#Feel lazy for using the same base (THAT I MADE) for all of them but ummm hashtag artblock
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compassmili · 3 months ago
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MY TOYSSSSSSSS
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blackbirdsblackberries · 5 months ago
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I HATE THE NEW HERO
PT 1 - What teacher assigns a group project for a poster?!
Pt 1 (You're here) - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10
Classes were always boring for you, don't get you wrong - you love the subjects, you just hate how it's being taught.
To sum it up, here is your lessons for today, Friday.
Literature, Methods Math, Biology, Ancient History, Engineering and finally Chemistry.
It's a lot and frankly you're regretting choosing half of those subjects. Even more so because of a certain billionaire playboy's ward. Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.
You're pretty sure he's a massive fanboy of Aranea, the new spider-themed hero of Gotham who you detest with your very being.
The costume is ugly, they're too optimistic - it's Gotham, who on Earth is happy in Gotham? Most of all however, they're a two-faced bitch. You should know, after all you are them.
It's not that you hate yourself and your nightlife, just that you need to look unconnected to them at all costs. There can't be any correlation between you and your persona. You use a voice modulator while on patrol and missions, you wear a wig while in your costume and any defining features are covered by either the costume or makeup.
So, whenever Aranea is brought up you take the chance to make fun of it. The comments aren't anything horrible, mean sure.
"Ew, they're more of a roach than a spider.."
"They're actually ugly enough to be the next Joker"
"I hope they humiliate themself and everyone sees how gross they really are."
But not horrible.
Despite this Timothy seems to have thought you were the devil himself in the form of a teenager. Glares were thrown at you, false reports were made to the principal's office, public shaming on Chitter and more.
You won't lie and say it gets to you sometimes but at the same time he's being a manchild. You can't expect everyone to like who you like.
You're snapped out of your thoughts by a paper being slammed onto the desk. Your head snaps up and you glare at the person.
Timothy may as well be the devil with the way he's staring at you now, a sneer paints his pale features. His nose held high enough that you swore he was about to snort on you.
You grit your teeth and look down at the paper he slammed on your desk. You're actually going to scream and cry right now.
Scratch that, you're actually going to jump out of the window and hope to perish.
You hate Chemistry. You hate this school. You hate Gotham. You hate Timothy Jackson Drake.
You pray he'll think you're incompetent and not bother with actually working together for this group project.
A group project on Titration! Who even does a group project outside of school for that?
You look around, hoping there will be others in the group but because your luck is so thin it might snap everyone else already were in groups of 3s. Meaning Timothy and you would just be a duo.
Instead of doing what you wished you instead sighed and grabbed your pencil, probing at Timothy's hand until it stopped holding the paper against the desk.
"A poster on bases and acids in titration? Why does this need to be a two-person job?!" You huff out. Timothy's features turn more hate filled, kinda petty to hate someone for different tastes Timothy...
"Because lazy people like you won't do the work otherwise!"
"I'm not lazy! Fine, fuck you! I'll do it myself!"
"No way! I need the marks - plus you'll do it wrong!"
you take a deep breath, trying desperately to not snap your pencil in half.
"... Fine. We'll do it at my place then once school lets out. No way am I going to your place where I'm sure you'll set your family on me." You respond calmly, still glaring up at him.
After a moment Timothy nods.
Your shoulders slump in relief.
"I'll meet you at the front gate then."
"Fine. But if you're late I'm doing the project on my own." With that Timothy walks away. You feel a migraine coming on - seriously, what is wrong with him? There wasn't even a proper time set!
Some people think that Damian kid is the rudest - those people clearly haven't been on the bad, petty side of Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.
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moviecritc · 7 months ago
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Hi I don't know if you write about Charles and Alexandra, but what about something based in obsessed by olivia rodrigo, in a more sapphic way, maybe reader and alex can make out or something. also if you can mix it with smau would be super cool 💕
obsessed ⋆ charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux
pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader (various fc) x alexandra saint mleux
warnings: some bad words for the three of them (it was for the sake of the plot, nothing to harsh)
a/n: i made her a singer to add more drama. also i loooved this idea, i've been wanting to write something like this so much, thanks for requesting it <33
Remember that requests are open 💕💕
masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd
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yourusername just posted!
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, charlesleclerc and 145,824 others
yourusername some visuals from the Paris music video 💜🩷💙
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user1 i felt so seen in the first verses of the song, i'm also a sucker for gossip
charlesleclerc 💜😍
user2 so dry
user3 what is someone so cool like yn dating someone so boring and simple like charles
user4 graduated in cuntology with a master in slayfication and cum laude in mother is mothering 101
sabrinacarpenter princess of glittery gel pen songs 💜💜💜💜
user5 IM SO IN LOVE
user5 that i might stop breathing
user6 yn using paris as a joke bc charles is monegasque is beyond cuteness
user7 GOALS.
user8 imagine having YN LN as a gf and NOT POSTING HER leclerc you better watch out
user9 it's giving taylor and joe
user10 THE HEARTSSS never beating bi allegations
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When Y/N saw the Instagram notification, curiosity got the better of her. Just curiosity. She and Charles had been dating for almost six months, and this was the girl he had been with before her, so she simply wanted to know who she was. She scrolled through her posts, seeing the life she had after breaking up with Charles; she worked at a museum in Monaco and at the same time was an influencer.
Looking at her photos, she realized she was very beautiful. Very, very beautiful. Her hair was healthy, long, and a gorgeous dark brown, her body was perfect, the clothes fit her great, and she had a very sweet voice. She wondered why Charles had ended things with Alexandra.
Then, as she scrolled through her highlighted stories, she accidentally liked one. Y/N immediately threw her phone down. "Shit," she said, grimacing. "Shit, shit, shit." She picked up the phone again and saw the red heart on a photo of Alexandra in a bikini with a beautiful sunset in the background. Y/N stared at the photo for a moment and then removed the like.
She ran her hands over her face, feeling like an idiot. Alexandra would still see the notification, then she would see that Y/N had removed the like, and she would probably think she was weird. Or worse, she could message Charles, asking what his girlfriend was doing stalking her profile.
Charles was at the Grand Prix of Canada at that moment, she was in Monaco. The time difference was huge, and she wasn't going to bother him with this nonsense. So she decided to message Alexandra directly.
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Y/N couldn't stop thinking about Alexandra for the rest of the day. She found herself a couple of times staring at her pictures, she knew that Alex lived in Monaco and that they could bump into each other anytime. That idea felt amazing. She seemed like a gorgeous person, and the little chit chat they had felt really comfortable, even when Alex was her boyfriend's ex.
Y/N didn't mention any of this to Charles, he probably just make a big deal of it and they would have a discussion. And she was too lazy to think about arguments.
So she wrote a song. For the nexts days she focused on the lyrics and when Y/N handed the papers to her producer, they loved it. As soon as they could they recorded the song.
When Charles came back from the race, he found Y/N staying after midnight in the studio so she could finish the song. And he didn't complaint, because he really thought the song was about him.
yousername just posted!
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liked by yournamehq, alexandrasaintmleux and 583,981 others
yourusername 'obsessed' is now yours, with the mv starring @alexademie 🍒🍸💎
the comments have been restricted
alexademie so proud of this project 🤧💙
sabrinacarpenter MISS? i was not expecting this at all and it was so so good 😩😩
gracieabrams QUEEN. in capitals and screaming.
chappelroan so cunty, so hot, so sapphic.
laufey ok now IM obsessed with YOU.
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She didn't even think it was a bad idea until she saw her. They had decided to meet at a private club in Monaco; Alex wore a black satin dress that fit her extremely well, with her hair loose as she had seen so often in photos and a sparkling gaze. Y/N felt stupid for only wearing a white top and jeans.
"You showed up," Alexandra said with a smirk.
"You thought I wouldn't come?" she asked, matching her expression. Alexandra lowered her head, saying nothing and tucking her hair behind her ear. Y/N went to the bar and ordered a round of shots, although she didn't need to get drunk to do what she was about to do.
She drank one and then watched as Alexandra imitated her.
"Where did you leave Charles?" Alexandra asked, pulling her to a sofa area. The club wasn't very crowded, but more people would start arriving soon.
Y/N clicked her tongue. "Charles is the last person I want to talk about right now, honestly."
"You're right," Alexandra agreed as she nodded. "Let's talk about the song, then."
Y/N looked at her with a silly smile, trying very hard not to feel embarrassed. Although she knew she had nothing to be embarrassed about, she could see from Alex's expression that she had liked the song.
"What did you think?" she asked, sipping her cocktail.
"I loved it. I never thought someone would write songs about me," she lowered her gaze a little and then Y/N noticed how she had the tip of her heel circling around her foot.
"Did Charles ever dedicate any of his piano songs to you?" Y/N asked, furrowing her brow a little.
"Charles never even dedicated time to me," Alexandra looked away a bit.
Y/N nodded, perfectly understanding what Alexandra was talking about. Charles was too focused on his career, and unless you asked him, he could completely ignore you for weeks or change plans you had been planning for months because he had to train. That was the kind of person Charles was. At first, it had been a dream, accompanying him to his races and spending time with him, but when you scheduled a tour to be able to attend most of his races and he didn't show up at almost any of your concerts… It affected you.
"Men," Y/N said simply, rolling her eyes.
"Exactly! They're unbelievable, in the worst sense of the word," Alex spoke, slightly laughing.
They fell silent for a few moments, not breaking eye contact. The music had been turned up, and they were bathed in purple and green lights, moving around the room. Alexandra almost glowed for Y/N's eyes; under that lighting, everything seemed unreal. She leaned toward her, but didn't make the final move, wanting Alex to take that step.
Alexandra smiled mischievously and pressed their lips together. It was a calm kiss, not too long but their lips touched enough to explore them calmly, and for Y/N to remember the slight scent of red licorice from Alex's cologne.
As they separated, Alexandra got as close as possible to Y/N, resting her head on her shoulder. "Are you drunk?" Y/N questioned, fearing for a moment that it was all an act of alcohol.
"No," she denied vehemently.
Y/N didn't think much more about it, discreetly grabbed her phone to text Charles that it was best for them to end their relationship. She and Alexandra kissed a couple more times that night.
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Five months later
alexandrasaintmleux just posted a story!
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[caption 1: opening night 🍒 @yourusername] [caption 2: best view 💖]
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lelengerine · 2 months ago
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pairing. cafe owner!chenle x regular customer!reader
synopsis. chenle might just have a thing for his cafe's regular customer, based on a req!
genre. cafe au, love at first sight mixed with a little puppy love, chenle’s like a goldie retriever here :(( i swear, mentions of food, reader uses she/her pronouns for this one, ft. jisung and jaemin, pls lmk if anything was missed!
wc. 1.0k words
notes. i love this one so much (i say that almost every time i have a new thing written) but it's chenle who are we kidding ofc i have favoritism… slight. likes and feedback are highly appreciated!
m.list
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chenle wasn’t the type to hover. 
he trusted his staff—jisung handled the customers, jaemin worked his magic in the kitchen. that left him to observe from the sidelines, content to manage from a comfortable distance. it wasn’t laziness, more like knowing where he fit in the daily rhythm of the café.
but the moment you walked in, everything shifted.
it was nothing special at first. the soft chime of the door, the way the afternoon light caught the edge of your face as you stepped inside, looking around with a quiet curiosity. chenle had been by the counter, flipping absentmindedly through the register logs. he wasn’t paying attention to much until he saw you. it was like the air in the room shifted, pulling his focus to you as if he’d been waiting for something but hadn’t realized it until that moment.
you took a few steps in, glancing at the menu board above the counter. jisung, ever efficient, moved to take your order, but chenle stepped forward without thinking, his voice coming out before he even realized it.
“i’ll take care of it,” he muttered, sliding in front of the lanky boy and ignoring the surprised look thrown in his direction.
jaemin, who was watching from the back with flour dusted on his apron, gave chenle a knowing look, but said nothing.
chenle paid neither of them any attention, turning his gaze to you whose eyes were eagerly scanning the menu above the counter. “what can i get for you?”
you smiled, polite but distant, ordering a cup of mocha latte—voice reaching him in soft but clear syllables. chenle couldn’t help but hold onto each word as you spoke, wanting the moment to stretch just a little longer.
when you took your seat by the window, chenle made your drink himself, pushing aside jisung’s attempts to do his job. it wasn’t even about making the best coffee; it was about making your coffee. a strange feeling stirred in his chest as he watched the milk swirl into the espresso, the heart-shaped foam settling on top with more care than he’d ever thought to put into a simple drink.
it became a routine after that. you came in regularly, and each time, chenle found himself moving before anyone else could. jisung and jaemin didn’t even try to get involved anymore, knowing how stubborn their boss could be. they’d just exchange quiet glances and sometimes a snort of laughter when chenle would rush to be the first to greet you.
he knew your order by heart—mocha latte, no whipped cream, always served in the same spot by the window. he’d bring it to you, trying not to hover too long, hoping each time that maybe this would be the day you’d stay a little longer, or say something more than the usual thank you.
but you never did.
you’d sip your coffee, eyes on your book, and the world outside would blur as you disappeared into your reading. he’d watch, just for a moment, trying to convince himself that the way you quietly smiled to yourself meant something, that maybe you noticed how much care he put into each cup, but weeks passed, and nothing changed. 
you’d finish your drink, leave quietly, and chenle would be left with the echo of your absence. he started to wonder if it had all been in his head—if maybe he’d read too much into your polite smiles and the way you kept coming back. the doubt crept in slowly, like the steady ticking of a clock, until it was all he could think about every time you left without saying more.
today felt the same. you walked in, and he already had your mocha ready before you reached the counter, your usual spot by the window waiting for you. you gave him that same smile, soft and distant, and he tried to hide the way his heart leapt when you looked just a little surprised that he had your drink ready before you asked.
