Jo I Love You So Much For Giving Me Exactly What I Wanted Here

also when did everyone become so cool about john walker? 🤨 i watched tfatws as it was coming out, weekly, and i hated that man and everything he stood for. now all of a sudden he’s a “misunderstood” character? why do mcu fans give so much grace to white characters, am i missing something?

#And he's dead serious (and right)

Hi jo sorry if this isn’t what you normally write and you can ignore it if you want. I would just love a sort of comfort fic of reader losing their virginity to art but she’s uncomfortable and wants to stop and he’s sweet about it

No pressure I love everything you put out ♡

don't apologise pookie this is sweet :) <3

warnings: 18+ sex (p in v), insecure/uncomfortable reader, loss of virginity, very quickly (+ poorly) written apologies x

This is decidedly not how you expected losing your virginity to go.

Art was a gentleman. Waiting patiently for months, never pressuring you into anything despite the fact he'd spent countless nights leaving your dorm blue-balled and in dire need of a cold shower. Even when you suggested taking that next step, he made you insist several times that it was really what you wanted.

No, he wasn't the problem.

It took fifteen minutes with his head between your thighs for you to cum. That part was great. It was what came next that made things awkward: Art perched above you, one hand entwined with our own while the other guided him into you. The stretch was overwhelming, enough to render you breathless for the next few seconds as he eased in slowly. Each thick, solid inch has your toes curling and your lungs desperately gathering air.

An affirmative nod of your head to confirm that you were okay (you weren't) and he was rocking into you, groaning about how tight and good you felt. Everyone always said it gets better. But it's been two minutes of him thrusting into you, jaw slack with pleasure and eyes screwed shut while he babbles praises senselessly about how well you're taking it, and things are decidedly not better.

You can't take it anymore. The discomfort of having another person so deep inside you, the stretch, the burning pain...

"Art, stop."

He doesn't hear you at first. You're quiet, drowned out by the sound of skin slapping against skin and his ragged sounds of pleasure.

"Art." Your free hand finds his shoulder. Fingers curling into the sweat-slick skin, face strained in displeasure. "Stop, please."

Now you've got his attention. His eyes snap onto yours again, hips slowing to a halt. "What?" He blinks lamely. Despite his initial obliviousness, at least he's stopped moving.

"I just... I can't," you explain weakly, choking on a hitched breath.

It's not the most eloquent reply ever, but what are you supposed to say? This is awful. It's nothing like I expected. I'm having a terrible time. It hurts, it's uncomfortable, it's—

You could say all of that, actually. You just don't want to hurt his feelings.

"Okay," he says, brows furrowing. "Are you, um... are you okay? I'm sorry, was I going too fast?"

His hand moves to push your hair gently out of your face. Sweet boy. You can't find it in yourself to be upset.

"No, you're fine," you reply, trying for a smile. It falls terribly flat.

"Are you—" A pause, hand squeezing yours as he braces himself up on his other one. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you reply, embarrassed by the way his eyes are searching your face with such genuine concern. You wish you could just melt into the mattress and pretend this never happened. "Can you just... can you get off, please?"

"Oh!" He blinks, glancing down. "Right. Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry."

The process of him pulling out is far less agonising, and you breathe a sigh of relief, body relaxing beneath him. He's still watching you with that same worried look as he lays down next to you, fingers twitching by his sides uncertainly.

"Too much?" He asks tentatively. You nod sheepishly, eyes averted. "I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't—did I hurt you? Are you okay?"

It feels like the hundredth time he's posed the question, but he's panicking inwardly about your apparent state of discomfort as you shift restlessly, eyes fixated on some point over his shoulder. You feel embarrassed. Guilty. Like a failure.

What's the point in him dating you if you can't even handle sex?

You don't voice any of that out loud, but he can see it in your eyes; the way your bottom lip quivers slightly as the all of the emotions cross plainly across your face. Or how your eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, voice cracking.

"No, no, no. Why are you apologising?" He replies instantly. He lifts a hand, pausing before he makes contact. "Is this okay?" When you nod your head, his hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing tenderly over your skin.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. It's okay."

Your head shakes insistently. "No, I should be able to do it. I mean, what's the point if I can't?"

His knuckles linger against your cheek, and then he laughs. Just a soft huff of amusement, but enough to have you knitting your brows at him.

"What's the point?" He repeats softly, eyes crinkling down at you. "It's just sex, babe."

