#it’s still angsty but in a fun way? I guess
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thatgirlwithasquid · 3 days ago
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ooo okay this looks fun (and i am procrastinating like a bitch rn so...)
Hm, I'm not sure. Maybe The Naming of Hobbits by @andhumanslovedstories? It was one of the first fics I read when I got into using AO3 and I remember it giving me a good giggle. I really should go back and reread it. It must've been years since I've read it by now... And yet I still think of it fondly as 'that funny The Hobbit fic' so it clearly left a very good impression :)
So many. So many make me cry. I've reread Time Falls Away by @not-close-to-straight like three times I think? And each time the line 'I don't know this part of the story' has me UGLY SOBBING. Love it. Absolutely an amazing read. I still haven't worked my way up to the third fic in the series cause the emotions are still too strong rn, but I am very excited for whenever I finally do! I also gotta mention All Is Fair In Love by @stranger-awakening cause OH MY GOD nothing has ever hurt me like this fic hurt me. The pain. It just kept getting worse. It was so good but I needed frequent breaks when reading cause the emotions were So Much. I'm also just realising I never kudosed that fic and OMG I AM SO SORRY. I was too caught up in the throes of agony, I apologise!!
My comfort fic is definitely Petey and Wade discuss the proper way to go about vigilantism (and maybe they fall in love too) by @isadancurtisproduction. I have read that fic at least once a year since I first came across it. I love it so much, it's insane. It may even be my all time favourite fanfic
I am gonna have to say Rapture by mia_ugly on AO3. I read it out of morbid curiosity and I have not been the same since. This is the fic that introduced me to this type of time travel fics, where the time travel muddies the relationships and makes everything angsty and confusing and secretive. It is my FAVOURITE kind of angst and I have read multiple other fics with the same trope since. I adore them <3
Oh, 100% @sheena-is-a-punk-rocker. Since I read all your quinnflag fics and loved them so much I started on my own quinnflag wip. Started off thinking 'how would they have gotten together before The Suicide Squad?' like they are in your The Suicide Squad but Rick and Harley are already dating series (which is such a fun read and deserves all the love!!) and my wip has become its own thing from there :)
Lol I'm not the best authority for this since I do not read much fic for either of my main fandoms (sorry Stranger Things and The World of Mr Plant!) but I definitely think @kittyphoenix12-xx's work deserves so much more love. I need to read more of your fics, babes, cause the ones I have read are SO good. I TREASURE that cunningway fic you gifted to me, and getting to beta a couple of your works was such an honour. I especially loved the stars look down and know, cause it's so so sweet!!!
Good question... Commenting, I guess. That's the obvious answer. And I really need to work on it myself (and I'm trying!!) but we could always do with more commenting. Authors love seeing it so we need to do our part more (which is why I'm tagging the authors in this despite being a bit nervous about that lol, cause you guys deserve hearing how wonderful I think your fics are :) )
I really don't know. I don't like telling people not to do things cause I think that's just rude. Fanfic is for fun, and if you like doing something that someone else thinks there's too much of then fuck them! Have fun with it cause that's all that matters. I see people complaining about certain things from time to time and just think 'well... you could just... not?' Maybe that's what I wish there was less of in fandom: people feeling the need to make a fuss when they don't like something, cause most of the time when I see it it's over the most non-problem things.
Alternative Fic Recs
Fic recs are a great way to introduce people to stories you love. But instead of a list, you could try this format instead? I've tried it before and I really liked it, as it made me think about the fics I've read differently.
This isn't a tag game or an ask game. You can copy, repost, reblog, share and edit this at will if you're looking to do a fic rec :)
The fic that's made you laugh the most?
What's a fic that makes you cry?
Your fave comfort, silly fic?
The fic that made you try a genre or a trope you wouldn't normally read.
An author that's inspired your own fic writing (if you're an author), or your TBR list (if you're a reader).
Your fave "underdog" fics/authors in your fandom(s). Those that you feel are underappreciated and deserve some love.
What's one thing you wish writers/readers/the fandom did more of when it comes to fanfiction?
What's one thing you wish writers/readers/the fandom did less of when it comes to fanfiction?
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loganslowdown4 · 1 year ago
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I wrote this a long time ago
After WTIT (can you believe it’s been over 2 yrs already?)😳
Anyway, you know how my brain doesn’t stop?
I think I was in spiral mode back then lol (it’s a bit angsty)
(And this is like worst case, I don’t think it will go down this way anymore) Enjoy!🤪
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lomltrentarnold · 5 months ago
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someone — jude bellingham  ₊˚ෆ
contents: 1.6k words, fem!reader (she/her), fwb!bellingham is down bad, lil angsty but happy ending, they like each other so much SIGH
🍓 hana’s note: hi my loves!! hope u enjoy <33 i actually had fun writing this, please tell me what u think 🫶 sorry if nothing makes sense LOL
📞 main masterlist!
