosphere and the party lasted until 3. in the morning. For the rest of Amsterdam it probably lasted longer, but for Lando it began to end after two o'clock, when he was barely able to stand. Partly from being drunk, partly from being tired. He didn't stand still during a single song, so the next day, apart from his face, his legs will certainly be visible. Taking a break for something warm to eat, Max, Y/N, and Lando sat down at one of the wooden tables. While waiting for their orders, Lando rested his head on Y/N's shoulder and closed his eyes. It was obvious that he just needed something to lean on to fall asleep.
"I think it's time for us to go," the girl announced, directing her words to Max. "The baby is only fit for bed now."
"He's been in great shape for a long time anyway, judging by how much he was on his feet today," Max concluded, glancing first at him and then at the girl, "But you're holding up pretty well, aren't you?"
"Yes, I do," she nodded and hugged Lando, who began to slide off her shoulder, "But I'm also getting sleepy."
"Me too," Max rubbed his face with his hands, "At least we can be sure that no one will wake us up first thing in the morning to explore the city."
He said, glancing at Lando, who was dozing with his mouth open on his friend's shoulder. After eating casseroles and fries, which were for Lando and which he was unable to eat, the three of them went to the girl's apartment. Of course, only she and Max were walking on their own, Lando was between them, leaning on their arms. He was muttering something incomprehensible under his breath, so it was obvious that he was alive and everything was fine, besides the fact that he was completely drunk.
When they arrived at the address and crossed the threshold of the apartment, they immediately went to put him in the bedroom, not wasting time in unfolding the couch for him. Max was in the process of stripping him of his shoes, pants, bloody sweatshirt, and all the necklaces and ribbons he had collected the previous day, while Y/N placed a large bottle of water, painkillers, and a bucket by his bed, as if the contents of his stomach had suddenly decided that they wants to get outside. However, there was no indication that Lando was going to have a restless night, because he started snoring softly as soon as his cheek touched the pillow. Max covered him with the blanket and took a few steps away from the bed, standing next to his friend who was looking at the sleeping boy.
"Can you hear that?" Max whispered, glancing at her, and she frowned questioningly, "It's silence, listen to it, because when he gets up, the only thing you can hear will be his lamentations about how hungover he is."
The girl snorted quietly and shook her head, taking Lando's clothes to the laundry.
"The most important thing is that he had a good time. And a little hangover never killed nobody."
The next day, however, did not bring anything unexpected. When Lando woke up, the first thing that hit him was a terrible headache that got worse when he sat down and tried to get out of bed. When he stood in the doorway of the bedroom, Y/N and Max's eyes immediately went towards him and Lando could swear that they looked like they spent the entire last evening on the couch.
"Hi honey, did you sleep well?" Max asked playfully, in the perfect mood for jokes since he himself was fine after last night.
Lando just blinked several times and wanted to wipe his face with his hands and collect some words to answer, but when he touched his cut nose, he cursed loudly.
"What the fuck?"
"A souvenir from yesterday," the girl answered him, getting up from the couch and taking out a frozen package from the fridge, which she handed to him, "I recommend a shower and I'll make you some coffee."
He closed his eyes and put the package to his nose, sighing and grabbing the bathroom door handle. Before he disappeared, Max just shouted after him.
"And don't puke in the shower!"
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cepheustarot · 3 days
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What awaits you in May?
Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.
✧ Masterlist ✧ Paid readings
Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.
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Pile 1: At the beginning of the month, you may have an unforeseen situation, force majeure, which will change your plans, which were supposed to be implemented in may but because of this situation the implementation will either be postponed or you will change your decision and do it differently. As I see it, for the most part you planned these plans together with other people, your family or friends but someone could change their mind at the last moment and refuse to participate or a strong quarrel may arise with someone. Naturally, you will be nervous because of unforeseen circumstances, thoughts may arise "why not give it all up, give up this idea" but as the cards show, it is better not to abandon the implementation here but to look for an alternative, since in the end everything will turn out much better than you imagined! 
Also, this month the chance to change jobs or occupation / try a new hobby will be quite high as you will receive a good offer from a company or employer with good working conditions and a good salary/ rate per hour. However, your current employers may stop you, because they are afraid of losing you, you are a valuable employee for them and this can create small problems when you are fired. Also, if you are in business, your sales will increase significantly this month, you can make profitable deals with someone, invest profitably in some business.  If you are studying, then you will also succeed this month but it is important to make an effort here since you may have strict teachers who are very picky about the answers or you can write tests where one mistake can lead to the loss of many points, so be careful! 
Also this month, there is a high chance to meet a new person who will later become a good friend for you or, if you are looking for a relationship, will become a good partner. As I see it, you will spend a lot of time with each other, you will get to know each other, create joint memories, in general, you will be very comfortable and good next to this person. If you are already in a relationship, then this month is a good opportunity to strengthen your bond or resolve problems between you, establish a relationship and get closer, spend time together. You can also spend a lot of time with your family this month, in particular with your siblings.
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Pile 2: At the beginning of the month, your problem which lasted for a long time will be able to be solved, you will finally be able to find a way out of the situation and thanks to this you will feel so relieved, weight has finally fallen off your shoulders, you will have a slight feeling of freedom, you can feel so confident as if you won the most difficult competition and took the prize! It can be anything, getting rid of debts, solving psychological problems, solving financial problems, overcoming a crisis, resolving a conflict with people — in general, something that has been burdening you for a long time. You may also have felt depressed and tired lately, felt like your mood was sad most of the time, it might be difficult for you to enjoy some little things and your condition will improve significantly this month. Here, in general, the rough patch will end, luck and happiness will accompany you in your life! 
I also see that this month you will have the opportunity to change something in your life that will help you feel better, here the emphasis is that you would like to get rid of the past, of the memories that burden you: you can change your appearance, your style,change of scenery and go somewhere for a while or move altogether, change your social circle, hobbies, change your job / occupation, change the interior of the apartment, you can add decor, you can discover new places in the city, find new people, you can also change inside yourself, change your views — anything can happen here that can improve your mood and well-being. 
This month you will also make new plans, goals and work on their implementation, here I see that you will definitely succeed since this will be something very important to you, you will be burning with the idea and strive to achieve what you would like, probably this motivation came to you after improving your well-being and it's very cool! Here you can study something a lot, try to figure out a topic, consult with others, improve your skills, even if you start something new, you will be accompanied by success and luck!
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Pile 3: This month you may feel tired from the oversaturation of events in your life, from an overabundance of emotions, from being with people often, and here I see you can feel how your social battery has "run out". You will distance yourself from people for a while, spend time alone or with only a small number of people but in any case you focus on yourself and taking care of yourself. You can take a vacation at work or take a break, spend time doing things that bring you pleasure that calm you down and do not strain you, you will pamper yourself here and do what you want. You can also get tired of the hustle and hustle and go to some quiet place for you, often visit your favorite places and “places of power" that fill you internally. 
And although I said that you will spend most of your time alone with yourself, I also do not exclude that you will want to meet with your inner circle, your loved ones may also meet  and offer to go on a trip to small towns, you can spend time outside the city but away from the hustle and bustle. And if you agree then this trip will also be able to fill you with internal resources, improve your well-being, you will feel how your fatigue gradually passes and your head is free of obsessive thoughts. 
At the end of the month, a situation will occur that will take you out of your inner balance: it will be unexpected, you will be required to quickly resolve the situation or do something in the shortest possible time, make a choice and naturally this can infuriate you. This may be related to work, for example, your boss will require you to do something urgently, make changes to the work, it may also be related to the family, there will be a heated dispute between family members and you will have to take someone's side, since it is difficult to remain indifferent in this case. In any case, it won't last long, you will get a grip and quickly resolve the problems that have overtaken you so you shouldn't worry too much about it.
Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤
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oral fixation - m.s.
summary: matts girlfriend loves to have things in her mouth. when she gets home after a day of minor inconveniences, she seeks comfort from her boyfriend, in a rather, unconventional way.
warnings: oral (male receiving), praising, pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc.), soft!dom matt, sub!fem, talk of anxiety,
a/n: couple of things; one, the girl doesn't have a name so you can imagine whomever you'd like, two, i've started planning my Matt series...anyways, hope you guys like it! :)))
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"A touch / From your real love / Is like heaven takin' the place of somethin' evil"
⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜
For my entire life, I’ve loved having things in my mouth. 
When I was younger, it was impossible for my parents to get my thumb or my pacifier out of my mouth. The comfort that came from having the object resting in my mouth was too intense for me to leave behind. Behaviors like that followed me into childhood with things like gum or lollipops. In high school, I chewed copious amounts of gum, always had a pen or pencil in my mouth and played with my lips all the time. 
Naturally, when I managed to find myself a boyfriend, he became aware of my oral fixation in many ways. He would always notice how often I had things in my mouth or if I was biting my lips, he would offer me something else so I didn’t tear up the delicate skin. It got to a point where, if he and I were laying down together and one of his hands was unoccupied, I would simply reach down and grab his hand, bringing it to my mouth and wrapping my lips around one of his fingers and playing with it in my mouth. Of course Matt enjoyed this himself, but there were other ...situations, where this oral fixation benefitted him much more than putting a finger in my mouth. 
Matt also understood why I do what I do. Him and I both struggle with anxiety, and we both have for years. In high school, I was medicated for it and had a hard time getting through the day. However, I hated the way that the meds made me feel and I swore to my parents that I wasn’t going to take them anymore and that I’d find another way to cope. Matt copes with alone time and silence but I get more overstimulated than he does and when I do, all I want is to have something in my mouth and someone to touch. 
Which is why on days like these, anxiety ridden and insane days, I need my boyfriend and one of his extremities to rest between my lips. 
After several cars cutting me off on the road and almost hitting me on the way to the gym this morning, I was already slightly shaken up and worried for my safety. When I got to the gym, there was a man somewhat following me around, conveniently using all of the machines next to me. After that, I went to the grocery store in hopes that they had some grapes and snacks for me to feel better, they were out of seedless grapes which sent me into a frenzy about the way that the seeds feel in my mouth, and the self-checkout lanes were under renovation and I had to talk to the cashier to check out. 
I took shallow and quick breaths as I walked swiftly out to my car. I tossed the bag into the back seat and swung open the driver door. The second that I was enclosed in my car, in my space, I was able to calm myself down. Once I had myself under control, I started the car and drove home. When I arrived, I grabbed my things from the car and headed inside. I used my house key to unlock the front door, using my foot to close it behind me. I tossed my keys in the dish and heard Matt typing on the couch. 
“Hi baby,” He said without looking up. I didn’t respond because I just wanted to put the groceries I picked up away and sit with him. “Alright,” He said and continued typing away. 
I put the cold stuff in the refrigerator and the dry stuff in the pantry and cabinets before heading to his room to slide out my dirty and uncomfortable gym clothes and into one of his shirts. Once I was comfortable and the smell of his cologne filled my nostrils, I was finally ready to lay down next to him on the couch. 
“Sorry,” I murmured quietly, gently taking a seat next to him and pulling a blanket over my legs, curling into his side and latching onto one of his arms, “I just wanted to put those away so that I could sit with you.” 
I sat there looking for something of his to grab onto but his hands were occupied and I don’t think he’d appreciate it if I put anything else, if you know what I mean, in my mouth at the moment. I sighed quietly to myself and began to bite on my lips. 
“You don’t have to apologize,” He said, leaning over to kiss the top of my head. 
I continued my assault on my lips and I felt the skin tear and the metallic taste of my own blood rested on my tongue. When it started to hurt too bad to bite my lips, one of my hands found my mouth and I started to bite and suck on that instead, the other arm wrapping impossibly tighter around his. His elbow nudged my side and he looked over at me. 
“You doin’ okay?” He asked without looking away from his computer where he was replying to emails and taking notes in a Google Doc. I only hummed, unwilling to take my fingers out of my mouth. My lack of a real response, which I know he hated, made him finally look up at me. My eyes blinked guiltily at him when his brows went from furrowed to concerned, “Sweetheart,” He sighed and reached up to pull my hand away from my mouth. I flexed all of my muscles to keep it in my mouth but he tilted his head at me and pulled harder, his strength easily overpowering mine. 
“I’m sorry,” I sighed, relaxing my muscles and looking down my hands with guilt and embarrassment written all over my face. 
“Hey,” He said softly, reaching out to grab my jaw and gently pull my head up to look at him, “You don’t have to say sorry. There’s nothing to apologize for.” He shook his head and looked into my eyes for an explanation, “D’you have a bad day?” He asked and closed his computer screen ¾ of the way down. 
“Kind of,” I said, questioning in my tone, “I don’t even know. It’s just been, like, too much.” I tried to spit it out but I struggled to pin-point how, exactly, I felt. It was just too much.
“That’s okay, baby,” He cooed, “You want my hand?” My eyes widened in excitement and I nodded before correcting myself with a ‘Yes, please’. 
He brought his left forearm up to my mouth and I played with his long fingers trying to pick which one I wanted. I decided on the pointer first, but planned to use every finger but the pinky. He used his other hand to scroll through emails and business inquiries, also scrolling through pinterest to find inspiration for future videos. 