"Sex is a very integral part of a relationship!" You argue, wiping feebly at your eyes.

"Maybe," Art says, shrugging noncommittally as he watches your aborted attempt sympathetically. "Doesn't mean we have to have sex right now. There's always room to try again in the future, right?"

You hate that he makes sense. It's hard to wallow in your own self-pity when he's looking at you so tenderly, still caressing your cheek. "Right," you mumble reluctantly. "And if the future is never?"

"We'll tackle that hurdle when we get there," he says, dipping his head to kiss the tip of your nose. "Stop stressing. Let's just put a movie on and relax, 'kay?"

You pout at him for a second longer before relenting. Your head falls back into the pillow with a sigh as he settles back beside you, an arm draped across your middle to reach for the remote. A few more sniffles can be heard as you settle down.

"Thank you."

It's quiet, but he hears it. He sends you a soft smile. "You don't need to thank me."

"Well, I am," you reply, shifting to rest your head against his shoulder. All you get in reply is a light chuckle.

A few moments pass as he flicks through the channels before you speak up again. "Can you maybe put your boxers back on? I don't want to see your dick."

He snorts, tilting his head to press a kiss into the top of your hair. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

Everyone acting like Sam fans are just humorless bitter meanies is killing me tbh 😭

Ummm sorry, but I think we’ve been pretty chill for a good ten years now lol. I mean, they didn’t even let the man be a social worker from Harlem for goodness sakes!! Erased his comic history with Steve and significant chunks of their friendship, largely forgot about his family and friends, sidelined and forgot about Sam himself too. For years! Gave him a show instead of a movie, and hired a guy who clearly hates him to write it. Then years of zero cameos, not even a shoutout or two. Finally gave him a movie, that was really good by the way, but then when they do manage to finally acknowledge him in another project it’s just to insult him. And, whole time that all this is happening, they’re glazing the hell out of a whole slew of other characters who objectively deserve the hype less than Sam.

Actually, yeah, we’ve been gracious af.

art definitely peed a little when tashi told him she was pregnant

joaquin torres has me in a literal chokehold and i need you to say you agree

no bc he had me by the throat the first time i watched brave new world. my ao3 tabs went crazy that week 💔

but i rewatched this week n UGHHHHHH i need him so fucking bad

here's a lil jesslupe kiss for the road :o)

i can’t stop thinking about forced feminization with art. he’s so pretty i can’t take it. like…. god. imagine calling his cock a pussy while you fuck him. (not with a strap, no. we are not in that kind of scene.) it’s just you between his legs, (which is already dangling off the bed) and you are sinking him deep inside of you by rolling your hips slow like you’re the one fucking him.

and you are not riding either. you’re not bouncing. not that kind of topping. you’re not letting him have anything that makes him control anything. it’s just you. you’re thrusting him inside you. and you’re looking down at him like he belongs there… beneath you.

he’s already leaking, of course, he’s so close already. already twitching inside you, whimpering like he doesn’t know how to handle the way it feels. like it’s too much. like it’s not supposed to feel that good.

and you tell him while looking down at his fucked out face, “you’ve got the puffiest pussy, baby. don’t you?”

it’s not a yes or no. it’s not even a question.

and he’s already nodding, eyes wide and glassy, like he needs you to believe it, like he needs it to be true. and you make him say it. you tell him to say it.

and of course he does. god, of course. he gasps it out between moans like it’s breaking him, all breathless and shaky. “I- I’ve got- a-ah... a fluffy- a p-puffy pussy…”

you can barely take it. he’s so shy about it, but it’s like something he’s been waiting to say his whole fucking life.

you keep going, soft but mean. “what kind of girl are you, baby?”

and he looks up at you like he’s about to cry. so red, so shy and embarrassed already.

“i’m… i’m your good girl…”

and yeah. he is. he fucking is.

“Why does Sam care about suing the thunderbolts but doesn’t care about Kamala’s team?”

Because Sam isn’t doing it for petty reasons. He’s doing it to stop the government from having any control over the legacy HE helped build.

Kamala isn’t assembling a team of child traffickers, murderers, and self centered people unlike a certain other team. Kamala is assembling people that Sam would also choose in a heart beat.

Next.

jo!!! your laurie is on her period!!! id on't liek it. svae me. lesbians shouldn't get periods. save masc lesbians from periods 2025.

^^^how i look begging for your help

nooo pookie i am So sorry. fighting your uterus for you right now we'll get thru this together