“you remembered,” you said, tone light, almost teasing.
chenle shrugged, trying to seem casual even as his pulse quickened. “it’s not hard. you come in here a lot.”
you laughed—soft, barely more than a breath, but it was enough to make his chest tighten. a small thank you made its way past your lips, and then, just like every other time, you disappeared into your little corner with a book in hand, sipping your drink as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.
chenle watched you from behind the counter, torn between the quiet hope that had kept him going for weeks and the creeping disappointment that maybe, just maybe, this was all it would ever be. the unspoken silence between you stretched on, and by the time you finished your drink, the weight of his thoughts had settled into something heavier.
you left, like always, slipping out the door with only a glance back. chenle sighed, staring at the empty cup you’d left behind. another day, another missed chance. he walked over to clear the table, mind already drifting to the usual routine, until something caught his eye.
a small piece of paper, folded neatly beneath the cup.
he picked it up, his breath catching as he unfolded it, scanning the words quickly, then again, just to be sure he wasn’t imagining it.
i’d like it better if you sat down and ate with me instead of staring from behind the counter next time. my treat, pinky promise.
your phone number was scribbled beneath the note, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
chenle froze for a second, blinking at the piece of paper in disbelief, then suddenly grinned, pumping his fist in the air with a quiet yet triumphant “yes!”
from behind the counter, jisung and jaemin watched him, snickering quietly, exchanging knowing looks.
“has he finally gone insane?” jisung said in a deadpan.
jaemin just shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “just let the boy live a little. it’s not always that we catch him like this.”
“that boy is still your boss.”
“eh, he’s still younger than me.”
“your point being…?”
and despite being more than aware of jisung and jaemin’s bickering from behind the counter, chenle didn’t care. all he could think about was the next time you walked in, and how this time, he wouldn’t just be serving you.
this time, he’d be sitting with you.
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markrosewater · 4 months ago
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Hi mark. It’s me, the guy that was complaining about orphans of the wheat. I wanted to start by apologizing for using the word lazy. I wasn’t trying to say that the people who make this game don’t put a ton of thought and effort and care into it, but I totally get how my wording made it sound like I was trying to say that. I’m genuinely sorry I came off like I was belittling the immense work you all do.
I also want to clarify that I wasn’t trying to say “I don’t like this thing therefore it is bad”. Millions of people play magic, all with very different tastes, and I’m just one weirdo. Everybody is going to have aspects of the game they like and aspects they dislike, my opinion is not objectively correct.
What I was originally trying to get at was that it feels as though a lot of designs that are “based on” something feel like they are getting more overt. Bonny Pall is the example my brain always goes back to because the name is almost the exact same thing as what it’s flavored after, Paul Bunyan. Orphans of the wheat is just a more recent example of this and what sparked me sending my initial message.
A few years ago, I saw a video on YouTube of a speech you made, I think it was your 30 years 30 lessons one. In it you talk about how akroan horse was originally Akroan Lion, and players didn’t get it, but when you changed it to akroan horse, suddenly people loved it and it felt so flavorful. I get that it’s important to make sure that people get the reference when you’re making one. And I get that it’s a delicate balance. Too subtle, and people don’t get it; but too overt, and bozos like me send giant messages complaining.
My qualm with Children of the wheat is that it is an example of a pattern I feel like I’m seeing where you are erring on the side of “gotta make sure they get it”, to the point that sometimes it feels like the reference is being beaten over our head. But I do recognize how that’s just my perspective and other people have different opinions on where the line is for “too obvious”. For example, I think Altanak and say its name are awesome. I like how the art is someone looking in a mirror and if you say its name three times then you summon the big bad monster. But I totally get how someone else might see that and say “well all they did was make Bloody Mary a bug”. And I also totally get how there might be another person who didn’t even get the reference and would’ve needed a card called “mutilated Miranda” to realize it.
This whole *thing* is just my way of saying that designs that are references to something feel like they are more and more often mutilated Miranda or Bonny Pall or orphans of the wheat, and that fewer and fewer of them are getting even one step removed from what they are referencing.
Thanks for taking the time to write back. It means a lot to me. How close we get to references is something we’re constantly reevaluating. We’ve definitely got the note that this year indexes too high on the obvious references.
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ckret2 · 3 months ago
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Ok but why DO the teens of Gravity Falls start worshipping Bill after everything he did to them? Isn't there a better counterculture figure they can use that didn't traumatize them for life?
You'd think. Pre-TBOB I sure wouldn't have made them worship him—but if canon says they worship him to be edgy, who am I to argue.
So since it IS canon, I justify it two ways:
One: who says they were traumatized? I'm not saying "Weirdmageddon wasn't traumatic"; I'm saying "maybe they didn't feel traumatized by it." Not everyone comes away from should-be-traumatic situations with trauma, ESPECIALLY if they have a large support group that understands what they went through... like, say, literally everyone else in town.
And a WHOLE LOT of Gravity Falls—maybe even most of the town—had VERY little exposure to Bill or Weirdmageddon. Based on Wendy's account, she and her friends didn't know anything was wrong until the eye-bats swooped in to petrify them. Anyone captured "probably" wasn't conscious (based on how Lazy Susan seems disoriented and unaware of her surroundings, I assume they were mostly unconscious, partially dreaming). All the teens (along with the other townspeople) were freed from the throne while Bill and his minions were outside, escaped (except for Wendy & Robbie) before Bill got back, and then everything went back to normal and nothing was broken and nobody was hurt.
For Wendy, it was the most stressful, dangerous, terrifying week of her life.
For all of Wendy's friends (and probably most other teens in town), it was just a pretty bizarre 15 minutes.
Since the eye-bats were picking off stray townspeople days into Weirdmageddon, I'm sure not all of the teenagers in town were captured so quickly and painlessly... but like, the teens that got the highest doses of trauma from the incident probably aren't the specific teens worshiping Bill to be edgy.
Two: it's a way of reclaiming power over the situation. Do you know one way to stop fearing the monster you imagine under your bed? By imagining really hard that the monster you can feel so, so close in the dark is actually friendly and there to protect you.
The triangle guy's dead and not coming back right? Then there's no consequences if we clown around in his name. You want to be a big fancy god? Okay, now you're the God of Making My Teacher Give Me An A+ On The Final. You're the God of Please Don't Let Me Get Fired From My Part Time Job For Showing Up Late. You're the God of Putting Me In The Same Classes As My Friends This School Year. I'll sacrifice a chicken nugget to you and you'll do me a favor.
If you're a chaos god then I'm calling on you when we spray graffiti, secretly throw a house party, sneak into the movie theater, sell weed in the restroom. If you're a chaos god then keep away the cops and parents when we're breaking the rules. (It's lucky coincidence that Bill would probably love to be the god of illegal parties and drug dealing.)
If you wanna be a god, then you're hired, buddy—and on this planet, that means if we bow to your image and chant your name and sacrificially burn a one dollar Bill over a candle for you, then you have to do what we ask, and you can't scare us anymore. And if worshiping you DOES scare the authority figures we're yearning to buck against, that's just a bonus.
Pantheons all over the world worship gods of volcanoes, sea storms, war, and death. When humans see a force too terrible to defeat or escape, we give it a face, a name, and a temple, and start feeding it with offerings and prayers in hopes we can domesticate it the same way we domesticated wolves with meat and back scratches.
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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 8 months ago
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 31] || [Chapter 33]
Pairing: Gaz x gn!Reader || Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ cw: not angst but a bit 'angsty', fluff fluff fluff. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: This one made me all emosh to write ngl.
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Chapter 32: No Harm Done.
You're sitting by the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony on Sunday morning, looking out and holding a warm drink in your hands.
It's raining outside. It's always raining in England, so it shouldn't really surprise you... but it still feels like a lazy, down-sort of day regardless.
You're home alone. Johnny went to base for P.T. and a meeting of sorts, while Kyle went out to the gym himself, giving you some time for yourself.
Your phone sits in front of you, fingers tapping away, back-and-forth, between chats with friends and with the lads, your lads.
Ghost said they'd text you to let you know when they were back, a promise they'd made after they sort of just turned up at your door all injured and hurt without warning so many weeks ago.
It feels like it's been an eternity since you had them all here.
Your eyes find your chat with Simon, flittering over the last couple of texts you sent each other. Right before the boys left on their newest mission.
Regardless of what Kyle and Johnny say about Simon, he's actually the best texter out of all of them... John being the worst.
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simon: Have about 5 minutes before we have to go. you: will u be safe? simon: Always am sweetheart. simon: Don't you worry about me. you: i meant ALL of you. you: and of course i worry about u! simon: If it was about all of us, you wouldn't be messaging me separately. simon: And I appreciate it but you shouldn't. you: i hate how smart u are. you: u face death literally every day in your job simon: And I always come back. you: okay but im allowed to worry no? you: youd worry about the others too? simon: I guess so. simon: But I'll be fine. you: u dont know that. simon: I know enough. simon: Been doing this for over a decade. you: that's not reassuring the way you think it is. simon: You're very worried. Is this because of what I said?
That text makes you set down your phone when you read it again, your face warm with embarrassment at the reminder, just like it had been during that text exchange as it was happening.
He had told you he loves you. Two of them had by now.
The thought of that still makes you shiver, the words so full of emotion and vulnerability when Simon said them, never any pressure on you, just a gesture on his end.
you: maybe? simon: That's really cute of you. simon: Don't let it make you worry or overthink. simon: I'll make sure I come back to you. you: si... simon: GTG ✋ simon: Will text you when I touch down.
Kyle's, however, were a lot less vulnerable. They were sweet, sudden, driven by happiness and amusement...
Both of them came out of left field and caught you off-guard.
Both of them felt just as real, however.
You took a sip of your warm drink and glanced out of the window again, watching the droplets slide down the glass panes.
You can't help but think about how things have been going for you.
Is this becoming too much? Is it going too far? Did you finally lose the plot?
When did a silly little Tinder account you made with your friends while fighting heartbreak become a 4-way relationship and 2 out 4 men telling you they're in love with you?
You're lost in thought when the door opens behind you, Kyle making his way in.
"Hey, lovie." He greeted, causing you to jump a bit, spilling some of your drink over the glass top of the table.
"Ah, fuck." You complained as you reached for the napkin holder and started mopping up the liquid. "Hi, Ky." You added as you cleaned the mess you made.
"Sorry, did I catch you off guard?" He asked as he approached the table and began to help you.
"Yeah..." You murmured and looked up at him, finally, finding him in a grey sleeveless hoodie and black workout shorts.
You smiled softly at him as you gathered the wet napkins and moved to the kitchen to dispose of them.
Kyle seemed to catch the look in your eyes as you glanced up at him. "What's wrong? You seem strange..." He asked as you followed you into the kitchen.
"Just thinking, it's nothing." You told him as you turned after throwing out the rubbish, only to find him standing right behind you, looking at you with scrunched brows.
"Is this about yesterday?" He asked you softly. "Was it too early?" He added in earnest.
The memories of the day before come back to you sharply. The way, after he told you he loved you, you sputtered for a bit, your face burning up, your eyes wide...
And how you had come back home together, your nose still pink, his cheek still red, the both of you looking embarrassed and sheepish, avoiding eye contact and biting your lip.
How Johnny had teased the two of you, thinking you had gotten down and dirty in the car and that's why you had come home looking so embarrassed...
You look up at him with a sigh and shake your head. "No, it's just..." You trailed off.
"Was it because Soap teased us after we came back?" He reached forward and gently ran a hand over your cheek.
"No!" You added and sighed, leaning into his palm, and gently holding his forearm in your hand.
"I'm just worried... I've never... been in something like this before." You explained, as you looked into his eyes. "More than one partner and-"
Kyle nodded at you, watching you with understanding eyes and a soft gaze, like he wanted you to keep talking, communicating.
"I don't know how to act about this... I don't know..." You trailed off and looked away for a moment. "It's... a strange feeling."
"To love more than one person at once?" He asked you as his brows raised in inquiry.
You nodded in response and looked up at him. "Yeah... And to... have them love me back."
"So I wasn't the first to tell you, huh?" Kyle asked, having caught the way you mentioned 'more than one person' when it came to 'loving you back'.
Your face burned up hot in embarrassment and you shook your head at him.
"Simon was." You replied, which made Kyle's eyes widen and then a smile take over his lips as he shook his head.
"Wasn't expecting that..." Kyle admitted as he caressed your cheek again.
"Did you say it back for him? Like you did for me?" He asked and you nodded your head in reply.
"Well..." Kyle trailed off, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, as if pondering what to say, and how to say it. "It's not exactly a bad feeling, is it?"
You shook your head. It wasn't a bad feeling. In fact, you quite liked having said the words, having had the words said to you.
"Then, I'd say there's not a big cause for worry. We all knew this would happen, right?" He added. You, once again, nodded at him.
Gently, he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks. "Then, let's just... let it be." He chuckled.
"You and I love each other. You and Simon love each other. I love Simon too..." He admitted with a shrug. "No harm done, right?"
Smiling a bit more, you ended up nodding and gently pushed up, kissing him slowly and deeply, both of your eyes closing, his hands caressing your face, your hands caressing his forearms...
You're so into the kiss, you don't hear the front door close, nor Johnny approach, until he shows up at the kitchen door. "Greedy bastard, leave some space for the Tav, will ye?"
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling ,
@tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva ,
@emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes ,
@irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary ,
@leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx , @severenswife , @enarien ,
@l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago ,
@sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki ,
@comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear ,
@mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat ,
@stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving ,
@blckbrrybasket , @agoodmoviekiss
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mapis-putellas · 11 days ago
Text
𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔/𝑳.𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔𝒐𝒏
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Requested. Based of ‘Happiness’ by Taylor swift.