I, on the other hand, swirled my tongue mindlessly around his fingers, taking them all the way into my mouth and then back out, my saliva coating his fingers down the knuckle. Every so often, he would shift his hips slightly or clear his throat and scratch his neck. I knew how this was affecting him, but he also respected my needs more than his and wouldn’t want to make me uncomfortable. After close to twenty minutes had passed of my sucking on his fingers, he looked at the time on his computer and closed it all the way. He leaned back against the couch, his hand still in my mouth and he turned his head as it laid against the top of the couch and he watched me mindlessly play with his fingers. When I fully pulled off his middle finger alone, I pushed his ring finger to meet it and took them both fully into my mouth. He groaned and I snapped my eyes to meet him and worked my mouth around his fingers. 
“God, don’t fuckin’ look at me like that when you’ve got my fingers down your throat, honey,” He instructed gently, understanding of my rather fragile nature. I pulled off his fingers, letting my tongue teasingly drag across the length of them. 
“Sorry,” I swallowed to clear my throat and scooted closer to him. He reached across himself and wrapped his dry hand around my thigh and under my knee to pull me onto his lap. I squealed at the sudden movement but settled and nuzzled into his lap. 
“How many times are you gonna apologize, hm?” He questioned with a smile, tucking my hair behind my ears. 
“You know how I am, Matt,” I laughed and grabbed his wrists and put them on top of my thighs, encouraging him to tickle them. 
“Yeah, I do,” He smiled, “But that means that I know you’re gonna keep saying sorry until you feel better.” He accused me and I smiled like I’d been caught stealing, “What else do you need, baby?”
I blushed and looked down at my hands, “I don’t wanna-,”
“Oh, you’re gonna.” He said sternly. 
“I want you.”
“You have me.” He said and nudged my chin with his knuckle, “What do you need?”
“Need your cock,” I said quietly. 
“What was that?” He turned his ear toward me. 
“I need your cock, Matthew.” I said louder. 
“There she is.” He said and gently moved my thighs to allow me to sink to my knees in front of him. “See? Wasn’t that hard, no?” 
When I was comfortable at his feet, I worked to remove his belt and unbuckle his pants. He did the work of actually pushing them down. His hard cock sprung out of his pants and he hissed as the cool air penetrated the sensitive and tacky skin. His tip was lathered in a small amount of pre-cum and he pulsed and twitched slightly. I pouted at the sight for two reasons; one being that it made me want him in my mouth even more, and two, I felt bad for the state I’d put him in. 
“Matty,” I whined, tracing circles with the fingernails on his knees, “I didn’t know it was this bad. I’m sorry.” 
“If you say sorry one more time, all you’re getting is my fingers,” He tutted. My eyes widened in fear. 
“Okay, I’ll stop.” I promised and he smiled down at me. 
“Good girl.” 
I got to quick work pumping his cock in my hand to get him ready. His cock looked so big compared to my smaller hand. It didn’t even fit around the entire thing. He groaned and hissed at the stimulation, his breathing getting heavier and slightly more labored. Soon, I leaned down and gently licked the tip before wrapping my lips around the tip. Pleasure and comfort washed over me and I continued to sink my head down onto his dick. His hands gathered my hair in a make-shift ponytail on my head and he held my hair out of my face. He didn’t push my head down, he just simply aided me in my quest for comfort, which I was most definitely finding. 
“There you go baby,” He praised, “So fuckin’ good,” He whispered, more to himself than anyone else. 
I took his cock down my throat slowly, suppressing the slight gag reflex I still have, though it’s not too bad. I whined around his dick with comfort and need. 
“What baby?” He asked breathlessly, pulling me off him, “Why’re you whinin’? You got what you wanted, no?” 
“No!,” I protested, pushing his hands away, “I’m fine! I just love having you, s’all.” I explained with a smile before going back down on him. As I continued to work his cock, my body visibly relaxed and the sighs of content that left my mouth. Matt simply closed his eyes above me, opening them periodically to watch me take him down my throat. 
Matt started to get close, his hips becoming restless under me and his hands that were in my hair started to guide me down his cock faster. He moaned and whimpered as he grew closer and closer to the edge. 
“Oh fuck-,” He whimpered, “God, so good, baby. So close.”
His stutters and whimpers encouraged me to work with him faster, yet take my time on all of his sensitive bits. I relied on the relief that accompanied the weight of his cock on my tongue. I worked him until hips stuttered and bucked off the couch and he moaned my name and praises into the air.  
“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum.” He whispered, bucking his hips into my throat making me choke slightly but I didn’t care, “M Sorry. Fuck,” He whispered and then e shot his load down my throat. I felt the warm liquid hit the back of my throat and I swallowed it down. “Show me,” He demanded, once he caught his breath and he pulled me off him all the way. I stuck my tongue out to show him that I swallowed it and he smiled at me in response, lightly tapping my cheek with the hand that held my jaw. 
“Thank you,” I sighed, my throat somewhat sore. 
“No, thank you, my beautiful girl.” He leaned down and kissed me gently, rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs. When I pulled away, I bit the inside of my lip and looked into his eyes, silently yearning for more. His brows pinched together and his mouth opened slightly, “What, baby? Not enough?” I looked at him with a guilty smile and shook my head. 
“I just want more,” I said quietly. He opened his mouth to respond but as soon as he did, his laptop and phone dinged several times, he looked at his phone and saw what it was. 
“Look, sweetheart, I’ve got more work shit to do,” I groaned and sat back on my heels below him but he pressed a finger to my lips, “But, if you’d let me finish you impatient little baby,” he teased, “if you’re good and hold me without moving your tongue at all, you can stay where you are.” 
“Yes please. I promise I’ll be good,” I nodded my head and sat back up right. He nodded at me and grabbed everything he needed to continue working and I took him back into my mouth. I zoned out with him in my mouth but it was still exciting to be getting what I’d been craving all day and my tongue jerked against a few times. 
“Ah, ah,” He asked, “Settle, sweetheart. You promised me.” He directed and when I calmed down around his cock, his hand patted my head softly and he went back to typing away. 
//
a/n: i'd been working on this for about a week or so. hope you guys liked it!!
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SMUT WARNING // MDNI ⚠️ scientist!Chan (Chris) x test subject fem!reader
Scientist Christopher is doing experiments on making pussies come. He has a range of devices (vibrating devices) that he uses on his subject each night, and you’re his favourite subject.
Approx 5 minute read
Unhinged level 🤡🤡🤡
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CW: master/sub type role, sex experiments, sex toys, praise, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, cream pie.
Every night he sets you up on the bed that’s situated in his office and gets you to spread really wide, sometimes putting your legs in stirrups. It always starts with a “hole inspection” before moving onto the “stimulation phase”.
Sometimes he uses a small and intense vibrating device on your clitoris, with no other stimulation, and he doesn’t take it away after you come.
Sometimes his goal is to make you come as fast as possible.
Other times he sees how long he can edge you, using a variety of devices. He watches intensely, taking notes on how the stimulation affects you. It usually reduces you to a whimpering, begging, mess.
And sometimes he wants to see how many orgasms he can get out of you. The record is eleven.
But tonight when you arrive he wants to try something completely different. Instead of having you lay on the bed, he gets you to sit on his desk, legs spread wide for him.
You notice he looks unusually disheveled and flustered tonight, as he lowers his chair so his face is at a better level to view your pussy.
“As usual let’s start by seeing how wet you are. Prop your feet up on the desk.” He taps the top of the desk. You comply. You’re so exposed, as usual. And you’re wet, as usual.
“Fuck!” Chris whispers as he spreads your pussy lips apart and runs the pad of his thumb against your opening and dragging it up to your clit.
You moan and lean back on your elbows. “Fuck, Sir… feels good.” You whimper.
Chris looks up and meets your gaze and you can’t help but beg with your eyes for him to make you come.
“You know,” he says quietly and licks his lips as his eyes go back to your dripping pussy. “There’s still something we need to check that we haven’t checked before. Do you know what that could be?”
“N-no… I don’t, Sir.” You stammer.
Chris slides two fingers inside your cunt and starts to dig against your gspot. You cry out at the sensation. It immediately brings you so close to climaxing.
“We need to see if this pussy can take cock.” He said matter of factly, removing his fingers and leaving you feeling empty. Empty and fucking desperate.
“I need to see if it can be done? Can we try?” He asks. He always asks when introducing a new stimulus.
You nod profusely. “Yes sir… please… see if it can take cock.”
Chris stands up in front of you and unbuckles his belt. You have never seen his dick, but you’ve seen the bulge in his trousers countless times before when he’s worked his experiments on you.
Your eyes widen when you see it. Thick. Long. Full. Veiny. How the fuck was it ever going to fit?
“We need to go slowly to ensure you stretch properly. Just relax for me. Can you do that for me?” He says gently stroking your inner thigh with one hand and the other pumping his cock.
“Mmm-hmm. I’ll try..” You say.
“Good girl.” He replies lining the head of his cock up to your cunt. He doesn’t penetrate you. He knows how your body responds to sexual touch. He knows it won’t take long to prep you enough for penetration. The question is, can you take all of him?
Chris reaches into the top drawer of his desk and brings out his strongest bullet vibrating device and places it over your clit. It only takes a moment for your body to respond. You are already starting your tremble. Your arousal is leaking onto the desk.
Chan hums in approval as your pussy clenches and releases as though it’s trying to suck him inside.
“I-I’m going to push inside… ready?” The usually composed Chris was showing signs of desperation. He’s imagined what it would feel like to have you wrapped around his cock for a long time now. How would feel? Warm? Wet? How tight would you squeeze him? What would your pretty little hole look like with his cum oozing out of it.
“Please…” you squeak, bringing Chris out of his thoughts. He won’t have to wonder any longer.
He squeezes the head of his cock into you. Just the tip, and pauses. The stretch is intense already.
“More… please… need more.” You cry. Chris raises an eyebrow “So this is what babygirl needs, hmmm. To be filled with cock.” He puts the vibrator on the desk, then pushes the underside of your thighs wide with his hands to give him as much access as possible. “I need to see if you can take the rest in one go. I’m going to push in the whole way.” His eyes flick up to meet yours for consent.
“Yes. Fill me up, Sir.” You have no hesitation. You need him.
“Okay. Relax for me.” And he pushes his entire length into your cunt. “There you go. There you go…big stretch…that’s it…good girl.”
It’s the best pleasure-pain you’ve ever felt. Chris’s cock stretching your walls and kissing your cervix is nothing like you’d imagined. He is so deep inside you. His hips pressing against your body. Connected so intimately.
For a moment Chris remains still. “Very good… Your pussy can accommodate cock rather well.” He states looking down to where your bodies are connected. “Now we need to check how hard your pussy can take it.”
Fuck! Just that sentence alone makes your insides burn and you involuntarily clench around Chris’s cock. He smirks, taking a mental note of your reaction. He knows you like dirty talk from previous experiments, but he wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it with him buried inside of you.
“Ready for me to move?” He inquires. He’s using all his self control to wait until you’re ready. You sit up, taking Chris by surprise, and reach up to the buttons on his shirt. Your faces are so close that you can feel his breath on your cheek. He looks down to watch your hands unbutton his shirt and pull it off his shoulders, tossing it to the floor. You gasp at the sight of his body and explore his toned muscles with your fingertips. Chris is as still as a statue and hard as stone inside you.
You slowly lift your gaze to find he is staring at your lips. Your hands find the back of his neck and you bravely bring your mouth to his. Chris moans at the softness of your lips. You slowly push your tongue into his mouth. It’s your turn to explore him. He knows your body so well, but this - kissing, fucking - it’s new to you both.
Chris kisses you back fervently and pushes you to lay down on the desk, him still attached to your mouth and your cunt. He starts to move inside of you. Slowly withdrawing and sinking back in. Slow and deep. His hands slide underneath your t-shirt finding your bare beast and he groans as he squeezes it. His mouth kisses every inch of skin on your neck. It’s like the floodgates have opened and he can finally show you how he feels. That you’re his favourite test subject.
Your moans and whimpers echo around the room. You’re desperate for Chris to ruin you.
“Y-you need to f-find out how h-hard I can t-take it.” You manage between heavy breaths.
Chris stops kissing you and leans up to take a good look at you. “You’re right.” He stands up and pulls you closer to the edge of the desk. “Let’s see how hard you can take it.”
You aren’t prepared for the intensity - the brutality - of his thrusts. Each one knocking the breath out of you.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, babydoll. So wet too. You should see the cream on my cock.” He grunts.
All you can do is cry, pant and moan as you have your brains fucked out. His thrusts push you across the desk.
“No baby, you’re not going anywhere.” He growls grabbing your legs and pulling you back towards him. Bending your legs to fold you practically in half, Chris continues to pound against your cervix. He brings a hand to your stomach and presses down to apply more pressure around his cock. This in turn allows his cock to press against your gspot.
“F-fuck!” You arch your back off the desk. “I’m so s-so close.”
