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breadbrobin · 3 months

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hello, hello!! first of all, i just wanna tell you that your fics got me kickin' my feet and shi. with that said, can i request a luke castellan x gn! reader where reader is a minor god's kid and so they're staying at cabin 11 it was just this fluffy thing where luke and them are just being domestic and all that, like almost acting like parents to the younger kids? i'm such a sucker for domestic fluff it's INSANE

lego blocks

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[gn!child of eos reader]

summary: parental figures are hard to come by at camp half-blood, so you and luke (barely old enough to not need them yourselves) take up the mantle where you can. and, well, it’s the hermes cabin, so it’s a little more chaotic than anyone bargained for.

warnings: like two minor swear words, pure fluff, kissing, reader is called pretty (but reader is still gn)

word count: 1.4k

(hiiii omg thank you for this request it’s so cute and was so fun to write!! and thank you for your compliments ahhh you’re so sweet! AND DOMESTIC FLUFF IS WHERE ITS AT FR i can’t believe i haven’t written any before smhhhh)

——————————————

scarcely a day in the hermes cabin went by without an injury, an issue or an altercation.

just in the last week alone, you’d seen a fist fight, an argument, many stolen belongings, three bad nightmares and six threats of death or violence. it was your job (unofficially) to diffuse the tension. and it was luke’s job (officially) to have your back.

just like every morning, you woke up at dawn. as a child of eos, goddess of the dawn, you were always awake with the sun. the moment dawn struck, you, like the apollo cabin, snapped awake. it was something you’d complained with them about many times, but it eventually became something you found yourself at least trying to enjoy.

you slipped out of bed quietly and padded across the dim cabin to the door, stepping out onto the porch to watch as the sky turned from dark blues to soft pinks.

just as the sun was beginning to peek through the trees, you heard footsteps behind you.

“morning,” luke’s gravelly morning voice reached you as he rested his chin on your shoulder and hugged you from behind. “pretty today.”

“it is,” you sighed contently, leaning back into him.

he yawned. “meant you.”

you smiled and turned in his arms, pressing a kiss just beside his lips. he pouted.

“brush your teeth first, and then i’ll kiss you properly,” you teased.

he just sighed a little, a small gracing his face, before looking away to watch the sunrise.

you had only around ten minutes before you had to wake everyone else in the cabin up, and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to enjoy the peaceful quiet and sweet chirping of birds in the trees for as long as you could.

it would become hectic later, when you had to rouse everyone from their sleep and rush them to the dining pavilion for breakfast. you never enjoyed it, and you often wondered how luke had managed it on his own before you came along. so you soaked up the sun rays peeking through the leaves, watching as the world around you turned from blue to gold in a dazzling array of colours that made you ever grateful for your parentage, and relaxed in the warmth of luke’s embrace. the peace wouldn’t last for long. it never did.

“tom, put the knife down!” you called across the room as you moved a chess piece along the board. a groan came from a few bunks over and the sound of a knife hitting the floor echoed. “and, max, will you please stop trying to fight jennifer? she’s gonna kick your ass again, and i’m not even gonna tell her off or patch you up.”

a disappointed, “fine!” came back in return, followed by jennifer’s teasing.

“jennifer!”

“sorry!” she replied.

your chess opponent, a young girl you were almost sure was a daughter of athena, scowled at your move and studied the board, giving you a chance to look around at the hermes cabin.

it was your scheduled downtime between activities and dinner, and while some of the residents of cabin 11 were out around camp, many were inside playing games or hanging out. so, that was where you were—diffusing the tension every time you had to and pretending to enjoy chess because sandy really wanted to play, and who were you to deny her hobbies?

two hands landed on your shoulders and a kiss pressed to your cheek. you could smell the familiar scent of pine, sword polish and leather—luke.

“hey, babe,” he said softly. “any issues?”

sandy moved a piece on the board. “check.”

