somedayillbepeterpan · 11 hours ago
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on today's rewatch: S3E7 [Joining of hands]
I haven't done a good job in putting out original content for the past few months and I blame my new job entirely 😂 It's so intense, it turns my brain into mush most days.
I'm 68% functional right now so if my ramblings don't make sense, I apologise.
Today, I am thinking of Colin's retreating back after he discovered the Pen was LW.
(Colouring this gif is so hard. It's so dark 😭 I wish I was better at this.)
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I don't know why I'm locked in on Colin's back.
On him walking away.
On his coat billowing as it matches the force of his steps. I have a thing for people's footsteps or way of walking because I often think about how I walk and how it represents what I'm feeling at the moment. My many, many rewatches offered me the realisation that there isn't a lot of full body shots of Luke Newton for S1 and S2 nor are walking shots. If there are full body shots, he's with Nicola so your attention is split.
I read a meta somewhere that book!Colin canonically loves walking so much so that he would endure the rain to help clear his thoughts.
I always thought that this walk was more heartbroken than angry. He walked away because his heart was breaking into pieces. But I also think that he walked away because of his love for her.
I know that the last thing he says to Pen in this scene is that he will never forgive her but I also think that he was talking more to Lady Whistledown than to Pen because at this point, they are still separate in his mind.
Clearly, this walk is the hardest to understand and has been part of heated debates of what canonically would Colin really do (this being compared to the source material aka book!Colin). I don't want to broach that debate too much because I would've done the same as Colin (as someone who is an introverted demisexual empath who value the words that come out of my mouth and actions to take but often overthinks them). And these are mere ramblings of a Polin brainrotter.
Now, there are three significant full body walking shots of Colin in S3: Colin's entrance in E1 (the faux swagger), this retreating walk in the early part of E7 (the heartbreak), and the him trying to clear his thoughts in the latter part of the same episode (the drunk, angry yet pensive one).
This walk represents the war that Colin has fought so many times. When his emotions overtake him, he finds himself walking away. I say find because I don't think Colin was self-aware nor mature enough to understand why he walked away. It's why he traveled around, it's what happened to him with Marina, and what he almost did to Penelope. In my head, this very distinctly represents Colin's trauma about his dad's death. His emotions always get the better of him.
This is another thing that I appreciate about Colin and Penelope's relationship-- they helped each other grow. If Penelope didn't have the courage or honestly, the love, to confront Colin when he was about to walk away in the modiste scene, we wouldn't have known the root of Colin's emotional trauma. Of him feeling inadequate and abandoned/betrayed by the people he loves.
On a different side of this debate, this is what separates this relationship to all other relationships that Colin has in his life-- the depth of love and understanding that him and Pen have shared gave them the the power to get out of this situation much, much stronger.
(on a side note, writing this is making me so excited for s4 even though I want to tamper my expectations)
In conclusion, I didn't appreciate the words that came out of Colin's mouth. But on the other hand, I appreciated that he walked away and he didn't do what book!Colin did. While this scene was devastating to watch, I really really appreciate how Colin spent time understanding his emotions about the whole LW situation. I know we all wanted to tear his hair out by the end but love doesn't put a timeline on forgiveness. Nor does it paint a pretty picture.
But time does help in growing yourself better.
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idkhowtopickausername · 6 months ago
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I feel like in the U.S. we should be holding protests against U.S. military trainings in Africa or something. Not that it would convince the U.S. government to stop doing something they’re so heavily invested in financially but it would be a good central message to direct some of the current energy towards and would make more people aware of one of the ways that neocolonialism operates and would hopefully be carried forward into future movements
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lalunanymph · 3 months ago
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𝟏𝟏:𝟒𝟗𝐏𝐌 ─── your husband notices everything about you—even the things you don't notice about yourself
˚୨୧⋆ sylus x wife!reader
˚୨୧⋆ warnings: wife!reader, reader has just given birth a few months ago, jealous sylus!!, pregnancy, implied mentions of a fight, injuries, mentions of b/lood, explicit s/mut, implication of o/ral, teasing, petnames (wife, darling, doll, sweetie), daddy k/ink, breeding, shamelessly self-indulgent AND very selfship-coded :')
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Nothing ever escapes Sylus’ attention. 
Other than cunning resourcefulness being his trademark which many associate with ravens—his favorite bird—another marker of your husband’s personality is that like a hawk, he’s acutely aware of everything.
Tonight’s date night after you’ve given birth to the twins didn’t go exactly as planned.
While Sylus was in a convenience store, buying the both of you drinks to whet off the balminess of the summer evening, you were approached by an obviously drunk man who asked if you were here alone.
After countless times of trying (and failing) to convince him that your husband wouldn’t be too happy about his unwanted advances, the man in question whose ring is around your finger appears, tall and imposing.
Safe to say, the night ended with one bloody nose, and a pair of split knuckles, the latter being the ones you were currently patching up. 
Your husband is reclining back against the plush pillows, black dress shirt unbuttoned slightly and showing off the deep divot of his pecs. His face is a mixture of emotions—anger, frustration, possessiveness, a hint of concern. All coalescing into one tense ball he keeps close to his chest as the adrenaline from the encounter with that sleazebag still hums through his veins. 
You stow your phone back into your purse, sighing.
“I've texted Sara to keep the twins for the night. I think we're both too angry and might say or do something rash.” 
His expression softens and he lets out a sigh, the anger and tension slowly starting to ebb away as he gazes at you.
“... that’s good. I wouldn’t want them to see me in this state.” 
You sigh again, picking up his bandaged hands.
“Y’know, I did tell him my husband was a big, scary man, but he still persisted in demanding a date,” you bring your husband’s knuckles to your lips, kissing the contused flesh softly. 
Sylus grunts, rolling his eyes, though his expression softens at your sweet gesture. “Some people just don’t know when to take a hint… so, I had to make a point.”
You scoff, clutching his hands tighter. “Yes. By socking him in the face. Very classy.”
Instead of appearing reticent like a sane person would, Sylus chuckles. “Didn’t see you complaining when you were cooing all over me, patching up like a good, little wife.”
His words make a flash of heat run through you, and you shoot him an exasperated glare. “Well, at least you looked sexy doing it. Punching that asshole in the face. Consider that compensation for tonight’s turn of events," politely, you add, “Thank you for defending my honor, darling.”
He lets out a low chuckle, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. Crimson eyes darken with a mixture of desire and affection, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips. 
“No need to thank me, sweetie. It’s always a pleasure of mine to defend your honor. No one gets to disrespect you without facing repercussions.” 
You squirm in his lap, hitching a breath when you feel his hands play with the straps of your dress. Slowly, he drags them down, touch hot and insistent as the pads of his fingers graze your bare shoulder.
“Really, Sylus?” You try to look vexed, but the breathlessness his touch incites only fuels him to misbehave further. “Defending me has seriously gotten you all hot and bothered?” 
Your husband grins at your teasing tone, a wicked gleam in his eye as he continues to push the straps of your dress down further, baring more of your skin to his heated stare. His hands continue to explore, tracing over your exposed skin. 
“Hmm. I suppose seeing you in danger… really ignited something in me. Hearing someone insult you and disrespect what’s mine… makes me want to claim you all over again.”
Warmth fills your cheeks, and you fail to fight back a shiver. “T-that doesn’t make any sense.” 
Sylus’ fingers are now trailing your collarbone, tracing the marks he left there from the night before.
“It doesn’t need to make sense, doll. It’s something primal. Seeing you in danger like that… and the look on your face when I punched that idiot senseless… It's titillating. I just want to claim my wife, remind you and everyone else that you belong to me, body and soul and future baby.” 
Heat licks down your spine, and you shudder at his words. 
“F-future baby?” 
Sylus’ hands snake to your bare back, caressing the expanse of skin with soft, ticklish circles. Without warning, he leans in, lips hovering close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
"Yes, doll. Future baby. I'm going to fill you with my seed. Breed you over and over until I'm sure you're pregnant. And in a few weeks, we'll have a mini-us growing in your belly, a physical reminder of my claim on you."
His words are soft and sound almost sweet, but the filthiness in them makes you gasp, involuntarily arching your body into his. 
“Sylus…”
The idea of him claiming you again so boldly after defending you from danger turns you on like nothing in this world can. You know you have much to discuss with him about having another baby, considering you had just given birth to Sabrina and Protus a few months ago. But, in this instance, desire overtakes logic and all you want is to feel your husband deep inside you again. 
His lips are cool when they touch your jugular, trailing down the column of your neck until they reach your heaving chest. 
“Sy…” you whisper, eyes fluttering close. “Stop… teasing me.” 
You want this, he realizes with a jolt. You want this as much as he does. 
He lets out a low chuckle, hands continuing to caress every inch of your skin. 
“Oh, my pretty little doll. It’s not teasing anymore. It’s a promise.” His lips touch your ear, the heat of his breath and words snapping the last of your resolve. “And you know I never break my promises, doll.” 
A whimper slips from your parted mouth. The heat in this room is too much to bear, pressing down on you with the weight of an ocean closing in.
You can barely breathe when you exhale, “Breed me. Please… breed me.” 
Your bastard of a husband grins at your desperate plea, his hands gripping your hips tighter. It’s the predatory confidence of a man who knows he has you completely at his mercy, begging for him to claim you completely. 
“Say it again,” his fingers dance to the hair at the nape of your neck, sinking his fingers into your soft locks and using it to snap your face up to meet his darkened gaze. “Tell me you want me to breed you. Tell me you want to only belong to me.” 
The bite of pain pulls a wanton moan from your trembling lips, and you lose all bearings and composure, giving in to the desire which always leaves you wanting more of him on your knees.
“Oh god... please... breed me, Daddy. Make me yours. P-put a baby inside of me and make me a mama again…” 
Sylus’ eyes darken at your plea, the possessive need flaring in his chest. Those blood-red eyes burn with the desire of keeping and making his promise come true.
“Lay back, sweetie. Go on—there’s a good girl.” His bigger body hovers over you, pressing you into the bed. “Good girl. You're such a good girl, doll. Asking Daddy to breed you, begging to be filled with my seed, to carry my baby. You're mine. Mine to breed, mine to claim. Mine to make you a mommy again."
His words whip through you like an electric shock. You gasp, eyes fluttering and body arching further into his touch. 
“Please… yes…” 
As much as his self-control is reaching its breaking point, he needs to hear the words coming straight from your mouth; his grip on your hips tighten, eyes darkening with possessiveness. 
"You want this, doll? You want Daddy to fill you up—make sure you're pregnant with my baby?"
Your nod is equal parts desperation and desire. You lick your lips, nodding.
“Yes,” your whisper is like a bullet tearing through his chest, leaving it hot and stinging with pure need. “Yes, I want it so badly.”
Sylus groans, your words igniting the unquenchable thirst inside of him to make you his, his, his. 
Tearing the flimsy dress off your frame, he digs his fingers into your hips, mouth leaving a burning trail of kisses and bites across your neck, your jaw, your chest. 
Your hands grapple at his clothing, pulling off his expensive, tailor-made button-down and slacks, reaching into the heart of him to expose him fully to your lustful gaze. 
He sucks and licks on your nipples until they become all puffy and swollen just for him, and the second you tell him you can’t take it anymore, Sylus stakes his claim by sinking inside of you—inch by delicious inch.
Your pretty, milky pink nails stab into his shoulders, dragging down red lines across the pale expanse of his back. Your heels dig into his hips, and the way you’re desperately clinging onto him, makes him wonder if you want to fuse your body as one with his. 
“Sy… Sylus…” 
Fuck. He digs his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck, strong hips snapping forward, giving you one powerful thrust after another. Your walls suck him so perfectly, like you were made for him. 
He fills you up over and over again, until every load becomes more painful. But, you can't get enough. You keen, beg, and cry for more, milking his promise to make you a mama again for what it’s worth.
Hours seem to pass, ravaging passages of time that are marked by more cum filling you; his shuddering, animalistic groans for you take it darling, take it all, take all of me like music to your ears.
Sylus collapses on top of you, breathing hard and red in the face. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, his hand coming to rest gently on your stomach, caressing the soft skin with shaky fingers.
“Mhm… you’ll be the death of me one day, you know that, sweetie?” 
Giggling, you use what remains of your strength to twine your arms around his shoulders. The both of you stay like this for a while, slowly coming down from the high.
Briefly, your hand grazes your belly, and you wonder idly if what he promises has come true—if his seed has already taken.
Sylus, ever keen and observing, chuckles. It’s like he knows exactly what you're thinking. Planting a gentle kiss on top of your head, his voice is low and tender.
“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, sweetie. I have a feeling you're already pregnant with my baby."
Your eyes widen, and you give him a shock look. 
Stammering, you say, “How do you know?” 
But, you should know this is Sylus you’re talking about. Mastermind of the N109 Zone. The leader of the most notorious organization alive. 
He’s always two steps ahead of you, seeing what you can’t see, anticipating what you can’t expect. 
Your husband’s palm drifts down to join yours on your stomach, his hand gently resting on yours.
“Call it a lucky guess… or, intuition. A few little signs here and there. Besides, I'm not letting you out of my sight until you confirm it."
His words make your head spin, and you give him a look of reproachful intrigue.
“A… few signs here and there? What are you talking about?” 
Sylus nods, his touch reverent and tender. 