The apartment was quiet, the kind of stillness that presses heavy against your chest. It was the sort of quiet you could only find after an argument so final that neither of you had the strength to fill the silence anymore. The coffee table between you and Leah was cluttered with a half-drunk glass of wine, her phone, and the ring you'd taken off just moments earlier. It sat there like it was mocking you, gleaming under the dim light as though it didn't represent the end of four years together.
Leah sat on the couch, her head in her hands. Her hair fell around her face like a curtain, hiding her expression. But you didn't need to see her eyes to know what she was feeling. Her shoulders were hunched, her breathing shallow. She wasn't crying, though. Neither of you were. Maybe you'd passed the point where tears felt useful.
It had started as a small argument, one of those little things that always seemed to spiral into something bigger. You couldn't even remember the exact words that had tipped you over the edge, but it had escalated into the same recurring fights—the kind about schedules that didn't align, the feeling of being left behind, and the crushing realization that neither of you knew how to fix what was broken anymore.
"I don't know how we got here," Leah said finally, her voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it. She looked up at you then, her eyes brimming with a kind of sadness that you hadn't seen before. "But I think... maybe it's time we call it quits."
You nodded, your throat too tight to respond. What was there to say, anyway? She wasn't wrong. You both knew it. The weight of her words settled deep in your chest like a stone.
There was no big betrayal, no villain to blame. Leah wasn't a bad person. Neither were you. Maybe that was what made it hurt the most. It would have been easier to hate her, to turn her into some twisted version of herself in your mind so you could let her go. But when you looked at her now, with her tear-stained cheeks and trembling hands, all you could think about was how much you still loved her.
She stood up, rounding the coffee table to come stand in front of you. Her hands, balled up at her sides, clench slightly before she holds them out. You sniffle softly as you take them, allowing her to haul you to your feet. You stared at each other for a quiet moment before she reached up to cup your cheeks. Her touch was soft, reverent, and you instinctively find yourself leaning into it. She smiled sadly as her thumbs linger just beneath your eyes, wiping away the tears, and then she leans in, looping her arms around your waist.
Her hold was tight. Desperate, even, and you could feel the way her hands clutched the back of your jumper. The once fading tightness in the back of your throat returns with a vengeance, and you're forced to swallow heavily as you secured your arms around her shoulders, your chin hooked over her shoulder. She sniffled, adjusting her head so her nose grazes the underside of your jaw. You cup the back of her head, wishing desperately that this wasn't the last time you had the opportunity to do so.
"I love you." A whisper. Barely audible against your ear.
"I love you too." The truth.
"I'm sorry." Please forgive me.
"Me too." I already have.
*
The first few weeks after the breakup were the hardest. You moved out of the apartment you'd shared, packing up boxes of your life together while Leah was away at training. It felt easier that way, cleaner. But as you stood in the doorway for the last time, the emptiness of the space hit you like a tidal wave.
There, in the kitchen, was where she'd taught you to cook her mum's roast dinner recipe. The bedroom was where you'd spent lazy Sunday mornings tangled in her arms, and where you'd laughed until your sides hurt over something ridiculous she'd said. The memories were everywhere, and no matter how much you tried to shut them out, they clung to you like a second skin.
At night, in the apartment you’d rented that felt painfully empty, you’d spend hours on the phone with your best friend, trying to convince her, and yourself, for that matter, that this was for the best. "I wasn't happy," you'd said one night, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. But even as you said it, you knew it wasn't entirely true. There had been happiness. So much of it. It just hadn't been enough.
Months passed, and you threw yourself into anything that could distract you. Work, friends, new hobbies. But no matter how busy you kept yourself, Leah was always there in the corners of your mind. You saw her face on social media, heard her name in interviews, and felt her absence in the quiet moments when there was nothing to distract you.
You tried dating again, but it was impossible not to compare everyone to her. They weren't as funny, as driven, as alluring as Leah. They didn't have her competitive streak or the way she could make you feel like the most important person in the world with just a look. Every time someone asked about your past relationships, you found yourself stumbling over your words, unsure of how to explain the profound, aching love you'd had for her.
One night, you sat on your couch with a glass of wine, scrolling through old photos on your phone. There she was, smiling up at you in a selfie from your first anniversary. Her hair was messy from the wind, and her cheeks were pink from the cold, but she'd never looked more beautiful. You stared at the photo for what felt like hours, the memories flooding back.
There had been happiness. Real, unfiltered happiness. And it felt like a betrayal to pretend otherwise.
It was only a few months later when you ran into Leah at a mutual friend's party. You weren't expecting to see her, but there she was, standing across the room with that same easy confidence that had drawn you to her in the first place. She looked different—older, maybe—but her smile was the same.
You weren't sure what to expect when she saw you, but when your eyes met, she crossed the room without hesitation. "Hi," she said, her voice softer than you remembered.
"Hi," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then she gestured toward the balcony. "Do you want to step outside? It's a bit loud in here."
You nodded, following her out into the cool night air. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and for a moment, you both just stood there, taking it all in.
"You look good," Leah said after a while, her tone genuine.
"Thanks. So do you."
She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "How have you been?”
You hesitated, unsure how honest you wanted to be. "I've been... okay. Busy, mostly."
She nodded, her gaze dropping to the ground. "Same.”
There was a long pause, the kind that felt heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Leah turned to look at you, her eyes searching yours."You know," she said after a long silence, "I think about us sometimes."
Your breath caught in your throat. "Yeah?”
She nodded. "I don't regret it," she said finally, eyes flickering to the sky. "Any of it. Even the hard parts. You made me happy, you know? And I hope... I hope I made you happy too."
You swallowed the lump in your throat, your chest tight with a mixture of emotions, only some of which you could decipher. "You did, Leah. You really did."
She looked at you then, her eyes soft and filled with something you couldn't quite name. "I'm glad," she said simply.
You often found yourself looking back on your relationship with Leah with a bittersweet kind of clarity. Time had softened the edges of your pain, turning the once raw wounds into faded scars that no longer ached. You'd both moved on, finding happiness in different ways, with different people.
But every now and then, you'd think about her—the way she'd laugh, the way she'd hold you when the world felt like too much, the way she'd look at you like you were her entire universe.
There had been happiness with Leah, real and undeniable. And though it had ended, you knew there would also be happiness again, just a different kind. Because life goes on, and sometimes, letting go is the kindest thing you can do for someone you'll always care about.
**
Tags:
@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan
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theonottsbxtch · 3 months ago
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Ok so… 🌧️☁️🔥 - Lewis Hamilton.
Could u base it off the trend, dark curls and water colour eyes.
Thanks Queen
WATER COLOUR EYES | LH44
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an: this is totally not based off of nico rosberg, no why would it be? also this was written in an hour and is NOT proof read.
summary: lewis' and his teammate have been treading a thin line between love and hate, so when one of them gets into an accident. surely it changes everything.
wc: 4.3k
warnings: car crash
The air in the garage was thick with the familiar scent of oil and rubber, the rhythmic thrum of engines in the distance like a heartbeat. You were stood at the far end, methodically reviewing your race notes, eyes tracing over each figure with sharp precision. Focused. Composed. Untouchable.
But you could feel him there—he was always there, lingering just on the edge of your awareness, never saying anything but always watching. The weight of it made your jaw clench, your muscles tighten in a way that annoyed you more than you’d cared to admit.
Lewis was leaning against the wall across from you, arms folded, his posture lazy and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. You could hear him breathing. You didn’t have to look up to know he was wearing that same infuriatingly relaxed expression, the one that somehow made you feel like he was waiting for you to slip up.
Minutes passed, neither of you speaking, the silence between you thick with something unspoken, but heavy. The team buzzed around you two, but your world was much quieter—tense, a slow-burning friction that had been there since the day you had both signed on.
Finally, you chose to break the silence, not out of need to acknowledge him, but to break the weight pressing down on your chest. "Do you ever plan on doing something useful?"
Lewis didn’t answer right away. Instead, you heard the soft shift of his weight as he stood straighter, footsteps crossing the short distance between you, slow and measured. You didn’t look up. Not yet.
"Are you always this charming before a race?" His voice was calm, casual, the subtle bite behind his words only evident to someone who knew how to listen for it.
You exhaled slowly, setting your notes down on the table in front of you. Only then did you meet his gaze, your cerulean eyes locking onto his, steady and unwavering. His eyes were dark, tension brewing within them, and the way they met yours now—unapologetically, searching for something—only made your guard go up further.
"I’m focused. Maybe you should try it sometime," you replied, your tone even, though every word was a small act of defiance.
A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t a friendly one. It was the kind of smile that said he was amused by you, that he liked getting under your skin.
"I am focused," he said quietly, his voice dropping an octave. "Just not on what you think."
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
Lewis didn’t like that they were racing today, there was far too much rain. Every practice session since they had gotten to Zandvoort felt wrong, every time he got into the cockpit of the car, he wanted to get back out.
The race was chaos—engines roaring, tires screaming as they hurtled through corner after corner at breakneck speed through the rain. Every move had to be precise, every decision calculated, and he was good at it. No distractions, no second-guessing.Even though he didn’t want to race today, Lewis lived for this.
But today, besides the race, something else was off. He hadn’t been able to get you out of his head. Even as he fought for position, his mind wandered—always back to you. To the way your eyes flashed when she spoke to him, the way you never backed down, never let him in. You were supposed to be teammates. Rivals. So why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about you?
He shook it off, pushing harder, focusing on the track ahead. But then he saw it.
Your car, just ahead in the pack, spun out. It happened so fast—a sudden twitch, then a violent swerve. His breath caught in his throat as your car skidded sideways, slamming into the barrier with a sickening crunch of metal.
Time slowed. Everything else—the race, the other drivers, the screaming radio in his ear—faded away. All he could see was your car, mangled and still, smoke rising from the wreckage.
"Bono, is she okay?" he breathed, panic clawing at his chest.
He was supposed to keep driving, follow protocol, and wait for the safety car. But he couldn’t. Lewis’ hands moved on their own, wrenching the wheel to the side, veering off the racing line. The pit radio crackled, Bono’s voice screaming at him to stay focused, to stay in the race, but he didn’t care. He slammed the brakes, pulled the car to a halt on the side of the track, ripping off his steering wheel in one swift motion.
Before anyone could stop him, he was out. Feet pounding against the asphalt, he sprinted toward your car, every second stretching painfully, his heart pounding in his ears. His mind was racing, filled with worst-case scenarios he couldn’t shut out. You had to be okay. You had to be.
As he reached the wreckage, marshals were already swarming the scene, but he shoved past them, his pulse roaring in his veins. The front of your car was a crumpled mess, the cockpit barely visible under the bent metal and debris. He could see your helmet, your still form inside, and the sight made something twist violently in his chest.
"What the fuck happened?!" His voice was raw, frantic, his hands reaching for the cockpit, trying to pry it open. "Someone help me for fucks sake!"
One of the marshals grabbed him, pulling him back, but he fought against it, his whole body trembling with the need to see you, to know you were okay.
"She’s unconscious—" one of the medics started, but he couldn’t hear the rest. His world had narrowed down to you and the sound of his own ragged breathing. He’d never felt fear like this before, not on the track, not anywhere. It gnawed at him, made his hands shake as he stood there, helpless.
His mind screamed at him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to you.
When the medical team finally got you out, he saw your chest rise and fall—shallow, but steady. Relief hit him like a wave, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to hear your voice, needed to see you open those damn eyes and tell him off like you always did. He needed you to be okay.
"She’s breathing," one of the medics reassured him as they loaded you onto a stretcher, and he nodded, but it felt like a hollow victory. Lewis wasn’t supposed to care this much. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
But as they carried you away, all he could think was that he’d break every rule, throw away the whole damn race, just to hear your voice again.
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
The quiet hum of the air conditioning did little to settle the nerves that still buzzed under your skin. You sat on the edge of the small cot in your driver’s room, staring blankly at the wall. Your body ached—nothing broken, they’d told you, but the crash had rattled you more than you had wanted to admit. Your helmet sat discarded on the floor, and the sound of the accident still echoed in your head, the screech of tires, the crunch of metal.
There was a knock at the door, sharp and insistent. You knew who it was before you even heard his voice.
"You in there?"
You closed your eyes for a brief second, already bracing yourself for the confrontation you weren't ready to have. He hadn’t left you alone since the crash—hovering around the medical tent, pacing outside your room. You’d heard him through the walls, arguing with the team, demanding updates. He was relentless. But you didn’t want his concern. You didn’t need it.
The door creaked open, and Lewis stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. Typical. He always pushed his way into your space, never asking, never giving you a chance to breathe.
"You shouldn’t be here," you said, your voice low, your eyes still fixed on the floor. You didn’t have the strength to look at him, not yet. Not when your emotions were too close to the surface.
"I was worried," he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it, and that only made you angrier. "I needed to see for myself that you were okay."
You laughed, a bitter sound, shaking your head. Finally, you forced yourself to look up at him. His usually confident posture was gone; he looked tense, his shoulders tight, his dark eyes clouded with something you didn’t want to name. Guilt? Regret? You didn’t care.
"You were worried," you repeated, your tone mocking, though the anger bubbling inside you was anything but playful. "Since when do you care about me, Hamilton? You’ve made my life hell from the second I signed with this team."
Lewis flinched at her words, but didn’t move, didn’t back down. "I—" He stopped, searching for something to say, something that wouldn’t make it worse. But you didn’t want to hear it.
"You don’t get to be scared for me." You stood up, your body protesting with every movement, but you ignored the pain. Your emotions were a live wire, snapping and sparking in the small room. "Not after everything you’ve done. The comments, the looks, the way you treat me like I’m just some obstacle in your way."