“again?” you leaned forward in shock. “okay, uh… yeah, the only issue is how i win this game, actually. oh, and tom’s got that knife back somehow and he won’t stop threatening khalid with it. i’m a little concerned about them. max and jen should be fine now, but maybe check on them? oh, and make sure callie hasn’t stolen any snacks again? last time, she got really sick and—“

“and we stayed up all night making sure she was okay, i remember. i’ll check on presley too. make sure he’s not drawing on the walls again.” luke patted your shoulders gently as he stepped away. “i got it. you focus on winning.”

“i’m trying,” you pouted. realistically, you weren’t too bad at chess. however, you felt like it was only fair to give sandy a chance to show off, since she’d been in the hermes cabin, unclaimed, for a month now. you knew how that felt. before your mother claimed you, you’d been unclaimed for just under two months. in all fairness, you’d always flown under the radar, until your sunshine and smiles reputation breached the walls you’d attempted to build up and you started dating the golden boy of camp half-blood. the second that had happened, just over seven months ago, everything changed. suddenly, you had respect, appreciation, love, family. so maybe you didn’t have your own cabin. and maybe you were stuck in one that was full to the brim of kids. and maybe you had to be somewhat of a parent for many of those kids—those who missed their families, who had never had families, who had never had a place to call their own. but did you mind? not at all. it would have been impossible without luke though. it was like he could read your mind sometimes. he knew, just as well as you did, all of the ins and outs of the kids in your cabin, how to appease the older kids, entertain the younger ones, and make sure the cabin was still standing by the end of the day. you’d never know what you did in a past life to deserve him, but it had to have been something goddamn saintly.

finally, you moved a piece. you knew it would easily put you in checkmate, but you didn’t mind.

sandy’s eyes lit up. she moved her knight into position and looked up at you, grinning widely. “checkmate!”

“no way!” you protested. “how did you even—?”

“i’m good at chess.” she blushed a little.

“uh, yeah, you are.” you extended a hand over the small table to her. “good game.”

“good game.” she shook your hand with a smile and skipped away to gloat to her friends.

luke’s arm slipped around your shoulders as he sat next to you. “you let her win?”

“no, of course not,” you lied with a smile. “and if i did i’d never compromise my dignity by telling you.”

you could see his smile out of the corner of your eye. “sure. my bad.”

you hummed and turned to kiss him, but just before your lips could meet, a resounding “ew!!” echoed through the cabin.

you pulled away to see what was going on. maybe another bug needed dealing with? or someone had thrown up or wet their pants? no. everyone was staring at you and luke. you frowned. “wait, what?”

“you guys were about to kiss,” tom cringed, somehow holding a new knife. “that’s gross.”

luke laughed while you shook your head in amusement.

“it’s not gross!” you protested. “and put that knife down.”

“it is!” one of the slightly older girls exclaimed as tom dropped the knife on his bunk with a groan.

murmurs of agreement followed.

you laughed along with luke as he cupped your cheek in his hand and kissed you, deliberately slow and sweet, much to the chagrin of the campers around you.

you pulled away first, laughing, as someone threw a lego block at you and luke, hitting you in the arm lightly.

“hey!” luke laughed and tossed it back in their general direction. “no one throws lego blocks at my partner.”

before either of you could do anything, lego blocks were flying.

through your laughs and trying to hide behind luke as a shield, you could only feel love for your boyfriend and the kids you both chose to spend your time looking after. despite the fact that they threw legos at you, and despite the fact that you weren’t related to any of them. this was your family. a messed up, too big, far too crowded unit of kids and teenagers, all crammed in one room, connected by two things alone: the fact that you were all thrust into this messed up magical world with no preparation, and love.

and lego blocks, apparently.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell

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cryptocollectibles · 6 months

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Garbage Pail Kids Johnny One-Note (1986) by Topps

175b Johnny One-Note, Drawn by John Pound and Tom Bunk.