Without caring for your astonishment, he lays down his observations like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Your scent has been different, sweeter, a little intoxicating. Your body is more sensitive, more responsive to my touch. And there's a glow about you, a soft flush on your cheeks, a sparkle in your eyes. It's subtle, but I notice when it comes to you, doll.” 
You gape at him, and without thinking, tighten your grip on your belly.
As if he has a sensor on you, Sylus immediately notices the subconscious gesture.
“Mhm... You've been doing that a lot lately, doll. Touching your belly, caressing your stomach, as if you're already feeling the baby growing inside you. It's adorable, but it's also a bit of a giveaway.”
His tone turns teasing and you flush, flustered beyond measure.
“Wh-what are you? Some kind of werewolf?” You hiss, “How're you so attentive?!”
Your husband chuckles again, amusing himself by brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers gently tracing your jawline.
“It's not a matter of being a werewolf. It's just a matter of paying attention to the woman I love.” His grin turns soft, becoming tender at the edges. “I notice everything about you, doll. Every little detail, every change in your body, every little thing. I can't help it. I can't stop watching you. And you just happen to have a few tell-tale signs right now that are screaming 'pregnant'.”
Pouting, you glare at him churlishly, deciding to challenge him. But, underneath the pomp and bravado is an innate curiosity to see how far your husband’s perception can go.  
“Tell me more then, since I myself don't seem to notice anything.”  
Sylus grins at the sarcasm dripping from your tone, and decides to indulge you. 
“Hmm, you really want to know? Well, here's another one... Your taste has changed, darling. A little sweeter, a little richer. Something I can't seem to get enough of, but it also seems to have gotten stronger lately.” 
You blanch, warmth flushing your cheeks.
“You mean... whenever you eat me out... you noticed my taste? That's...” 
Your speechlessness amuses him, and he chuckles, voice growing deeper, laced with hunger and heat.
“I notice everything about you, remember? Even the smallest changes in your body,” he drawls, glancing at the spot between your thighs. “Especially when it comes to the places I spend the most time on, tasting and exploring... Every. Single. Time.”
He punctuates his words with soft kisses to your neck, flustering you even more.
All you can mutter is a cute, little, “Hmph,” scowling and fanning your cheeks. 
Sylus adores your reaction to his words, and leans in, his lips brushing against your neck, teasing your skin.
“Mhm... why are you scowling at me? Are you embarrassed? Are you... thinking about all the times I've tasted and explored you, doll? I can practically see the memories playing in your head… it's delicious.”
You squeak, slapping a palm to his mouth, feeling like your face is hot enough to explode.
“Sylus!” 
He laughs, though the sound is muffled against your palm. His hand drifts down to your belly again, the gleam in his eyes possessive this time. 
The white-haired devil pries your hand from his mouth, kissing your wrist and placing it back down onto the bed. “Oh, doll. You're just too cute when you're flustered. And it's even cuter when you try to shut me up. It just makes me want to tease you more, Y/N.” 
Emboldened and somewhat foolish, you plaster on your faux confidence, egging him on. 
“Oh, yeah? Well, I think you’re dead wrong.” 
Sylus snorts, finding your foolish certainty endearing. 
“Are you doubting my observation skills? Are you saying I haven't noticed a thing? That I'm not paying attention to the little changes in your body… that I haven't noticed how you're reacting?”
You smirk, nodding. 
“Mhm hmm. I know my body better than you, Sy. You may be my husband, but I’ve been living in this meat suit for years. And I’ll know when I’m pregnant. Besides—” you giggle, enjoying the look of faint amusement spreading across his features. “—I bet you a hundred dollars that if I take a test right now, it’ll come back negative.” 
Sylus cocks a brow, eyes glistening with the challenge. 
You continue, oblivious to his smirk. “My period is due in a week, and I don’t have morning sickness, nor do I have any cravings. Besides, weren’t you the one who said we have to plan our family smarter? Why do you want to be right so badly?” 
Your husband chuckles, enjoying your bold confidence. His grip on your hip tightens, and he kneads the flesh, shrugging. 
“You’re so endlessly fascinating, doll. Yes, I do think we should space out conception times, but I never did say I wouldn't want more babies. Especially when they are living proof of our commitment and love for each other.”
Oh. You swallow hard. When he puts it that way…
But, you’re much too thick headed to give in. 
You cup his cheek, gaze softening, though the spark of a challenge remains in your eyes. 
“Fine. We’ll see who’s right tomorrow.” 
Sylus grabs your hand, enjoying the warmth of your skin with a touch of feral amusement in his crimson eyes. “And if I’m right? What is my reward, doll?” 
Grinning, you tease, “A hundred dollars.”
Your husband tilts his head to the side, as if considering your strange wager.
“... make that a hundred kisses and a dinner, doll. I don’t want your money.” 
Scoffing, you roll your eyes. A hundred kisses and a dinner—that’s easy for you. 
“Fine. We’ll see that I’m right tomorrow, then.” 
Night fades and the next day dawns.
You wake up to an empty bed, sheets rumpled and still warm. Your eyes land upon an innocuous pregnancy kit on the side table, fresh from the store.
Sylus is nowhere to be seen, though you suspect he’s downstairs in the kitchen sipping on a cup of coffee. Not wanting to look like you were chickening out of this bet, you huff and go straight into the bathroom, putting the test to use.
You’re going to win this bet, and Sylus will have to eat his words. There is no way your husband would be correct. All he has is a hunch while you know your body inside and out. 
No singular person in the world, not even the one you share a bed with every night, can claim to predict something as mercurial and unpredictable as a pregnancy which hasn’t happened yet—unless they were a prophet or someone from the world of Dune, you think with a scoff.
The timer goes off and you grasp the test, about to smirk and prance downstairs to show Sylus how far off his observation was, when you come to a hard pause.
“...”
You blink, checking the test and rechecking it again. You look at it closer to the light, scrutinizing the stupid white stick from front to back, wondering if it’s faulty or broken.
A languid knock on the door interrupts your thoughts, and you look up to find your husband leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and an infuriating smirk on his face.
“Go ahead, doll,” he gloats, noticing your reaction, the pallor of shock written all over your face. “Read the result out loud to me.” 
You swallow hard, setting the test down in defeat.
“Impossible.”
But, knowing how competitive your husband can be, he’s not going down without a fight.
“And the result is…?” 
Tossing him a scowl, you throw your hands up in the air, caving in so he can pipe down and just kiss you already. 
“Positive,” you groan, wrapping your arms around him. Sylus responds without a shred of hesitation, grasping your smaller body and holding it tightly to his, secretly elated at this reveal. The ghost of his chuckle brushes your neck.
“Yeah, doll? Say it again. Tell me I’m right.” 
You exhale a watery giggle, tears filling your eyes. The feeling of pure love fills your chest, and you look at him like he’s hung the moon up in your sky.
You’re going to be a mommy again; Sylus has made his promise come true. 
Touching your forehead to his, you breathe in his comforting scent, feeling the softness of his sleeping robe underneath your palms on his chest.
“You’re right, darling. You’re always right,” you whisper, the love you feel for your husband overflowing from your eyes. “It’s positive.” 
Nothing ever escapes Sylus' hawk-like attention, and for that, you love him a little more than you did before.
sydawn lore: we have twins together—a baby girl and a baby boy named sabrina and protus. initially, the scans and tests only picked up sabrina and it was literally on the surgical table when the doctors made a discovery that there was another whole ass baby inside of me (they called it a shadow pregnancy when one twin completely overshadows another) so long story short, we have two babies together with a third on the way :,) ok thx for reading bye !
— reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated !! thank you all for your support <3
© lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my selfship and reproduce it into your own bodies of work. do not translate and share across on other platforms.
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babyleostuff · 1 month ago
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˚ ༘♡ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦
― the moment in which the seventeen members find out their significant other hid their injury from them
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s.coups
first of all - the chance of cheol not knowing you got hurt is this big 🤏🏻 mans somehow knows everything when it comes to you, even if he’s overseas he. still. knows. he would be… i don’t want to say disappointed in you not telling him, because you’re still your own person and he cannot tell you what to do, but… he just cares about you so much, truly. the thought of you hurt or in pain without him knowing is heartbreaking to cheol. he’s a caretaker through and through, especially for his significant other - there’s nothing seungcheol wouldn’t do for them. at the same time, though, he feels so proud to have a partner that is so strong.
jeonghan
the second he finds out you got hurt or injured jeonghan becomes quite passive aggressive. he’s not necessarily angry with you, it’s just that… what wouldn’t you tell him? he’s your boyfriend, he’s supposed to be next to you and care for you when you need it. you do the same for him, so why would you push him away? hannie understands that sometimes you just need your space, and everyone is different when it comes to being sick and in pain, but he’d still be a bit hurt by you not telling him. at the end of the day, he’d try to talk to you, though, and explain why it was so important to him to know.
joshua
it’s not that he’s angry, more like disappointed (all that disappointment, though, doesn’t come from pettiness or anger, but care and love). he gets that people react differently to getting injured, but still - he’s your boyfriend, and a boyfriend that cares a lot at that. shua always respects all of your decisions, no matter what, but when you get hurt and don’t tell him… you might not see it as important enough, but to him, your well-being and comfort is all that matters. he can’t imagine how you must’ve felt going through all of that alone, and yes, he gets that that was what you wanted, but still. 
jun
tries his best not to show how it affects him, when he finds out about your injury, but fails miserably. jun is a bit disappointed that you didn’t tell him first things first, because he’d be more than happy to take care of you (and he’d have the perfect opportunity to be extra clingy). would be unusually pouty and whiny after, waddling after you at any given moment and asking you “why? why didn’t you tell him?”. was it because you didn’t trust him and his caretaker abilities, did you think it wasn’t big enough of a deal to tell him about, or maybe you saw your injury as a burden? he needs to know or else he won’t be able to fall asleep. 
hoshi
you don’t want to keep something as serious as an injury from soonyoung, because the second he finds out you got hurt AND didn’t think about telling him, he gives you the silent treatment + becomes so hard to deal with. he can be petty when he’s in a good mood, so imagine how he’d be behaving after finding out. hoshi gets so frustrated because why wouldn’t you tell him? it’s a whole ass injury, not a scratch, there’s nothing that could excuse you from not telling him. he’s aware he’s not the best with taking care of injuries, but that doesn’t matter he wouldn't do his absolute best. just… tell him next time. 
wonwoo
he can feel his eye twitch when he finds out about your injury. it gets even worse when you tell him it wasn’t that big of a deal and he shouldn't worry. immediate game over for jeon wonwoo. you might think he wouldn’t get as annoyed by it as other members who are more outwardly affectionate… WRONG + he doesn’t consider himself the overprotective type, ALSO WRONG. wonwoo is a man who lives for you and your comfort even if he doesn’t see that himself, so the fact that you didn’t bother to tell him about something as big as an literal injury??? JAIL!!! will cross his arms and stump his feet to make a point. 
woozi
he understands that for you it might be a small thing, your injury, that you don't see it as something important enough to tell him about, but… it’d still kind of hurt jihoon if you didn’t tell him? like, on one hand he’s so enchanted by you because you're so independent and strong and willing to go through your pain alone, but on second he’s your boyfriend. he might not be the most obvious with how he shows his love and physical touch and outward words of affirmation, but he still cares. a lot. he wants to take care of you, he wants to keep you warm and as comfy as he can, so please don’t brush off matters like that. 
dk
at first he’s very confused when he finds out that you got injured, because that can’t be true, right? you’d immediately tell him if you got hurt, 100%. but when seokmin realises that your injury was not a cruel joke he nearly cries. why, why on earth wouldn’t you tell him? and it crushes him so much - you, in pain, without him by your side to hold your hand through it all. he’s quite a mess afterwards, trying to gather his emotions. because he has to get through to you and try to explain how much it hurt him that you didn’t tell him. even if you refuse his help, he just needs to know, that’s all.
mingyu
there’s a hit of annoyance in gyu when he finds out that you got hurt and didn’t tell him. like… you’re well aware of how big of a caretaker mingyu is, and how important acts of service are for him, and yet you decide to hide the injury from him. why? he understands that a part of you might think of yourself as a burden, but he has told you numerous times how happy it makes him when you ask him for help, even with the smallest things. but you’re still pushing him away? it’s just - it’s so gut wrenching when he finds out that you had to suffer on your own and he didn’t know.
the8
huh, so you don’t believe in his healing abilities? hao becomes extremely petty, because no one’s better at being a certified nurse than him (not even a real nurse), and with you not telling him he feels like you don’t trust him enough to take care of you properly. he genuinely likes to take care of his loved ones, he doesn’t mind being the housewife, and he definitely doesn't think you’re a burden because of your injury, so why would you hide it? after he finds out he sits you down and has a talk with you - hao tries to explain his point of view and how it made him feel when you didn’t tell him, and why you shouldn’t hide things like that from him. 
seungkwan
gets so so so petty, oh my god. huh, so you, his girlfriend, didn’t tell him, your boyfriend, you got hurt? you just didn’t? yeah, not on boo seungkwan’s watch. why on earth wouldn’t you call him first things first? he’s your literal boyfriend, it’s his duty and privilege to take care of you, keep you warm and loved, no matter what. and he doesn’t want to hear that “but i don’t want to be a burden” shit, because you. are. not. and you could never be one. so you’re trying to tell him you were hurt and alone while he was living his best life? he’d make sure to talk to you and make you swear you’d tell him next time a situation like that would occur. 
vernon
on one hand he understands that you might not see the injury as something big enough to tell him, like - he has gotten hurt in the past and didn’t tell you either, but… it’d be nice if you did. vernon is not sure why he’s bothered by you not telling him, usually he’s very okay with most of your decisions, but a part of him is scared that the reason you hid the injury is because of you thinking he won’t care. yes, he might not be the best at taking care of people and prefers being the one taken care of, but you’re his partner and vernon will do anything he can to take the best care of you.
dino
his heart drops when he finds out you got injured and didn’t tell him. chan thrives on helping and taking care of his loved ones, he doesn’t care if he has to pull another all nighter just to make someone else happy - he does it with great joy. so when his partner, the apple of his eye, hides their injury from him? it hurts. it hurts deeply. there’s a part of him that feels betrayed, and he cannot help but think if you don’t trust him enough to care for you when you’re in need. chan knows that those thoughts and his reaction are a bit dramatic, but it’s the caretaker in him that just cannot live it down. 