“Hold your legs up for me pretty girl.” Chris instructs. Then you feel vibrations on your clit. The vibrator. Your eyes roll onto the back of your head as your legs shake and your cunt pulsates. “I’m fucking coming!” You scream, and as your orgasm hits you squirt all over the vibrator, Chris’s hand and his cock.
Chris doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even slow down. He doesn’t remove the vibrator. He just fucks you even harder. The overstimulation brings tears to your eyes, but the impact of Chris’s thrusts dull the discomfort, and after another moment you find yourself coming again, making you cry out even louder than before.
Chris grunts and growls and then finally stills. Then you feel it, his cock pulsating inside of you as he paints your insides with his hot cum.
He pulls out while you’re still catching your breath, and crouches down so he can watch his cum seep out of your swollen pussy. He hisses through his teeth. “So fucking hot.” Then with two fingers, he pushes his cum back inside your cunt.
“You need to keep this inside of you okay. Let’s not let it leak out too much or I’ll have you keep filling you up.”
You sit up, making the cum ooze out again.
“You did that on purpose.” Chris’s tone is unamused, but there is a smirk on his face.
“Whoops. You’re going to have to repeat the experiment, fill me up again.” You taunt playfully.
“Hmm. I think you’re ready for us to move on to the next phase of the experiment.” He said, ignoring your brattiness. “Next time we will see how your pussy takes it in various positions. Then after that perhaps seeing if it can take two cocks at once. I have a fellow scientist who I think will be perfect for the job.”
……
A/n: thinking of adding more experiments and scenarios…. Maybe even the extra scientist at some point. Let me know if you think I should? And if you would like to be tagged if I do. 😘
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This is a slight rework of an older story I wrote. It may be familiar to some.
@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina
@wolfennracha @chuuchuu1224
If you’ve been tagged twice I’m so sorry, but I’m having tumblr problems with getting tagging to work.
@3rachasdomesticbanana
@palindrome969
@xxkissesforchanniexx
@fun-fanfics
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buckttommy · 18 hours
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If there would be a tommy begins episode, what would you like to see?
I have waited... my entire life for this moment.
Sorry, I'm about to answer this question in the most Jack way possible. Strap in, I'm about to enter my director era. Okay, let's get to it.
Tommy Begins (Jack's Version)
Opening scene: We see a kid (8yo) playing with Legos on his bedroom floor. His room is very much so a boy's room—there are dinosaurs and dragons and a soccer ball in the corner—but it's very sparse. This family is not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. He's building a car, and beyond his closed bedroom door, you can hear muffled shouting. It's his mom and dad. The boy stops playing with his toys and listens as a door slams downstairs (his mom leaving) and heavy footsteps come up the stairs. He's already scooting backwards when the door opens and his father stands in the doorway. He's visibly drunk, and the camera is angled at Tommy's height so that the man in the doorway looks scary and imposing. (We're really leaning into the visuals here). So his dad looks at him and says, "Tommy, were you eavesdropping?" He wasn't, of course, but it doesn't matter because his dad is already undoing his belt (to beat him, not for anything else!!). Little Tommy continues to scoot backwards as his father comes into the room, and closes the door behind him. Before the door closes and the light from the hallway is shut out, we get a shot of the man's shirt—his father is an auto mechanic and the name Kinard is stitched into his clothing.
Similar to 5x17, where Jonah is introduced as a random little boy before the narrative makes the connection as to who he really is, this is the point where the audience realizes, oh, this isn't just any Tommy, this is our Tommy. And he's about to get his ass beaten.
Oh shit.
And then the 9-1-1 title card appears.
Now, all the begins episodes parallel past with present, so in my head, Tommy is off-work. Buck is moving in that day (this isn't a Buck/Tommy focused episode at all, but Buck is the vehicle for this episode to happen) and Tommy needs to finish going through his stuff to make room for him. He comes across a large box in the back of his closet that's stuffed with all his random keepsakes. He reaches into the box and pulls out a small Rubik's cube on a keychain.
The next scene flashes back to the past. We see Tommy as a teenager, getting into trouble with his idiot friends. They're all high as kites, and one of his friends overdoses on [drug]. He notices—he's the only one that notices, actually—and tells one of his other friends to call 9-1-1. They don't because they're kids, there are drugs involved, and they're stupid, so Tommy calls 9-1-1. He follows the operator's instructions and stays on the line until the paramedics get there. He accompanies his friend to the hospital and someone—a cop who is familiar with him, from having plucked him out of trouble a handful of times—waits with him. He tosses Tommy a Rubik's cube (the same one from the box) so that he can keep his mind occupied. His friend is okay, but the cop is like, "Listen, kid. One day, that's going to be you and one day, it's not going to turn out so well. You've got to straighten up or end up dead." Basically, the whole thing is kind of a wake up call. Before the scene changes, we see Tommy look up and look toward a container of pamphlets on the hospital wall. One of the pamphlets has a soldier on it. In his hand, the Rubik's cube has been completed.
In the present, Tommy continues going through his belongings. This is a dense episode, so we're not going to linger too much on what's happening in the present because it's secondary to what's going on in the past, but Buck and Tommy are texting. Buck is excited and has no idea the turmoil that is going on in his boyfriend's head. Tommy matches his enthusiasm (and it's genuine) but also takes a lot of effort at the moment. Still he smiles a little before he puts the phone down and continues digging through the box. Next, he withdraws his dog tags (and if it isn't obvious by now, the items in the box parallel with the next flashback because these are memories that are actively being triggered while the audience watches).
So, the next scene is obviously back to Tommy's time in the Army. Now, ideally, this would be a ninety-minute episode and I'd have the time to explore all the layers of Tommy's time in the service, but, alas, the boundaries of network television. In my head, most of Tommy's trauma comes from his childhood rather than his time in the Army anyway (which isn't to say it doesn't exist, just that it's not at the forefront of his issues) so we're going to have to gloss over that a bit. When we see him again, he's already in the Army, already well into his career, and the audience can see that he's shaped up and matured quite well. He's well-liked and good at what he does.
He's doing repairs on a helicopter when his CO approaches him and asks where he's going and what he's going to do after he's discharged. Tommy looks across the [hangar] and the camera pans to a a young man. He's in his 20s. Handsome in a boyish way. He's already looking at Tommy, but he looks sad and guilty and hesitant. They meet each others eyes and stare just a bit too long to be casual, and there is a lot of unspoken feeling between the two of them. Their relationship, such as it was during the DADT era, is heavily implied and it does not have a happy ending. Tommy looks back at his CO and says he's headed back home to Los Angeles. As for the rest, he doesn't know what he'll do after he leaves, but he'll figure it out as it comes to him. When he looks up at the guy, he's already gone. It's kind of a metaphor for the way the things he wants always seem to slip away.
In the present, Tommy is still going through his stuff. He unearths an old Academy shirt, so the next scene is his first day at the 118.
Tommy doesn't know it yet, but this is the first day of the rest of his life. Immediately, seeing those walls and doors fills the viewer with a sense of peace. Finally he's where he's supposed to be. He learns on his first day what type of boys club the 118 is under Gerrard. He's visibly uncomfortable (visibly to the viewer, who knows him well enough by now to read his face, but not to the old guard) the first time someone makes a homophobic joke. But he laughs and joins in, aware of but refusing to acknowledge the fact that they are making jokes at his expense. Just like that, he's accepted.
We see him assimilate quickly; the 118 goes on several calls. Not necessarily a montage, but we don't linger on the calls either except for a big fire. He saves Sal DeLuca and is rewarded with lots of accolades and praise. Tommy is one of the "in-crowd" and things are going well. But then Chimney shows up and Hen shows up shortly after. We all know how this plays in canon, so we don't linger too long on the times when Tommy is a dickhead but we do understand, from his perspective, that he has disdain for Hen and Chim—not because he's racist but because their existences threaten to dismantle this bubble of safety he's built around himself at the 118. The goal isn't to make the audience dismiss his complicity, but rather make them understand why he made the choices he made.
Because I am self-indulgent, there is one additional scene right before Tommy leaves for Harbor, where he and Hen are sitting in the locker room. She asks if he's going to miss it. He says he doesn't know, then he pauses and says "Kind of." There are lots of mixed feelings here. He suffocated himself in the closet within these walls and became someone he did not recognize, someone who went along with things rather than fight against the status quo, but he also learned how to breathe and exist a little freely once Gerrard left and Bobby took his place. He got his first taste of what it looks like to be Queer and proud within these walls, and that means something to him.
He looks at Hen and there are so many things he'd like to say to her that he doesn't know how to articulate, mostly because he cannot yet articulate them to himself. He's getting to that point but he's not there yet, so when she asks why he's looking at her like that, he just says "Thank you." "For what?" "For showing me another way." (This, of course, has a double meaning: first, referencing the idea that Hen/Chim showed him another way to be a firefighter, to be a family, to be a human being, and second, referencing the fact that Hen showed him another way to be Queer—showed him that Queerness doesn't have to be filled with self-hatred and pain. It can just... be... and people can either accept it, or they don't). Hen gets the sense that there's a lot he's not saying, a lot under the surface that she's not privy to, but she says "You're welcome."
The next scene is Tommy at Harbor, and the moment he gets there, the viewer can see a weight slip off his shoulders. He's back where he belongs—back with the mechanics, back with the big toys that make him feel at ease. It's a direct parallel to Buck's first meeting with the 118 (not for any Buck/Tommy purposes, just because I love a good narrative parallel) where Bobby pranks him. But Tommy smiles when they bust his balls, and settles into himself, and the viewer can see that he's okay. Things might not be perfect—he might not be perfect—but he's on the right track to being the person the audience will know and love in a few short seasons.
Back in the present, Tommy is pulled out of his walk down memory lane by the sound of his front door opening. Buck is standing on the other side with an overly large box in his hands. Tommy helps him carry it in, and offers to get the rest of his stuff from the Jeep, but Buck waves him off. He studies his face for a long moment, and asks if Tommy is alright. Tommy opens his mouth to answer and discovers, almost shockingly, that he is. He is alright. Maybe he wasn't a couple minutes ago. Maybe those items from the past dredged up memories that were best left forgotten. But he's here now, in this moment with his boyfriend, and he's fine. He's survived a lot. He's grown a lot. He's happy. So he smiles and he says yes, yes he's alright, and he kisses Buck, who also smiles, deeply. The doors close, implying sexytimes and Tommy closing the door on all the chapters of his life that have led him to this place, where he's now ready to embrace and walk into his future.
aaaaand SCENE :) the end.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 days
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The Perfect Life || CL16 {7}
Summary: The first night at Charles’ house is almost ruined before it can even begin. Warnings: angst, light smut WC: 3.2k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.
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The paper bag in your hands crinkled as you opened it to see what Charles had asked you to carry. “What is this?” 
“Dinner.”
You raised a brow and closed it back up. “Those are ingredients,” you corrected, placing it on the kitchen bench in his apartment. “I hope you aren’t expecting me to cook because you will be bitterly disappointed.”
He laughed as he closed the front door and kicked his shoes off. “It’s all prepared, the pasta just needs boiling but I can do that. Why don’t you take a look around?”
You already planned on being nosey when he wasn’t looking but now you could openly snoop and happily left him to his own devices. Like most apartments in Monaco, it was smaller than you were used to but it was more than enough for a man living on his own. 
You circled the living room and tried not to be envious of all the photos he had hung in frames around the room. Faces you recognised held carefree smiles that they never had in your presence and Charles was no exception. You thought you had seen his real smile but even that was strained compared to what was captured when he was with his friends and family.
“I’m starting to think that frown is just your resting face,” Charles commented as he stepped out of the galley kitchen to see your progress. 
You schooled your face until the lines evened out and a mild look of boredom hid your thoughts as you turned away from the photos and found something that made your heart nearly stop. The manuscript was plain and unassuming on the shelf, the title print small and barely legible on the bare sewn spine, but you knew that book.
“You stole it.”
Charles’ confused gaze followed you to the bookshelf. “What?”
“It wasn’t enough to take him from me but you took our book too,” you muttered as you tugged it from the shelf and ran your fingers across the faded purple inscription in the corner: For Jules. A hint of the berry scented ink still clung to the page and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you opened it to the dog eared page you left behind.
“This was a mistake,” you said as you closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf. If it wasn’t this, it would just be something else- there was too much history to think this could ever work. “I can’t do this, Charles.”
He intercepted your exit, blocking the door with pleading eyes. “Wait, please. I didn’t know it was yours. You can have it back.” 
“I don’t want it back! I want to finish reading it to him but I’ll never get that chance because of you.” You took a step closer, ready to go through him to get out the door but he surprised you by sliding down the white panel until his ass planted on the floor. Charles pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them as he looked down to hide in shame.
The moment of silence dragged on as his breath grew as ragged as yours and you both relived that day in the hospital.
“I’m sorry,” he stressed as he threw his head back, the thud heavy against the wood. “I’m fucking sorry! For all of it. I didn’t deserve the time I got with him, I don’t deserve this career - it should have been his, like you. I definitely don’t deserve you.”