His jaw tightened, his eyes darkening, but you weren't finished. "You’ve been trying to tear me down since the day I got here. You’ve questioned my skills, doubted my place on this team, made me feel like I don’t belong every single chance you get." You took a step closer, your voice rising, cracking with the intensity of everything you’d kept bottled up. "So don’t stand there now and pretend you care. Don’t act like I’m something worth worrying about."
He didn’t move. He just stared at you, his face a mask of tension, like he was holding something back—something he wasn’t sure how to say. His eyes flickered, just for a second, and you saw it: the same fear you’d felt when your car slammed into that barrier. It confused you. It infuriated you.
"You think I wanted this?" His voice, rougher now, cut through the thick silence. "You think I planned to be this way with you? I don’t—" He ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. "I don’t know how to do this. How to deal with you. Because you—"
"Because what?" you snapped, cutting him off. "Because I’m a threat? Because you can’t handle the fact that I’m as good as you? Better, even?"
"Because you scare the hell out of me!" he shouted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. The room fell silent, his confession hanging in the air between you, raw and jagged.
Your heart pounded in your chest, the admission hitting you harder than you wanted to admit. But you didn’t let it show, couldn’t let him see how his words affected you.
"You scare me," he repeated, his voice quieter now, like he was admitting something to himself as much as to you. "The way you drive, the way you push yourself—you’re fearless, and it’s terrifying. And today—" His voice cracked, and he looked away for a second, composing himself. "Today, when I saw you crash, I thought—I thought I’d lost you."
Your breath caught in your throat, but you swallowed the emotion rising there, forcing yourself to stay strong. To stay angry.
"You don’t get to care about me," you said again, quieter this time, but with the same fire. "Not when you’ve spent months trying to break me."
Lewis opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. For a moment, you just stood there, the distance between you feeling both impossible to cross and too close. The tension, the unspoken things that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long, it all hovered between you, crackling like electricity.
Finally, he took a step back, his gaze falling to the floor. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice rough, but sincere.
You didn’t know what to say. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to push him further away, to tell him that his apology wasn’t enough. But another part of you —a part you weren’t ready to confront—was scared by how much you’d wanted to hear him say it.
So instead, you stayed silent, watching him leave, your heart still racing, your mind reeling from everything that had just been said—and everything that hadn’t.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the stillness of the room. Your body felt heavier now, the adrenaline from the confrontation seeping away, leaving only the dull ache of exhaustion and the weight of his words lingering in your mind.
You scare me.
You ran a hand through your hair, still trying to make sense of it all. He was the one who had made your life hell, the one who pushed every button, who treated you like you didn’t belong. And now, he was saying he was scared? That he cared?
You paced the room, the silence gnawing at you, your mind spinning in circles. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. You were rivals—always had been. He was the enemy on your own team, the one who made you want to scream every time he walked into the room. But today, when he stood there, looking at you like he was terrified of losing you, it had felt… different.
There was a part of you that had wanted to stay angry, to keep that fire burning between you. It was easier that way. Safer. But another part—the one you hadn’t let yourself acknowledge until now—was starting to unravel, slowly, painfully, as if everything you thought you knew about him was coming undone.
You sighed, sinking back onto the cot. Your body ached, but it wasn’t just the crash. It was everything else—the confusion, the pull you felt toward him, the tension that never seemed to leave you two, the way he looked at you like you were both his greatest threat and something he couldn’t tear his eyes away from.
You don’t get to care about me.
You had meant it when you said it. But now, alone with your thoughts, you wondered if you had been pushing him away because you didn’t want to admit the truth to yourself. That maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want him to stay away. Not anymore.
Before you could second-guess it, you stood up, heart pounding in your chest. You weren't sure what you were going to say, weren’t even sure why you were doing this, but your feet carried you out of your room and down the hall. His room was just a few doors down, the quiet hum of the team in the background doing nothing to settle the storm raging inside you.
Your knuckles hovered above the door, hesitating for just a moment before you knocked, your heart in her throat.
It opened almost immediately. He stood there, still in his race suit, his room a mess and his  eyes shadowed with the same exhaustion you felt. He looked surprised to see you, but there was something else there too—something raw, vulnerable, that made your chest tighten.
Neither of you spoke at first. The silence stretched, thick with the weight of everything that had been left unsaid. Finally, you broke the tension, your voice quieter than you intended.
"I shouldn’t have said what I did."
Lewis didn’t respond right away, just watched you with those sharp eyes that always made you feel like he was seeing straight through your defences.
"I didn’t mean it," you continued, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. "I mean… you didn’t deserve that. You cared, and I shouldn’t have thrown it back in your face."
He looked down, exhaling softly. "I’ve given you plenty of reasons to hate me," he said quietly. "I get why you reacted the way you did."
For a moment, neither of you moved. You were about to say something else, but then he looked up again, and the intensity in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.
"It’s foreign to me," he said, his voice low, his words deliberate. "Liking someone like you. Someone I’m not supposed to like."
Your breath caught in your throat, the air between you suddenly feeling too thick, too charged. The heat from the room, from him, seemed to close in around you, making it hard to think straight.
"You drive me insane," he continued, stepping closer, his voice rougher now. "You challenge me in ways no one else does. And I hate it. But I also…" He stopped, his eyes locking onto yours, his next words barely more than a whisper. "I can’t stop thinking about you."
You swallowed, your heart hammering against your ribs. The tension that had always been between you shifted, growing heavier, hotter, more intense. You could feel the pull, the unspoken thing that had been simmering beneath the surface for months.
Your throat was dry, your body betraying you. "You’re not supposed to care about me," you whispered, but there was no anger left in your voice. Only confusion, and something you weren't ready to admit yet.
He took another step closer, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, close enough to hear the slight hitch in his breath.
"I know," he said, his voice husky, eyes flicking between yours and your lips. "But I do."
Your pulse thundered in your ears as his words lingered in the air between you, charged and crackling like static. Every second felt stretched, like time was holding its breath, waiting for what would happen next. The tension between you had always been palpable, always simmering just beneath the surface, but now, it was unbearable—thick, electric, like the split second before a lightning strike.
You knew you should say something, break the moment before it went too far. You should push him away, remind him of all the reasons this couldn’t happen, why they couldn’t cross this line. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Instead, you found yourself frozen in place, the walls you’d built up around him crumbling. His eyes were locked on yours, dark and intense, and you felt something inside you shift, like a wire snapping loose.
Your breath hitched as you leaned in, just the smallest movement, enough to close some of the distance between you. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the space between you shrinking until it felt like the air itself was suffocating, pressing you together.
And then, he moved.
His hand came up slowly, hesitantly, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, his touch feather-soft, like he was testing the moment, unsure if you’d pull away. Your skin tingled where his hand touched, sending a shiver down your spine, and for a brief second, neither of you moved. His thumb gently grazed your jawline, and the touch was so tender, so unexpected from him, that it made your chest tighten.
When you didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat, something shifted in him. The tension snapped like a taut string, unravelling all at once. He closed the gap between you in a heartbeat, and before you could think, before you could process what was happening, his lips were on yours.
The kiss wasn’t soft. It was urgent, messy, like he’d been holding back for far too long and couldn’t control it anymore. His lips pressed against yours with a hunger that matched the heat between you, a raw, desperate energy that made your knees weaken. It wasn’t gentle; it wasn’t careful. It was a release—months of pent-up frustration, confusion, anger, and something else that neither of you had been willing to acknowledge until now.
Your body responded instinctively, your hands moving to his chest, gripping the fabric of his suit as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded. His body was warm, solid beneath your touch, and you could feel his heart racing just as wildly as yours. You pulled him closer, needing more of him, needing this as much as he did.
The kiss deepened, and his hand slid from your cheek to tangle in your hair, pulling you even closer. Your mouths moved together in a rhythm that was both frantic and intoxicating, as if you were both trying to make up for all the time you’d spent fighting this. Every brush of his lips, every shift of his hands made your pulse spike, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. You could taste the desperation in his kiss, feel the tension still lingering in the way his body pressed against yours.
You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, tangled in each other, caught in the whirlwind of your own undoing. But when you finally pulled apart, gasping for air, your foreheads pressed together, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Your breaths came heavy and uneven, the world spinning around you as you tried to catch up to what had just happened.
Your mind was a haze of emotions—confusion, relief, frustration—and yet there was something undeniable settling deep inside you, something you couldn’t push away anymore.
You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, and your heart was still racing, but now, instead of fear or anger, there was something softer, something that scared you just as much.
"I’m still angry with you," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. But there was no heat behind your words now, just the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, like you couldn’t quite hold it back.
He let out a soft, breathless laugh, the sound vibrating between you as he brushed a thumb along your jawline, his touch lingering, as if he didn’t want to let go. His eyes softened as they met yours, the usual sharpness replaced by something you weren't used to seeing in him—vulnerability.
"I wouldn’t expect anything less," he murmured, his voice low, rough with the aftermath of what had just passed between you. His thumb traced slow, lazy circles against your skin, sending a fresh wave of warmth through you.
His forehead still rested against yours, and the air between you was thick with the unspoken things that hung in the balance. You could feel his breath mingling with yours, could still taste the remnants of his kiss on your lips. The tension hadn’t disappeared—it had merely shifted, becoming something new, something more dangerous. The line between you was gone now, blurred beyond recognition, and you didn’t know how to navigate it.
His other hand came to rest on your hip, the touch firm, possessive, pulling you just a fraction closer. Your body responded before your mind could catch up, and you didn’t stop it this time. You didn’t want to.
His lips hovered just above yours, teasing, tempting, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the two of you. You could feel his breath, hot and heavy, his eyes searching yours for permission—for something more. And in that moment, you realised that you wanted it, too. Wanted him.
the end.
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rickyriddle · 2 months ago
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Agatha All Along Theory: The Road isn't real
(Disclaimer: I'll be using Teen's real name at some point so you better be up to date before reading)
Here's a theory I need to post before the last episodes air in case I'm right.
The actual Witches Road never existed. It was just a con Agatha created to trick witches and steal their magic. The reason why people think you can't survive the road is because everyone who tried to get there died (killed by Agatha). Alice even said the Road was just a con, because it was. Agatha's first reaction to Teen mentioning the Road is that it's not real, because she knows it's not. She even told him the Road would kill him- because the Road was always a con to kill witches and take their powers.
Agatha never intended to get her current coven there, she always planned for the song to fail and to provoke them so they'd attack her and she could get her magic back. She didn't want Teen to be there to spare him that fate.
That's why Agatha looked genuinely surprised when the Road does appear, and she doesn't seem to actually be familiar with it. She probably spread the rumour that she is the only one who survived in order to lure witches who are interested. The reason why she said she takes power from the undeserving is because she considered that witches who want to walk the road are too lazy to learn magic on their own, it's a way for her to justify killing them. She even told Teen that he wanted to take a "shortcut" with a bit of contempt in her voice when he mentioned looking for the Road.
Now as for this Witches Road... it's prob a hex Billy created without realizing it. The door only appeared after he started to be afraid of the Salem Seven, and it had a hexagon shape. Sounds familiar? Just like Wanda's hex. And I bet Agatha always had a doubt it was him, since she knew damn well the Road wasn't real since she made it up. She looked genuinely confused when it first appeared and definitely do not know anything about it and kept bullshitting her way to the others and acting as an expert.
Billy said "this is exactly how I pictured it" and Agatha replied "it suits you" because she knew he made it. It actually suited him. A lot of the stuff in the hex are based on him, lots of reference to his room as Billy Kaplan. And that's what Agatha meant by "you and your mother have the same tell". They both created an alternate reality unconsciously due to strong emotions. That's how she knew he was Wanda's son, the major clue. His magic works similarly to hers.
That would also explain Agatha's reaction to Sharon's death. "I didn't know you had it in you" was directed at Billy. Agatha wasn't expecting people to actually die since he created the road. So at that moment, she realized that child created a deadly hex, and didn't think he had it in him (not that he killed Sharon on purpose, but the road he made did).
That might explain Rio's reaction, usually the con of the road doesn't go that far, so she's feeling impatient because these witches should have been dead a while ago when Agatha lured them. That could also explain why Rio herself didn't seem familiar with the Road, since it never existed before.
That could also explain why Agatha argued with Jen regarding the lyrics of the ballad. If the road is her con, then she wrote the original lyric and might be unaware that some terms changed over time (like two becoming through).
So, the current road was created by Billy subconsciously, but the concept of the road was created by Agatha as long time ago as a con and ironically, it became real because of Billy. So, the title is true. It really was... Agatha all Along.
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tickfleato · 1 year ago
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how to make cool blobby turing patterns in photoshop
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i'll preface with i learned the basic loop from skimming a tutorial on youtube, but as someone who prefers written tutorials i'm sure many would appreciate one! also, the second part of this is some of the visual effects i figured out on my own using blending modes and stuff.
i'm using photoshop CS4 on a mac so some buttons and stuff might be in different places on windows and newer photoshop versions but all the actions are the same. my canvas is 1000x1000 pixels.
UPDATES (i'm hoping these'll show up whenever you open the readmore?)
it's possible to do something similar in krita using this plugin, made by the love @arcaedex
it's also possible to do this in photopea, a free browser alternative to photoshop! the results are pretty much identical.
FIRST off you wanna get or make a black and white image of some kind. it has to be one layer. can be noise, a photo, a bunch of lines, whatever. here's mine, just some quick airbrush lines:
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now find the actions tab. idk what it looks like in newer versions of photoshop but you probably won't need to dig!
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hit the little page thingy to make a new pattern. once you hit 'record', it'll record everything you do. the little square 'stop' icon will end it.
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now you want to do a high pass filter. you can mess around with the radius to change the size of your squiggles, but the tutorial had it set to 6. experiment!