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koenigami · 1 year ago
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not sure if you allow it, but how does wriothesly react when the reader uses their safe word during an intense session?
tags : fem!reader, smut, crying, use of safeword, aftercare, comfort, +18
It's hot in the room, the constant gurgling of the pipes reminding you that WRIOTHESLEY must have turned up the heating higher than usual. Then why is your body shivering, with goosebumps all over your skin? You can't see him, can't hear him because he has barely talked to you ever since he's returned from his office. Yet you feel his large, intimidating form loom over your body from behind. You can't speak, can barely breathe with his constricting hand around your throat that somehow seems to get tighter by every passing second.
He's immune to your whimpers, to the tears rolling down your cheeks. With each forceful thrust of his, you hear the bed creak and feel your knees get weaker, your body loosing strength until you're nothing but a limp toy for him. You want to get up, push him away, but the grip his other hand has on your wrists while holding them behind your back- He's just too strong.
That's when even the last ounce of pleasure leaves your body and you're left with nothing but dread and panic. "Red, p-please." you barely recognise your own voice, hoarse and frightened. "No more, please, red."
The pressure on your windpipes is gone instantly. You realise it, not by the oxygen that is easier entering your airways, no, because you still feel like you're suffocating. You realise it because his warmth is as well gone in an instant. W-Where did he go?
Rough hands are all over your body, yet they treat you with so much care, helping you turn and lie on your back, soothing down your thighs. One of them at last settles on your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing it and wiping the tears away. "Y/n? Sweetheart, you with me?"
You sniffle and press the heels of your palms against your eyes, your chest shaking with more sobs that won't stop racking your body. "I'm sorry, 'm so sorry. I-I don't even know-"
"No, no, don't apologise. There's nothing to be sorry for." Your brain still feels foggy as you finally look over at Wriothesley who's crouching beside the bed, giving you enough space to breathe yet still having his hands all over you, not wanting to let you go. Nonetheless, you're able to notice the tension in his posture, in his facial expressions. "Just try to relax, alright? You're okay now." his hand shifts to your hair, fingers combing through the messy strands until they settle on your scalp, soothingly massaging you there. "You did good. It was too much, wasn't it?"
"Couldn't breathe." you whisper and realise that you feel so small in his presence, but not in an inferior way. Wriothesley may look all brutish and intimidating with a strength that could crush any allegedly impenetrable door in the fortress, but you're well aware that he would never use that strength against people that he cares about. "And, uhm-"
Piercing blue eyes watch as you nervously fiddle with the blanket that he has covered you with. But the little peck he gives you on your shoulder tells you that he wants to let you have a breather and take as much time as you need to sort your thoughts. "You seemed a-angry. You were so quiet and, I don't know. It was..."
"Scary?" he finishes for you, a gentle and reassuring smile plastered on his face that alleviates the pressure on your chest.
"Yeah."
Silence invades the bedroom for a short moment, making you forget that you're miles beneath the water surface, that the room which you share with him belongs to a prison, that a few moments prior your body has been in a fight-or-flight mode. The silence reminds you that you're safe and that all of this, all of him, is home. "Will you come back to bed? And hold me?"
Wriothesley's eyes soften at your request and the timid sound of your voice. "Of course, my love." His knees pop when he eventually gets up, pressing a fleeting kiss on your temple before he picks his pants up from the floor and puts them on. Despite the previous events, you can't help but feel a light heat creep up your neck when you get a sight of his naked buttocks.
"Careful with those wandering eyes. I might think you want to continue where we left off." Wriothesley chuckles when you pull the blanket over your head, a futile attempt to hide your embarrassed expression.
"Come here." the mattress dips beside you and you let him tug the blanket off your head. The warmth and smell of his make you sigh in contentment once he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. "I'm the one who should apologise. I was not aware of how much I was hurting you."
The teasing smirk and brief leisurely attitude are gone, replaced by a seriousness that you usually only get to see when he's handling work related matters. He kisses your face again and again, further silent apologies that he hopes will lessen the pain inside your chest. And his. "I was a little irritated, yes, but that had nothing to do with you. Some inmates got their hands on a few bottles of wine." he explains. "Those drunkards started spewing lots of nonsense when I confronted them about it."
What did they say?" you inquire quietly, your eyes slowly but surely feeling heavier. With a palm against his naked chest, you notice the rapid heartbeat but decide to not give it any mind, since Wriothesley's tender strokes along your back are truly not making it easy for you to stay awake and think straight.
He stops his movements for a short moment, clenching and unclenching his fist as his eyes trail over the red, irritated skin of his knuckles.
"Your grace has turned quite soft." "Your little mouse must be doing a great job in bed, huh?" "Why don't you lend her to us? I'm sure we could teach her a thing or two?"
"Nothing you should worry your head about." his voice is merely a whisper as his lips move against your forehead before he buries his nose in your hair and resumes to trace more soothing shapes on your lower back.
a/n : thank you for your patience, dear anon! hope you'll see this since your request has been sitting for a while in my inbox-
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alnilaem · 9 months ago
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so the neighborhood with butcher!simon is dangerous 🤔🤔
how would he react to reader’s apartment getting broken into while they’re both at home?
i think he would make good use of the meat grinder at the butcher shop if you uhhhh catch my drift
anon your mind!!
it would start as three soft rasps next door, which already stirs Simon’s intrigue. he hears a man’s voice sifting through the corridor, in front of your flat, and poises himself like a dog that’s about to attack.
it’s something about coming to fix leak, and fleetingly, a stint of envy lays hold of Simon. why didn’t you ask him? hasn’t he already made it clear it’s his duty to help you? you’re a woman alone in neglected Manchester. he doesn’t want you asking others for help.
your voice cuts a way through the wall. “I didn’t call for a plumber?” and if Simon’s hackles weren’t raised, if he wasn’t acutely aware, he would have cooed at the confusion distorting your voice.
the plumber presses, insisting you open the door. I’ve already driven all the way here, you called me a week ago—you just don’t remember.
a whisper of fear seizes you. and on the other side of the wall, Simon bares his teeth. he’s had his fair-share of shady shit. worked in dodgy places for dodgy people, so it clicks in his brain like violet light when the aforementioned plumber quietens, presentiment hanging in the air.
then, a crack. resounding, but not unbecoming for this area of town. the plumber is hurling his body against the fickle wood of your door, making a depression within the timber.
bang, bang, bang, and the splitting of wood is all you hear. your brain is too high-strung to recognise Simon’s door opening, or the sound of battering on your door ripening into the hollow sound of flesh against flesh. knuckles splitting against bone, a soft, snuffed-out holler that seems to get smothered under the bubbling of blood and fists.
your mind is reeling. your brain is delayed. belatedly, you catch up. you set your cheek to your door, your tears sticking to the wood. sniffling. “hello?”
“’m here, love, it’s me,” Simon replies. his voice is heavier than usual, caught on the angry chatter of his teeth. “don’t come out, okay? stay there.”
Simon stands in the middle of the corridor, huffing like a bull. there’s blood and salt crusted in the margins of his hands—more than he’s ever had at the butcher shop.
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headspace-hotel · 9 months ago
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Problems like climate change, where solving them requires millions of people to collectively work at hundreds of different solutions at once, are black holes for internal peacefulness because they give you a type of frustration where you alternately become bitter towards yourself or everyone around you. "If only I could work harder to fix the problem!" makes you exhausted, so you must become angry at others: "If only they cared about the problem!"
People who are already working on fixing climate change need to convince more people to work on it. And a popular thing is to share writings that describe how doomed we all are if climate change is not fixed, how terrible everything will be because of climate change, and how quickly all the treasures of our world are being lost.
There is a particular understanding of human behavior that is being accepted here without thinking about it hard enough. Popular news media shows headlines with terrible prophecies, written that way in hopes of getting the attention of otherwise disinterested people, who will then be "motivated" to fix climate change.
The trouble is that fear is no good for motivating thoughtful, patient, steady commitment to solving a problem. Fear is made to cause an organism to avoid things that might harm it. It creates a brief and explosive pulse of action where the organism's energy pours out as it instinctively, thoughtlessly reacts to escape the danger as fast as possible.
It's silly to blame people for avoiding thinking about climate change. The point of an organism responding to stressors is to avoid them. Oftentimes, the only tool people are presented with is personal choices about what products to buy, which inevitably is horribly frustrating and stressful, since a person will frequently be coerced by their situation into buying a certain product, and even if they don't they see others doing it all the time.
Relentless exposure to imminent threats that cannot be escaped causes Trauma, which severely impacts a person's ability to be resilient to stressors.
I think there is definitely a type of trauma associated with being constantly aware of the destruction of the environment and feeling helpless to do anything about it, especially since we as humans have a deep need for contact with other living things and aspects of the natural world, such as trees, water, flowers, and animals—a need that is often totally denied and treated as merely a Want or a hobby meant only for certain people who enjoy particular activities, like Hiking or Gardening.
We need to expand our minds on how this disconnection can hurt a human being. Imagine if a child's need to be loved by their caregivers, a person's need to be loved by their friends and family, was treated as a desire for indulgence or luxury, or a certain use of free time!
Yes, yes, one person has a condition that makes it hard to walk up hills, another doesn't like the bright sunshine, another is allergic to the grass or fungal components of the outdoor world, but WE ARE PART OF THE FAMILY OF ALL LIFE ON EARTH and WE EXIST IN SYMBIOSIS WITH THE ENVIRONMENT WHICH TAKES CARE OF US. Who showed you what beauty was, who taught you to feel peace and relief inside you in the form of a caressing breeze and rustle of leaves, who gave you awe and wonder at seeing the stars or the mountains? Where does every delicious food come from but the soil teeming with creatures? Isn't the most perfectly sweet berry grown from a plant, nurtured by the soil and pollinated by the bugs? Don't you feel delight at seeing a springy carpet of moss, a little mushroom, or a tiny bird? Think of all that the trees give us. Whose breath do you breathe? Whose body frames your home?
The writings of Indigenous writers such as the book by Mary Siisip Genuisz I am reading right now show me that the other life forms are our family. They take care of us and provide for us, and they would miss us if our species disappeared. Isn't that a powerful, healing fact? I think everybody is so enthusiastic about the book Braiding Sweetgrass because it is a worldview that those of us coming from the dominant colonizer culture are straight up ravenous, starving to death for.
Maybe, I think to myself, humans can experience a kind of trauma from being deprived a relationship with their Earth, just as they would experience trauma from being deprived relationships with other humans.
I really believe that it hurts us to be surrounded by concrete instead of soil, to see a majestic tree cut down on a whim without any justice possible, to see wild animals mostly in the form of mangled corpses on the roadside, to have poison sprayed everywhere to kill the insects that life depends on, to hear traffic and lawn mowers and weed whackers instead of birds and flowing water.
We KNOW that this is physically bad for our health, the stifling, polluted, and stressful environments of a civilization that doesn't know the ways of the plants, but I think it's a kind of moral injury too, right? To see a beautiful field turned into a housing development of ugly, big, expensive houses—no thought given to the butterflies and sparrows and quail of the field? To see a big old tree cut down, a pond full of frogs obliterated and turned into a drainage ditch beside a gas station? They aren't just things, they are lives, and while expansion and profit and progress are "necessary," a nice old field of wildflowers or a pond full of frogs are a different kind of necessary. I remember feeling this as a child without words for it—the sheer cruelty of a world that is totally without reverence for the other creatures.
"They own the property, they can cut down the tree" "They bought the land, they can do what they want with it" <but it can also be wrong, and many people know this on some level, even though our culture doesn't provide us with the framework.
Fear could never give people the motivation to fix climate change. Constant fear of what will happen in the future forces a person to protect themselves from the relentless stress by shutting it out entirely or developing apathy.
A fear based argument for fixing climate change either causes a worldview of nature with no bond of kinship at all, based on the physical and practical dependence on Nature as a "resource," or forces people to experience their kinship with Nature only through grief.
Fear tells us that we want to live—it does not tell us WHY to live. If a person tries to live on fear alone, they will eventually find the desire to live burdensome and painful in itself. I see this emerging on a society wide scale in the USA, feeding on influences from the Christian evangelicalism that sees the Earth as something already sullied and worthless, to be thrown away like a dirty tissue, and on the looming monolith of nuclear winter that gave our parents recurring nightmares as children.