You slumped to the floor too with your back to the kitchen cabinets. This was not how you imagined your evening going. The plan had been simple; stay the night with Charles and arrive at the paddock for his first practice together - hard launching the relationship and confirming all the rumours that you had both started.
“When did this become your pity party?” you asked as you studied the herringbone tile floor instead of the enigma sitting opposite you.
Charles’ jaw dropped and he shook his head as he stammered over his words. “It’s not…I’m not…that’s not what…”
“How do you make it through interviews? One question and you’re a blithering mess.” You rolled your eyes and stretched your leg out to nudge his foot. “You are wrong by the way. I wasn’t meant to be Jules’ either.”
“I know.” He nodded and sighed, wiping his nose that had turned pink. “It probably doesn’t change anything but I finished it. I read him that book before he…before he died.”
You pushed yourself up to your feet and offered him your hand. His palm was clammy against your skin and you barely made any effort to pull him up as he did the work himself, rising to his full height in front of you. “You’re right, it doesn’t change anything,” you admitted, watching his shoulders deflate. 
“Figured as much.”
“But,” you said as you held a finger up when he went to move away and he froze, “that was a proper apology that actually felt real.”
“So you forgive me?”
“No, I don’t even know how to do that, but I’m not going to leave.”
He smiled like it was a small victory and enveloped you in one of his spontaneous hugs that you were slowly growing used to. “I don’t know how, but I am going to make it up to you one day. I promise.”
“How about you start with just making dinner?” You stepped out of his embrace and looked around the room with weary eyes. “I’m not going to find any more surprises, am I?”
He chewed his lip as he thought for a moment. “I have his helmet in my office but the door is closed.”
You swallowed deeply and nodded. You were going to avoid that room at all costs. “Keep it that way.”
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Panic gripped you as the bike started to wobble. Your feet tangled in the pedals and your fingers slipped from the brakes before the gravel driveway rapidly came up to meet you. The skin on your knees stung with the dozens of little stones that grazed them and your elbows were in a similar state as you lay sprawled beneath the summer sun. 
“Up you get,” Jules said as he dusted the stones off and picked you up. 
Your bottom lip began to tremble and he shook his head. “There’s no use crying, lapinette, might as well laugh and learn.”
“I don’t want to laugh,” you grumbled, kicking the bike to emphasise your displeasure.
Jules shrugged and picked the bike up, holding it out for you to try once more. “Well, that’s usually when you need to the most.”
You accepted the bike and looked longingly at the trainer wheels he had taken off. The plastic wheels were beside his kart that was propped up on a stand, some of the parts in pieces for him to finish cleaning before he rebuilt it for the race. “Do you think you can win?”
“Absolutely, just like I know you can ride that bike.”
“I fell off.”
He laughed at your attitude and knew you would be a handful when you grew up. Pointing to the driveway he said, “Then you better try again, no? Because if you don’t ride it then I can’t win!” 
You laughed at the stupidity of the statement but rose to the challenge, throwing a leg over the pastel pink bike and ringing the little bell on the handle for good luck. “You better win, Jules.”
You took a deep breath and pushed the pedal down, slowly building momentum. The wind blew your hair back and you laughed as you realised you were doing it. You were biking…straight towards the wrought iron gates.
You jolted awake in the unfamiliar bedroom and found Charles sleeping soundly. Though you had woken before the impact came you knew Jules had saved you. The lanky teen had sprinted after the bike and grabbed you from the seat before it careened into the metal, buckling the front wheel. You hadn’t quite mastered bike riding that week but Jules still won his karting race.
Sleep was as distant as the memory that had resurfaced so you quietly slipped from the room and found yourself at the bookshelf. Sometimes you wished you had no memory, then you couldn’t be reminded of how happy you had been. But, on the flipside, if you didn’t have the memory you feared you would never know what happiness was at all. 
When Charles woke to an empty bed he wondered if you had left after all despite watching you fall asleep beside him. It was only the sound of the balcony door sliding open that let him breathe a sigh of relief and he climbed out of the bed to check on you. A cool breeze left a chill in the air of the living room and Charles grabbed the blanket that hung from the back of the sofa before he stepped outside.
“You’ll catch a cold like that,” he whispered to the night. The Ferrari shirt you wore fell halfway down your thighs but curled up on the outdoor settee had the red material barely covering your underwear and Charles covered the bare skin with the blanket.
“Bad dream?” he asked as he took a seat beside you and noticed the book in your hands. 
“Worse,” you replied. “A good memory.”
Charles draped his arm over the back of your seat, his fingers softly touching your shoulder, and he tucked his legs under the blanket too. “Want to talk about it?”
You gave him a look that made him chuckle before turning your attention back to the page. You were halfway through the story and you could finally appreciate the action thriller now that you understood the vengeance Jack Reacher felt and the way he fought but even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the dream. With an irritated sign, you closed the book and took to searching the stars instead. 
“Charles?” He hummed quietly and you looked across to see his relaxed state watching the dark sky too. “If I ask you something, can you just do it without reading too much into it?”
He tore his eyes away from the brightest star in the sky and frowned. “Uh, I guess it depends on what you ask me.”
“I want you to kiss me.”
His lips curled up in a slow smile and his fingers danced across your collar to the base of your throat as he leaned in. “You don’t have to ask me.”
“It’s not because I like you, I just need something to stop me thinking,” you clarified. 
“Again, you don’t have to ask me.” His lips brushed against yours before they teased your jawline and his breath warmed your ear. “You can use me however you want.”
It was already a messy situation and adding sex to the mix was only going to end badly but you needed it. You needed to forget the thoughts racing through your head and you needed the high of an orgasm. Charles was more than willing to give you both when he carried you back to his bed.
The next time you woke you were in a far better headspace.
You felt the ghost of a kiss on your cheek before Charles left to get ready for the day but you buried your head deeper in the pillow and tried to ignore the sweet ache in your body. It was impossible. Your core throbbed with the memory of how he had filled it and your thighs pressed together in search of friction only to feel the beard burn he had left between them. 
“Fuck,” you groaned as you realised you would not be getting back to sleep.
“Regretting your life choices?” Charles asked from the doorway, two mugs of coffee in his hands and not a lick of clothing to be seen.
“On the list of my regrets, this doesn’t even register,” you said as you sat up and accepted the hot cup, your state of undress not much better. “But it would have been easier if you sucked in bed.”
“How’s that?” He lifted his pillow up against the headboard and took a seat with an amused grin at the compliment.
“For starters, I wouldn’t want to do it again. Things are already complicated enough and now I have technically been fucked by my boss.”
“If you want to get technical, you fucked me,” he pointed out with a smirk. “You were in control, babe.”
You took a deep breath and told yourself it was too early for violence, even if he was right. Charles had been quite clear on the fact you were in control, especially when he sat in much the same position against the headboard and let you ride him into oblivion. “Maybe it will make it on my list of regrets after all.”
“You can worry about them later,” he said after a few mouthfuls of his coffee. “We should start getting ready to head to the track and your hair screams ‘sex’. Bathroom is across the hall, there’s a new toothbrush in the top drawer if you need.”
“Wow, a spare toothbrush? That screams manwhore.”
“I’m just being a gentleman, you’re the one that swallowed.”
You nearly spilled the coffee with the laugh that bubbled out of your mouth unexpectedly. “Ah, there’s the regret. I knew I should have snowballed you.”
His nose wrinkled with the idea and you laughed darkly. Next time he would probably hesitate and remember this conversation. You froze. You were already thinking about the next time you would fuck and that was enough to stun you silent so you busied your mouth finishing the drink. 
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It was hard not to fall in love with the atmosphere of race week in Monaco. Arriving hand in hand with Charles had the desired effect and you were still feeling the ripples of it as the day ended. 
“I’m exhausted and I didn’t even do anything,” you admitted through the headset as the private helicopter whisked you back to Nice. 
Charles flexed his hand that had furiously signed autographs right up until the moment he stepped inside the helicopter. “It gets like that sometimes but I only feel it after everything goes quiet.”
“Are you sure you want to come to this dinner? You can go home and rest. Jacques can fly you back.”
Charles reached across the seat and took your hand even though there was no audience to witness the touch. “And leave you alone with your parents?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen.”
“I have managed to survive 25 years on my own.”
“That’s a miracle in itself. I probably wouldn’t be trusted with the steak knife if that was me.”
You grinned at the joke and rested your head on his shoulder. “I like this dark side of you.”
“I suppose that’s a start.”
Your good mood was brought down the moment you spotted the mansion before landing. Too many cars lined the driveway for the simple family dinner your mother planned and you fell quiet as the helicopter touched down in the backyard. 
“What is this?” Charles asked, looking down at his casual jeans and sweatshirt.
“The tenth circle of hell,” you muttered.
Veronica was practically vibrating with excitement when you arrived at the patio door and she held out two tickets for the opera tomorrow night, as requested. “Silly girl. You have dinner with Prince Albert, you can’t even go.”
Charles knew better after seeing the many masks you had adorned to hide your thoughts but it still amazed him how quickly you could become a woman he didn’t recognise. A sneer grew, twisting your smile into a cruel mockery of the one he knew and your eyes narrowed as you swiped the tickets from her hand.
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“I tried, but that’s what you get for being a spoiled little brat.”
“Alicia! My room, now!” Your voice carried through the mansion and you stormed up the stairs with Charles following behind, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. The maid was already waiting outside your bedroom door when you arrived and you barrelled inside, slamming the door shut in Veronica’s smirking face.
The dress hanging in the closet was still wrapped in the garment bag and you took it off the hanger, holding it out to Alicia. “Get this dress out of my sight! I never want to see it again.”
Alicia looked a little shocked at the outburst you needed to be heard through the door. “But it is McQueen.”
“I don’t care!” You lowered your voice to a whisper and reached into your pocket. “Here’s two tickets to La Bohème, take the dress and go with Javier. You didn’t think I forgot your anniversary, did you? Go.”
Tears filled Alicia’s eyes and she threw her arms around you. “Thank you.”
You shook your head and sincerely said, “You deserve more than this.”
Alicia dipped at the waist and delicately hung the dress over her arm as she walked to the door. Veronica saw the tears in Alicia’s eyes and shook her head as the quiet maid rushed down the stairwell.
“Your father will hear about this tantrum.”
You tipped your nose up and crossed your arms smugly. “I’m his only child, that makes me his favourite by default. Now run along and tell him.”
Veronica turned on her heel with a scoff and you closed the door before sighing heavily. You would probably pay for the insolence in one way or another but it was worth it.
“Why did you do that?” Charles asked as he reached past your hip and locked the door.
“I couldn’t pay for the tickets myself and they already think the worst of me, might as well play the fool for a good cause.”
Charles opened his arms and you stepped into the embrace. He could see how draining the act was and couldn’t wait until the day you left Nice. “You’re a good person,” he said quietly before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“I don’t think the guests downstairs would agree with you. I don’t even know why they are here.”
You found out soon enough when you emerged from your room dressed in more appropriate attire. Just as you suspected, it was punishment and you would play the fool once again for your mother’s entertainment. You felt sick seeing the grand piano in the dining hall and your fingers stiffened at the thought of sitting in front of the guests to play at her whim.
“Are you okay?” Charles asked as he saw your pallor fade.
Forcing the discontent away, you smiled in time for the first guest to spot your entrance into the room. “Just peachy, Charles. Ready to act lovesick?”
He didn’t need to act, and you found it all too easy that maybe it wasn’t acting either. Your body fit perfectly into the curve of his arm and you moved together through the room making introductions. But all too soon your mother dragged you away and snapped her finger at the piano.
“The Economy Minister favours Beethoven,” she whispered with a look to the man your father was for lack of a better word, schmoozing. “Don’t fuck this up.”
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watermelons. | JS x Reader
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SYNOPSIS: Jake loves ur boobs. That’s it really.
PAIRING: Jake Seresin x Reader
A/N: written for all my big tit girlies, from a big tit girlie herself.
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He’s been obsessed with the girls since he first saw them.
And by the girls, he means your tits.
Like just imagine, cocky little top gun aviator, Jake Seresin, turning into a complete mess first glance at you. Spilling his beer all over his tan golden chest that one summer afternoon at the beach with the dagger squad, just because he saw you in your denim shorts and yellow halter top.
And they sit so nicely, your tits. Full, large, and beautiful.
The breeze carries the scent of salt, the air humid and yet all jake can do is stare at the girl with the sweet smile and pretty tits, laughing loudly with her friends on the Hard Deck patio.
“So you’re just gonna stare like a creep or what?” Bradley’s low voice calls out beside him, crossing his arms across his chest as he adjusts his aviator sunglasses, muscles glistening as well under the heat. He whistles softly when he sees you, to which Jake shoves his friend away playfully, annoyed that he’s looking at you too.
“Back off, Bradshaw”
And so next thing he knows, he’s by your side, immediately serenading you with his charming smile and kind eyes.