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now add the 'threshold' adjustment layer. i use the adjustments tab but i think there's also a dropdown menu somewhere. keep it at the default, 128. merge it down. (control or command + E or you can right click it like some kind of weirdo)
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and finally, the gaussian blur! the radius of this affects the shape and size of your squiggles as well. i like to keep it around 4.5 but you can mess around with that too.
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after that, hit 'stop' on the action you're recording, and then repeat it a bunch of times using the 'play' button, until you have something you like, like this:
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WOW!! that was fun!! and only a little tedious thanks to the power of macros. anyway, here's some fun layer blending stuff i like to do. it's with a different pattern cause i made this bit first.
anyway, using a black and white gradient (or a grey base that you do black and white airbrush on), make a layer with the vivid light. this will make the blobs look thicker or thinner.
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then, for cool colors, do a gradient map adjustment layer over that:
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and finally, my best friend, the overlay layer. just using a gradient here bc i'm lazy, but feel free to experiment with brushes, colors, and blending modes!
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NOW GO. MAKE COOL SHIT WITH THE POWER OF MATH. AND SEND IT TO ME
also these are not hard and fast rules PLEASE mess around with them to see what kind of weird shit you can make. here's a gif. as you can see i added some random airblush blobs in the middle of it, for fun.
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shius · 1 year ago
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Can u write top suguru x househusband (wifey) male reader
as you wish!
| house husband | v.2
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modern au | bottom!househusband!reader x top!teacher!suguru
a reversed roles fic based on my previous house husband writing
summary- suguru has had a frustratingly difficult day day. coming home to his precious house husband is just what he needed to relieve his stress.
cw- amab!reader, dubcon, petname ‘angel’, consensual groping, praise, body worship if you squint, gentle sex, missionary, marking, unprotected sex, soft suguru
not proofread, a bit rushed
wc: 1.2k
you’ve been at home all day, cleaning for the umpteenth time that day. you always kept the house pretty spotless and having no day job left you pretty unoccupied unless you made plans with friends, or went shopping. your real highlight of the say, however, was your husband coming home from work. he worked as a full-time teacher, but the school was one of the biggest in the area, so he made enough to be the breadwinner. today was not his day. he unlocked the door and stepped inside like he had been wishing to do since school started. he took off his lanyard, his shoes, and let out a big sigh, and flopping onto the couch before you could greet him. you heard him from the bedroom and made your way over to him. you say next to his head on the couch and started brushing your fingers through his hair. “how was your day, suguru?” you ask him. he looked a lot more exhausted than usual, so you were pretty attentive about it. he let out a long deep breath through his nose before responding. “those students of mine were really testing my patience today. it gets so frustrating.” he said, clearly angry but his soft spoken voice somehow tuned that feeling out. he scooted his body up for his head to rest on your lap, taking in your gentle aura. he sat up after a while and pulled you to straddle him. “missed you, angel…” he mumbled into your chest as he held you. you found it so sweet when he used that nickname you. you continued rubbing his back as you allowed large his hands so graze over your clothing. he basked in your scent. his hands roaming along your figure on top of him. he tilted his head up to look at you where he met your eyes already looking at him. you leaned your neck down so you could kiss him, tender as ever. he loved touching your body, any part of it he could get his hands on he admired. you sat on your knees to adjust yourself better, “accidentally” grinding against his tight slacks. what can you say, you missed him all day. his breath hitched and his eyes shot up at you. “what are you doing, y/n?” he questioned, a little flustered. “ ‘m sorry suguru, i missed you a lot today…” you answered him, your cheeks heating up at the confession. you hugged him closer, feeling his hands roaming around your ass. you jumped at the feeling, watching as a sly grin formed in his face.
one of his hand sneaked around to both your fronts, reaching palm you through your underwear you had been to lazy to change out of. your breathing got heavy. you could feel against your inner thigh his cock slowly began to strain in his pants. he grunted quietly every time your body shifted on top of his. he pulled your cock out of your underwear, sending a shiver down your spine. he rubbed his finger over the top, collecting any seeping pre. you moved yourself off of him so you could take your bottoms off completely. he does the same, undoing his slacks and slipping them off of his waist. he wasted no time indulging in you, climbing over your body on the couch, trapping you underneath him, your legs on either side of his. he caught your lips for a messy french kiss. he held your face with one hand and your waist with the other. you could feel the heat radiating off his throbbing cock against yours. “put it in, please…” you begged. “without any preparation? are you that desperate?” he said, teasingly. “i don’t care if it hurts… i just need you…” you whines, wrapping your arms around his neck. he felt his heart flutter, honestly. knowing you were craving him so intensely. he did as you wished however, jerking himself a few times so he could have some for, of lubricant if not his saliva. you were so tight. he took longer to push himself inside of you because of that. he hissed, the squeeze of your hole made it so much more heated for him. you dug your nails in his shoulders, the feeling of him stretching you out stung, but it’s what you begged for. you felt your eyes glass over, letting out a string of whines. you heard his grunts as he bottomed out, he would take as long as he needed no matter how frustrated he was, he could never risk hurting you. he hooked your legs around his arms, letting them rest on the nook of his elbows. he planted his hand on the couch next the sides where your upper back met the cushion. making your hips raise up further. “are you ready, angel?” he asked you, looking up at you, seeing the lewd expression painted on your face. “mhm” you answer. you could feel every ridge of his length inside of you. he started to thrust, not taking long until he rammed against the most sensitive spot inside of you. the curve of his cock always seeming to find its way. your lips parted, moans and quiet cries of his name spilling out. he lowered his head to place kisses along the side of your neck, nipping the soft skin, marking you on your tender flesh.
your whined his name whenever his pace changed, going slow at some moments, speeding himself up the next. his long started to fall down into his face from the quick motions. he looked so beautiful with his hair in his way like this. you heard how quiet, but noticeable, moans were released from him. every now and then hearing a, “god..” “you’re so tight, angel…” nothing could get past you. your sensitive cock already leaking cum from the tip everytime your body shook from his thrusts. his hips started to grind against you, your body jolted, the head of his cock continuously hitting your spot. you gripped onto him tighter, moaning his name. your walls convulsed around his shaft, making him groan, sinking his head down. he grinded into you deeper as you came against both your and his abdomen. your body shook underneath him, following right behind you was his release. you felt himself slowly try to pull out but failing, as he was already shooting his cum inside of you. he watch his release seep from you. he sat back on his knees, catching both of your breaths. you moved the hair stuck to your forehead out of the way, struggling to sit up. “ah, im sorry, angel. let me help you to get cleaned up.” he said, comforting you. you nodded, taking his hand as he picked you up bridal style, smiling at you, taking the both of you to the bathroom, where he started a warm bath for the both of you to share. needless to say, he was a renewed man at school the next day.
————————————————————————
thank you for your request! ~ shius
| written by shius, please do not steal or repost my work without permission! |
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brattyfork · 1 year ago
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drank
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summary: matt n his brothers go to a party. he has fun but he missed you.
warnings: drunk sex, sub!matt+mommy kink lol
based on this request!
way back when, when matt and i first started having sex and figuring out our safe word, something interesting came up.
“what if i’m drunk?” i looked at him confused.
“what do you mean?”
“well sometimes when i’m drunk i get horny, i wanna have sex but i don’t want you to feel like you’re taking advantage of me”
“oh ok, uhh i mean we can still use the safe word in that situation right? ill just make sure you remember it before we start?”
“okay sounds good” he smiled at me.
the boys had some influencer party to go to, normally i’d tag along but i really didn’t wanna go anywhere, opting for one of matt’s tshirts instead of a crop top (is this line cringe?).
i knew matt wouldn’t do anything stupid at a party. furthermore, i knew nick and chris, mainly nick, wouldn’t let him do anything really stupid. i trusted him, i knew he’d feel the same about me going out, as long as he knew i’d be safe.
i decided to just sit on the couch, watch tv. i was watching criminal minds when i heard a car door outside. i could hear someone fumbling with the doorknob for a few seconds before before the lock turned and the door opened. nick walked in first, holding the door open for chris and a stumbling matt. he kicked off his shoes, slamming his hand on the wall, almost falling.
“how was the party?” i asked no one in particular.
“well they had fun” nick said, gesturing to the two younger triplets.
“it was cool, matt had too much to drink. lightweight.” chris rolled his eyes.
“be nice” i scolded. matt made his way to the couch, throwing himself over the back, sitting next to me then laying his head in my lap.
“you have fun baby?” i spoke softly.
“yes, missed you tho” i ran my hands through his hair.
“i missed you too my love” i dipped my head down to give him a sweet kiss. it quickly turned rough and needy. i pulled away, conscious of his brothers still downstairs. he let out a whine trying to chase my lips.
“you wanna go to bed baby?” i looked into his eyes, hoping he knew what i meant. his eyes were dark, not black with lust like usual, more doe-y, filled with need.
he nodded using all his strength to sit up, lifting his head off my lap. i stood up, looking back when i noticed he hadn’t moved. “cmon baby, let’s go” i tried to encourage him.
“mmmm, carry me”
“matt you know i can’t carry you, you’re too big”
“don’t be mean!”
“you know what i mean baby, you’re too strong and muscular”
“mhm”
“cmon get up, let’s go” i reached out my hand. he groaned, grabbing it and pulling with so much force i almost fell on him. i brought my other hand over, now using both my arms and all my strength to pull this man up. he finally stood up, he walked perfectly fine. i rolled my eyes, realizing he way just being lazy. he held my hand tight as i walked us up the stairs to our room. i pulled him into the room, he lets go of my hand, falling to the bed.
“how ya feeling baby?” i asked sitting next to him on the edge of the bed.
“i feel good, i missed you”
“i missed you too sweet boy”
“i really, really missed you” looking at me with his doe eyes, silently begging me to understand.
i leaned down to him pressing a sweet but deep kiss, pulling away shortly after.
“what’d you miss baby?” i whispered against his lips, pressing one more kiss to them before moving down his neck.
“your hands, your mouth, you” he whimpered the last word as i bit down into his neck, sucking a deep purple hickey into the soft skin.
“yeah? you want mommy to make you feel good? with my hands?” i ran my hands down his pants, resting my hands right next to his bulge. “with my mouth?” i placed wet kisses to his neck, grazing against the mark i left before.
“fuck yes please god yes”
“do you remember your safe word?”
“yes yes i know my safe word, just touch me already” i grabbed his face harshly.
“don’t be a brat, or ill leave you here to take care of yourself” i spat. he gave me puppy eyes.
“‘m sorry mommy”
“you gonna be a good boy for me?”
“yes yes, wanna be your good boy please”
i ran my hands up his shirt, moving them along his tummy before bringing my fingers to the hem and pulling it up. he got the hint and leaned forward, allowing me to take it off. i brought my hands down to his zipper. i began unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans when i felt him tug on the hem of my shirt. i pulled away, taking my hands off his lap to lift my shirt over my head.
when i looked back at him, his pants were down. i straddled him briefly, moving over him to the other side of the bed. i leaned down, kissing down his now visible v-line, slipping my fingers into the waist band of his boxers. his dick shot up, the tip red and needy, dripping with precum.
“aw baby. so worked up and i’ve barely touched you”
“please…”
“please what baby? what do you want?”
“need you to touch me please” i brought my hand up to his mouth.
“spit”
he did as i asked, or demanded i guess, and i brought my hand down to his cock, stroking up and down him a few times. he threw his head back, letting small moans and whines out, egging me on more.
i stroked him for awhile, focusing on the wonderful faces he made and his desperate noises. he started to squirm, trying to buck up into my hand.
“please mommy more i need more” i smirked at him, the sound of him begging was music to my ears.
i decided to be nice, letting spit fall from my mouth onto his cock before leaning down, sucking on the tip. as soon as i got used to his size in my mouth, i deep throat him, letting his tip hit the back of my throat.
this earned a loud “FUCK” from him, causing me to pull off, making him whine.
“you gotta be quiet baby, don’t want your brothers hearing how needy you are, do you?” i taunted, his cheeks turning a brighter pink. “gonna be quiet? be a good boy for me?”
“yes fuck i promise i’ll be good”
i brought my head down to his lap, taking all of him in my mouth at once. he bit his lip, the whimpers still sounding through. i sped up, going up all the way to the tip and quickly back down to the base. matt had stopped biting his lip, opening his mouth so he could let out large breaths. as i kept sucking him, his breathing turned to what could only be described as panting and fuck it was so hot.
“i-i’m close, f-fuck” he let out between pants. i thought for a second, stilling my movements before pulling off. he let out such a needy groan, i could’ve cum right then and there.
“why?” he looked to me, his eyes brimming with tears.
i gave him a kiss, feeling bad that he was upset.
“i’m sorry baby, mommy wants you to fill her up, don’t you wanna make mommy feel good?”
“yes fuck wanna be inside you mommy please god” he moved his hands up to my bra, still covering my chest.
“can you take this off? wanna see your pretty body” i smiled at him, moving my hands behind my back to unclasp it, pulling it down my shoulders making my tits bounce. i swear i could see some drool leave his open mouth. i quickly pulled my pants and underwear down, not wanting to make him wait any longer and needing him inside me.
i straddled his lap, rubbing my wet clit over his cock, still slippery from my mouth.
“ohmygod” he slurred out, making me giggle a bit, loving how much of an effect i had on him. i lifted myself up, taking him in my hand and lining him up with my entrance.
i sank down slowly on him, feeling every vein against my walls. his eyes rolled back into his head, a deep whine coming from his throat, harmonizing with my moans.
“fuck matty, so fucking big, making mommy feel so good” i bounced on him a few times before i realized how tired i was and began grinding instead.