If you go to r/collapse on Reddit (don't do that) you will see a whole community of people who cope with the threat of climate change by fantasizing about it, imagining it as a collective punishment for all humanity and a cathartic release from the present painful situation.
We cannot learn to live without seeing the reason for living. We cannot save the Earth without loving it. We cannot heal nature without caring for it. In order to collectively take action against climate change, we must be moved by something other than fear—and that something is love. Not just love of the outdoors as an activity, but love of the Earth as something that loves us.
The dominant Western culture cannot borrow Indigenous land stewardship techniques as though they are just one climate resilience strategy, without being also willing to change its dreadfully impoverished way of viewing human relationships with Nature.
What right have we to think, "Huh, maybe those guys were on to something with the multi-level polyculture systems and controlled burns" while still thinking humans are nothing but a disease on the Earth, and that Earth would be happy to be rid of us? The sustainable ways of using the land practiced traditionally by cultures who have lived in relationship with their ecosystems for many generations work because humans can exist in mutualistic symbiosis with the life forms around them. We care for them. They care for us.
I know for a fact that plants seek relationships with us, and I was taught by them to see how interconnected everything really is, and how I was made to be a caretaker of my ecosystem. I was, a few years ago, just as I describe above. Too scared and pessimistic about the future of nature to bother loving it, and because of this, I could not realize my niche in the ecosystem. It felt for many years like I could do nothing—i believed in climate change, but I felt hopeless, so I put it out of my mind. But when I began to cultivate a love and reverence for the sad, scraggly, beaten-down fragments of Nature around me, everything changed. So much became possible.
I am still learning and exploring, trying to open my mind to ideas totally different than the ones I knew growing up, paying close attention to every plant and learning its ways. And it stuns me to think—some people write about climate change without this process.
The author of the book "The Uninhabitable Earth" (a scary book about how doomed the Earth is because of climate change) says in the beginning of the book that he is not very much of a nature lover. You fool, love is our most powerful evolutionary adaptation!
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luveline · 1 month ago
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Hii! I'm in love with your Hotch adult daughter fics. Could we get one where she is getting bullied in college or where she works and then Hotch finds out somehow and helps her? Please please :)
thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.2k
He decides to surprise you. He’s at risk of embarrassing himself greatly, and he’s okay with that risk. 
Hotch stands outside of the George Washington University and winces in the hot weather. The sun beats down on the back of his neck. He’s more aware of how little sun protection he uses as the time stretches on, waiting for you, but he doesn’t mind it. He’s worn full suits in the Nevada desert. 
You emerge from the main building where your last class for the day takes place. He dropped you off here last week, got to watch you walk in and say hi to the custodian. It was a nice insight of who you are, someone he’s proud to be the father of though he had little hand in what you’ve become. 
Behind you are two female classmates. 
Hotch pauses under the tree he’d taken refuge by. 
He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can see the rigidity of your shoulders, your hackles rising as they talk. The brunette gets a nasty look on her face, to which you respond, and the blonde’s volume begins to rise. 
The brunette looks like she might reach for you. “Don’t touch me,” you warn. 
Hotch steps in. 
“Hey, excuse me,” he says, loudly and firmly, the Unit Chief tone in play. He’s gotten very good at raising his voice without shouting. “What’s going on here?”
The two women who were talking to you falter, but the brunette stays fiery. “We’re just talking.” 
“About what?” 
“It’s none of your business.” 
“If you’re going to lay your hands on her, it becomes my business,” he says. 
There’s a guilt to the blonde’s expression that proves you’d been thinking correctly and that she was going to touch you, even if it were only to grab your wrist, but she bristles and denies. “We weren’t.” 
“Then you have no reason to stay.” 
You frown deeply. “No, they can finish. Clearly they think it’s important–”
“But do you think it’s important?” Hotch asks you. 
Your frown, your anger beginning to ebb. You take a breath. “I suppose not.” 
Hotch levels the women with a look. Just a look, not interrogative or heated, but prompting —it’s the kind of look he gives people when he wants them to realise they’ve missed their cue to leave. 
“See you next week, then,” the brunette says, a threat he abhors. 
“I’m sure she will,” he says, hoping anything unsaid is felt. He has no idea who they are or what you’ve apparently done to make them angry, but you won’t be intimidated. 
“Do I need to talk with Dean Langley?” he asks, turning to you as the women walk out of hearing range. 
“Aaron.” You look at him, look like him, not in appearance but the pinch to your brow as you rub the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” 
“What?” 
“They do it to me every time I’m here.” 
“They do?” 
You sound like it’s a chore. “They think I’m sleeping with our professor.” 
“Why would they think that?” 
“Because ever since I stopped working, my grades are much better, n’ they think I cheated my way there.” 
Oh, of course. Hotch tries to do something good by you —he’s started giving you a little chunk of money every week so you don’t have to work anymore, nothing obsequious but enough to cover everything you need, rent and food and transportation, clothes, textbooks, and he made it clear you can ask for more— and it makes things worse for you instead. Still, “Your grades are improving?” 
“I’m doing pretty well,” you confess shyly. 
He holds your shoulder. “I’m sorry they’re jealous, and I’m sorry they’re inventing a narrative to cope. I really can speak with Dean Langley if you need me to.” 
You smile and let yourself lean into his touch. “Inventing a narrative to cope,” you repeat. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that one.” 
You have more fight in you, it seems. “If it gets too much, just let me know. You don’t have to entertain their delusion.” 
“I’ll use that one, too.” 
He laughs, hand sliding behind your back to hug you from the side, his nose briefly pressing to your temple before he gives you space again. “I was hoping I’d catch you on your way out, are you busy? Let me take you to dinner, celebrate your performance.” 
“You realise I wouldn’t have improved without your help?” you ask. 
“I think any parent in my position should provide for their kid,” he says easily. “It’s not help. Not everyone can support their children through college, but I can, and I wish I had been from the start.” 
“You don’t owe me anything,” you say. 
He nudges you into a walk toward his car. “I owe you more than you realise.” 
He takes you to an early dinner, and celebrates your improving grades with the dessert of your choosing. Conversation with you can sometimes feel strange. It’s hard to think you were a kid once and he’d never met you, but then he realises how young twenty two really is, how you’re still willing, longing for him to be a father to you. You’re smug that he’d go to the dean to for you. You like that he stepped in. And you love being doted on, being encouraged. He can see that easily. 
“When can I come back to see Jack?” you ask eventually. 
He wishes he could say whenever you like, but he has a hard time following Haley’s movements. “I’ll ask. Soon, I promise.”
“He took great care of me.” 
The last time you’d stayed over, Jack acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread (which you are, in Hotch’s eyes). 
“You know, he had a little trouble with bullies last year.” 
“They aren’t bullies,” you say, taking a bashful bite of your ice cream. 
“No, of course not. But he’ll understand, if you want to tell him about it.”
“Aaron, he’s five.” 
“He’s six,” he corrects. 
“Oh, sorry. But still, I don’t think Jack wants to deal with that. I couldn’t unload on him, he’s my… you know, he’s my little brother.” 
“Then tell me about it, at least.” 
“You saw the most of it.” 
He sighs. Wishes you’d call him dad, understands why you don’t, and can’t think of what to do. It was easier when Jack had trouble, because little kids bully each other almost on accident. They don’t know what they’re doing is wrong, having learned the behaviour from their parents. It’s almost never personal. 
Your situation is not the same. 
“I’ll talk to the dean,” he suggests again. 
“Don’t bother. It’s alright. And if it gets worse, I’ll tell you.” 
He smiles, reaching over plates to squeeze your hand briefly. “Thank you.” 
You look down at your food. Some shyness to you still at being cared about. “Thank you,” you mumble. 
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goldsbitch · 19 days ago
Text
Four times I bumped into you and the one time I fell
There is no such thing as right time, wrong place. Once the timing is right, the world will spin on its axis to bring two souls together.
fluff, no warnings
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Running late to the airport was an absolute no go for you - well, that was until you met Lando, with whom you somehow lost all the travel anxiety. But this was good twelve years before you'd officially meet. While neither of you were aware, it was him who quite literally crashed into you, as he was rushing to catch a flight he was characteristically late for.
This was your first long trip alone, so to say you were anxious would be an understatement. Airports were designed to be understood quite easily, but there you were, unsure where you were suppose to go after the security check. With head turned up to all those signs, you tried to make out where in hell did this place wanted you to go to. Just like a thunder, unexpected and attention-grabbing, Lando bumped into you from behind, full force. He wasn't expecting someone to be just standing there in the middle of the busy pathway.
"Shit," he cussed, already being late to his gate. He quickly checked whether you were ok, mad at you for standing there like a post and a bit angry with himself, for being unable to follow a normal timetable. Your left shoulder received quite a big blow, so after your squirted with pain, you looked at your left arm, before you sought the culprit. When your eyes met, you forgot about all of the pain. In front of you stood an absolutely gorgeous boy. He must have been around your age, boyish looks lacing his face. That sort of cheeky innocence late teenagers have. He was taken back, just like you were, and immediately forgot why he was angry in the first place. Both of you were shy as could be in that moment. The only thing he managed to get out of himself was a little sorry. You smiled and then looked down at your feet. Not knowing what to do, he just uttered another quick apology and set on to continue with his journey to the gate.
"Wait, sorry," you managed to get out of yourself, just as he was about to disappear into the distance. He stopped and turned.
"Yes?" he answered, sheepishly.
You swallowed and tried to speak without getting your tongue twisted. "Can you please show me which way I'm suppose to go?"
You had a true desperate look on you, one that a boy raised like him could never resist. A shot of guilt went though him once he saw you holding your shoulder, probably still bit in pain.
"Sure," he said and proceeded to look at your flight ticket. As he leaned over you, your heart stopped. His proximity was making you almost shiver. Strong perfume, or possibly deodorant given his age, hit your nose. But it wasn't like when other boys were wearing it in school. You wanted to soak yourself in it and drown. He told you some words, explaining where you're suppose to go, but you didn't get any of that. Full on panic from being attracted to him overtook your brain. You nodded, as if you'd understood, and looked him in the eyes again. Both of you held on longer than what would be considered appropriate.
"I gotta go," he muttered and made his exit once again. Didn't turn back, because just like you, he was panicking just a bit.
Once he left your eyesight, you looked at the board again, confused, perhaps more than you were before asking him for directions.
//
"Still nothing?" your friend asked, having no choice but becoming fully invested in your newest crush, guy you shared one lecture last semester. You checked your phone once again, but both of you knew what your answer would be.
"Nothing," you replied after not seeing his name on the list of people who watched your story on Instagram.
Funny, how you can go on an amazing backpacking trip with your bestie, live life to the fullest - and none of it matters if he doesn't give a fuck. In fact, it was infuriating. You were sitting nearby a lovely canal somewhere in Amsterdam, meeting new people every day, having the time of your life. All while checking your phone every five minutes.
Your bestie could tell you were more than annoyed. She herself found it pretty exhausting, because sometimes, it felt like this guy was on the trip with both of you.
"I gotta get him out of my head," you said finally after few minutes of silence.
"Yup. You do realize he is a loser, do you?" your friend said and you laughed because at that time, you just did not see where she was coming from. Years later, you'd be laughing about it.
"I do, yeah. I mean, fuck it, I'm in Amsterdam. This is so cool!" you said, trying to pump yourself up to some enthusiasm.
"That's more like it," your friend replied, more than ready to start talking about anything else than that guy. "Let's just, you know, look around and get inspired. We might find someone for you tonight!"
You laughed. "What, like on the street?"
She just shrugged her shoulders. "You never know..."
You observed the people walking on the other side of the canal. "What about that one?" you pointed to a guy smoking on a bridge, hoping he didn't see you.
"Could work...but there is better material around."
Few moments passed. "Uh, what about that one?" your friend pointed to nice looking guy, who was casually jogging around.
You tried to zoom in, not really sure what to make of him. "Yeah, maybe..."
And then, Lando decided to check his phone, while running, and immediately found himself on the ground, as he managed to miss a hole in the street.
Both of you people-watchers couldn't help but laugh out loud. He couldn't hear you and nobody else apart from didn't seem to notice his fall.
"Ok, maybe not that one," your friend jokes, not knowing she just marked off your future husband.
//
The immigration office. Dreaded place where no one is ever happy. It's also the one place where you can't send someone to just "do it for you". Lando would pay anything to be able to get out of this.
He was sat there for a good half an hour, even though he had a pre-booked appointment. He couldn't recall last time he was this bored. His recent success run had many perks, the best of them being the fact he could often jump lines and get many shortcuts. Not the immigration office. These people just don't care.
It stopped being important the moment you walked though the door and sat across from him, failing to pay any attention to your surroundings. The moment you were sat, you started frantically going through your papers, most likely worried you forgot half of the information these people wanted from you.
"First time?" Lando was not usually chatty with strangers unless they addressed him first, which had been happening a lot lately. But there was something about .you Something in the way you shuffled so nervously.
His voice was thick with British accent, which was usually the thing that made you swoon. When you first looked at him, it overcame you a bit. He was undeniably gorgeous. One of those a bit out of reach. God, he could be a model. Knowing this city, he probably was.
"Yes, first time. There was a mistake done at my embassy, so now I have to try to fix it so that I can come home."
He nodded and you wondered why a guy like that would even care to speak to you. "Home, where is that?" he asked, cheeky look burning holes into you.