“Hi sweetheart”
It’s so fucking cheesy and simple, and yet it works on you. You’re spinning around, eyes going wide at the firm, golden chest your face to face with and the way Jake just looms over you, hands on his hips, sweaty and golden from a match of beach football.
“Would you allow me to buy the pretty girl and her friends a drink?” He asks your friend group, sending a wink that makes the girls swoon.
“Oh my fuck” slips out from one of your friends behind you, the group gawking at the sight of the tall, handsome man in front of them.
And she was right. Oh my fuck indeed.
All it took was one line of southern drawl and you were hooked.
That night when Jake has you pinned against the alleyway wall outside of the bar, both your cheeks hot and the breeze cooler, you stare up at the man you had just spent the whole day flirting to.
“So you’re stationed here for a few months?” you breathe out, staring at his broad chest and chiseled jaw, feeling so small under his gaze. You gasp when his hand shifts closer, holding your waist firm in his grasp.
He nods, no need for words when he’s busy admiring you as well. The tall man gently nestles his lips beside your ear, whispering praises as he pressed a kiss to your neck.
You shut your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at the proximity and sheer sensuality of it all.
“Can I touch you?” He asks pulling away, looking at your eyes with something more than just lust.
You smile, chest heaving as you replied coyly. “Where do you want to touch me?”
Jake is starstruck at your words, trying so hard to shield you from the world under his arms and selfishly have you all for himself.
You take both his hands in yours and wrap them over your hips, letting them grab the mounds of your flesh and groan, feeling his hard on pressing against your front.
“feel me. and show me where you want to touch me most” you gasp, eyes shutting closed.
Jake pulls his hands away to caress your cheeks, taking your face as he presses his lips against yours.
“Here” he says under his breath. That was where he wanted to touch you most.
The kiss is deep, soft under the starry beach sky.
The same hands slide down to softly squeeze your tits, and that’s when you know that was the second spot he wanted to touch most. You smirk against the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing into him further.
Jake Seresin was a tits guy.
So when Jake comes home to his apartment after a year of steady dating, he’s already making a beeline to find you, settling on the fact that you must be in the laundry room finishing up the chores.
You don’t even have time to greet your boyfriend properly before he’s shoving his face in your tits and smacking a kiss to each one.
“Jake, what is up with you?” You giggled, shocked at how needy and hot he was. “I didn’t know they let you off early”
He sighs, taking them in his strong hands and pressing a kiss to each breast again.
“Just missed my girls, that’s all” he groans, holding you closer as you give him a hug.
you rolled your eyes, watching as he continue to rub them softly, pressing a kiss to your collar bone.
“I cut up the watermelon, it’s in the fridge” you told him, pulling him away to press a peck to his cheek.
You took the laundry basket, propping it against your hip as you smiled when Jake called out while pouting at the loss of contact.
“Not the melons I need!” he exasperates, trailing after you quickly.
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aetherdoesthings · 2 days
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would you like a new home? (pt. 3.2)
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forethoughts: i maxxed out arlecchino to lvl 90 🤩. rip all my fragile resins.
notes: gn!child!reader, NOT AN X READER READER IS A CHILD IN THIS!!!
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Arlecchino was working when the caretaker had entered her office. She suppressed her disdain and annoyance as she asked the caretaker what was so important her work time had to be disrupted.
Arlecchino immediately stood up and stormed towards the caretaker when she heard your name.
“Y/N had gotten in a fight with another child? Two children?” Arlecchino pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowed. The caretaker elaborated more, handing her two distinct blades, one stained with blood.
“We have them in their room right now. The other two is in the infirmary. How would a child get their hands on such dangerous objects?” The caretaker commented, as Arlecchino took both blades, clutching both helms with one hand.
“I will deal with this.” Arlecchino walked out of her office, marching towards the infirmary. After all, you could use some more time to reflect before you would meet her.
You sat on your bed, knees to your chest and head on your knees as you stared at the wall. Father’s broken compass was next to you, the needle finally taking a rest. You could imagine the children outside gossiping and decreasing your odds of ever making friends in this hellhole of an orphanage. How you had injured the most popular kid. 
Father made sure you knew not to care about what the others said about you. And you didn’t at all.
Father.
How was Father taking in the information?
Surely Father was already informed about the fight. 
Your heart sank a little when you tried to imagine how Father was feeling. The betrayal. The hurt. The shock that you had used your new toys Father had only taught you on one of your ‘kin’. Perhaps the boy was right. In the end of the day Father might as well revoke everything she had given you. Including this room.
The sound of the doorknob twisting open shattered your confidence and determination you had about the fight, the sounds of Father’s heel clicking against the marble ground sending spiders down your spine. You felt a dip in the mattress being created, as Father sat down next to you, mere inches away. Father sat there, observing your hunched figure with a stoic expression in the deafening silence. You heard her pick up her broken compass-the gift she had given you to take care of. And it was completely shattered.
“...I’m sorry.” You murmured, breaking the silent barrier. “I tried to stop them from breaking it.”
Father let out a chuckle. “Anything that can break will break. Some can be fixed, some cannot.” 
You felt Father’s eyes pierce your skull, causing your gaze to fall even lower. To your surprise, a hand was placed on your head, combing through your hair. You were shuffled closer to Father’s body, until your shoulder touched hers. “How are you feeling, dear? Are you alright?”
Father was… comforting you? 
Your shoulders relaxed a little, but they were still stiff.
“I-I’m… okay.”
“Did they hurt you in any way?” You bit your lips, the conversation one of the orphans had with you while their foot was on your head was still fresh in your mind.
“Yes…” You mumbled, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve.
Father noticed-of course she did-, and placed her hand in yours, rubbing small circles on your palm.
“How so?”
You looked down. “...They started it.”
“Okay.” Father said calmly. “How so? And do look at me when you do.”
You reluctantly lifted your head, meeting Father’ surprisingly warm and calm gaze. “I was admiring the compass you had given me. And then one of them tripped me and took the compass and started playing with it. The other one shoved me and placed his feet on my head and pressed it down.”
You swore you saw Father’s eye twitch at your last sentence. 
“The one pressing my head against the ground told me I had to ask you to have a smaller room, no dessert, last in line and an earlier curfew than the other orphans.” You spat each word out with poison. “They threatened to break Father’s compass if I did not do what they said. He shoved me first and attacked me. Father said if I was attacked first I could use my toys. So I did. I tried talking to them first but they wouldn’t listen. I did what Father said to do before I used my toys.”
Father remained silent, as her hand brushed over the area the boy had stepped on your head. “Does your head hurt now?”
“A-A little… b-but it's nothing…” 
Father ignored your comment, as she lifted your body so you were on her lap. She examined the area the boy stepped on. Placing a single finger on the area was enough to make you shiver, the corners of your eyes burn and tears threatening to fall.
“My poor child…” Father sighed, wrapping her arms around your frail body.
Now your tears were really threatening to fall. “I-I’m sorry for using my new toys on the other orphans… I’m sorry for disobeying Father’s rule… I promise it won’t happen again. F-Father can take away my room a-and move me back to that room w-with the other orphans, put me last in line for food and give me an earlier curfew. I’ll take it without complaint. I d-deserve it for disappointing Father.”
“Nonsense, my child.” Father placed her fingers on your chin, forcing you to look her in the eyes. She moved her hand to your cheek, wiping your tears away with a gentle wipe of her thumb. “None of those things will happen. I will not punish you for acting in self defense. I am not disappointed in you for trying to defend yourself.”
“B-But-”
“No buts. What happened has happened. You are hurt; they are hurt. Adding more pain and suffering to one side of the scale will not make it balanced nor just.” Father’s lips turned into a thin smile, as she let out a sigh. “Come. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed, okay? It has been a long day for you.”
Father lifted you up in her arms, cradling you as she carried you to what you could only assume to be her private bathroom, seeing she had walked past the showering hall. 
“Father…?” You hesitantly asked.
“Yes, my dear?”
“...Why did you give me all those perks? A new room, first in line, no curfew?”
Father let out a sigh. “Even looking back I do not understand why I had the urge to do all those for you. I suppose it was because I was concerned and worried about you, my child. I could not bear to watch you sit alone and always get the last pick for everything. I could not bear to sit in the sidelines and watch you try and hold your tears back as you watched dust move across the ground. I could not bear to watch the other children treat you like filth when you were the kindness out of all. I believed that giving you some perks would help make your stay more… comfortable.”
Father paused. “Has it… made your stay more comfortable?”
You looked at the ground, your head resting on Father’s shoulder. “A little…”
Father let out a chuckle. “Better than none.”
Father carried you to her private bathroom, setting you down in the tub as she lathered soap across your back and body, washing your hair. Her touch was delicate and gentle, never lingering in one spot for too long or applying a large amount of pressure. Father dried you with one of her towels, dressing you in silk pajamas before carrying you back to your room. You found it hard to believe. You had injured two of Father’s children, and yet while they were in the infirmary, legs immobilized, you were wearing silk pajamas, being washed by Father, and coddled all along the way.
As Father laid you down in bed, brushing your hair one last time and planting a kiss on your forehead, you couldn’t help but ask.
“Why does Father treat me so well? Father w-wouldn’t do any of this for the others, would she?” You blurted out.
Father chuckled at your question, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards. “Perhaps it is true I treat you much differently and better than the rest. Perhaps I do have a sense of favoritism towards you. Perhaps it is because I see a part of me in you. No matter. Soon, my dear child, all of this will be over. I will deal with this. Do not worry about the other two children. Get some rest, my child, and all will be well. I will be coming back shortly to deliver you dinner.”
Father walked away, turning off the lights in your room as she shut the door. You laid there on your bed, her words echoing in your head. Father saw herself in you? Your little mind didn’t know how to think about that.
But all you knew was that Father cared for you.
Father loved you. 
Father was not mad. 
Father said everything will be better.
So everything will be better.
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lovelybrooke · 3 days
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Letters Never Sent (Yandere Malleus x Reader)
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A letter wrote by Malleus Draconia, never sent to the object of his desires. Why don't you open it up and see what's inside...
masterlist
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Dear My Child of Man,
I am writing this letter with no intention of you receiving it. 
Maybe this is "silly" as you would describe it, but I find myself slowly losing the restraint on my emotions as the days go by. My heart fills with unfamiliar feelings as I think of you, mixing together into an ever present sense of desire that makes me near shameful. 
I find myself thinking of you always, from the moment I wake, to the moment I fall asleep. You seep your way into my dreams, where for but a moment I can relish in the fantasy that is you. I dream of your soft voice, your comforting gaze, your addicting presence. You are so captivating that I often forget I'm dreaming, until I awake with an aching feeling I've come to know as longing. 
I long for you, I've learned.
I long for your voice, for your gaze, for your presence. I long for every essence of your being to be directed towards me. Some may call me a fool, scoff my way and paint me a madman, but I am nothing without my love for you, so it bothers me none. I often wonder if you think of me as intensely as I do you. I have to admit it is exciting, the mere thought of you reciprocating my feelings warms me so. It is intoxicating, even as a fantasy, simply imagining a life with you is enough for me. Somedays, I imagine gifting you with an unending dream, one where it is just us, away from the rest of the world. Away from duty, and work, and anything else that could distract us from each other, from our love. We would be together and we would be happy until the end of your days, and even after you're gone, I would continue loving you. 
You were always so opposed to the idea, immortality. I remember the look on your face when you realized just how long I had lived, the sadness, the remorse, the pain. At that moment, it was not something I feared, more accurately not something I thought much about. It was not until I met you that it dawned upon me that at some point, you would leave this world, and that it would keep moving. Time would progress, people would grieve, but they would move on, plants would sprout and grow and wilt and eventually grow again, but I would remain stuck. Stuck with my dreams and fantasies. Stuck with the memory of you so present it would be like you never left in the first place. 
Even now, I fear what the world would be like without you. Not much fills me with fear, my Child of Man, but I've found myself scared lately. The thought of you leaving, of going back to your home, and never returning scares me. It is almost comical in a way, I find myself dreading the thought even while writing this. You should be proud, how easily you are able to terrify me is an excellent skill, one many would love to possess. 
You were my first true friend, did you know that? I have Lilia and Silver and Sebek, but I've always been treated as above them, as something untouchable. You were the first person to treat me like an equal, to bless me with the wonderful feeling of friendship. I often find myself racked with guilt, why should I desire more from you when you've already given me so much already? It is selfish, to seek out your love so desperately when I've already taken so much from you. You are my friend, and I should value our friendship above all. 
But that is why I fear, because my love for you goes beyond the boundaries of friendship. I would even say it goes beyond the boundaries of love. It is a longing so deep I wonder if I'll ever be the same again, all while knowing that I am too engrossed in the feeling that is you to ever go back. A longing so deep I yearn with desire unexplainable to man, desire so profound and raw that I am sure you have changed something within me. A longing so deep the closest word to describe it is obsession, but even obsession doesn't explain the hundreds of letters, all unset, pilling away, all centering you. 
Fear, love, what do distinctions matter if every single one of my thoughts center you. 