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Jude was sure that the muscle on his wrist had gotten stronger in the span of three days. He moved to check his phone again for the hundredth time that day. The whole situation feels like a thirteen year old boy waiting for his girlfriend to reply to his text. 
The only difference is that he’s twenty one years old, and his ‘girlfriend’ is not actually his girlfriend. 
His gloomy mood attracted his assistant who was off clicking the keyboard computer.
“Whose text are you waiting for?” they asked, immediately bringing him out of his little pity party.
His heart stuttered, “No one.” he replies, shaking his head, before tucking the phone away into his pocket.
A skeptical look was thrown, “Yeah, sure.” 
Jude took a minute before he relented, “She’s…someone.” he sighed, not really in the mood to throw up his gut to his assistant.
He ran his hands through his hair down to his face, frustrated.
They were sure this ‘someone’ was not just anyone, “The same ‘someone’ who had you giggling and kicking your feet last week?” his assistant smirked, noticing the little smile that Jude always wears every single time he stares at his phone.
But not in the last few days.
Recently, he has been more sad when he stares at his phone.
Heat trailed from the back of his neck to his cheeks, “I was not giggling and kicking my feet.” tummy twisting with nerves.
“Oh, you so were. She has you wrapped around her fingers, Bellingham.” the keyboard clicking stopped, as a teasing smirk was sent his way.
Jude’s heart made a backflip–oh she definitely does– “She’s just.. special. And I really really like her.” his cheeks heating up more as your pretty face fresh flashes in his mind. 
“So? Why don't you ask her out on a date?”
He sighed, “I would, but she’s ghosting me.”
“Someone ghosted THE Jude Bellingham? Damn, your ego must be hurt.” they laughed.
Jude took a deep breath, “It's not about my ego, I just–” he paused, “I thought we were going somewhere, I like her and I thought that she liked me but I guess...” his voice trailing out as sadness coats his words.
His assistant noticed how Jude’s head dropped in disappointment, immediately feeling bad for him, and an idea lightbulb immediately went off, “Go to her place then.”
“What?”
The assistant shrugged their shoulders, “Go to her place. Ask her out.”
He coughed out, “She doesn’t wanna see me.”
“Ask her face to face, get confirmation. If she really doesn’t wanna see you then, fine. But try at least! Fight for her!” their encouragement send Jude into a full dedicated state. Already having a full plan in his head.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Screen lights from the tv illuminated your already dark room with a movie playing in the background. You really should be asleep right now. But your mind was too cloudy with a certain, seriously attractive, very sweet and nice footballer. 
What did you think was gonna happen?
Getting into a friends-with-benefits with someone you harboured a big fat crush on was not the brightest idea. 
Jude is a bigshot footballer, everyones’ starboy, all he needs to do is smile and all girls fall to his feet (including you). The strategy of pushing him away was pretty solid, considering that he might not even notice that you haven’t been replying to his texts. 
He probably has hundreds of girls on his phone anyways.
Not that you care, he can do whatever he wants, he’s not your boyfriend. 
Not your boyfriend. 
Then why does it still bother you?
A sudden knock, broke you out of your spiralling session, shooting your heart rate up. Who knocks at 2 in the morning?
A buzz from your phone alerted you.
bellingham :)
I’m outside your apartment
I need to talk to you
You contemplated opening the door, what do you even say to him? Another knock. 
Another buzz.
bellingham :)
Please.
The door swung open and Jude was met with the sight of you, with tired eyes and a scowl on your face. You don't look too happy seeing him, and he doesn't blame you.
“Are you insane?! What do you want, Jude? It’s two in the morning!” you huffed out, taking his wrist and pulling him inside. You do not want to get a complaint from your old cranky neighbours. 
Both of your hands tingle the second it touches, fingers twitching as you hope the other doesn't notice. You move to pause the movie, hands gravitating towards the blanket on your couch before draping it around your shoulders. Trying to cover up your well-loved worn pyjamas.
You look like a mess. 
Jude’s hand sweats in his pockets, his heart was pounding after finally being in your presence. With your messy hair, pretty droopy eyes, paired with your profile being highlighted by the tv. His heart rate shoots up when your eyes meet his. 
You look really pretty.
Focus, Bellingham!
He awkwardly coughs, trying to cut the thick tension in the room, “You still watching that show?” he voiced out, hand gesturing to the tv behind you. 
It was a show recommendation from him. You had made fun of it at first, but then the plot was too good to be ignored, you needed to know how it ends. 
You shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah, I was curious.” voice small as your hands tightened around the blanket, bringing comfort to you.
A beat of awkward silence went on.
And Jude has had enough of it and decided to go for it, head first, no thoughts.
"Why are you ignoring me?" he finally said, saddened brown eyes met yours. You can feel your defence chip away the more you look at him.
You avert your eyes immediately, trying to formulate words, "I'm busy."
"That you ghosted me for three days straight?" he scoffed.
"Jude-"
"I don't think you understand how much you’re in my head." his voice shook, heart trembling in his chest, “I wake up and my first thought is to check if you have texted me back and you know how embarrassing it is to not see anything?"
You scoffed, “So this is about your ego?”
“No! I didn’t say that–“
Another scoff, "Jude don’t lie, you get messages every single day. Your notifications are always flooded! Don’t act like I’m suddenly special!” you rolled your eyes, lungs burning with anger.
His face contorted into confusion before turning into hurt, “Did I give you that impression? That I don't care because you’re not special?” Jude’s voice cracked, maybe it was your head playing tricks but you swore his eyes were glossy with tears. 
Anymore second looking at him than you might just break. 
“Jude-” you started.
“Because I do! I’ll buy you more flowers, pick up your favourite coffee, watch those reality shows that you love so much, we can have a picnic or even a fancy dinner!” he rambled, hands animated as his feet started to move towards you, eyes pleading. “I really want this to work. I want to be in your life, as your boyfriend.” 
The distance between two got so small that you can feel his warm breath hitting your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.
He smells like mint.
Did he chew one before he got here?
The call of your name hits your ears, his voice soft and sweet. You really like how he says your name. You miss it. You like him. You miss him.
“Please say something.” Jude whispered, eyes involuntarily dropping to your lips, cheeks warming under his gaze.
“I really really like you.” you softly said, nothing but a whisper but it sends just into cloud nine.
His eyes shined, mouth already opening to say something before you cut him off.
“But-“
His heart dropped.
“But?”
“Jude, you can literally have anyone you want in the world!” you raised your voice. Tears pricking at the edge of your eyes. Why does he have to be so complicated? Why won’t he understand that you will never be enough for him?
By now, he can have a general sense on why you ghosted him. You have been insecure and worried ever since this little relationship started. Jude partly understands it, his popularity is intense and the media is poking at every nook and cranny of his life. Judging at the littlest things he does.
But he also doesn’t understand because-
“But, I want you! Don’t want anyone else!” he exclaimed, big calloused hands move to the sides of your face, thumb softly running on your cheeks. “I want you.” he added, softly pressing a kiss at the apple of both of your cheeks.
A lovesick smile broke out on your face before you can even control yourself. “I want you too.”
Jude eyes twinkled at the sight. His heart elevates in the process. Was this a dream?
“Pinch me.” he snickered.
Your hands move around his waist to pinch his skin, “Dork.” you giggled, his smile getting wider at the sound.
A comforting silence blankets over you both. Smitten eyes staring at each other with heavy yearning. Hearts fully enamoured with the other.
A soft kiss was planted on your lips, tender and gentle as his hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He can’t get enough of you.
Your whole body was on fire. It has been so long since you both got together.
“Jude-“
“Mhm.” he hummed, lips still pressing against yours. His hands wander to wrap around your waist. It feels like he wants to eat you whole.
He definitely does.
You carefully pull away, chuckling at the small whine that leaves him as he chases you again, “It’s late.” you affectionately scolded.
“Let’s go to sleep then.”
“Together?” you teased.
“Yes, please.”
Well, how can you say no to that?
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reblog for a kiss <3
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lilacs-stars · 5 months ago
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aiming for your heart
this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is glinda the good witch's daughter) SUMMARY: you agree to a tutoring session with your pirate classmate, but things end up taking an...unexpected twist. GENRE: pure fluff, a bit of banter CW: nothing much, just mentions of societal pressures WC: 7.9k (they just keep getting longer...)
A/N: I decided to finally do something cute and fluffy after days of working on dark angsty stuff and this felt like a much-needed breath of fresh air. it was so fun to write, so thanks to the anon who requested this for the fun idea! <3 please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd love to know your thoughts!
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Up, swish, circle, flick. Up, swish, circle, flick. Up, swish, cir—
“Ahh, oww!” you cry out as a very solid metal object collides with the side of your skull. Your hand instinctively goes up to the spot on your head—which you can already feel starting to swell—as you wince in pain. 
You’re supposed to throw the ring in the basket, not at my head, idiot, you think to yourself as you grimace. 