You chuckled. He knew where to aim to make it count. "Funny question...I'm currently on crossroads. If I say yes to a job offer, it could pretty much be on a different continent." Lando sensed you were avoiding specific answers and found it smart actually, many creepy people everywhere.
"Well, good luck with your decision. I'm sure that what is meant to be will come to you in the right time."
"Thank you...So what do you call home?" you returned the question.
"Huh. Probably my car," he said, surprising himself in the same way you got. "Yeah, that'll be it."
A nervous laugh escaped your lips. "Are you like homeless or something?" Wave of awkwardness rushed through you, but left as soon as he chuckled at your question.
"No, not really. Just on the road a lot," he said and leaned back in a relaxed way.
"Interesting. Never thought that people on road have to deal with visa."
"More than you'd think."
His number was called in from the office shortly after that. You glanced at him a gave him a small smile. He debated for a moment whether or not he should ask for your number. In the end, he didn't. The interaction was too brief. He was on the move constantly and found everything a little too overwhelming. Hadn't learned yet how to deal with it all. Took him two weeks to stop beating himself over chickening out. But then again, it would be another eight years before he learned your name.
//
Flashing lights, body on body, light smoke that helped to cover the tracks and the latest electronic track to cut through it all. You were in Ibiza, on a bachelorette party for one of your friends. Truth be told, you were not keen on tagging along. You weren't exactly besties with the bride to be, more a friend of a friend. But your big break up was almost seven months ago and the fact you were counting only proved you were not doing well. In fact, it was absolute torture. A trip to Ibiza seemed like a decent distraction from the emptiness that haunted you back home.
You'd separated from the group, perhaps the shots were little stronger than what you were used to. In the middle of the packed dance floor, you found peace. People swaying back and forth, heavy air making sure you all stayed intoxicated. The world was spinning when a pair of hands found you. You could only wonder whether he was as drunk as you were or more. But at that moment, you didn't. Your body reacted to his arms holding you and it was nice to actually feel another person so closely. Perhaps that's what you came for to this island, to find the inner passion for other people again. You weren't searching for love. And of course, you hadn't found it. Because, just when you finally turned around to lock your lips with the handsome, toned guy, Lando had just walked past you, trying to push through the crowd. While he searched for his friends, you searched for the anything that random guy might have had left unspoken on the tip of his tongue.
The headache that followed was more bearable than the heartbreak that pained you before. It's probably for the best you hadn't found Lando that night. You were not ready, not for another three years.
//
It's been quite some time since you loved someone with the kind of intensity that makes dancing in the rain sound like the best idea ever. The kind of love that people write albums about. There was still a glimmer of hope, but with every failed situationship, the hope was harder to search for. Maybe it was just not meant to be - and truth be told, life was actually pretty good. You had great friends, fun job and late twenties were looking great on you. You lost yourself in your thoughts for longer than was probably socially acceptable when one is at a wedding so prestigious as this one was. How you got there was also such a random coincidence, but suddenly you found yourself around a celebrity wedding, where there could have been around five hundred people.
It was a lot to handle in one evening and if you were completely honest, you did feel a little out of place. To regain some peace of mind and avoid a panic attack, you snuck out into the depths of the garden adjacent to the venue.
You walked for minutes, peace and solitude uninterrupted. That was until he spoke to you "for the first time". Neither of you remembering your previous encounters.
"Look, I know this is gonna sound cheesy, but hear me out," said the voice of a person, who at that time had no idea they would go on a disturb your peace for the rest of your life. You turned around, bit surprised someone also made it this far away from the rest of the attendees.
Lando took a quick breath and spoke again. "This is a really good light you have on right now, can I take a quick photo of you?" he said and waved around with his analogue camera. You examined the guy standing in front of you. One would have a hard time looking for someone more handsome than him. He stood there, giving off rather impatient vibe.
"Photo of me?" you asked, not believing you heard him correctly.
"Yes, please. The light is perfect and it'll soon be gone."
He was right about one thing, the sunset was making the sky and the whole garden shimmer with tones of pink one rarely sees in real life. You locked eyes with this strange person and saw a demanding look, begging you to allow him to capture the moment.
"Okey," you said in a low, unconfident tone. He smiled and it was like he just had a shot of espresso, energy flew right through him. His arms shot up and he started looking for the perfect frame.
"Wait, I don't know what to do..." you protested, not being used to getting photographed. For Lando, the occurance of a camera was so common, he didn't even think about it. He found your hesistance refreshing. He quickly snapped a picture, hoping it would capture your unease. Then he looked up from his camera to you again.
"You're perfect like that, don't worry," he assured you and looked for another angle. He was quickly becoming obsessed with the way how the light made your hair shine and a shadow highlighted the contour of your face. There was something he saw in you that night, something he would spend years trying to get into a picture and never getting it fully, at least in his opinion.
Lando found his perfect angle, but by that time your face became stiff, showing you really were not used to modeling. Once again, he looked up from his camera to courage you.
He smiled at you and the two of you locked eyes for longer than strangers usually do. "I'd love to see your smile," he said, hoping he'd loosen you up.
You were beyond nervous. Whatever you were was far apart from normal heart rate.
"Well then you're gonna have to tell me a joke," you said, not knowing where it came from.
"Don't worry, we can talk about my love life after the sunset," he said jokingly and to surprise of anyone who might have overheard, you laughed.
From that moment on, history wrote itself pretty quickly.
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nyxofdemons · 5 months ago
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i cannot get over the way that blitz screams "LET'S GO" like he WANTS to fight with him, like he's ASKING stolas to lash out at him and tell him blitz is right, stolas DOES think he's insignificant and he wants him gone if blitz doesn't accept his feelings immediately, just so blitz has a reason to keep being angry and vent out everything bottled up inside of him.
i think all of this comes back to how blitz would rather people hate him than miss him, because at least then he feels like he's getting what he deserves, and he will actively sabotage relationships to MAKE people hate him so he knows they have a good reason - like his breakup with verosika and everything he did to her. if he GIVES her a reason to hate his guts then he gets to know exactly what it is he did wrong, and it's not just because of who he is fundamentally that's so despicable. i think he's TRYING to do the same thing with stolas here - on some level his anger is justified, of course, but i don't think this is entirely that. i think he's trying to provoke stolas into lashing out at him so they can have a huge argument, and blitz can make him feel as small as he does right now, and if stolas gets angry and hates him for whatever cruel things he's going to say, then blitz gets proof that stolas doesn't really love him, gives his self-loathing monster a taste of validation by knowing he is definitely the reason that all of this fell apart, and reaffirms his own warped self-image that he is incapable of receiving love or creating a good relationship.
blitz isn't expecting stolas to take him at his word - that this is nothing more than sex, and he actually thinks of stolas as nothing more than a privileged rich asshole he HAS to put up with - he's expecting stolas to fight back so blitz can keep yelling. but stolas loves him too much to lash out (at least right now,) and he's so aware of the power imbalance between them and feels too guilty about their transactional relationship to try and argue. HE'S being entirely honest about his feelings (and he's distraught and off his meds), so he's assuming that blitz is being honest, too - he really can't stand stolas, and he's been perceiving their interactions as stolas' classism being malicious rather than simply ignorant, so of course there's no way blitz would ever want to be with him. and blitz can't grasp that stolas genuinely cares, and doesn't want to fight with him, until it's too late to backtrack.
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allsadnshit · 1 month ago
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One of the most important things I've learned to look out for when entering any sort of relationship whether it's romantic or friendship is if someone is punishing. I think anger and honesty are so important for our health and being able to say a big "fuck you" to people that hurt or wrong us is quite literally good for our mind, body, and soul...BUT I do not think punishment whether personal or social is something worth risking with someone who strongly believes in it by their own hand. I think a lot of the time it's easy to justify because you think so long as you are both moral and considerate people, then there will be no reason to fear future conflict, but I don't think that's true of people who admit they will go out of their way to get revenge when they feel it's deserved. Justification in general is subjective, so you might think an action deserves a boundary like not allowing someone into your space or life again, and for someone who is punishing that might look like turning your whole social group against you for something you disagree on how it should be handled.
And I really just think more young people in their early 20's who are learning the in's and out's of things like roommates, partnership, and even work colleagues need to understand the difference between someone who will stand up for themselves vs someone who thinks if they are wronged then it justifies anything they want to do in the aftermath if they believe they are the victim.
You actually ARE who you are when you are angry.
If you see someone you love feel betrayed or hurt and you see how quickly they go from standing up for themselves to intentionally trying to hurt someone else in their justified rage and go out of their way to witness their suffering because they feel their own judgement of what that person might deserve should be reality - just be aware that a lot of those times the judgements will be subjective and how someone treats even their enemies says something about their character at the end of the day.
Even if I am confident I am going to be a respectful person, I also know what might make sense to me could be very unjust in someone else's eyes, and the last thing I ever want to be around is someone I know will take their personal feelings or opinion and think they have the right to dictate my suffering or healing. Just being on good terms does not save you from if you end up hurting one another down the road, so you shouldn't tie yourself to people who would enjoy being cruel if they felt righteous.
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alchemistc · 4 months ago
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There's been something about the woobification of Buck that's been sitting on the tip of my tongue for weeks now, and I think I've finally figured it out.
This is, of course, mostly in reference to the moral outrage about a decade-ish (give or take) age gap between two adult men and the infantalization of one said grown man, so all the puritanism isn't really coming from a place of good faith anyway, but here's the thing that's been bugging me that I couldn't quite put a finger on until now.
Buck has people he goes to for certain things. He has, what are in his mind, experts in the field for most of the things he can't think through on his own, that he goes to for a sounding board.
He went to Hen to talk through the sperm donor dilemma for a few reasons that made sense to him. 1) She's a mom. She has very much had to deal with the reality of 'giving up' children she considered her own. Buck is aware that he would be giving up something that could mean something to him, and he wants to talk to someone who has some insight into that. 2) She's dealt with IVF. She knows the risks, she knows the trials and tribulations, she knows about this thing that he is thinking about agreeing to be a part of so she's going to have a fuller grasp on the enormity of everything this process entails.
And they drink about it. Hen gives him what she can and cautions him where she thinks she should and they continue to talk about it and regardless of what SHE thinks, he makes his mind up in part because he got to talk to his Expert.
Bobby is often his go to when he feels like he's losing his grip on things. He's seen Bobby staring down the bottom of the bottle. He's seen the work he's done to pull himself back into the world, and he's seen the way he fights for his family, his people. Buck leans on him in times of questioning himself because he knows Bobby has pulled himself off the ledge with bleeding hands and a bleeding heart.
He reaches out to Maddie about interpersonal shit constantly. We see it all the way back in S2 when he's starting to question what the hell he's still doing in Abby's apartment, and that never really changes. She's the one with advice for him when he's angry with his parents, upset with the firefam, worried about his friends, or just generally concerned with the way he's perceived by people or how he perceives the world. He goes to her when he's embarrassed, ashamed, because he knows she won't judge him for it. She'll call him out, for sure, but she's not going to look at him differently when she knows he's done something he considers bad behavior.
When he goes to her during the Tommy arc, he's there for one reason he'll admit, and another she has to ferret out. 1) He lied to his best friend and he doesn't know why. 2) Oh yeah he went on a date with a dude that's not strange WHY IS THAT STRANGE I'VE ALWAYS BEEN AN ALLY PLEASE DON'T PULL BACK THE CURTAIN - and Maddie is there with two things: 1) It's not weird but it IS new and something you clearly haven't worked through all the way which is why 2) you'll tell Eddie when you're ready
And Eddie is sort of his go-to to bounce ideas off of. Eddie is his Buck expert. Eddie is the guy who can sort through all the bullshit and who sees Buck for exactly who he is, every time, regardless of what Buck himself is thinking. Eddie is his best friend, and he knows the good the bad and the ugly better than anyone else. He is also, quite frankly, the one Buck seeks out to help him contextualize all of his romantic feelings for people. Eddie's the guy he talks to when he's interested in someone, when he's falling for someone, he's the guy through which Buck filters his love interests into the firefam. I do the same shit with my best friend. It's instinct to want the person you consider the expert on you to meet the person you are interested in, it's instinct to want them to like each other, to get along. Buck knows Eddie loves him (in whatever way you see that love, Buck knows Eddie loves him) and he wants this person who loves him to be at least an active listener as he talks himself through the minefield of relationships. I do also think that up until the events of season seven, Buck considers Eddie sort of an expert on that traditional love-marriage-kids-white-picket-fence relationship Buck thinks he's striving for - in a very naive way, because obviously the wasn't what Eddie and Shannon had and Buck knows that, but he's probably fed some of Eddie's rose colored reminiscences back into that notion.
When he comes out to Eddie he's got two worries. 1) I lied to you and I figured out why but I'm still a little worried you think it's weird and 2) I screwed it up with someone I really like and I don't know where to go from here.
And Eddie (Buck expert) reassures him that just because it's new and unexpected doesn't make it strange, that it doesn't change anything in their friendship. And then he gets right to the heart of it - if you like him you should reach out and tell him that. He doesn't know you like we do but if you give him the chance to, he'll love you as much as we do. If he doesn't give it the same shot you want to he's the idiot.
With all that context in mind, Buck isn't seeking out Tommy's attention because he wants an authority figure, or someone to take care of him, someone to guide him through sex or love or relationship dynamics or any of the other random shit I've seen ppl infantalizing Buck about.