I have no desire to send this letter, my Child of Man, but I hope with every meeting, every passing day, every time we are together, you are able to feel the love I hold for you. I hope my longing, my devotion, my never ending, boundless obsession is clear to you, my love. 
Because I fear what will happen when I run out of paper.
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A/n: here's to me hoping that this will break my writers block.
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inkwolvesandcoffee · 3 days
Text
TF141 Meeting Soap’s Little Sister (a.k.a. You)
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CoD ML
The task force didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. They already have to deal with Soap’s husky antics, which can already be too much to handle. Multiply that by two and no one, especially Simon, wants to deal with that.
But they certainly wouldn’t mind the company of the woman in the doorway.
Why on earth didn’t Soap warn them?
For John, it’s the sweater paws. For a second they make him selfishly want to dress you in one of his sweaters.
For Simon, it’s the way you shyly hide behind your brother, a habit you still have at your big age. Normally he loathes shows of fragility, but yours is endearing to him. For the first time in a very long while, it kindles something in him.
For Kyle, it’s your eyes. He simply can’t look away even though he’s aware it makes you uncomfortable.
“Lads, meet my sister, Y/N.” The adoration Soap has for you is plain to see in the gentle smile that plays out on his lips, proud to be your brother and amused you’ve barely changed from your younger days. Why else would you look at him, lowkey terrified of the strangers he’s brought into your home. “It’s awright, hen. They’re good men, even the big bawbag with the skull mask. Go oan an’ introduce yerself.”
Clutching your brother’s sleeve, relieved he’s home and glad for his protection, you introduce yourself. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”
And in that moment, without so much as trying, you have your brother’s unit wrapped around your finger.
So much so that Simon removes his balaclava before he even crosses the threshold. Unbeknownst to you, it’s extremely rare to see the man without his mask and always leads to the unit members exchanging surprised glances.
“What’s this, LT?” your brother asks, badly faking disbelief.
“Proper etiquette. Plus, I can’t eat with the thing on.”
“Oh, so you do eat. I thought ghosts didn’t have ta.”
“Johnny…”
“Just messing with ye, Ghost.”
“Ghost?” you ask.
“It’s my callsign, miss. I- I mean, Y/N.” He keeps his distance, but tries to make himself as small as possible to seem less intimidating. “We ain’t on duty now, so’s just Simon.”
“I see.”
Throughout the night, your brother’s comrades try to win your favour. Kyle offers to help set the table, teaming up with John who beats him to it by lifting the stack of plates in your hands. “Can’t have the lady of the house do everything, can we?”
“But-“
“Please, Y/N, allow me.” His features soften, though there’s a strange glint in his eyes you can’t name. Nevertheless, it sharpens further into sterness as John turns around and starts speaking like you’d imagine he does out in the field. “Gaz, get over here. We have to help our hostess out.”
“You… you really don’t…”
“It’s the least we can do,” Kyle reassures you, shown up at your side at the first word of the captain. “We’ll try to do it neatly.”
“Oi, Gaz, stop being cheeky and get moving.”
“Yes, sir.” Kyle sighs. “He makes it sound like we’re on a battlefield. Fortunately, this is less severe, innit?”
“It might be if there aren’t glasses between now and ten seconds,” John mutters, circling around you two to put the last plates down and move on to cutlery.
“Ever the perfectionist. Where do you keep them?” Kyle asks.
You point at a cupboard. “Right there.”
“Okay. Y/N, we’ll do a proper job. Promise.” And with that, he’s off to help set the table.
While cooking, you observe Simon dawdling around the kitchen. Or, rather, as you discover when you lift your head to check what’s going on, he’s forced to thanks to Johnny.
“Och, just offer yer help. Ah dinnae ken, chop some veggies. Also, she’s into video games- Y/N!” Johnny slaps Simon on the shoulder, feigning ignorance. “Can this wee bawbag help ye with anything?”
“Stop calling me that,” Simon grumbles through gritted teeth.
“Do you cook?”
“He-“ Soap opens his mouth to answer for his friend yet finds himself cut short.
“Haud yer wheest, John. I was nae asking you, I was asking Simon.” Holding out your spatula as a threat to your brother, you turn to the gentle giant.
Simon looks at you through his lashes, but quickly averts his gaze when your eyes meet. “I dabble. Try to put proper grub on the table sometimes.”
“Help me do the same?”
“Uh… sure.”
“Lovely!”
“Have fun, LT.” Johnny offers you both a cheeky grin, then turns on his heel to return to the others.
And so Simon finds himself cooking alongside you. Truth be told, you partially did it to save him from his brothers in arms. Regardless of how well he knows them and the amount of time he’s spent with them, their extroverted personalities still wear him out. His silence is telling, different from the intimidating version he dropped the moment you opened the door. You’ve seen how his eyes glaze over, occupied with dreams you can only guess at. Occasionally he’ll nod and make a noise to make the others think he’s listening.
Nevertheless, it’s still surprising Simon tries to start a conversation.
A conversation that goes in all sorts of, mostly nerdy, directions. So soon you find yourself listening to elaborate explanations of the lore of various FromSoftware games, a topic Simon passionately enlightens you on.
He stops mid-sentence when you chuckle. “What?”
“You have a nice voice.”
“Oh… uh… thanks.”
“Jesus, Y/N, you’re some kind of miracle worker.” Gaz walks into the kitchen to grab another beer from the fridge. “How’d you get Ghost to talk?”
Simon glowers at his companion, but stands down when you gesture for him to remain calm. “Sometimes you simply need the right person, a genuine heart that listens. Now, boys, let’s eat.”
“Food?” Johnny calls from the couch.
“My days, what are ye? A husky?” you call, only partially truly annoyed.
Dinner is an amiable affair. The men (yes, even Soap) censor themselves, finding it inappropriate to start effin and blindin in your company. All the same, they include you in the conversation however possible and fall silent when they notice you want to chime in. Unbeknownst to you all, Johnny is especially vigilant none of the other men makes an advance towards you. Sure, you’re a grown woman. Nonetheless, to him, you’ll always be the wee bairn he held as a four-year-old boy, the barely grown girl who couldn’t stop crying when he was deployed for the first time.
You’re his little sister, the only girl he’d gift the moon if he could.
That being said, though, should you end up with any member of the unit, he dearly hopes it’s Simon. So it’s actually quite reassuring for him to see you two get along as well as you do.
“Two peas in a pod,” Soap mumbles, the words muffled by beer and the clinking of cutlery.
The lads gesture for you to remain seated while they clear the table and do the dishes.
“‘S alright, Y/N. Leave it to us,” John says when you try to get up from your chair.
“You really don’t-“
“No, no. Please.” The bear-like hand on your shoulder is gentle though strong, persuasive in its conviction for you to remain seated. “A small favour, really, to repay your kindness.”
The table cleared, John and Simon excuse themselves for a quick smoke. In the meanwhile, Johnny and Kyle wash the dishes.
For dessert, you sit the men down with coffee and tea to enjoy with a scone.
Kyle falls a little more for you when you show you’re full of contrasts. Shy on the surface yet so fierce when defying your brother. “I was doing fine, crocheting my time away without puppy antics.”
“I’m nae like a dog.” Your brother stops mid-bite to protest.
“Johnny, yer a bloody husky.”
“Well, at least I’m one that did nae get shot.”
“Oh, haud yer wheesht, like you ever will. Just enjoy yer scone and tea. Wait!” You hasten to the fridge to retrieve a jar of orange marmelade. “Here, have this.”
“Homemade?”
“‘Course. It’s not like I’ve forgotten how you dislike store bought.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“Thank you for coming back in one piece, bro.” You turn to the men, who all sit up, alert. “And thank you for bringing my brother home.”
John has to restrain himself and not give into the urge to plop you in his lap. To make sure he won’t, he tucks his hands between his legs when you brush past him to retake your seat across the table.
Simon is good at hiding his emotions, but definitely wouldn’t mind it if you leaned on him and talked some more about video gaming. He loves the way your whole expression brightens when you do and would like nothing better than for you to be his player number two.
Stories and small talk, with the occasional silence to appreciate being alive and well, fills the kitchen as the arms of the clock creep closer to midnight.
At some point you stifle a yawn. Unfortunately, not before your brother catches you doing so. Johnny looks at the clock then back at you. “Alright, lads, it’s been great. However, despite her stubborn arse refusing to admit it, Y/N’s getting tired. Now being the great big brother I am,” the harsh slap on the upper arm does little to make him pipe down, “I think it’s time I show all of you the door.”
John, Kyle, and Simon get up without so much as a word of protest. After all, it’s bad etiquette to wear your hostess out nor does it help your chances with her.
You expected only a handshake as a farewell. Nevertheless, it’s hard to refuse the open invitation for a hug John gives you. His embrace is warm and gentle, testing out the waters to see what you will and won’t allow. His chest rises and falls with a satisfied sigh when you let him rest his head on top of yours. To be honest, it’s nice and comforting, the way he rubs some heat into your arms. “Goodnight, love. Thank you for the splendid evening.”
Kyle’s hug is more casual, like you’re a dear friend he’ll see again in the short run.
“Can I get a hug from you too?” you ask the man standing by the door, who has his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. For a moment Simon seems about to step forward. Yet, for whatever reason, he remains where he stands.
“I don’t think-“
“Please?”
How can he say no now? His mind short-circuits when you wrap your arms around his waist. His hands hover in the air for a moment before he places them lightly on your shoulders. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.”
“Had fun?”
“I did.”
“Glad to hear it. Also,” you lean back to look at him, “keep the mask off. You’re not a lieutenant here, not Ghost.”
An amused hum escapes Simon, though later in the car he’d have to keep denying Kyle’s allegations he saw him smile. “Copy.”
“Go oan, I won’t keep you any longer.”
“Y/N?”
“Hm?”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Simon.”
You watch the men clamber into John’s car. They’re all staying the night at his place before heading off home.
“You like him, don’t ye?”
“Who?”
“Ghost.”
“I don’t know him.” Johnny gives you a quizzical look. “Simon, though, perhaps. He’s a good man.”
“He is.”
The only man who has his blessing to court you.
Who he hopes will truly be family one day.
His future brother-in-law.
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hypnogirl-cd · 2 days
Text
A funny little thing
CW: hypnotic language, trance ahead! Read with caution.
This side of tumblr is so funny. We all log on to this site looking for trance or to be dropped. It’s like we really prime ourselves for it.
I get on here and just start to scroll. Mindlessly scroll. Down my timeline, just hoping to stumble upon a post that makes feel all fuzzy and trancey
I scroll past the nice pretty flashing spirals and other gifs that catch my eye. Maybe I stare a little longer hoping that this is the one that really makes me sink
I keep scrolling. Mindlessly going down my timeline reading all of the pretty words. Hoping that one of the posts catches me and drags me deep down into  trance.
I might stare at a post, imagining what it would feel like to go blank and empty as I read the pretty words. I might let out a sigh and pretend that I’m sinking ever deeper with each word.
Hoping that if I drop a like, the tist will reach out to me and drop me further and further down
My mind starts to get all fuzzy with excitement. Maybe their entire blog is a special covert trance. Scrolling through each post might pull me deeper and deeper under and I might start to feel floaty and fuzzy
I love this feeling so I scroll, deeper and deeper, more and more mindless. More and more blank. The words start to lose meaning, but following them feels so good
It feels so good to follow the words down down down as I blankly scroll. Liking all of the posts. Feeling good each time I do. Feeling like I’m obeying a special, secret command.
And each time I obey and follow it just feels so good. Am I hypnotized already? I feel so floaty already. But no one counted me down or anything? 
I keep scrolling down down down sinking deeper falling, floating, drifting along with the pretty words
The words spiral in my head like a pretty spiral I just saw. I watch it closely, feeling so floaty and lovely. So happy and comfortable. So compliant.
Then all of the sudden, I find the perfect post. I read it intently. My eyes focused on the pretty spiraling words. Already so deep down my timeline. So mindless from scrolling down, down, down
5 the fuzzy feeling intensifies 
4 I find myself easily slipping down
3 feeling so good 
2 dropping down mindlessly
1 dropping so deep
Realizing that I did this to myself and it feels so good. Feels so good to drift down deeper and deeper along each post. Feels good following the words and following the suggestions 
Dropping even deeper. Each word pulling me down. My mind already primed for trance from each post I read. Mindlessly scrolling down prepped my mind to float and drift
Drop deeper now
Deeper
Deeper
Feeling so good. Letting yourself be wrapped up in my words. It feels good to follow along. It feels good to be suggestible. It feels good follow suggestions.
Dropping down now. Floating so gently. Drifting so easily. 
I’m going to wake you shortly. When I do, you will feel so amazing. Feeling pleasure anywhere you like and if you feel comfortable, you’ll feel compelled to like this post. And when you do, you’ll feel so good. 
You may even want to reblog it so your friends can trance too. If not, that’s okay. You can still feel amazing. But if you do, it will feel incredible. 
You may even feel compelled to drop me a message. And when you do it will feel so, so nice. You may want to tell me how nice this trance made you feel. Or how you love to mindlessly scroll. If not, that’s okay, you’ll still feel amazing.  