#Garbage Pail Kids #Johnny One-Note #John Pound #Tom Bunk #1986 #Etsy #Trading Cards #Stickers #Topps #Farts #Toot #Horns #GPK

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graphicpolicy · 4 months

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Preview: Garbage Pail Kids: Trashin Through Time #3

Garbage Pail Kids: Trashin Through Time #3 preview. Adam Bomb leads a daring raid on the Topps Gum Headquarters #comics #comicbooks #gpk

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#adam f. goldberg #chris meeks #comic books #Comics #dynamite entertainment #garbage pail kids: trashin through time #hans rodionoff #jeff zapata #lowell isaac #tom bunk

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billskeis · 1 month

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ᡣ𐭩 bus shenanigans w bill

it was mid day into the summer where you and the band were on world tour, travelling from place to place as the exhausting schedules had you all working to the bone.

of course, as part of their management team, you did everything in your power to keep the band in check.

water? done. snacks? already given. towels? passed around.

not to mention, the constant words of affirmation and reassurance that everything will be okay.

you were their escape of solace in the midst of youthful chaos.

“tomtom! where’s bill? i don’t think i’ve seen him at all today,” you pout.

“hmph, little cunt must still be sleeping. you know how he gets on tour,”

that’s right. when given the day off bill will not do anything but sleep. sleep until late evening, as unhealthy as it is, you understand from a rockstar point of view.

“ah.. okay! ‘m gonna go check up on him, see if he needs anything.”

“i don’t think that’s a good idea y/n,”

“huh?”

“ask georg or gustav, whenever we bother him during his nap time he throws a fit. gets all moody nd shit,”

“i find that hard to believe,” you cross your arms.

“alright, go see for yourself,”

“y’know what i will!”

tom clicks his tongue and sips on his coke, smirking as your figure disappears from within the bus foyer to go to where bill’s bunk was.

since you made it your mission to prove tom wrong due to your stubborn persona, it was only natural that you went to go see bill. little did you know about what bill had in store for you specifically if you had woken him.

“you’re in deep trouble, y/n.”

as you open the door to the even more cramped space, you see a figure adorned in all black under the thin fabric of a blanket covering the figure.

his body moves up and down as he breaths. sound asleep eh? you make small tip-toed steps towards the bunk bed.

“billy..? you sleeping in?”

you sit down on the hard mattress and couch under to fit yourself within the tiny space. patting bill’s still body, you attempt to wake him up.

“c’monnn you gotta wake up half the day is over and we have stuff to do—”

everything happened in a flash you don’t even know how you ended up in such a position.

bill is on top of you.

THE bill fucking kaulitz has you pinned down on the bunk bed. the grip he has on each of your wrists tighten and you wince at the pain. you don’t remember bill ever being that strong but he has been working out a bit more for their comeback.

his locs fall a down to tickle your cheeks. he looks down at you, pitiful. eyelids lowered as he gazes into yours with absolute darkness and lust. you feel yourself getting hot.

what the hell did you get yourself into?

“y/n. i was napping.”

“i-i know, but i figured that we have a lot on our plate we needed our lead singer,”

“did you? or did you wanna just come here and bother me because you just wanted to see me, hm?”

“u-um..”

he leans his face closer to yours, eyes never breaking contact as he slightly grins. he enjoys how worked out and shy you’re getting as you begin to get the cold sweats, shaking a bit.

“oh you little slut, you’re in big trouble now schatzi,”

bill begins to claw at your pants to take them off, thank god you didn’t wear anything that had any buttons or zippers because he would get so frustrated he’d rip the whole thing off of you.

“bill! there’s people on the b-bus..!”

“and? you were warned,”

“s-stop, please..”

“betcha tom already warned ya, but your pretty little head thought it was okay anyway..”

with the undressing of your pants came with your panties, that hid how coated your cunt was with slick.

truthfully and shamelessly, you were turned the fuck on.

bill wastes no time as he freed his hardened cock from his pyjama pants, already leaking with precum. as he rubs the tip up and down your slit, you whine at how sensitive you were. bill knew how to rile you up sensually or not, and it drove you nuts.