What he's looking for, and what he ultimately tells Tommy he'd like to pursue, is a partnership. Someone to walk (or more likely for Buck, speedrun) through experiences together. The Athena to his Bobby, the Chim to his Maddie, the Karen to his Hen.
So every time I see someone infantalizing Buck for seeking out a relationship with an older man for X or Y reason, I'm just like - no. He has Bobby, Hen, Maddie, Eddie, Chim etc for that. He doesn't want or need Tommy for that. He is a grown ass man who has built these strong relationships with his peers and his mentors and he is so fucking aware of that because he reaches for their help any time he feels the urge for a helping hand.
So yeah, Tommy's older. Yes, Tommy has more experience with his sexuality than Buck. And that - that's really it. Buck's been in the same career for more than half a decade. He's lived on his own since he was no older than 19/20. He's had serious relationships, he has a rich and fulfilling life. There is no power imbalance in the relationship between Buck and Tommy.
And while the age gap may be a bit of a draw for Buck, it's not WHY he's attracted to Tommy. We know because he's told Maddie. He's cool. He's interesting. He's confident. He has a cleft.
Buck isn't going into this waiting for someone older and more experienced to take the fucking reins. He felt like he clicked with Tommy, like there was an immediate connection, and yes, Tommy had to kiss him about it for Buck to actually figure out what it was he was experiencing, but from that point on it was all on Buck (and the people he leans on for advice) to help him sort through.
Tommy didn't do shit other than pump the brakes and try to give Buck the space he thought he needed to decide what he was ready for. Buck (again, with the help of his experts - Maddie for the emotional piece of it, Eddie for the Buck of it all) did the work on his own. Tommy didn't swoop in and overbearingly hold his hand through a sexual awakening. He kissed him, asked him out, realized he wasn't ready, stepped back and then checked in multiple times when Buck came back at it going 120 miles an hour.
And then he did everything he could to prove to Buck he wanted the same thing - a partner, someone to talk to, and lean on, and flirt with and rely on to show up whenever they could feasibly manage it (and sometimes when it's a little unfeasible too).
The narrative even acknowledges that Buck had no reason to go to Bobby in this scenario, when he often would, and lays out exactly why.
Within the canon of this particular arc, we're meant to see this as Buck realizing he has the experience necessary to think these things through on his own. This is Buck finally taking control of something that's always felt like it fell into his lap a bit. This is Buck doing more than treading water until his legs give out.
And minimizing that growth bc you personally don't like the LI he's pursuing is gross at best. At worst it's something much more insidious.
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lizziesribbons · 10 months ago
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So badly |
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PAIRING: RICH STEPMOM! WANDA X FEM! READER
summary: Wanda is your dad's new wife and an incredibly talented business woman, you always liked her but you felt as if she didn't feel the same way about you, she was always cold with you truth be told you were too innocent to know what the real intentions behind the coldness was.
warnings: ****MINORS DNI***** *****MEN DNI***** ****CONTAINS SMUT LOTS OF SMUT****** degradation kink, hair pulling, praising, angst if you squint, mommy kink, r being head over heels in love with Wanda, Wanda being mean too mean but hot. SO HOT. squirting muahahaha, multiple orgasms, crazy crazy gay peOple, everyone's gay y'all are gay, gay gay gay. I need to drown in holy water cuz um yea.
author's note: I changed EVERYTHING CHANGED I don't know if y'all even know who I am but like anyways idek if this is gonna be a thing I just got an idea and I wrote it in my notes and now I'm posting here ‼️
Word count: 2.1k
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Wanda maximoff.
She was an intimidating woman. even her name is hot? When your dad first introduced her you immediately fell in love whenever she was around you were always squirming in her gaze, she was just too pretty too perfect. Too good for your dad. Your dad wasn't the best man in the world he was alright, he was always working always travelling he didn't have time for you or anything else that's why you were shocked when he brought her. Wanda.
Wanda was a business woman too. A successful one indeed, She had 2 twins Tommy and billy, who you instantly grew to love, you wondered how Wanda handled all of it, A husband, A business and still making enough time for her kids, she was like a super mom there was no single doubt her kids loved her. And she loved them.
Your dad was barely home so it was always just you Wanda and the twins, you never felt like Wanda liked you whenever you would try talking to her she would give you cold responses, always looking into your soul like she was angry at you. She would constantly taunt you whenever you would go outside with your friends and come home too late, or when you wore something a little too revealing. Some would say she was possessive you just thought of it as her being her grumpy self
but what you didn't know, Wanda wanted you. Every second of every day she thought about you but she knew it was wrong. so she would put up this act to hide her secret. her dirty little secret, no one except Wanda knew what kind of thoughts ran through her mind, what she did at night thinking about you when her husband was asleep beside her.
she thinks about how her fingers would feel inside you, making you scream her name, whispering all kinds of dirty things in your sweet little ears
how good it would feel to fuck you with her strap until you couldn't take it anymore, she often gets off thinking about you but you weren't aware of any of it. She sometimes thought you knew cause of how you would bend over in front of her wearing the most smallest skirts possible but she knew you were just as innocent as you look, she also knew about the crush you have on her, it was too obvious with how you would look inside her shirt every time she bent down to pick something, how quickly you would respond every time she calls for you, how flustered you would get when she's around. she wasn't blind she could see right through you.
You were always home nowadays as your college was off and your friends were either on vacation with their family or they just didn't have time. Wanda had a business event today on which she asked you to come with her as the twins were at their dad's and you would be home alone, she even picked up an outfit for you, it was a cute black dress simple and elegant not too small just how Wanda liked. She was so sweet with you today. too sweet. even offered to make your hair and do your makeup and you let her. cuz how could you deny it? you let her dress you up like you were her personal doll she gave you a kiss on the cheek that made you blush so hard Wanda immediately noticed and smirked.
the car ride from the house to where the event was being held was filled with tension. Wanda's eyes were constantly on you eating you up she noticed the way you clenched your thighs under her gaze and how you shied away every time you two would make eye contact, when you reached the destination, Wanda opened the door for you holding out her hand to you. Your fingers intertwined with hers following her between the crowd of people.
You insisted on staying behind as she went on the red carpet. admiring her you noticed how beautiful Wanda really is, she is hand-crafted by the gods you wondered how it would feel to touch her. every inch of her body you wanted to kiss her so bad the urge to do it was strong. Wanda noticed, Ofc she noticed she smirked knowing your gaze was on her and all her attention too, you looked at her coming back to you as you straightened your back and smiled at her, she held you by your waist and told you "I want you to meet some people malaysh" the nickname made you weak. you just wanted to fall on your knees and beg Wanda but you couldn't.
After meeting those people Wanda left you alone to go and sort some business deal you didn't care about. Wanda saw you laughing and chatting with some people she thought it was nice you were getting along well, until. she saw this girl put her hand on your thigh and getting too touchy. Wanda felt something burst inside her she interrupted the conversation she was having came behind you and pulled you back from your waist making you push yourself into her crotch.
Wanda looked at the girl and raised her eyebrows, the girl was out of there in a second. It was hot. so hot the power Wanda holds, you were about to ask what that was when suddenly you felt her fingers hold your ass tightly as she whispered in your ear "Stop flirting with every person you see just to get my attention" Your legs failed you as you moan slowly in wanda's grasp, her hold was bruising on you as she whispered again "don't be a whore now, go wait in the car I'll be there in a bit"
as you were waiting for her impatiently in the car and afraid of what to expect next, you heard the car door open and Wanda got in, you didn't say anything. not even a word. her too. the car ride was silent. so silent you could even hear your heartbeat and it was fast. you were sure Wanda heard it
after getting home Wanda softly told you to go and wait in her bedroom like a good girl and you did. not cuz you were a patient woman no no no you were the most impatient girl in the world according to Wanda but you just wanted to make her happy.
after a bit she came in. You saw a bulge inside her pants. looking up at her, sitting on the bed on all your fours she came up to you and held your jaw softly
"you look so good like that, on mommy's bed like a good little slut" Wanda wouldn't be at fault if she thought you came right there, and then because of the moan you let out on the nickname Wanda referred to herself as. but she shrugged it off only smirking at the sight
"strip. slowly." you start striping taking off your dress first, Wanda's eyes on you as she starts undressing herself too making you gasp at the sight of her.
"you're so beautiful," you said as you worshipped her body just by your eyes, giving herself a moment or two to smile and blush at your compliment, she said sternly "Less talking, let's put that mouth to better use yeah?"
she took off her pants and underwear revealing a scarlet strap attached to her as you look at it and drool "Open up show mommy how good of a slut you can be" she said as you open your mouth tongue out, she guide the strap inside your mouth not even half of it and you were already gagging, it was bigger than anything you've taken before but Wanda didn't care, your gags and whimper were music to her ears.
losing herself in the pleasure she started thrusting inside your mouth as you sat there drooling, she threw a sadistic smile your way and said "I think we just found the perfect way to keep your mouth shut"
Wanda pulls out suddenly, your face covered in sweat and tears, and lays down on the bed
"come here ride my strap," she said patting her lap, gasping for air your breath shaky from the previous encounter you said
"y yes mommy"
slowly, you lower yourself onto her strap, your eyes locked with hers as you whispered "It's too big"
Wanda pouted her lips with fake pity "Aw is it?" you nodded as she looked at you "Is it too big for my little whore huh?" you nodded again not breaking eye contact
"fucking say it then. you can speak" Wanda said sternly placing a sharp slap on your ass, just as you were about to say Wanda force your hips down onto her strap "Too late" You bit your lip feeling her strap penetrate deeper into your wet slit
"Mommy hurts please ah" moans and gasps. it was all you could let out as Wanda ignored all of it and thrust your hips up and down on her strap, tits bouncing with the force.
your body trembling as you take her deeper inside you, suddenly you feel a sharp slap against your tits just as a humiliating spit was delivered on your face, spit drips from your mouth onto your chest as she slaps your tits repeatedly
"Mommy too much-gonna cum please" you plead at her "Come for mommy honey let it out" You came just as soon as those words left her mouth, she didn't stop. turning you guys around so she was on top she started thrusting with all her might as the bed started moving
"you know how badly mommy wanted to fuck that pussy from the very first time she saw you huh?" she whispered in your ear making you moan as she kept thursting "How I touched myself at the thought of being inside you fucking you so deep your legs wouldn't work for weeks? it was a torture not being able to fuck you every moment I saw you I just wanted to bend you over and take you" The dirty confessions only added fuel to the fire as you were already close
"please Mommy" you said weakly as she thoroughly fucked you, the room filling with noises of skin slapping together, "Please what? say it, baby"
"please I'm gonna cum again" you say looking up at her, "cum again for me then you don't need my permission"
just as you were about to cum she reaches down to rub your clit "NO PLEASE NO!" was the last thing you said when you lost control completely and squirted everywhere, not knowing what happened you looked at Wanda who was smirking smugly as she pulled out of you slowly and took off the strap throwing it down the bed
"Mommy I've never done that I'm sorry I don't know what happened" Wanda looked you down with admiration as she cooed cupping your face "Oh baby no that's okay you did good it was so good" she softly kissed you, leaving small kisses down your neck to your stomach until she reached between your legs
"no too much, can't." you tried squirming away but her strong hands held you in place "Just trust me" She raised her eyebrows and scanned your face for any hesitations as she dived down and carefully cleaned you up making sure not to overstimulate you
she sat back up "You taste so good", blushing at her compliment you muttered a "thank you"
"so adorable" Taking you in her arms and holding you against her she whispered sweet nothings into your ear through the whole time until you fell asleep in her arms, she looked at you knowing you were hers now. for forever.
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theemporium · 10 months ago
Text
a wee blurb based off this and a conversation with @scuderiahoney 🤠
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Oscar Piastri never got drunk, at least not in front of his fellow Formula One colleagues. 
It wasn’t obvious at first. He was a rookie, a new kid on the grid, the new guy who kind of started off with a bang before he even sat in the car with all the drama surrounding his contract. It wasn’t out of this world to assume he was a little shy and didn’t feel all that comfortable getting drunk with people who had known each other for years. 
But the season progressed and friendships grew, and yet still Oscar Piastri just never seemed to get drunk. 
He would have a drink or two, maybe a bottle of beer on top if he had a big meal beforehand. But he never passed the point of tipsy, never passed the point where he wasn’t totally aware of what he was doing. 
Lando had cornered Logan Sargeant after one of the races, hell bent on trying to figure out what the deal was with his teammate. 
“So what’s Oscar’s deal with drinking?” 
The blond turned to him, brows raised in surprise. “What?” 
“What’s his deal? Why does he not go beyond three drinks?” Lando questioned, insistent and eager for answers. 
“I don’t think that’s in my place to say—” Logan started before he was cut off. 
“Is he a recovering alcoholic?” 
Logan blinked. “What?” 
“I’m not judging!” Lando quickly added, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’d just feel like a right dick if I was pushing him to do something he was recovering from, you know?” 
“And you went straight to alcoholism?” Logan shook his head. “Dude, did it ever occur to you that maybe he just doesn’t like drinking?” 
Lando narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Have you ever seen him drunk?” 
Logan paused, only for a few seconds but it was enough to make the Brit gasp. 
“You have!” Lando grinned when he noticed a flush spread across Logan’s face. “Oh god, that must mean it’s embarrassing! What’s the deal, huh? Does he start stripping after four drinks? Get angry? Turn into the Incredible Hulk?” 