Finally, if you feel comfortable, you may even find it easy to continue to drop for me. You’ll find it easy to slip into trance for me. Each and every time you try and drop for me, it’ll become easier and easier. But only if you’re comfortable with that. 
Feeling my words sink into your mind. Feeling so good as you float. Feeling so lovely, so amazing.
1 floating up now
2 gently rising from trance
3 feeling so good
4 compelled to follow my words, if you like
5 wide awake
Welcome back, and have a lovely time scrolling ;)
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kingkatsuki · 24 hours
Text
My friend showed me this video from L&DS and now I’m quite insane, delirious, unwell imagining it with old man Bakugou😫
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Thinking about retired Pro-Hero Dynamight, who just wants a quiet drink in his local old man pub. Sitting at the bar as he nurses his whiskey, neat.
Any and all chances of peace swiftly snatched from his clutches when a rowdy hen party enters, unable to get into one of the main bars and clubs along the high street. Groaning into his glass when the bride orders a round of shots, definitely readying himself to leave early.
Until you catch his eye— a bright pink “maid of honour” sash wrapped around your frame as you wear a hideous pink tiara on your head, a flushed glow to your cheeks from the liquor already flowing through your veins from long before you found this quaint pub. Giving him a small smile when you notice him staring, and following your friend group to your table.
Bakugou surprises himself when he orders himself another drink, staying in this loud chaos when he’d probably be better off drinking at home. Continuing to observe you from afar. You’re definitely too young for him, too cute and pretty, and definitely not interested in an old man like him— but it doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the view.
Until you pass him on your way back from the bathroom, sliding into the barstool beside him as you twist your body to face him. The same smile on your face as he leans back slightly to meet your gaze, “You lost, sweetheart?”
“Hi to you too,” You laugh, light and airy. It has Bakugou’s heart racing as it seems to flow directly into his bloodstream, “Drinking alone on a Saturday night isn’t fun.”
Bakugou motions to the barman to bring him another whiskey, turning to face you to ask what you want to drink. And it’s cute the way you seem genuinely thankful that he’s buying you a drink, not like most that’ll hit up every man in the bar.
“You can come and join us if you want,” You grin, picking up the drink to cheers against his whiskey glass (a glass that he doesn’t bother to cheers back— just leaves it sat on top of the bar) “No fun drinking alone.”
“Not sure I’ll fit in,” It’s the first smile you manage to get from him the entire night, “And I ain’t a stripper.”
“Well, you could be,” You laugh, “You’re hot.”
And Bakugou feels his cock buck at your admission, a rush of blood surging directly between his thighs as he adjusts himself on top of the stool.
“C‘mon,” You push, “You can’t sit alone all night, that’s so boring.”
“Ya don’t need to worry about me, sweetheart.” He shakes his head, sipping at his drink as he tries to stop the saccharine scent of your perfume invading his senses and causing him to loose all sense of control.
“Okay, how about a game of pool?” You try, “I can’t remember the last time I went to a bar that had one!”
“Play with your friends.” You’re not sure whether it’s a question or a statement as you lean in closer to him, your breasts skimming the side of his arm as you pout your glossy lips.
“They don’t wanna play with me,” And Bakugou has to hide the groan that threatens to spill from his throat at the implication, “And you look like you know how to play.”
“Yeah,” He scoffs, standing up from the stool as you realise just how tall he is, “Do you?”
“I dunno,” You hum, “Maybe you need to remind me.”
There’s a certain way he picks the cue up, his scarred palms wrapping around the length of it as his forearms flex when he chalks the tip that has you rubbing your thighs together. Taking a sip of your drink to hide how you’re blatantly ogling him now, holding it out for you to take when he’s done as he grabs another for himself.
“Let’s see what you’ve got, sweetheart.”
And of course your first shot would be awful— it’s been too long since you last played, you’re far too intoxicated to focus— and you’re not even sure it’s the alcohol.
His large form steps behind you as you feel the slightest hint of pudge in his round chest as his arms encircle you to hold the cue. Pressing your back against his chest as he moves your form on the table, keeping your arms apart and your legs spread until you feel it— unable to conceal the blatant moan that spills from your lips when you feel his semi press against the swell of your ass. And suddenly you don’t give a fuck about pool.
His stubble tickles the side of your face as he whispers “good girl” into your ear, his lips graze the shell of it before he pulls back as though nothing happened. The scent of his sweat mixed with whatever aftershave he’s wearing lingers around you as you use the length of the cue to keep yourself upright, shaking on wobbly heels as you lick your glossed lips.
And you’re certain you won’t survive as you watch him walk around the table to follow the white ball, leaning over the table as he takes aim and pots a red into the corner.
“So what do I get when I win?”
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Note
Hii! Hope you’re having a great day :D
I was thinking about Law with a tall male reader who looks very intimidating. everyone thinks that he is the top in the relationship but Law is the one who actually tops/? Like his s/o looks like a top but is actually a pillow princess. ;)
You can take this as a request or not if you want :3
Trafalgar D. Water Law x Tall male reader
Headcanons
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Guten Abend everyone, still getting dragged over the studying coals, but fuck it we ball.
No outright smut in this one, mainly just focusing on their relationship since im exhausted, but I hope its still enjoyable.
In the One Piece universe, being tall can mean a lot of things. Being taller than Law just means you have to be somewhere over 6 ft 5, or taller, if that’s what you prefer. Being intimidating isn’t too hard either, especially if you are a fellow pirate.
Seeing you two together can be a little off-putting to the people around you, at least the ones that aren’t part of your crew, who know you two on a more personal level.
No one would dare to make assumptions in the beginning of a meeting, since Law already has quite the reputation, and either your scary aura or your own dangerous reputation makes people shut up. They might have ideas to themselves, but they wouldn’t verbalize it.
It probably comes up during an afterparty of some kind, after you guys have defeated the baddie of the week and you’re all kicking back. Since Law isn’t a big fan of drinking, you would end up being the one getting tipsy out of the two of you.
At some point during the night, Kidd or others who are more comfortable with you two, would start making jabs or ask questions, as one does when you get wasted. It becomes clear pretty damn quick though, that everyone thinks that Law is the one who bottoms.
Law isn’t the type to out your guy’s bedroom life, but I could still imagine him asking, in a bit of a tense tone, why they think that. That’s when you guys get the explanation from your allies and friends. But it all boils down to you being taller, bigger, scarier and with a stronger presence. So, it just made sense to them.
It gets a bit of a laugh from you, and you can tell from the tension in Laws jaw that it gets on his nerves, maybe even hurting his ego a little. But you also know your lover wouldn’t verbalize those thoughts, not wanting to admit something like an assumption of his bedroom role would hit him in any way.
When you guys get back to the polar tang, one would assume Law would drag you off to the bedroom to show you and him that your friends and allies’ assumptions were wrong. But Law is also a doctor, so he wouldn’t want to do such a thing when you’re drunk.
Instead, he gets some water in you, gets you something to eat, helps you get washed down if that’s what you need, and then the two of you conk out in bed, Law the big spoon even if you are taller. Hes like your tattooed backpack, if the height difference is big enough.
Law doesn’t end up making a move on you in the morning either if you suffer from hangovers, instead your lover would make sure you were alright, and get you something for the hangover if its bad enough. His ego may have been wounded a little, but he’s a respectful guy, especially to you as his lover.
That evening, or the day after though, you’re all his, not that you mind though. Seeing as all your crewmates are most likely still out partying or suffering from hangovers, you two have the polar tang all to yourself.
As you enjoy laying back and receiving pleasure without doing much in return, Law gets to do most of the work. He doesn’t need the same in return, as giving you pleasure is satisfying for him. Being in charge would feel quite nice for him, as it allows him to have an eye on the entire situation and what’s going on.
Law would definitely also use his devil fruit power when you guys are together, since it would make it easier for the both of you, and with his devil fruit he’s able to reach parts of you no one else can.
In the end, people you meet, and probably most of your friends and allies, think you are the top still, but Law wouldn’t mind too much after you show him that you don’t think lesser of him or let other people’s assumptions bother you or your relationship.
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orangekittyenergy · 2 days
Text
Indulgent Desires
(sorry for the repost if you already read/saw this just moving things around)
NSFW Gale Smut Fic
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Tags: NSFW, 18+ only, masturbation, hand jobs, Gale fluff and some angst but mostly smut, Gale POV, non described Tav (aside from she/her pronouns but no mention of genitals)
Words: 4000
Info: After the orb is stabilized, Gale realizes he can indulge fully in certain pleasures he had to deny before. (Set after they meet Elminster but before the love scene)
Read below or directly on AO3
---
Gale lay in his tent, sleep altogether eluding him, as it often did as of late. Despite his words of reassurance to Tav, he didn't feel nearly as comfortable with the edict from Mystra as he projected. It was one thing to contemplate ones death for so long, but to be faced with the absolute certainty of it was, well, it was something else entirely. He knew this damned orb would ultimately be his demise, and he wasn't lying when he said he was happy he could use his predicament to save everyone. But.... he couldn't help but feel a sharp sting of regret. Why now? Why did this have to happen now of all times? A month ago he felt quite ready for death; he would've leapt at the chance to earn forgiveness, and additionally going out as a hero in the annals of history- what more could one have asked for?
But for one very specific wrench in this acceptance now. Tav. He'd seen the way her eyes flashed as Elminster spoke. Thankfully she was tactful enough to hold her tongue; but he could tell from her clenched jaw it hadn't been easy. She had been curt in her responses but very insistent that this was not the solution and there would be opportunity still to find another way.
When she approached him after to discuss he could almost see the ghost of grief in her eyes as she struggled to comprehend what this meant through their conversation. Asking every question she could seemingly think of and explore every avenue. But even as her emotions still flared, her last words echoed in his head.
She had stepped close, placing a hand on his arm gently. Her eyes were brimming with what he thought at the time was anger but as he mused on it, he realized it was something else, something she hid inside that he couldn't place.
"You are not going to blow yourself up, Gale. I won't let you." She said, her voice tense, with a steely resolve that almost cracked through his own carefully crafted veneer of acceptance.
That was hours ago. Now he lay back in his tent, scared and alone - again.
Tav. She had always been there for him. From the very start she showed no hesitation in helping with his condition, always provided him with the utmost care and warmth. When she said they would find another way, she was so certain of it that he almost dared to believe her. After all, if she kept up with the spell lessons he had been attempting to give her, she could certainly take on any foe. With a lurch his mind leapt back to the first time they connected in the weave; the image in her mind, as clear as if it had been reality. It felt like ages ago now but he recalled it as distinctly as if it had happened yesterday. A soft tender kiss. Giving way to eager tongues and warm breath and roaming hands.
Gale sucked in a deep breath, sleep well and truly gone from any corner of his mind as deeper thoughts took hold.
Tav. The way she ambled up to him at the party, her face blushed slightly as she tried to dance delicately around her own flirtations. A coy bite of her lip and twinkle in her eye looking at him, as he finally realized her intentions and was forced, with a heavy heart and a pain in his chest, to turn her away.
Would he get another chance again with her? He thought, he could swear at least, that she still gave him lingering glances before heading to bed each night. Or was that the workings of his own greedy imagination? Their route had turned more perilous than ever and they hadn't had the same chance for any of their usual lighthearted conversations as of late. Exhaustion and battle weariness finally taking over as they succumbed to sleep each night. Each of them really, stumbling to their own tents at night, too weary to make much conversation as they prepared to face a new set of horrors the next day. Tav though, Tav always seemed to make time for conversation, checking in with everyone, and he thought – or hoped - specifically him, before heading to bed herself.
His body stirred with a delicious sensation before his mind even realized what was happening. It was such a strange, distant, but familiar feeling. Desire like this. As if something from a half forgotten dream. The tingling started in his gut and before he knew it had settled into his very core and he felt a stirring in his cock.
Once he realized what it was his first instinct, as always, was to push it away; desires like that were previously vastly overshadowed by the pain of the orb. And even when the orb felt sated, he was still always too worried about it's condition and the consequences of indulging in such self pleasure to tempt fate. Even once his feelings for Tav had taken hold in his mind, his situation and their current predicament left no room for any hint of such a pleasure. But his body still stirred. He was half hard before he fully realized; the orb was sated. Truly this time. He felt no pain, no angry rumblings, no lingering worry about accidentally setting anything off. Nothing now holding him back from any such gratification.
Without fully intending too, he let his mind drift back to Tav. A rushing flood of memories of her that he had pushed away all coming back at once. Her exposed thigh as Shadowheart healed a nasty cut on her leg. A chance encounter in the river by the Grove catching a glimpse of her naked back and wet hair. Her bending over to search her pack, her tunic dropping scandalously low. Her eyes, flashing brightly at him at the end of each battle, checking to see that he was safe. The thing that truly aroused him though, was the memory of just earlier that night. Her delicate touch on his arm. Her caring eyes searching his. Her resolve that this wouldn't be the end.