“h-holy shit mommy, feels s’good”
“been such a good boy for me tonight baby, you wanna cum inside me?”
“fuck, yes please fuck oh my god”
i leaned down connecting our chests, moving my head into the crook of his neck. i sucked another mark into him, nibbling the rest of his neck before breathing on his ear.
“cum whenever you’re ready baby, gonna make mommy cum too” i continued grinding on him, his tip brushing the bottom of my cervix each time. i moved faster, chasing my own high. i felt him twitch inside me, sending me over the edge. i bit down on his neck, trying not to be too loud, matt cried out. between me biting him and clenching around him, his hips sputtered, unloading his cum as far into me as he could.
i let out a squeaky groan as he filled me up. there was no better feeling, his warm load sent me over the edge everytime. i came again, crying out as i clenched around his sensitive cock and began to twitch on him.
matt wrapped his arms around my lower back, trying to still my movements. we both came down from our highs, i lifted my head out of his neck, moving to look at him. his hair was messy, i could see the marks id left, his lips red from biting them so hard, his eyes glossed over.
i kissed him, passionately, there was no sexual motive behind it, i simply wanted to convey how much i appreciate him. he was incredible, in every single way, not just in bed, he was the perfect boyfriend. the perfect man.
“i love you more than anything”
“i love you too baby, so so much” he replied, brushing my hair out of my face.
i gave him another peck before moving to get off him, realizing his cum and cock we’re still inside me. he held my thighs, not letting me get up and i looked at him confused.
“will you uh- can we… sleep like this?”
“of course baby, you like how it feels? leaving your cum inside me? how tight i am around you?” i teased him.
“fuck don’t talk like that, i don’t have the energy for another round” he chuckled.
i gave him another kiss before laying down on top of him, moving carefully so he didn’t come out.
“goodnight matty” i whispered into his ear.
“goodnight my love”
a/n: hi yall, sorry i haven’t posted in a while. busy w school and on top of that we found out we gotta move. but i hope u guys enjoyed, i wrote most of this while high so if anything doesn’t make sense lmk. ALSO i am catching up on requests rn, if you requested something i promise i am working on it <3
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stararch4ngelqueen · 1 year ago
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Self indulgent but … thanksgiving w a gf who loves the holidays but doesn’t have family or friends to spend them with ?
This is really small and super quick, I hope you enjoy it! I do hope you have a wonderful day! (Also went ahead and incorporated two things I made today just because my mind is too lazy to think of anything else. If you don’t like them, womp womp/jk Pretend Gotham War dosent exist)
Time written - 8:09 p.m
“You sure I’m not invading in on their celebration?” You vocalize your concern for about the fiftieth time after smoothing out your final layer of fluffy, whipped concoction for your dessert dish.
“If anything, Alfred will appreciate one less dessert to make.” Jason responds, casually leaning across the countertop across from you, watching you work your magic on making one of your miracle dishes. While you didn’t necessarily have to bring a dessert, you insisted as a show of good faith.
“It’ll give the old man a reason to sit down for once,” Jason adds, referring to Alfred’s insistence upon waiting by everyone until they got full plates and thoroughly enjoyed a majority of their meals.
You kept asking the same question, just with different rephrasing of words. You were nervous, Jason could see that by the way you smoothed the silicone spatula over the top of your dessert for the tenth time, insisting perfection on something that already tasted heavenly.
Jason would know. He’s always your designated taste tester.
You went above and beyond with everything you did; Making your own whipped cream, using Madagascar vanilla beans, making your own pudding base from scratch.
“Babe.”
“Hm?” You respond with a concentrated stare on your dish.
“Look at me real quick.”
You spare a short glance up at him, putting up a sweet front of a smile. “What? I’m almost done, Jay.”
“I know,” Jason curts. “I’m sure they’ll love it.”
You nod, swallowing before focusing again on the top of your dish. You picked up the recipe from an online blog article about three years ago; an upgrade on a traditional banana pudding using heavy cream and expensive flavoring, the dessert reeking of pure holiday that had to be shared with the rest of the world.
“Are you sure this looks okay?” You ask, feeling like the top of the dessert needed a lot more than wafer cookies and bananas. Nuts? Caramel drizzle?
“It looks great,” Jason insists, approaching your side of the counter, settling his hand along your hip. “Scratch that. It looks delicious, incredible, mouthwatering. All the good words, sweetheart.”
You can’t help but smile, your cheeks warming with his compliments. Raising your whipped cream spoon to his mouth, you tap his bottom lip before giving him a kiss, hearing his muffled chuckle shortly after.
“Decadent,” He adds, licking his bottom lip of any remaining, perfectly sweet cream. “Perfect. Believe me, Dick and Alfred will never see any banana pudding the same way again.”
You could only hope so, giving him another smile. You liked making this dish, bringing it to your work during little dinner parties. The loudest compliment was a dish scraped empty, yet no one ever asked for the recipe. No one wondered who made it, no one really asked.
“You sure it looks perfect?” Again, your doubts can’t help but have you repeat your broken vinyl record. “I want it to be perfect.”
“It is perfect,” Jason gently reassures with firm sentiment, giving your cheek a soft squeeze. You set your mind to something, you keep at it until you’re perfectly satisfied. As stubborn as it makes you, you always try above your best.
This was your first official gathering with the entirety of Jason’s family. It wasn’t your first, as you’ve been over a few times before for pizza and burgers for movie nights, but never with every single Bat related member at a large, ornately decorated table in an extravagant dining room.
Especially, never with Bruce. Not until tonight, where they’d have a little private event to themselves at the manor. A rare occasion where masks and secret identities weren’t needed. Sometimes, criminal behaviors didn’t allow them a break, so this was truly a treat.
Dick could be himself, fussing over preferences of pumpkin and sweet potato to an annoyed Tim. Babs would scoff her amusement while recording them to show off during Christmas, and the rest would gawk or scoff, chatting amongst themselves or listening in on such a boisterous conversation.
This time, the special guest would be you; the girl Red Hood was sweet on long before you knew his name, becoming the sole guardian of every important identity of the Wayne family.
“Trust me. They invited you, it’ll just be us. It was a big vote with no one opposing.”
Those words brought a more comforting, genuine smile to your face, one Jason could tell was more truthful. Holidays were joyfully dreadful to spend alone in an empty home, the promise of a manor full of friendly faces happy to see you, happy to spend time with you and incorporate you into a tradition you desperately craved was a godsend. It felt too good to be true.
The best part of it all was how much Jason understood. He didn’t celebrate these kinds of holidays when he was a child. No foster family, or even his own mother, could spare enough money to provide grand meals and hours of spending time with people you care for.
It took him a long time to get used to it, he wanted that for you as well. You deserved it after all, they all liked you in their own unique way.
“I’m sure a solid nine out of ten attendants will enjoy those sugar cookie martinis,” Jason murmurs while adjusting a few strands of your hair, reminding you of the one underage family member that ‘tolerated’ your presence.
“Do they got a full stock of vanilla vodka?”
“Course they do. Personally know Bruce has a ton of amaretto.”
“‘Personally?’”
“All those bottles for our dates, babe. Grabbed them all from somewhere.”
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itskattkm · 7 months ago
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Multiverse
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Based on a request: Could you do a fanfic where all of JOs characters meet and R has to explain they're all characters in movies and shows and how they're acted by R's gf, Jenna Ortega?
Characters would preferably be the following: Wednesday, Tara, Vada, Camila, Phoebe, Lorraine, Mabel, Ellie and Cairo (Even tho that movie isn't out yet)
If you don't want to use all the characters thats fine lol. I'm too lazy to write this myself.
JO Characters X Fem Reader
A/N: I’m so sorry that it took me so long. I wasn’t sure what end I wanted to choose. So I decided to not overthink to much and keep it short so the end is pretty shit haha. Hope you can still enjoy anon :)
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It’s been one of those rare summer days where the clouds were turning into a coal grey way and turning the whole light that fell onto the earth in a mix of yellow light and dark highlites. I saw just seconds ago a light struck in the corner of my eyes as I turned my head towards the window in the living room trying to say “there was a lightning it mus-“ and then there was it.
A growl. Something that sounded like a crisp crash high in the distance but still like it was happening right next to you. Thunder.
I chuckled to myself. Before I could end my own sentence the thunder had spoken for itself.
I walked towards the window. Watching rain falling down in an immense amount, feeling glad that I was in my apartment and didn’t had to walk through that wild mess.
“Rain... Rain is like a heavy mood. It is sad but it has a beautiful way of calming you down at the same time. Rain can make you cry but it can also make you calm"
I heard the familiar voice of my girlfriend. But kept watching the rain without turning around and smiled.
"You know... Rain can also be a bit spooky. Rain makes the shadows darker. Rain makes the dark even darker. Rain makes mystery even more mysterious."
I chuckled saying “wow that one turned a bit dark I guess…” I was turning around Expecting to see her soaked in the rain. Seeing already in front of my eyes how her bangs were probably all wet and sticking on her forehead. But when my eyes met hers, i was quite confused and a light laugh escaped me.
“Why do you look like Wednesday Addams?” I asked her. Walking a step towards her. It was almost like she became one with the shadows in the room. Wearing a big black coat. Covering what she was wearing under it. Her also black doc martens being pretty visible.
Her hair was darker then it was before she left to meet Enrique and prepare things for the upcoming met gala. I looked at her with a tilted head.
“I thought that people stopped asking stupid questions but here you are… another example for our current lost generation” she said monotone.
I looked even more confused feeling like there were tons of gears moving in my head and that she could see them “I’m confused…” I barely whispered.
“I often have that affect on people…”
She said and looked with an almost disgusted gaze at me. Scanning me from head to toe making me feel some kinda way uneasy. Even though I really loved the way Jenna played Wednesday Addams… that type of character was defiantly to much to handle. I found enough courage despise the mixed feelings I had and was about to say something when I recognized another figure beside me. My eyes landing on dark brown eyes, Emphasized with dark eyeliner wich Jenna rarely wore.
My mouth opened slight. Looking even more confused by now if this was possible.
My eyes scanning her figure within seconds. Seeing her wearing some short hot pants with a thin top and a congnac brown leather jacket. The fit feeling pretty familiar to me.
She was wearing eye makeup but the rest of her face was all clean. Wich made her freckles more present than usual. A smile with also slight confusion covered her face “wow you look pretty emo…” was what she said. But she didn’t said it to me.
“Some would consider I’m the definition of emo” said the one who looked like Wednesday.
I felt my heart running faster looking between the both of them.
“You see her too?” I asked Jenna beside me. But I wasn’t sure if it was actually Jenna.
“Yeah I do… by the way what’s your name?”
She answered giving me that big smile that showed her dimples and made me feel a bit flustered. That smile always had an effect on me.
But I was way to overwhelmed to actually tell her my name since there were two people that looked like Jenna so I asked
“Who are you?”
“Mabel…” she said and gave me a very knees weakening look, combined with that smile.
“Mabel… Wednesday…” I whispered looking between the both of you.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked more myself than both of them.
And right when the last few words left my mouth there was another person appearing in the living room. But the person seemed to be way to focused on my bookshelves.
All three of us watched the person.
She was wearing a white dress, showing her curves and long legs wich were wearing knee high brown boots. A tiny bag was hanging over her shoulders as her tiny but also gentle looking hands touched the backs of the books. Reading in silence the title names. Her hair was falling over her back in beautiful waves. The little light in the living room falling on it and showing a mixture of brown and red highlites.
“Y/N I don't think you have real books here... you have a Harry Potter book.. that's not a real book” She scrunches up her face “I'm sorry but it's the truth” She picks up a book and checks the title “Ugh... It's called a touch of darkness and it's about Persephone and Hades in a version of a Greek world in our time? *She shrugs it off*”
I felt a bit offended but also didn’t knew what to say.
Wednesday said “if you like Greek mythology you at least could’ve read the real tales. Like the ilias or oddysey” I nodded slightly ashamed and my gaze met Mabel’s she whispered “I only watched Percy Jackson once so don’t look at me for help…”
I took a deep breath and looked back at the woman beside my shelves. She had turned around by now and was lightning up a cigarette. I could see the amount of rings on her other hand and that cheeky but also dangerous smile on her dark bordo lips.
“Cairo Sweet?” I asked speechless.
“Wow well that’s a …unique name” said Mabel with a chuckled.
“I would say being called after a weekday is more unusual then being called as a well know city with history…” said Cairo and gave Wednesday a look.
My eyes widened feeling like Cairo was about to die.
“ I’m named after a nursery rhyme containing the line “Wednesday's child is full of woe.” The poem, which assigns personalities to children based on the day they were born, dates back to at least 1838. Cairo-Sweet. What kinda name is that, anyway? Sounds like the kind they'd use in a very bad written fanfiction” Wednesday glares at Cairo for daring to question the legitimacy of her name and gives her a dead stare.
I looked at both of them excited now and chuckled saying “as a writer you should have know that Cairo… you better not mess with Wednesday. She’s a writer and she could kill you if she wants”
Mabel beside me just whispered quite “okay this is getting very interesting here”
Wednesday and Cairo were throwing glares at each other when another person moved to my side and said “what kind of fever dream is that?”
I laughed and shaked my head looking at my right side to see another version of my girlfriend, wearing basketball shorts and an oversized shirt. I felt like nothing could surprise me anymore at this point so I smiled friendly and held my hand out saying “your Vada right? Nice to meet you I’m Y/N”
Vada smiled and shook my hand. I was explaining to her what was currently happening and introduced the others to her. Vadas hand rested on my shoulder now as she said “it’s like the most weirdest names I’ve ever seen…” an awkward smile appearing on her lips.
“You’re not surprised about the fact that you all look exact the same? Just different?”