“please..”

“hmmm? can’t hear you mein maus.. gonna have to speak up.”

“please..! j-just get it over with—ah!”

you yelp at the sudden thrust of bill’s cock into your entrance. already balls deep, bill cannot help but let out a wanton moan as you clasp one of your hands on his mouth.

“fuuuck you drive me nuts..”

“q-quiet..!”

he licks at your hand playfully to which you immediately pull it away.

“b-bill!?”

chuckling, a smile is plastered on bill’s face as he sheaths his cock in and out of your pussy slowly.

“mm.. you’re so warm nd tight,” he moans as he uses both hands to caress the curves of your waist, hands exploring what’s his. he needed you, and craved you.

hey, at least he’s awake now.

bracing yourself, both his hands stop all movements as they now hold onto your waist tightly. with rhythmic thrusts, bill keeps a steady pace fucking into you as if it were his last time to.

he’s in a frenzy. bill cannot stop moving his hips. the loud squelching of how wet and slick your cunt furthered this need to fuck you into an oblivion.

bill doesn’t hear your pleads to ‘s-stop!’ or ‘slow down..’ he doesn’t notice the pool of cum and squirt mixed between where the two of you were joined on the bed sheets growing. he doesn’t notice your cunt tightening by the second and how you’ve already came.

words fall onto dead ears, your now babbling for him to stop as the pressure of his cock in your cunt makes pushes you further into ecstasy.

“b-billy! a-ah! i already came! i know now not to wake you up s-so p-pleaseeepleasepleaseplease slow down—ungggghhh..!” you attempt to whisper, but they come out as quiet screams instead.

as he snaps out of it, he takes a good look down at your body on top of him, eyes widening for a second but never stilling his movements.

“f-fuck y/n.. look at you, such a whore f’me.. me, and me only..”

“i—ugh—i can’t do this anymore.. they’re gonna hear us..,”

“pft, whatever. let them hear how much of a slut you become for my cock. you deserve this.”

you just want this to end. with a pussy all sore and sensitive from how big bill is, not to mention how with each thrust bill’s cock hits your cervix balls deep, you’re bound to not walk the next day.

bill places a kiss on your mouth, tongue assaulting every nook and cranny of your mouth as you try to keep up with him.

as his mouth leaves yours, you attempt to catch a breath from not only him kissing you but how his tip hits your g spot every single time he presses his dick into you.

“h-hahh.. bill..” you wrap your arms around his neck.

“mein schatz.. these visits better become a daily thing, wanna punish you over and over again till’ you pass out from how good i fuck you.”

georg walks into the shaking tour bus with gustav after their smoke break.

tom is sitting on the couch eating his skittles and watching the small television propped up on one of the bus walls.

“didn’t you warn her?” georg asks as he hands tom back his lighter.

your moans can be heard from the opposite side of the bus. seems as though you stopped caring about the noise.

“i did, holy shit they been at it for like an hour now..”

“EW GUSTAV YOU’RE HARD.”

“shut the fuck up.” as he covers his lap with a pillow.

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #2000s #fyp #billskeis

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steamedtangerine · 2 months

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Tell-It-Like_It-Is Video Rental Categories

from Mad Magazine #354 (2/97)

illustrated by Tom Bunk

#idiocracy #snl #toons #mad

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ronearoundblindly · 2 months

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Hideout (1)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Puppy, (see premise post or series)

Summary: An ultra-shy man named Grant arrives with various friends to your family-owned motel. He opens up slowly over the months...and grows a fantastic beard. 🤭

While this part has no mature situations, this series will be 18+ only. MINORS DNI. This is mostly pure setup for the smut in every future chapter. Your media consumption is your responsibility; please choose for yourself if these matters trigger you. If so, there is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this work is not it! WC ~2k

He first arrives with only his friend—two fit fellas, one white, one black. They pay in cash, share a double room. The most information you get is Tom Smith, the more open of the two, joking that you’ll have to excuse Grant’s shyness.