Logan rolled his eyes. “I don’t think Oscar would appreciate me saying, he gets shy about it.”
The Brit let out a huff. “You’re no fun to gossip with, Sargeant.” 
But as it would turn out, Lando and the rest of the grid would find out exactly why Oscar never went beyond his three drink limit in the Aussie’s second season. 
The season was young, the car was good and by some fucking miracle, Oscar had found himself on the podium at his home race. It was a thrill he never expected to feel, it was a buzz that he felt himself slowly becoming addicted to. And the fact there was a large group of people he called home cheering him on when he accepted his trophy definitely didn’t help. 
He was on a high and he didn’t want to stop—and neither did the drinks. It seemed like every driver he bumped into in the small club seemed eager to buy him a drink to celebrate, and Oscar was so high on adrenaline that he couldn’t bring himself to care about his limit. 
It was somewhere after his fifth drink and his third round of shots when Lando found him. He looked lost as he stood in the middle of the dance floor, his lips turned down (almost in a pout) and his wide eyes looking around the place. 
Lando frowned, making his way over as he clapped his teammate on the shoulder. “You all good, mate?” 
To his surprise, Oscar shrugged his hand off with a frown. “No.”
Lando blinked, something quite like concern bubbling inside him. “No? Did something happen?” 
“I—” Oscar paused as he continued to look around the club. “I want her.” 
“Huh?” 
“I want—” Oscar let out a frustrated noise, almost a bit like a whine. “I want my girl. Where’s my girl?” 
Realisation slowly dawned on Lando as he noted the fact you weren’t with your boyfriend. He knew you joined them at the club, the three of you had taken a taxi together but he hadn’t seen you in a few hours. 
“Uh, I don’t know, mate,” Lando answered honestly, which didn’t feel the right thing to say as Oscar began to push through the crowd. “Woah, Oscar—”
“I want my girl,” Oscar muttered once again, barely audible over the blasting music. 
Lando was quick to follow him through the crowd, aimlessly trying to help and make Oscar stand in one place so they could text you but the boy seemed hell bent on having you in his arms in that second. 
It took five minutes—five long, agonising minutes—before they found you. The second Oscar’s eyes landed on you, it was like the pouty boy from before was nowhere to be seen as a huge grin took over his face. 
“MY GIRL!” 
You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as your boyfriend barrelled towards you, wrapping his arms around you and practically pressing every inch of his body against yours. 
Lando watched as you hugged him back, as your grin matched his whilst you pressed a kiss to his cheek. He waited for the two of you to pull apart, to stand shoulder to shoulder because that was usually as touchy as either of you got in public. 
But Oscar didn’t let go. 
“Baby,” you murmured, your voice soft and amused as Oscar nuzzled his head further into the crook of your neck. 
“Uh,” Lando couldn’t even help himself, the alcohol in his system fuelling his confusion and loose lips. “Is he okay?” 
You turned to the Brit, a smile on your lips. “Oh yeah, he just gets a bit…clingy when he’s drunk.” 
“M’not clingy,” Oscar grumbled but he made no move to pull himself away from you. 
“Of course not,” you mused as your hands fell to either side of his cheeks, lifting his head enough to press a kiss to his forehead before letting it fall down to lean on your shoulder again. You turned to Lando with a shrug. “We’ll probably head out now. You joining us?” 
“Nah,” Lando waved you off, still somewhat flabbergasted by what he was witnessing. “You think you’ll get him home alright by yourself?” 
You snorted. “He’s basically a big baby at this point, I’ve got him.” 
“M’not a baby,” Oscar huffed out. 
You only grinned in response. “C’mon, baby, let’s go.” 
Oscar lifted his head, blinking slowly with a hopeful look on his face. “Cuddles?” 
“Cuddles,” you confirmed, waving the Brit goodbye before you made your way towards the exit of the club. 
Lando stood there, mouth agape as he stared at your parting figures when Logan found him. The American was grinning from ear to ear, taking a long dreg from his beer bottle. 
“It would’ve been less of a mindfuck if he was an alcoholic, right?” Logan commented with a snort. 
“I feel…dirty seeing him so touchy,” Lando whispered. 
Logan laughed. “Yeah, just be glad you haven’t seen him when he’s high yet.” 
Lando’s head snapped around, looking both intrigued and alarmed. “Why? What is he like when he’s high?” 
The boy grinned wider.
“LOGAN, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”
.
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latenightdaydreams · 6 months ago
Note
I'm thinking how Konig would react when his wife call him with full him in an argument (about culture bc I'm Asian ehe), like it's a sign of seriousness.
It's the same in my culture! I love thinking about giant König just freezing knowing he went too far😶
Laundry Day (fem)
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, argument, fluff
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König has recently retired so that means that he is home constantly now. It means that you both get to spend a lot of time together and you love it, but sometimes he talks to you as Colonel König instead of just your Kö. Today was one of those days.
König comes into the laundry room wearing a towel around his waist as he has just gotten out of the shower. He is holding black workout shorts in his hand with an annoyed look on his face.
“Y/n, you didn’t wash my gym clothes?”
“No, today I only washed bed sheets and towels so far, I’ll get to them.”
“Nien, I told you to wash them last night.” He snaps back quickly.
At this point König is becoming very demanding and his voice has become stern, as if you’re his subordinate. You continue to fold towels and place them into the laundry basket. Trying to remain calm to not make König explode further. After a lifetime in the military, he has remaining traumas and it causes him to act out. You try to not take it so personally, but it’s hard.
“I know, but I wasn’t aware you needed them for today.”
“Of course I would, I work out every day!” He raises his voice slightly.
You take a deep breath, placing the towel down and turning to him. “Yes, but I wasn’t aware that you had no more clean-”
“Why would I ask you if I had clean clothes!” He cuts you off and yells this time.
You tighten your jaw and glare at him. You might be smaller than him, but you aren’t going to just let him walk all over you.
“Maybe next time you should inform me of your schedule and I-”
“Ich bin dein Ehemann! You do what I say, when I ask!” König’s pale face turns bright red as he yells at you, holding up his shorts in a bit of blind rage directed at you.
You’ve had enough, he knows better than to speak to you this way. You toss the basket of clean towels on the floor and turn towards him. The look in your eyes puts fear in the giant man’s heart.
“Alexander Jan König! You DO NOT speak to me that way!” Your voice is loud and stern.
König looks at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. He is stunned, he isn’t used to people speaking to him like that; especially not his sweet wife. He doesn’t say anything. His face softens and his shoulders drop. His pale blue eyes glued to you, he’s still too scared to move or say anything.
“Do you understand?!”
“Ja-y-yes.” He stumbles over his words as he stands up straight.
“Good!” you walk past him out of the laundry room and he just watches you go before looking back down at the towels on the floor. He listens to you stomp away and slam the bedroom door. He is terrified, but also slightly aroused. 
He quickly bends down and begins to clean up the towels on the floor. He begins to start the washer to clean them again for you, he also plans on drying and folding. He goes back to the bathroom and grabs his own gym clothes and gets them ready to be washed next. 
Going into the kitchen, he saw dishes in the sink and began to wash them for you. He looks at the clock once he is done and only twenty minutes have passed, but he is still in his towel from the shower so he tries to go up into the bedroom to see if you’re okay.
As you sit on the bed with your arms crossed, still angry, you hear a light knock at the bedroom door.
“Liebling?” König’s voice is gentle as if he’s talking to a child.
“What?”
König opens the door slightly and pokes his head in. His eyes meet yours and he smiles at you timidly.
“Hallo mein Herz, can I come in?”
“Sure.”
König walks in like a dog with his tail between his legs. Your eyes travel over his attractive body as he makes his way to the bed and sits at the edge.
“I-I’m sorry…” the words struggle to leave his lips. Not because he doesn’t feel bad, but because his ego is so fucking big. “I’m sorry I snapped.”
You continue to just sit there and look at him as his head is dropped and his gaze is to the floor, “And what else?”
He turns his head to the side to look at you but quickly looks back away when he sees how mad you still are.
“And I’ll never do it again.”
“And?”
“I’ll take you out tonight for dinner, I can buy you whatever you want.”
You just look at him, up and down. A small smile comes up across your lips. You love to see this behemoth war criminal melt at your feet like this.
“Good. I also want a massage.”
“Absolutely.” König nods while he looks at you. “I’m very sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
König looks at you with a genuine sympathetic look in his eyes. You're the one person in this world that understands him, he never meant to hurt or lash out at you.
“Thank you for apologizing Kö.”
He reaches his hand out for yours with a small smile on his lips. You reach out and intertwin your fingers with his. König can feel himself begin to relax as he squeezes your hand.
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f1goat · 8 months ago
Text
more than friends ; lando norris + part five
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile
part one / part two / part three / part four
You can’t stop staring at Lando. Everyone else around you is doing the exact same, you’re sure of it. He’s absolutely glowing right now. After his deleted lap time from the qualifications yesterday, he came back stronger then ever. It’s only seconds before they’ll hand him his deserved trophy for the second place from this race. A smile is plastered on your face while staring at Lando. Podiums look good on him. Insanely good. 
Lando is literally glowing. Most people would blame it on the sweat, but you can’t even think about things like that right now. All logic has left your brain, you can only focus on Lando and how good he looks. 
“You did so good!” You almost scream when Lando comes to you after his podium. He’s still wearing that glow from his podium. You can smell the scent of expensive champagne. What if you would kiss Lando right now, would you taste the champagne? If there weren’t this many people around you, you’d have loved to find that out. While Lando doesn’t talk at first, you continue to praise him and his race. Lando gives you a hug, something you gladly return. 
“You know what this means, right babygirl?” Lando whispers in your ear while hugging you. You think back at the conversations between you two from earlier. Is he serious? This is what he’s thinking about right now? You wait for Lando to continue, he must mean something else. “I want you,” Lando speaks up again in a slow but firm way, “in my drivers room, so I can get my celebration right after debrief.” 
You feel your cheeks heating up, they are red now for sure. 
“Can you do that for me babygirl?” Lando continues to ask you. You can’t seem to get out any word right now, so you answer him with a nod. If you did know what to say, you’re sure the words would get lost on your tongue. Lando makes things even worse by pressing a small kiss against your forehead. You wish you could feel his lips on yours right now, but you’re fully aware of all the cameras around you. Tomorrow - or maybe even this afternoon already - you will see this fragment of your life all over social media.
You’re no stranger to social media, but whenever Lando and you make an appearance together somewhere you’re socials seem to fill up with hate. 
Lando walks away from you. It’s clear what you need to do right now. He was quite obvious about his wishes and who are you to deny those for him? Without thinking about it further, you walk back towards the McLaren motorhome. It’s not hard to get into Lando his drivers room, probably because everyone around you knows who you are - and that if they say no, they’ll have to deal with an angry Lando, but you don’t know about that. Instead of making some conversation with the cheerful people who are still around, you walk straight towards Lando his drivers room. 
When you enter his room, you start to feel a bit nervous. What does Lando expect from you? He made his wishes clear, yesterday and today. Apparently he wants to eat you out? The thought alone makes you feel even more nervous. Although you have no idea why. Lando is probably pretty good at it, so it will be more of a celebration for you then for him. Right? Maybe it’s the thought of Lando seeing everything of you that makes you nervous. He hasn’t seen your private parts before. What if they don’t look good enough? Normally Lando dates models, you bet they look a lot better then you. 
You try to shake off the negative thoughts and focus on your Instagram. The story you posted a it earlier about Lando on his podium, is getting a lot of reactions. You scroll through every one of them. When you see a notification from Lando popping up, you almost drop your phone on the floor. Is he serious?
Lando: 5 minutes babe x
Lando: maybe you can already lose some clothes :))
Only the thought about you waiting for Lando in his drivers room in only your lingerie - or maybe even naked, makes you feel too many things at once. Your stomach tightens when you think about it, you don’t know if it’s because of excitement or nerves. Without realizing it, you’re already kicking off your sneakers. Your next movements are going on automatic pilot. At this moment you don’t think about all the people who can simply just walk in and see you like this. It doesn’t even come up in your mind right now. You can only focus on doing what Lando asked you and pleasing him. In a short period of time, the floor is covered in the clothes you were wearing before. The only thing left on your body is your lingerie. It’s a simple black set, nothing too exciting but it does look nice. You think about buying an orange set someday. Are you going to keep it on or not? You doubt. Eventually you decide to fuck it and take it off as well.
You thank the warm weather of today and of this country. The thought of Lando who can be here any second, is enough to make you shiver. It feels strange to wait for Lando naked, certainly while being in his drivers room. Then you realize that Lando has never seen you like this before. The cons are starting to weight up. You start to doubt yourself more and more. What if he doesn’t like the way you look?
When the door opens you’re extremely aware of your surroundings and your own bareness. Why does it only occur to you now that literally everyone can walk in here? You let out a relieved sound when you see that it’s Lando who opened the door. Lando has never closed a door faster. When he sees the way you’re waiting for him, he hurries himself inside the room and closes the door quickly behind himself. After that he’s even more hurried to come close to you. 
Lando can’t tear his eyes away from you. He realizes that he’s staring, maybe he’s even making you uncomfortable with his staring, but he can’t stop. At this moment he doesn’t even think about looking away from you. He never saw you like this before. Everything that happened earlier between you two always happened with you in clothes. Of course, he had some information about your body from the summery looks and the bikinis. But still, this is mind-blowing to him. It’s even better then he imagined and he imagined it quite often… He lets his gaze go over every small detail of your body.