Suddenly there was a Laugh “Yeah, there's a glitch in the system or something. It's just kind of...” said the 5.1 Latina beside me and shrugged. I looked speechless at Tara fucking Carpenter. Not sure if I was in a fan girl mode or going right into the simp mode.
“Tara Carpenter… holy shit” I whispered and looked at her stunned. Not sure how to process this all. She gave me a friendly smile and my head felt like exploding.
“She good?” Asked another version of Jenna’s Characters. Sitting on the armchair with her sunglasses and smoothie as she held a tiny book in her hands. Ellie from you I assumed.
My eyes kept jumping between all those people in my living room. Noticing even more of them.
“10 dollars she’s gonna pass out” said Wednesday cold as Cairo agreed and jumped in the bet. In my living room we’re around six characters that my girlfriend had played and it was way to hard to understand what the hell was going on.
No matter in what direction I looked. They were everywhere. Talking, arguing, connecting.
I took a deep breath and sat down on my couch. “What the hell is going on?” I asked louder and everyone became silent.
They looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.
“I have to admit this is weird… for real why do we all look like the same person?” Asked now Vada pointing out her hands at everyone.
Everyone looked around, till all gazes fell on me. Tara walked towards me saying “you seem to know every one of us… so you may enlighten us?” I nodded in an almost trance like mode and got up. Standing in the center while all of them were standing around me like in a circle.
“Okay… maybe this is some weird multiverse thing? A Paradoxon? Or I’m dreaming… dead… I don’t know but!” I said looked at all of you.
I shrugged my shoulders
“Well what can I say you all are movie characters…”
“ Y/N are you feeling alright? Or are the fumes from the glue factory getting to you?”Wednesday gives me a cold stare “Or do you need to sit down? Do you need a hit with the shovel so the bad thoughts go away?”
I looked at her serious saying
“What?! No! Listen…” I said and reached for my phone. I typed in Wednesday in Netflix and showed it to her and the others.
Cairo Looks at me with confusion “What a nerd, knowing all the facts about movie characters and who plays them. Like, who cares? I’ve got better things to do all day long than waste my time on silly little facts of the past, and I don’t even want to waste my time being in the same room as a loser like you!” She glares at me, showing clear signs of aggression.
“Okay you are defiantly meaner as you seem in your movie…” I said slight offended and looked over at Tara who was my fav character. Seeking for some comfort
She Shrugs “Oh don’t let her bother you, she’s... Anyways, did you guys want to talk about anything specific or are we going to all go to our separate corners and just stare at each other? I mean, that sounds kind of odd if I say it outloud...”
I laughed nervous “I would like to know why you guys even are here in the first place… this is against all rules. How is this even possible?”
“You’ll find a lot of things hard to explain away with logic, you know? Especially a certain someone who likes to hang out with a bunch of fictional characters” said Wednesday monotone and gave me another cold, intimidating stare “beside that you better stop trying to convince us that we are only movie characters. I’ll be good for you, if you drop the topic”
“Why? After all you all just appeared out of nowhere in my Apartment!..” I said a bit angry. Starting to feel like I was the bad one here suddenly.
Mabel looked around while playing with her moving her hands in the back of her pockets “So, what should we talk about then?” She asks awkwardly.
Vada was sitting in the corner and stares at the floor then says “I feel like the most... average one here....”
Tara Looks at Vada awkwardly “Don't say that... you're just as special as all of us. You're not average. Don't ever think that!”
“Yeah she’s right. You are special and we love you… what you’ve been through was awful” I said reassuring and hugged her. Since I knew what Vada had been through cause I watched the movie obviously, I had a soft spot for her.
“Uh... Thanks y/n......” She awkwardly hugged me back and blushed a little bit, looking down and covering her face. “How did you know?.....” She looked up at me a bit more, curious than before.
“Because you’re a movie character and I saw your story… that’s what I’m trying to explain to you guys” I sighed and looked at Tara.
“Tara you have a sister called Sam. You two had been survivors of a ghostface attack two times. You have several stab wounds in your abdomen and shoulder and on your hand as well. Sam ist the daughter of the origin Ghostface killer, Billy Loomies “ I explained “Your form the movie called Scream, your character was introduced in the fifth and sixth movie… my fav ones” I added with a shy smile.
Tara looked around impressed “How do you even know all these facts?” She whispered and realized that I knew all the names without even asking any one of you “It’s like, magic or something?” She asked.
I looked at Cairo and said “And your form one of the current movies my girlfriend made. It’s called millers girl. And yeah. I know what you did. Accusing your teacher for something he did not really do but I’m on your side tho. But it’s not cool to kiss and blackmail your best friend Winnie. Your dangerous Cairo. But I still feel mesmerized by you… somehow” I explained and shrugged.
Cairo rolled her Eyes “Wow, just wow. Who cares? I didn't ask for your input so keep it to yourself please and thank you” She turns her cigarette off and crosses her arms, giving me a pissed look.
“You are really mean... You seemed so nice at the beginning of your movie” i said almost disappointed. “Yeah well I turned out to be different and that's too bad for you” She continues to glare at me with aggressive eyes.
I sighed again and looked at Mabel.
“Mabel. You’re from the movie finestkind. You’re dating some fisher guy. It’s about crime and drugs. Your character is only a side character but you’re cool. Pretty bold and flirty. You had some spicy scenes respect for that…”
“Wow you really do know a lot-“ She was cut off by Wednesday, who started making an unimpressed sound.
I turned to her “And then the one and only Wednesday Addams. You are the currently new portrayed version of that character. You have your own tv show. You attend a dark Academy and solve crimes and murderes… second season will come out soon and by the way… people ship you pretty hard with Enid”
Wednesday looked me dead in the eyes “I do not appreciate your tone of delivery at all. I’m going to have to ask you to watch it a little, or else… that’s the nicest I can make” She gives me a scary look of disapproval and anger.
“Hey I didn’t wanted to be harsh or something… I’m just trying to telling you guys about the movies you all are from. I don’t know how you made it to my universe but you are all not real in this one…”
“Its your fault we're all here in the first place, so it’s best if you don’t go around with a mouth that likes to spill every detail about us that you possibly can, hmm?” Wednesday gave me a threatening look, daring me to break eye contact first.
I felt a bit hurt and said quite
“Sorry… but I really don’t how all of you came here” I looked around “You all just appeared suddenly” I said softly.
“it’s time for you to make us all disappear” Wednesday looked at me with cold, empty, soulless eyes.
“I don’t know how” exhausted I looked in the eyes of all of them.
“Look guys, let’s not make things too hard on her. She didn't even do anything, all of us just suddenly appeared and its not her fault! “ said Tara and stands up for me. I felt so relived when Tara stand up for me, making me fall for her even harder. Okay focus y/n Jenna is your girlfriend. But yeah… I also love all characters she plays… nevermind.
“I must say, you are very pretty y/n...” said randomly Mabel with a smile.
“Th-thank you” I said blushing hard and looked down.
Vadas eyes fell on me “Yeah, Tara’s right though. She didn’t have anything to do with why we’re here, did she?” Glances at Wednesday and Cairo, looking suspicious.
Cairo Shrugs “I’ve been trying to find out but so far I haven’t got a clue...” Her eyes narrow as she looks at her surroundings “We need to figure this out as soon as possible...”
„Well as soon as possible isn’t quick enough for me, I’m not going to sit around here forever just to wait this all out“ Wednesday added.
„You guys can do what ever you want.
I don’t know how all of you became real. Just know that in this universe none of you is supposed to be real“ I said and sat down on the couch exhausted
Wednesday Shrugs „Well we didn't do it on purpose. It's just something crazy I guess...
What if we never make our way back...“ She looks at everyone with a cold, intimidating stare. It’s clear she’s trying to hold her anger in check for the moment.
„Come on, don't even talk like that Wednesday... we'll find our way back, one way or another...“ Tara said.
„Yeah right? We're not stuck here with her forever!“ Cairo shudders at the thought.
„Ouch?“ I said not sure if I should feel offended.
„You should feel offended. We are going to find a way out of here and when we do, I am making sure I stay the hell away from you“ She glares at me again.
I gave Cairo a thumbs up and looked at Tara speechless saying
„I can’t believe I actually had a crush when I watched her movie back then“
Vada shrugged „Well I'm glad you changed your mind“
„Why? What kind of crush did you have on me?“ asked Cairo, not letting her anger die down yet.
„None“ I said trying to end the conversation. „Come on, you can tell me. Please?“ She leans forward with puppy eyes, but they look a little bit sinister.
„Just for the record since my girlfriend plays all your characters I do have a thing for all of you for sure“
„What do you mean your girlfriend plays all of us?“ Wednesday gives me a suspicious look, leaning in closer and giving a scary look again. „My girlfriend. The actress. Who portrays all your characters in this universe“
Mabel stares at me for a while. Her eyes narrow even more than before* What's her name?”
“I don’t buy it” Wednesday scoffed
“What's that supposed to mean, Wednesday?” I asked
“That was an act, you’re not just now realizing that y/n’s girlfriend is the one who plays all of us. I think she’s trying to hide something”
“I’m telling the truth you can google it” I said louder
Wednesday Takes me by the collar and glares at me with a cold, intimidating look “Okay then, Y/N. I want the truth and I want to know now. What’s your play here?”
Some part of me felt scared and turned on. It took me some time to answer. “I swear nothing. I was just enjoying my day off and suddenly all of you were here”
“And nothing at all happened before that?” Wednesdays voice was getting more and more sinister as each second passed.
“A storm came up. Thunder… lightning” I explained. “Hm... a storm...” She let go of my collar and turned her back on me. She began pacing around the room silently.
“Maybe it has to do with the storm then? Some Paradoxon?” I said
Wednesday looked st me “Is that really all you know? You have no other secrets you’re holding back?”
“Nothing. I’m the most boring person right here” I said quite
“Boring?” She looked back at me and smirked, and turned back around again “If you think your life isn’t interesting, then you’d better make your peace with this life being all you’ll ever be. You have no purpose here. You have nothing to contribute to this world” She stopped her pacing and turned back around again “This is it for you. This is all your life is worth” She let me take that in for a while before speaking again “So do not call yourself boring ever again. You hear me?”
I nodded feeling touched.
“Good” She sat down next to me, and put her hand on my shoulder. After a while of silence, she finally broke the tension “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn’t have done that” She looked down at her feet, ashamed.
“Thank you… i really appreciate your apology” I whispered feeling better now.
“Okay since we all don’t know why you’re here and I’m tired of explaining and arguing… Wanne watch a movie together?”
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mywritingonlyfans · 4 months ago
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Church Crush. // Fetus!Alex Turner X Reader. (SMUT)
prompt: Psalm 119:131: I open my mouth and pant, longing for your commands. / Where you notice how he looks at you and behaves in your presence, during church sessions and you decide to bring his dreams to life (in the church parking lot too). He's a sub! Here.
words: 3,7K
session/setting: I'm following a prompt based on parts of the Bible (blasphemy), and I'm using this post: link, if you're interested you can choose one and suggest an idea! (Maybe we have about him as a priest)
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Your eyes landed on his figure, sitting a few chairs behind you. His hair fell softly over his forehead, and if you weren’t so observant, you might not have noticed the heart-shaped outline of his hairline. But you had, thanks to all those classes together. He was illuminated by the light from the main room, his eyes a lazy, lovely caramel. So solemn, and you liked to imagine that sometimes they were watching you too. You fiddled with your cuticles impatiently, noting his nails, perfectly trimmed down to the quick, as he rubbed his well-shaped, sculpted nose, picking at his slightly flushed skin. You couldn’t help but picture them in other scenarios; adding meaning to such generous fingers. Without realizing it, he was mesmerized by the slight smirk on your face, only to quickly turn away to avoid the intensity of your gaze. That feeling was new. He couldn’t tell if you liked how his body reacted to you or if it made you uncomfortable, exchanging glances like that in such a place. After all, shouldn’t he be paying attention to the church’s service?
“We’re done for today, ladies and gentlemen,” the voice of the finely dressed man filled the room, snapping you out of your thoughts. You hadn’t heard a word he’d said since you arrived, you were busy. And thanks to Turner, every one of your Sundays had become like this—a vain attempt to surrender your body and soul to something that was supposed to be sacred. Still, there was a purifying aura about the way Turner’s curious gaze rested on you. Not that you thought he saw you as someone pristine, but because, clearly, he saw you. He saw you as someone worthy of that affection. Turner had become the reason you kept coming back. You counted the days for moments like this. The distinctive, colorful marble of that sanctuary wouldn’t be the same without him. You wouldn’t even think of returning otherwise.
He tried to ignore you, avoiding glances or any chance of crossing paths. He gathered up his backpack, frantically organizing himself to leave as quickly as possible. Yes, he was awkward—in a genuine, innocent way. Maybe he was still new to this, inexperienced, and clearly flustered. But based on how he acted in class, those assumptions seemed accurate. He briefly adjusted his hair, clearly uncomfortable in his too-small blue polo shirt that clung to his sweet fragile frame. His eyes were on you, even though his body language denied it. You smiled at him, boldly, leaving him even more flushed and disoriented.
When he opened his car door, he threw himself onto the seat, letting the backpack strap catch awkwardly, making him look like a ‘ninja turtle’ as his body contorted. He sat down; he was a mess. He reopened the door, discreetly, making sure he looked ridiculous in your eyes. Given the circumstances, he wondered if he should think of you as someone he'd marry someday, but that wouldn’t be fair to himself, not with how he idealized you every single time he saw or thought of you. His mind was far from pure, though he wished you well and admired your independence. However, his ideals about you weren’t exactly built on divine foundations.