Grant doesn’t seem to respond to his own name.

He’s a beefy blond, and your impression is the man doesn’t need to have a lot going on up top to get by in life. You do try not to judge, though. Your job is more about keen observation and recognizing the needs of your guests.

These two guests need privacy. They aren’t unfriendly, but they are not chatty. They go as quickly as they came. One night. The room is slept in, but they were clean enough.

The next time they show up they need three rooms, but you only have two available. Tom and Grant bunk up again, and a couple are with them who do not come into the office. The woman has beautiful auburn hair that she covers with a ball cap, and her very tall beau—whose hand she holds—shields himself in far more clothing than necessary this time of year.

They all sleep (you assume) during the day and only socialize at night when the other guests aren’t around.

Not that the party is loud; they simply seem more at ease when it’s harder to see. They stay three or four days, leaving rather suddenly early one night after paying for the time already.

Sporadically, this continues.

Once it’s only the couple. She is very reserved and he is very awkward, but again nice enough. They stay for nearly two weeks, enjoying hikes in the area, always holding hands. The woman relaxes significantly. It’s quite lovely to see.

Mister and Misses Durham, you know them as. They don’t always respond by name either.

Another visit makes five guests with the addition of a beautiful young woman. Her hair is cropped and bleach blond, and she is by far the most at ease.

It’s this visit that you realize they are just staying in their rooms during the day not sleeping, and you find the karaoke machine to take to Tom’s room.

He’s thrilled, thank goodness, because you don’t normally offer up activities to those who don’t ask about them, but Tom bangs on the doors of the other two (you think) couples so they can join him.

You’re about to leave when he asks you to do a duet with him.

Grant throws out that Tom enjoys Marvin Gaye. It’s the most you’ve heard him say, ever.

“I do,” Tom agrees, “but I don’t mess with the master.”

So you have the idea to sing Marvin Gaye—the song—with Tom as Charlie Puth and you as Meghan Trainor.

It’s quite a lot of fun, belting as best you can, finding Grant’s intense gaze on you for the lyrics: I’m like a stray without a home… I’m like a dog without a bone…

Just as quickly, however, you have to go back to the front desk. Duty calls and all.

You make sure they know the machine is all theirs for as long as they want. Their rooms are too far down the line of the building to hear if they do enjoy it for long, but you get no complaints about noise. You hope for the best.

Later that night, Grant comes by the office, carrying the machine with a smirk on his face and the most genuine appreciation on his lips. He has a lovely deep voice you never knew about.

He just talks to you.

It’s all superficial conversation about the area, the weather, what activities you like on your days off, but even that seems a struggle for him.

Tom was not kidding. His friend is extremely shy. He has trouble thinking up casual questions. He can’t look you in the eye until responding, and he doesn’t give more than a few words in answer to anything.

You laugh--you have to—when Grant asks if he can walk you to your door, which…is ludicrous because you live in the house a whopping fifty meters past the main motel. Your family has owned and run this place for three generations. You’ve walked that path your whole life.

“I like walking,” he shrugs, though from the sheer muscles on him, he does way more than just walk. “I was gonna do a lap or two anyway.”

“Well, I have to wait for Clark to show up, but—“ you look him up and down “—okay.”

Grant is so sweet but so stiff. He holds himself with purpose when actively thinking, but you catch him having these distant moments. He withers like a violet, a shell that’s too small for his big body. He seems lost and lonely.

You’re glad to do whatever keeps him company. Your goal for the night is to make Grant smile as much as humanly possible, but that’s difficult when he won’t let you know anything about him.

Twenty minutes later, Clark, a local stoner kid who hardly looks up from his phone, waltzes in, stepping around Grant like a wall that’s always been there and throwing a “hey, man” out with zero regard for a response. Classic Clark. That’s why he’s on night shifts.