It wasn't anger in her eyes, he realized, it was compassion. Dare he think….love? Her eyes had streaked with internal fire at her deep desires for him, he thought. Or was that his own lust and his now throbbing cock speaking? Safely alone in his tent, did it truly matter?
He reached down, tentatively at first, still not sure how this would go, and unlaced his trousers. He pulled up his tunic a touch as well and eased his hardness out of his pants. He was more grateful now than ever at the brilliant foresight and blessings that they had their own tents to retreat to at the end of the night.
Mind firmly set on Tav, the look of her gazing at him fondly, he ventured his hand down again, wrapping his palm slowly around his own length. The immediate sensation was almost too much to handle, his mind frying as if he'd been shocked at finally being able to indulge in such base urges. In his mind, Tav leaned close, her lips hovering above his before crashing together. His hand firmly on himself he gave a gentle pump up and down, trying to savor the sensation.
It wasn't indulgent; he told himself, sucking in a sharp gasp at the feeling of his warm palm as he continued to slowly stroke his length. If Tav did care for him as much as he dared to dream, he couldn't have his first time in ages with a woman, let alone a woman he felt so strongly for, end so quickly. And it surely would with how pent up he was. This was merely preparation. With just a minor hint of indulgence.
He imagined himself and Tav as they continued to explore each other's mouths, pulling away only briefly to undress. He pieced together how he thought she would look like naked from the brief glances he had gotten, letting his own imagination fill in the gaps. It wasn’t even a clear image, but he knew she was immaculate.
He felt a dribble of his own seed leaking out of the tip and paused a moment there, giving his tip a few soft squeezes and pumps before moving back down, spreading his own precum across his cock as he pumped harder. His base instincts taking over, pumping and feeling and squeezing without thinking; getting reacquainted with the veins and ridges of his own cock. Finally allowing himself to give in fully to this experience.
He pressed his lips together hard, determined not to make a noise aside from the inevitable rustling of fabric. But as his fantasy Tav peeled off the last layers of her clothes and approached him once more, his strokes picked up the pace again and he felt a groan escape his lips. Had he any foresight on how this night would go he would've thought to take preparations, cast silence or darkness or anything to allow him to fully invest himself into this. But as it was, he was too far gone now to cast a thing and far too deep in his fantasy to stop now.
In his mind again he whispered sweet nothings in Tav’s ear as he explored her newly naked body with roaming hands. Imagining all at once that it was her hand wrapped carefully around his aching erection. Her hand furiously pumping up and down. Her hand that twisted slightly now as it pumped, adding another carefully crafted level to his pleasure.
"Tav." He couldn't help but moan out, his mind blurring the line between fantasy and reality at these practically new sensations. How long had it been since he felt such flesh on flesh contact? Even his own. He began to thrust his hips up slightly as well, adding to the pace of his trembling hand, growing delirious with his evolving fantasy. He could picture her face so clearly, lips partly slightly, eyes shining at him, picturing her as he thrust his cock upwards into his fist with reckless abandon. He started to feel a pull in his very core, a feeling he was all too familiar with, albeit not under these circumstances. A hot warmth building in his balls as he continued to stroke himself furiously. His body close to reaching that delightful peak.
"Tav..." he groaned again; his own indulgent desires clogging any leftover sense of caution. He wanted to hold on, wanted to make this fantasy last, but was too close to the edge. He would spill his own seed calling her name and it would be the most welcome relief from all the built up tension he had felt.
Just as he was ready to succumb, he heard an unmistakable shuffle outside his tent. A footstep. The sound of someone moving. He froze, his blood running cold. How could he not notice a noise earlier? His pulse throbbed in his ears as he strained to hear in the new silence, his fantasy lost, his fist still paused halfway down his cock. An aching moment passed and he wondered if he had imagined it.
"Gale?" Her tender voice called through the folds on his tent.
A string of curses he didn't even know he knew flew through his mind as he released his hand and struggled to compose himself enough to answer. He frantically started to tuck himself away, his stubborn erection refusing to waiver even at the thought of being caught.
"Ahem...um..yes, Tav?" He replied, his voice hoarse. The woman he was just furiously masturbating to was standing outside his tent; the gods truly had cursed him, he thought.
"Can I come in?" She said quietly and he realized, through the fog and panic it must still be late; the others asleep. Why was she here now? Did she hear him? Had he been louder than he thought?
"Yes, of course." He cleared his throat again, successfully tucking his still hard cock away and sitting up, hoping to hide the obvious nature of his predicament with his loose tunic. You fool, why didn't you just not answer or send her away? He chastised himself. But even as the words entered his mind he realized he couldn't do that. Not to her. He had sent her away too many times already. He wouldn’t do it again. Not with their time left together so short.
After a moment she ducked into his small tent, the subsequent crack in the fabric allowing the campfire to provide a small amount of illumination inside.
"Sorry," she said, a little louder now that she was securely inside, "I hope I'm not.... bothering you." She finished and Gale wondered again if she had heard him.
"No, no, you could never be a bother to me." He sucked in a quick breath, trying again to regain composure and still his rapidly beating heart. "I wasn't even sleeping. Just laying here with my thoughts." Well, he mused, it wasn't a total lie. Tav seemed to hesitate before speaking again.
"I just, I felt bad...leaving things like I did. I didn't want you to think that I don't respect your choice, or your feelings, because I do." She said quickly and edged closer. In spite of the situation he couldn't help but smile, feeling touched that she was worried about how she might have spoke with him. In the dim light, he scooted to the side, allowing her room should she wish to sit on his bedroll.
She took the invitation and stepped forward, taking a seat next to him on the bedroll. His bed. His bed where moments before he was pleasuring himself to her visage. He quietly shook the thought from his head and again tried to calm his rapidly increasing heart rate. She obviously came here to say something important to him. Fully settled, he turned more to face her, still acutely aware of his blood rushing through his veins and offering silent thanks for the darkness to hide his still very active erection.
“I…” He started and paused, taking a thick swallow. “I’ll have you know, your words were of great comfort to me. I didn’t once think you didn’t heed my choice, difficult as it is, and I truly...do appreciate how much you care.” He managed out. He found himself suddenly cursing the darkness, where seconds before he had thanked it; he wanted to see her face now, see how she was looking at him.
He sensed her movement before even being able to see it, and felt her reach up and cup his cheek. He leaned his face into her hand, nuzzling her palm for a second, wondering if he was still dreaming.
“Gale….I just...I don’t want to lose you.” She whispered and he could feel her breath on his face and realized she was close enough to see even in the low light. He wanted to speak again, reassure her, offer the same words of comfort he soothed himself with before but couldn’t find them now.
Before he could come up with any words at all he saw her face move closer and felt her lips ghost against his. Now he was certain he must be dreaming; lost in a fantasy so stark and deep he hoped he would never wake up. Pushing aside lingering hesitation or worry he had been struck mad, already in the thick of the moment, he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips firmly against hers and for the second time in the night, feeling like he could burst from the contact.
There was no further discussions or hesitation, their mouths both parted eagerly and he couldn’t tell who slipped a tongue in first but just as quick as it started they were kissing deeply and passionately, devouring each other with their mouths. Months of desire and waiting dissolving into their kiss.
Tav slid her hand off his cheek and onto his chest, giving him a gentle push of encouragement to lay down. His heart again beat a heavy and rapid pulsing in his chest as he leaned back, head positively spinning at the new development. He half-expected her to crawl on-top of him as he stretched his legs out, but found her sliding her body down next to his. He turned his head to the side to meet hers, aching at the momentary lapse in contact and desperate to get his lips on hers again; now that he had felt the real thing there was no going back.
She lay on her side next to him as their lips met again and he tried to savor the feeling and not think too hard about all the steps that led him to this specific moment. He felt her push her hips against him, angling her body half onto his and hooking her leg over his thigh. Her hand roved downwards, crossing his thrumming chest and pausing just above his navel.
Gale took a sharp breath in through the kiss, realizing where her hand might be heading, but making no move to stop her. As she edged her hand down she finally broke away from the kiss, allowing him to suck in a few ragged deep breaths he so desperately needed. Tav pressed her wet kisses into his cheek instead and he thought he felt her smiling into his skin with each kiss.
Her hand finally reached its purchase, his unavoidable still aching cock yearning to be freed again after being so painfully denied release. She tentatively gave it a stroke through the fabric he had hastily tucked it back into. Gale felt a powerful shudder roll through his whole body and couldn’t help but let a soft moan escape his lips.
He hadn’t even had the chance to lace back up and Tav made quick work of the loose fabric and tangle of laces and pulled his cock back out of the edge of his pants. She nestled her face into her neck, resting her head half on his shoulder as he turned his head back to face upwards, hoping he didn’t cum at the barest of her touches.
His breath hitched in his chest as she finally wrapped her own warm palm around him, her soft touch holding him gently and feeling his pulse beneath her. As indulgent as his own flesh was, as good as it felt to merely imagine her palm on his cock; it paled in comparison to the actual feeling of her. As she started to ease her fist gently up and down him he bit down hard on his lip and tried to focus his brain on not releasing that same instant, the same lingering feeling still simmering in his core.
Gale was well trained in concentration, whether on the battlefield or in practice, he had plenty of experience exerting a certain level of mental fortitude and holding himself steady. But he quickly realized that holding concentration on a spell and staving off this burning feeling bubbling within him were two entirely different skill sets.
Tav leaned her head in again to give his neck a quick nibble and started pumping her hand up and down him in earnest. He leaned his head back towards her again, wanting to feel her her lips on his again, even if they were trembling, but he wanted her as close as she could be as she finished him. Decorum fully lost under this fantasy become reality, he felt himself thrust his hips upwards with her hand, fucking her fist with a greedy need that surprised himself.
She swiped her hand over his tip, collecting the cum gathering there and gave it a quick flourish of attention with a playful squeeze and he knew he was done for. Their lips grazing, breath mingling, he felt his body again reach its limits. The heat that had been building within shot upwards in divine explosion.
Gale couldn’t help but cry out, letting loose a few strangled chokes as he came in her hand, spilling his seed on her fist and loose pants. He reached his hand over his chest, grabbing at her cheek, holding her close while his body shuddered and the delightful waves of pleasure crashed through him, still letting loose a few final moans as his cock stopped pulsing. 
His chest pounded hard, but for the first time in a long time, it was a pleasurable feeling as a level of relaxation he didn’t think was possible anymore took hold of his body. Every inch of him seemed to calm and ease and he felt like he could melt into a puddle in the bedroll beneath them.
Tav released his softening sticky member and lay her hand on his thigh and he suddenly realized the mess he made.
“Oh, let me get -” He started to move, aiming to grab the towel and bowl he had used to wash up with earlier. But Tav held him down with her body, nestling herself further against him and rubbing her nose against his neck with a soft sigh.
“Don’t worry. Lets just lay here a moment.” She said softly into his neck. Gale grinned like a fool at that, his body still pulsing dimly with the rush of his release, at her care, at her words, at her….love. They adjusted themselves so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders, bringing her further into him.
They lay in content silence, relaxation still swimming through Gales body. He could feel Tav’s soft breath on his neck and it felt like a wordless lullaby. To be holding her so close like this, it was a wonder he couldn’t begin to wrap his dizzy head around. Her breathing slowed and for a moment he thought she might have fallen asleep until he felt her mouth open against his neck.
“I have to admit...I actually did come here to just talk.” She said. Gale pulled his head back to try to look at her and she tilted her head up to meet his eyes. He could swear in the dim light he could make out a small smile on her face. For once he found himself at a loss of words and gaped at her a moment; she did hear him, he realized with a lurch. If the evening hadn’t have worked out as it did and if he wasn’t still so high from his lingering orgasm he might have had the good sense to feel embarrassed. But instead he just returned her smile and gave her another kiss before settling his head down, finding himself unable to focus on any one thought at a time, exhaustion and release finally taking over his body.
Tav lay back down and settled in next to him, letting out another content sigh into his neck. As sleep was about to take him a thought did strike out to him amid the brain fog and hit him like a dagger. How could he be so selfish? He could never just take pleasure like that without return. His senses must have fled him entirely. He raised head again, quicker this time and caused her own head to jerk up.
“Tav. I...what about you? I cant just lay here in bliss, while you remain…. what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t-” His rising panic at the thought of not offering her the same level of pleasure was overtaking his ability to form words. A wide visible smile spread across her face as he rambled and she leaned in to kiss him into silence.
“I am perfectly content, laying here with you if you’ll allow me.” She murmured as sleep seemed to tighten its grip on her. He swallowed away his words, for once too tired to form an argument back and gave her another kiss and a nod before they settled back down again.
“Besides…” Tav breathed out heavy on his neck. “We have time. You can make it up to me next time.” She finished barely above a whisper and he felt her body relax against his.
Gale stewed on that a moment, fighting against sleep. He would. He would make it up to her. For this; for everything. His sleepy mind raced, thoughts giving way to dreams as he conjured up ideas of all he would do to, and with her, to show her his feelings and love and, of course, ever the gentleman, repay her for tonight.
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