Trying to recompose himself, he grabbed the steering wheel, resting his forehead against it. His breath caught in his lungs, knowing just how wrong he was for feeling this way and that he would be punished for it. Still, he pressed his thighs together, body and soul present, though not for any greater good—except, perhaps, for the thought that you might be his ‘greater good’ if you wanted to be. He was getting tight in his pants, just from seeing you. His throat burned from the effort of trying to forget it all—forget his obsession with you, even though he made it all too easy to dwell on it.
Yet, he couldn’t let go. His mind was stubborn. He wanted to see you, to feel your eyes on him, to hear what your voice sounded like, no matter how wrong it felt. It was inevitable that he would spend all week waiting for Sunday, just so he could see you again—admiring the way you dismissed people who criticized your looks or how relaxed you seemed, unconcerned with the judgment of others. And, of course, how you smiled at him after catching him looking at you.
Alex did his best to avoid you in the halls during the week. You still had the same confident essence and leather jacket, but he didn’t want to disrupt your popularity or how adored you were with his primitive presence. It was such a small town.
“Hey, youuu!” A deep, feminine voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Startled, he first thought the sound had come from outside, but when the door slammed and his eyes confirmed a familiar figure inside, right next to him, his entire body froze.
“You can’t be ‘ere,” he stammered in a pathetic whisper, earning a mischievous smile from your lips. His accent was stronger than ever, hurting his throat. It felt wrong, yet like a dream.
Up close, you wore a crucifix around your neck, dangling like a hypnotic watch, and your hair cascaded perfectly over your shoulders. Your eyes gleamed and stayed locked on him, leaving him unsure of where to look. You were invading his space. His hands, damp with sweat, shot down to his jeans in a nervous attempt to seem more composed in your eyes.
As usual, you seemed indifferent to the situation, as if this was entirely normal and you’d known each other for years. Your long fingers smoothed his dark hair behind his ear, drifting down to adjust his collar so his collarbones could be more pronounced, more visible to your praises. Your eye makeup was strikingly out of place for the setting—perhaps that was one of the small details that had captivated him since the moment he first saw you. The sharp, dark line framing your perfectly defined gaze made you all the more mesmerizing. A few droplets of sweat from the heat of the day clung to your cheekbones, and he silently cursed himself for wanting to lick them away; being responsible for keeping you clean. In a way, he wanted to let a single tear escape in front of you, not knowing whether that was a good or bad thing.
“Are you listenin' to me, Bambi eyes?” Your hand now rested on your thigh, your skirt clinging tighter and riding up slightly as you leaned forward in front of him. The crucifix floating, as well as your collarbone and breast in the tank top beneath the leather. He was dreaming—his mind had been in this exact place before.
“Alex,” he managed to say, he couldn't tell if his heart was beating. A small, plausible chance to let you know his name. He couldn't miss that.
You laughed, an amused, sweet sound that felt like a spell cast over him. “I know you, Bambi,” your hand slid up towards his leg, climbing up his thigh as your smile widened at how excited he was so early, pausing over the stiffness of his belt. He thought you were cute, he was getting so sure of that. His cheeks were flushed, his stomach restless above your touch, he was a good boy; definitely not as pure as the seconds passed with you.
“You do?” His voice came out choked, the words stuck as he tried to catch his breath. You were inside his head, crushing him into pieces, and he was utterly lost in you.
You nodded, reaching up and squeezing a part of his lower belly that had never been touched by anyone else before. He was warm and silently prayed that you would have him. On a choked sigh, in an involuntary act, he spread his legs as you got your fingertips over the prominent part of his jeans, making you play gladly with the buckle of his belt. “I do, or do you think I don’t see you looking at me? Giving me those poor Bambi eyes as you study me from top to bottom, rubbing your soft legs together in an attempt to clear your impure thoughts.” Your gentle touch reached his skin, soft and reassuring. You unbuckled the belt with a satisfying click, slowly sliding it around his waist, each breath he exhaled filled with relief as you granted him the sense of freedom. “I know everything about you, Turner” you said, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “I’ve done my research.”
“Did you look me up?” he asked softly, even though he knew it wouldn’t be difficult to learn anything about him, given that the town was as small as a speck. His mouth went dry, feeling your nails grazing the damp fabric clinging to the swollen skin on his white underpants.
He knew he was blushing, embarrassed by it (by himself), but you were happy, your lip between your teeth with an inviting look, revealing him hard and accumulated at the tip. You clicked your tongue, looking into his dark eyes, and already knowing the answer, you didn't hesitate to run your hand over his length, feeling him generously as his head went back in a sigh.
The doors were open, he could leave, the most exciting thing about it was that he didn't care about being corrupted by your actions.
As a quiet hum was being taken from him, you pressed your fingers harder into the spot. “So do you like my touch, Turner?” You ran your fingertips gently, running them through all his hardness, so tenderly. “Your so wet, babe. Did you get like this when you were in there thinkin’ ‘bout me while failing to pay attention on the world ‘round you?” Your hands cupped his flesh, making him dodge while closing his eyes. “When should you be listening to the Lord's words? Huh?”
Even if it was slow, even if you lingered, Alex didn’t mind. He wanted it to last as long as possible, as long as you were there with him.
“I’m sorry,” he grumbled, not knowing where to put his hands or how to act in front of you. He hated the fact that he was so quiet, making you think he wasn't enjoying it; even though his body wasn't capable of lying. “I just — I just don’t know what to do,”
“I know you don’t, babe. I know you don’t. Never ever been touched for someone else, right? Sounds like a good boy for me, a fuckin’ perfect boy for you parents, a english class winner, a saint in the eyes of the neighborhood, and a devotee of our little sanctuary. What’d they say if they saw you now? About to get lost in whimpers for me in a church parking lot, huh? Bein’ mine instead,” your sinful words brought shivers down his spine. And as he could imagine, you had done your homework. You had already noticed him beyond the church. Your compliment with words, taking away all his speech, made him open his eyes briefly, sulking his hips in your hand. You did that for him, and without knowing how to explain it, Alex found you angelic; a pure angel in disguise. “Tell me, Turner?” You kept moving, not increasing the pace, assigning to the ache between his legs (in your cares); yet firm enough as he needed. “How can you be good? Fantasizin’ ‘bout me like that? Or when you walk past me bumping into my shoulders on purpose so I can notice you devouring me with your eyes when I come close to you every Sunday, babe? You’re not a good boy at all, see? You only came ‘ere for me.” You had an indescribable effect on Alex. You were right, he had never felt this way with anyone before, you were the first and for him you would be the only one to take him out of that bubble of chastity.
How could it be fair that you talked to him like that? How was it possible that his conscience understood that as wrong but still his body was begging to be taken by you?
He thrust his hip pathetically into your palm, “I need more,” he said in a whimpering mess, just like you described. “Please, I’ll be good, just tell me what to do,” He rested his palm on your wrist, not disturbing your work, just rubbing loving circles in longing.
“I don’t want you to do a thing, pumpkin,” For never having done it that way, it was clear how sensitive he was. Your hand ached, but you continued, intoxicated by the pained expression on his face as you were guided by every sound and drop sliding down his forehead. He was beautiful. His mouth fell open in a silent sob, making his attempt to speak your name come out in clipped syllables. You were being good for him, he wanted to learn how to do the same for you.
As he had never been to that place, he was surprised to feel no pain but pleading relief enveloping his body as your fingers slithered easily into his excessive juices. His stomach was feeling funny. But he was ethereal, he felt like he was in a good place, or getting there as he had heard the well-dressed man say minutes ago. “I just wanna make you feel good, hear your beautiful sinful sounds just for me.”
As he dipped his head on the seat, you bit on your lips, hard enough to feel the metallic taste mix with your saliva. You were the reason for his erotic dreams since he had first seen you, so that was such a daydream for him as well as for you. Your hands, controlled, came out of his swollen length to the tip, and then closed around him tightly, giving you the advantage of seeing his face twitch with pleasure knowing that only you had provided this to him. Keeping the same pace–so he could spend more time in supplication, giving you a privileged view that you would save in your brain to watch every night before bed–you began to massage his angry and read tip with your thumb, feeling his body heating up as his hip go to meet with your fist, fucking himself into you.
He had realized that he was hasty alone, and that it was difficult to hold himself back with you. He would wet the fabric of his underwear more easily, which gave your delicate hand better performance. He wouldn't know how to use your dexterity, he would need you to keep from getting hurt.
“Please,” you breathed.
“Please what, Turner?”
"I need it, I need you, I need to be good for you, just want to—" He was cut off as you pulled away from him, sitting up. With tense fingers, sore from burning holes in the seat, he tried to hold back, not wanting to sound too loud.
“You’re being good to me babe. You were fuckin’ my hand so well, fuckin’ dripping on me, I’m just gonna need to hear you, pumpkin. C’mon, don’t hold back, we‘re far from everyone you can show me how naughty you are, right? Be loud for me,” you said, your raspy voice made him dizzy as you took off his shirt in a quick, clumsy act. He didn't even try to process the lack, he was completely intoxicated by you.
You lost control of your words, your fingers tracing along his waist as you placed them on his chest. He smiled softly, his lips moist and curved to the side, as usual. You liked his body, smooth and delicately sculpted; you enjoyed how wrong it felt yet couldn’t help but be guided by it. You caressed his collarbone, memorizing every groove along the way. Leaning closer to his seat, feeling his eyes on you, you kissed him. It was subtle, in contrast to everything that had come before, warm yet tender. He tasted the metallic taste, needing more. He took a moment to respond, but as he became more aware, he yielded and entwined his tongue with yours. Sweet and messy, just as you had expected, you laughed, making him blush even more.
A thin line of saliva formed as you pulled away, and he wondered if it made you wet, since he felt painfully stiff with everything you did. All he could do was stare, as if you were going to run away and be nothing more than a dream.
Without another word, you made yourself comfortable in the seat. He could see your thighs better. He took a deep sigh, letting a groan escape as your breath grew heavy with your warmth lingering on him. As soon as you moved your hair away from your face, Alex understood and held it back to give you better access and provide himself with a clearer view.
Your pink painted lips wrapped around his swollen head, sucking just a little until you lifted your head to the tip only to fail to take him completely all at once. You laughed, excited by that, and sighed with a drool running down the edges of your lips, "You're such a good size." And you could gaze at his red skin.
Understandable, yet painfully throbbing, he ran his fingers over your ear, examining the metallic earrings and caressing your velvety cheek. You were beautiful. Alex loved watching you pay attention in class, but he never thought he would be able to witness this. Your swollen lips were connected to him, your wet tongue making him squirm, and you were skilled at it. Your hand was firm at the base of him, where you couldn't reach without having your eyes water and your throat hurt, even though you let yourself do it on purpose, to please him and feel a little pain for being so unruly. But mostly, you focused on sucking him in comfort, closing your eyes, loving the taste and texture, until you could move your face up until you no longer had him in your mouth just so you could do it all over again.
He stroked your hair so gently, you couldn't stop even if you wanted to. "You're so beautiful." He whispered between full-bodied moans. It was deafening, it made you give even more of yourself to have his taste in your mouth. And little by little, his legs began to tremble and his hands pulled your locks hard enough to have them loose between his fingers, but it felt so good. He groaned your name, as if in a will, relieving himself in your throat with more whimpers. It was so adorable. He was weak, such a mess.
His sweet caramel eyes watched you tiredly as you swallowed the hot liquid. It dripped down your chin a little and his stomach had stained with it too, but you didn't hesitate to wipe it away with your tongue and sweet kisses. His breathing was weak, he didn't know what to say, but thank goodness he could look at you. You gave more wet kisses to his sensitive skin, ignoring his fingers trying to push you away. And from the view Alex had through the blurry windows, he could still see some people leaving the church; you had certainly been there too long. You sucked on his spot again, licking where a bit more juice was coming out and he could see your angelic gaze at him, as if you transferred all your sins to him and he was no longer pure. He wiped the tears from your face, knowing he had them too, and drove your head up, feeling too sensitive to take it anymore.
His muscles were relaxed, though tension started to build in his head. He fumbled with his own belt and the shirt bunched up around his waist, awkwardly trying to hide his softened body. You laughed, and he understood that it wasn’t because of his clumsiness, but because you simply enjoyed seeing him like that—flushed, unsure of his next move. "Thank you," he said. Your eyebrows raised. This time, you both laughed together. You stripped him of all his social skills.
Your fingers whitened as they gripped the hem of your skirt, your eyes never leaving him, yet they roamed across his entire frame. Alex felt guilty, embarrassed. "Did that make you wet?" The question sounded like real doubt amid his weak intonation.
"Don’t you think you’re good, Al?" You let out a soft sigh, relaxing into the seat as you leaned toward him, your lips brushing his cheek. Hearing you call him that made him wonder if you’d speak to him like this when you saw him in class or around his friends. He wanted you to. As usual, he couldn’t speak. His mouth opened, but no sound came out, and he simply waited for your commands and approval.
Your forehead rested against his, your attention solely on him, your breaths mingling in quiet comfort. He signed the notice, captivated by your delicate fingers brushing against the skin of his arm, taking his hands in your and guiding them beneath your skirt. His calloused tips touched the thin fabric of your panties, surprised, heart racing at how damp you were. You pulled the elastic away, lightly touching your spot as you contemplated the act. Alex had never heard anything so beautiful. Looking for more of the sound, he repeated what he saw, your head falling back onto the seat, looking at him pleadingly and tiredly, and he imagined that you had been like that since the beginning too (even though it could be a lie and he just wanted to feed his own ego). He pressed harder, not sure how to continue, and proposed to kneel in front of you, no matter how drastic that might be. He needed all of it, every drop. But your warm voice interrupted him before, "Turner, you need to park somewhere else, I don't want to be interrupted.” You had certainly been there for a long time, no one but you needed to know how you were poisoning each other in such a place.
...
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