So you grab your bag and let Grant hold the door open for you.

Maybe you’ve been watching the Durhams too much when they come around, but you feel a compulsion to hold his hand. You don’t, obviously, because you only just heard this guy speak for the first time today. It would also be incredibly awkward to hold Grant’s hand in the dead silence that follows on your way up the gravel path.

You’re so consumed by figuring out what to say next that you don’t notice till the beast is right there.

An elk walks right in front of you, taller than Grant. From this angle the animal blocks the entire view of your house it’s so big, and you jump back, slamming into your startled escort’s chest.

You both freeze as it moves slowly at a diagonal to the other side of woods, bringing it and its gigantic horns closer still.

It squawks like some sort of awful banshee and stamps huge hoofs. You throw your weight backward and spin to flee, clambering over Grant’s body.

Why you’re so scared, who knows; you should be used to the wildlife, but no creature has ever done this before.

The most shocking thing, however, is how strongly Grant tries to hold you immobile.

The harsh grip on your waist and the way he hisses through his teeth for you to stop should be your hint, but instead you cling to him harder, asking quietly if the animal is gone.

“Uh…” Grant tenses against you. “It’s…it’s just—“ he shudders when you wriggle “—yes, gone,” he bites out, pushing you away by the hips.

He takes a second to breathe, buries his hands in his pockets, and leans forward, gathering himself.

It was scary. That could have turned nasty very quickly. You were lucky Grant was there and calm…except he was sorta the reason you were distracted in the first place.

Finally composed, he sighs and motions forward. “Let’s get you home.”

Two months later, Grant’s initial five o’clock shadow has come in nicely.

You’ve learned the routine of their check-in. There’s only one room available, unfortunately, but if they stay more than two days, there should be another open.

Tom shrugs and offers a playful, “we’ll see. We go where the wind takes us.” He smooths his palm over a fresh fade at his nape and the sharp angles of his goatee.

“And you, I see, have stopped in for a cut with Terrence in town. He loves the three slices like that.” That's how the barber marks his work. Terrence's shop is very popular.

“It’s a good signature. Wish I could'a convinced this big lug to get a trim.” Tom elbows his friend who stares at his feet.

Grant runs his fingers through his golden locks and swallows. “Yeah, well, maybe next time.”

Without realizing what you’re doing, you stand on the rungs of your stool behind the counter and reach for his lusciously full beard.

“Don’t you dare get rid of this,” you chide, fingertips grazing the skin of his cheek beneath the course yet soft hairs.

You should apologize. You should let go and sit back down. You should professionally hand them their key and be done with it, but instead, you linger, watching his blue eyes darken with a primal devastation.

He’s prey caught in a cage.

You release Grant’s face with an awkward laugh and a shake of your head.

Tom makes his own, very knowing face, and winks.

“You should do that more. Touch him. He could use it.”

Grant clears his throat harshly and blushes, mumbling something about which room number you said they had and that he’ll bring the other bags from the car. He leaves. Tom takes the keys with another wink and a sassy tap on the hardwood.

“Thank ya, ma’am. We appreciate it.”

It’s about twenty minutes later when your pen rolls off the edge of the counter, you find a small duffle left where Grant stood.

“He was joking. It was a joke,” Grant blurts when he finds you standing there to give it back.

You just smile and say Tom isn’t wrong.

“So, if you ever just want a hug…” you mutter, taking a chance to scratch at his bearded chin again. “Not like you’re gonna hurt me.”

He looks back inside, as if seeking permission or checking to make sure his friend is still in the bathroom, singing in the shower.

Grant can’t seem to meet you halfway, but he does inch forward, struggling to word a simple ‘yes.’

The tentative embrace starts with only the top of his chest touching you, bent so his butt is out, no pressure on his hands at your shoulders, so you push a little more and a little more. You get close enough he needs to wrap his arms around you instead. He has to stand straight so his chin doesn’t poke your forehead. He whimpers slightly when your own arms encircle his tiny waist.