For now his focus is onto your breasts, he notices the way your nipples are sticking out. They resemble small pebbles in his mind. He wants nothing more then to shower them in kisses right now. He wants to feel them in his mouth until he feels them hardenen on his tongue, only to switch to the other one after that and experience it again. He lets his stare slide towards your most private parts. You’re sitting with your legs crossed over each other. He wants to see more of you. He wants to see everything from you. 
It can’t be right that you’re the girl who has made the most impact on him. He doesn’t even need to think about all the other girls to know for sure you’re the most beautiful one. Seeing you naked has caused him to be rock hard in only seconds. His dick is throbbing painfully. He tries to remember himself that this is all about you - and not about him, but it’s hard to stop thinking about his own pleasure while feeling as turned on as now. You’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, with and without clothes, and it’s doing way too much to him right now.
You start to feel a bit uncomfortable with Lando his current silence. Was it a mistake to undress this far already? Maybe you should ask him. When you start to think about what to question him, Lando lets out a soft sound. It almost sound likes a moan. You look at him. Lando is still taking in your body. It looks like he’s looking at you full with adoration and lust, or are you making that up? 
Lando walks closer to you. He takes his time to get close in front of you. When he’s finally standing in front of you, he is quick to lower himself so he’s on the same level as you. Then he eagerly puts his lips onto yours. He gives you a soft peck on your lips, before taking a seat next to you. Lando pulls you onto his lap. He makes sure you face him. At this moment he wants to see everything from your body the whole time. 
He presses a kiss against your neck. “Fucking hell babygirl,” he finally mutters. He presses another kiss against your body, this time it’s to your collarbone. “I didn’t expect you to be naked already,” Lando continues, “such a beautiful surprise.” He presses his lips against your body again and presses multiple kisses against it. Slowly he’s getting closer to your breasts. 
You’re already trembling under Lando his touch. He lets out a low groan. “Can I touch you babygirl?” He asks you. You’re quick to tell him yes. Lando takes one of your breasts into his hand, softly feeling around it. He looks at you to focus on your facial expressions, hopefully to find out what you like - and more importantly, what not. After softly feeling around your tit, he takes it in his hand and kneads it softly. 
“Such a good girl,” Lando tells you. 
Your stomach tightens. Your cheeks redden once again. Such small words, but their impact is massive.
“Such a beautiful, good girl,” Lando whispers softly. 
Lando his attention switches to your tits. Your glad about it, because it’s probably embarrassing how red your cheeks are right now. Lando lowers his face to get closer to your tits. He’s still kneading one of them. You almost jump up when you feel his lips against your other boob. He presses soft kisses against it before he starts to suck on the soft skin. You quietly follow his movements with your eyes, not looking away for the tiniest bit. It doesn’t take Lando long before pressing a kiss against your hardened nipple. After that he takes your nipple inside his mouth. You feel him sucking on it softly.
When Lando moves back, you let out a soft whimper. Lando changes his movements. He moves his hand away from your breast, slowly letting it slide lower on your body. In the mean time he lets his mouth hoover over your other boob. It doesn’t take long before he takes your nipple in his mouth. Softly sucking it in again. It surprises you when you feel your pussy clenching. It amazes you when you notice that you feel yourself getting more wet. Lando his mouth is doing all kind of things to you, you can’t complain about one tiny part of it. 
He removes his lips from your breast again. His hands are moving downwards. Quickly getting closer to your private parts. It annoys you that he doesn’t touch you where you need him. He keeps his hand barely above your pussy. You don’t even realize it when you let out a soft whine. 
Lando on the other hand is quick to notice the sound. “What’s wrong babygirl?” He asks you. You notice the small smirk that has appeared on his face. It makes you realize that he’s teasing you like this on purpose. Fucking tease. You want to tell him, but every word that leaves your mouth is begging Lando to do something about the way you’re feeling. 
“I need you,” you softly whimper.
Lando lets out a low groan. Animalistic even. The whiny undertone in your voice makes him lose his mind. He moves himself lower, making sure to take a good position in front of you. You’re still sitting on the couch, Lando is onto his knees in front of you. He takes your legs into his hands, spreading them slowly for himself. 
You look at Lando, but he doesn’t look back. All his attention is on your pussy right now. Before you can feel uncomfortable, awkward or nervous about it - Lando starts to shower you with compliments about it.
“Such a pretty pussy,” He tells you with a low voice. Carefully he slides his hand around it. He makes sure that he isn’t already touching your clit or entrance. Lando knows he’s teasing you, maybe too much even, but he can’t stop himself. He loves the soft combination from whimpers, whines and moans that are coming from your lips. It’s his celebration after all, right? When he takes a look at you, he’s quick to notice the frustrated look on your face. It makes him realize how much you need him right now. A feeling that makes him feel unbelievable good about himself. He wants you to never need anyone else like this. If it’s up to him, he’s the one who you need like this for the rest of your life.
He slides his fingers on your lips. Carefully spreading them a bit with his hands. Giving himself more to look at.
“So beautiful,” he continues to tell you. 
He lets his finger slides through your slit. It surprises him how wet you’re already are. His finger is quickly coated in your slick. 
“So wet already,” he murmurs to you.
He presses a soft kiss against the inside of your thigh. 
“Is that all for me babygirl?” He asks you. 
“Yes,” you’re quick to tell him. 
“Who’s the one who made you this wet?” Lando asks you. He knows the answer already, but he wants nothing more then to hear you say it. He needs to hear that he’s the one who caused this. 
“You Lan,” you softly confess, “it’s all because of you.”
Lando can’t withhold a soft moan after hearing your answer. He presses a few more kisses against your thighs. Slowly he moves closer to your pussy, but makes sure that he isn’t coming closer then your lips. You let out a frustrated whine.
“I need more,” you confess, “Please Lan.”
Lando presses a soft kiss against your clit this time.
“More,” you let out.
Lando grins. He softly slides his finger over your clit a couple times, but makes sure it’s still not enough for you. He presses more kisses against your inner thighs. A thought pops up in his head, what if he made you beg for it? Fuck that would be hot. His dick is getting even harder while thinking about it. 
“What do you want baby?” Lando asks you.
He makes sure his finger is dangerously close to your clit right now. Not onto it, but really close.
“You,” you whimper.
“No, no,” Lando tuts, “What do you want me to do?”
Lando his question makes you silent for a bit. He moves his finger even closer to your clit. Softly he touches it. It makes you tremble under his touch. According to you, it’s absolutely unfair what he’s doing to you. How can he makes you feel like this with barely touching you? For a few seconds you wonder if anyone else can ever makes you feel like this. You highly doubt it.
“If you don’t tell me baby, I can’t help you,” Lando teases you. 
“Fucking tease,” you groan.
“Tell me babygirl,” Lando continues to tease.
You let out a soft trail of whimpers. “Please Lan,” you softly say. He just shakes his head. “Can you please do something about it?” You continue. Lando shakes his head again. “Fuck Lando,” you groan, “just lick me please.” That seems to work. Lando doesn’t reply verbally, he moves his head as close as he can towards your pussy. 
He finally starts to do what you asked him. You remind yourself to tell him what you want sooner the next time - knowing Lando, he will be acting like this a whole lot more. Lando slowly licks around your vagina. He makes sure to lick every part of it before turning his attention to his clit. Still teasing you. When he finally reaches your clit, he presses a soft kiss against it. When you want to let out another beg - for Lando to finally do something, he already starts to place soft, small licks onto it. He’s making sure that he’s not going to fast, but also not to slow. He wants to do this right. He wants you to enjoy this just as much as he is doing right now. When you let out multiple moans, Lando increases his pace a bit.
In the mean time he slides his finger around your slit. He slowly brings his finger to your entrance, but doesn’t push it inside. Yet. Lando knows really well how much he’s teasing you, but he can’t help himself. He loves the way you response to him and the soft begs that are leaving your lips. All because of him. He has fallen in love with the desperate voice you use when you beg him for something. Lando wants to know for sure that he’s the one who makes you feel like this and that you need him. 
You buck your hips. Hopefully Lando gets the hint and finally puts his finger inside. Maybe even more then one now that you think about it. Lando doesn’t respond to your earlier movement. You open your eyes, which you had closes the whole time. To your surprise Lando is already looking at you. Staring even. Before you speak up, you admire the way he looks between your legs. You move your hands to his curls, softly tugging on them. 
Lando still makes soft licks onto your clitoris. It’s making you feel all kind of things. Sometimes he switches a bit and licks around your whole slit. But the things he’s doing to your clit right now, those are the best. Even though you still want more. Greedy, isn’t it?
“Lan,” you speak up with a soft voice. He raises his eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue. “I need more,” you tell him. Your cheeks redden from embarrassment when you tell him that. Lando removes his mouth from you and takes a good look at you. His fingers replace the movements his tongue made earlier. It still feels good, but not as good as his tongue.
“More?” He asks you. 
“Please,” you beg.
“Tell me what you want babygirl,” Lando states. He increases his pace with his finger. He likes looking at you while you look like this. You’re shaking underneath his touch. Moans are trembling over your lips like they’re your new language. Lando wishes he could save this memory so he could look back at it and enjoy every small detail again and again. His cock is throbbing even more painfully then before.
“How longer you take, how longer you will miss my tongue onto your pussy,” Lando tells you. He hears a soft whine leaving your lips. 
“I need your fingers,” you eventually confess.
Lando still doesn’t give you what you want. “Ask me,” he tells you sternly. 
“Can you finger me?” You ask Lando softly with red cheeks. Before he can react to you, you’re already add another few words. “Please Lan?”
His boner almost explodes when he hears to soft ‘please Lan’ coming from your lips. He doesn’t say anything anymore. He’s quick to move his lips back to your clit and to move his fingers to your entrance again. This time he licks your clit even faster. He hear hard moans coming from you. Is it bad that he’s already getting addicted to the sound of your moans? He wants to be the only one who ever hears these sounds coming from your lips. He never wants to share this sound with anyone else. 
Lando pushes one of his fingers softly inside you. He feels your walls clenching around his finger. Easily he pushes in and outside of you. It doesn’t take him long before adding another finger. He increases his pace and really starts to finger fuck you. In the mean time he focuses on eating you out. He softly sucks on your clit. It makes you almost scream from pleasure. 
“Fuck Lan,” you moan when he sucks even harder on your clit.
He doesn’t response verbally, but he keeps increasing his pace. He even adds a third finger. Your wells are starting to clench around his fingers more and more. Patiently he waits for you to come. He feels your clitoris starting to throb inside his mouth. You feel your stomach tighten. Moans keep coming out of your mouth. You can’t stop yourself. 
“I’m close,” you tell Lando. He reacts by sucking even harder. He moves his fingers even faster inside you. He gives all his attention to the soft, spongy spot inside you. You let out another hard moan. 
“Can I come?” You suddenly ask him.
Lando feels overwhelmed by your sudden question. Fuck. It’s insane how it feels that you’re asking him for permission to come. You’ll literally be the death of him. While Lando doesn’t know how to respond at first, you are having more trouble with holding back your orgasm. The waves of pleasure are already hitting over you in a fast pace. You’re really close.
“Lan?” You quickly ask, hoping that he will respond to your question.
He removes his lips from your clit for a couple seconds. Not any longer then necessary. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you before taking your clit back in his mouth again. Softly sucking it before licking it with a fast pace. He focuses his gaze on your face. He can’t look away from you. When your orgasm hits you, Lando notices everything about it. He sees the way you close your eyes when the first waves hit you. He notices the way your lips are partly open, only to let out a couple soft moans. When you press your legs a bit more together, Lando stops his movements and pulls back. He doesn’t want to overstimulate you. At least, not today. It would be a nice thing to do in the future. 
Lando waits for you to say something. In the mean time he sucks your wetness off his own fingers. He takes place next to you on the couch. You quickly let your body rest against him. 
“Fuck,” you mutter, “that was really good.”
Lando shows you a small grin. “Glad you liked it,” he says. His cock is still throbbing inside of his race suit. “You taste better then the champagne,” he tells you. You let out a laugh. Without thinking about it you press a kiss against Lando his lips, he’s quick to turn it into more. When his tongue slides into your mouth, you taste the faint tase of your own slit on his tongue combined with the bitter taste of champagne. 
Then you notice Lando’s bulge in his race suit. Did eating you out make him this hard? You let your hand rest on his boner. 
“Maybe I can do something for you as well,” you tell Lando with a soft voice.
“I wish,” he grunts almost annoyed, “but we have a dinner and a party to get ready for.”
“Maybe later tonight?” You suggest. 
“I like the way your thinking babygirl,” Lando softly laughs. 
“You still deserve a celebration as well,” you tell Lando. 
“Believe me babygirl, this was a whole celebration,” he confesses, “Next time I don’t even want to stop after your first orgasm.”
“You think I can cum more then once?” You ask confused.
“Add a lesson about overstimulation to your teaching plan babe,” Lando tells you jokingly, but none of his words are a joke. He wants to spend the whole evening between your legs and pull every orgasm out of you that you have. Leaving not even one of them for anyone else.
“Deal,” you react.
Lando can only smile after that. How did this even happen to him? It feels like he’s living his dream, but when he thinks about the fact that you’re still ‘just friends’ they shatter apart. 
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