A few breaths later, he relaxes into a lovely full-body hug, his rough fingertips on your bare skin where your shirt bunched up. You’re both being human, no more, no less, tangled in simple comfort.

Grant tucks his face into your collarbone suddenly and squeezes, not so hard that it hurts but not gently either. The move tickles you with his beard, your hands pawing up his back as you giggle, and he whines like wounded prey.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you soothe. “I can be here, if you want, to hold. It’s okay.”

That has the opposite effect you intended, knocking him out of some soft reverie and launching him back a foot, a necessary but unwelcome distance.

Grant looks guilty, needy, and resigned as he thanks you for returning the bag and sees you out the door.

dividers by cafekitsune and firefly-graphics

A/N: This will be the shortest (probably) of all the parts, and yeah, we get into some smuttier moments pretty quickly... Stay tuned!

[Next Part: Sweet Baby]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @spectre-posts @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #nomad steve #nomad steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #touchstarved #touch-starved!steve #hideout series

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itsmealaiah · 9 days

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"making it work"

CW: fingering, masturbation, profanity, call sex, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, sex video

Request: can u PLS do one where tom is on tour and reader sends him video fingering herself, and they both masturbate on call together and call eachother some kinda kinks idk…

Rating: mature themes, mdni, 18+

WC: 0.5k

As the tour bus rolled through the darkened highways, Tom settled into his bunk, the steady thrum of the engine lulling him into a contented daze. He couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for home, for the familiarity of his own bed and the laughter of you.

But then, he remembered the promise you had made to each other. The video you had sent him, your fingers teasing yourself as you whispered dirty words into the camera. The anticipation built up in his chest as he reached for his phone, unlocking the private messaging app.

There it was, your number flashing on the screen. He hesitated for just a moment, taking a deep breath before he pressed the call button. The line connected and he heard your voice on the other end, soft and inviting. "Hello?"

"Hey, baby," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "I've been thinking about you all day."

A shiver ran down his spine as he listened to you moan softly on the other end. "Oh, Tom… I've been thinking about you too. I've been touching myself, just like you wanted."

He could picture it so clearly in his mind's eye: your long, slender fingers mimicking the movements he had seen in the video. The knowledge that you were pleasuring yourself right now, thinking of him, sent a wave of heat through his body. "Oh fuck, baby," he groaned, his hand sliding beneath his t-shirt to grasp at his erection. "Tell me what you want me to do."

Your voice was low and sultry as you whispered in his ear. "I want you to touch yourself, Tom. Just like I am. I want you to think about how it would feel if I were here with you, kissing you and touching you." As you spoke, he could hear the rustle of sheets and the catch in your breath, telling him that you were truly enjoying yourself.

His free hand moved up to his chest, slipping up his shirt as he leaned back against the pillow. His fingers found the hard length of his cock, stroking up and down, teasing the sensitive skin. "God, it's been so long since I've felt this close to you," he panted. "I can't wait to taste you, to feel you wrapped around my finger."

The image of you naked, legs spread wide, your fingers driving into your wetness was more than he could bear. "I'm close, baby," he gasped, his hips bucking up into his hand. "I'm going to cum thinking about you." And with that, he let go, arching his back as his release poured over his fingers, hot and sticky. His vision blurred with pleasure as he imagined the taste of you on his tongue, the feel of your body beneath his hands.

He heard you moan on the other end of the line, your own orgasm building, and it only served to heighten his arousal. "Oh God, Tom," you cried out. "I'm going to… I'm going to…" And then your voice trailed off into a throaty growl as you came, your pleasure echoing through the phone line and straight to his heart.

He wanted nothing more than to be with you, to feel your body pressed against his, to taste your skin and kiss you until you begged for more. But for now, he had to content himself with these stolen moments of intimacy, these fleeting connections across the miles.

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