“Oh my gosh, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you, I swear!” you glance around the room, locking eyes with your classmate just a few tables away, whose wand is still poised in their hand and a bewildered expression planted on their face. “I just can’t seem to control…this gosh darn wand…”
You let out a little sigh, trying your best to not be impatient. After all, you couldn’t expect everyone to be as experienced in this field as you are. 
You glance back at the student, who’s rereading their textbook pages for what’s probably the tenth time. As you watch them struggle, a pang of guilt hits you for being so mean and irritable. It’s not like they were trying to hit you, and even though it was just a thought passing through in the privacy of your mind, you still feel as though thinking something mean like that is wrong. 
You push your chair back and rise from your seat, wand tightly gripped in one hand. Walking over to your classmate’s desk, you give a small smile as you ask them, “Need any help?”
They look up at you with wide eyes. “Oh, yes, please! Enchantment of Magical Objects is literally the hardest class ever!”
You grin again, keeping your demeanor light and friendly, like always. “Okay, so first, you go up, then swish, then circle your wand back around, and finally flick, and then…”
You copy the movements with your own wand as you speak, small magical sparks flickering off it at your gestures. After you complete your little demonstration, you both watch as a hand-sized sleek metal ring, somewhat resembling a circular horseshoe, levitates off the desk and neatly lands in a bucket in the center of the room. 
Today’s assignment in your Enchantment class is to use the Aiming Spell to throw the rings into a bucket. Safe to say, it wasn’t really going well for most of the class. 
“Wow, that was amazing! You’re so good at this Y/N!” your now starry-eyed classmate exclaims. “And I can barely get my rings off my desk…”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get there,” you smile reassuringly. “After all, I’ve had a lot of experience around wands and enchantments.”
“Yeah, I suppose that is right. I guess not everyone can be as talented with magic as the Good Witch’s very own daughter.”
A small laugh escapes your lips, and you bid farewell to your classmate as you make your way back to your seat. They aren’t wrong, after all. Your mother, Glinda, taught you how to use a wand as soon as you could walk. You’ve been watching her use magic for ages, so it’s not a surprise to anyone that you’re top of your class. 
You sit back down, getting back to work. Even though you know you’ve already mastered the spell, you still have some class time left, which you decide to use wisely and continue practicing the spell. 
Staring at the pile of metal rings in front of you, you take a deep breath and begin the task of making each one levitate off your desk and make a perfect arch towards the basket. 
Up, swish, circle, flick. Up—swoosh!
A flying ring shoots straight past your face, barely missing you by only a few inches. You stumble backwards in your chair, quite startled. Still, it isn’t unusual to see objects flying around the classroom, or rather, objects flying where they’re not supposed to.
A moment later, another one whizzes past you again. Then a third, which gets so close to your face that you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Annoyed, your head snaps to your right, trying to figure out who keeps nearly decapitating you. 
You glance around, finally locking eyes with what seems to be the culprit. Chair leaning against the wall, tipped back on its hind two legs, sits a figure with deep brown eyes and smokey eyeshadow look to match. A smirk is planted on his face, a mischievous glint in his gaze. He wears a dark red jacket on top of a black dress shirt, the collar disheveled and his tie loose around his neck. Contrary to his tousled outfit, his medium-length brown hair is neatly slicked back. One of his hands leisurely holds a wand while the other rests behind his head, and combined with the way he has a leg crossed over the other, one would think he’s enjoying a nice day at the beach instead of sitting in class at one of the most prestigious academies in the land.
You fix him with a look, your gaze subconsciously morphing into a glare as he jerks the wand up, causing one of the metal rings in front of him to levitate a few inches off his desk. With a flick of the wrist, he sends it flying across the room once again. Having learned your lesson, this time you duck down, eyes following the disk as it soars across the room. You watch as it shoots straight towards its target, who expertly crouches as the metal ring hits the wall behind him with a thud, falling to the ground and joining the previous disks.
The target of these attacks is a boy you recognize to be a good friend of the ring-throwing troublemaker, with light brown hair brushed away from his forehead and dressed in a dark green shirt with a black choker around his neck. Morgie le Fay shoots a glare across the room to his perpetrator, making a face that could only mean “You’ll pay for this later.”
Another disk comes shooting at his head, and he ducks down yet again. This time, the metal hits the wall so hard, you worry it left a dent. Unable to take their child-like behavior any longer, you get up from your seat for the second time and stomp your way over to the disk-thrower.
“Hook!” you say as you reach his table. The man in question tilts his head towards you, looking up with an amused grin.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, lassie?” he replies, his accent crisp and unmistakable. 
You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, knowing it would be terribly rude, even if he was getting on your nerves like no other. You settle for fixing him with another look. “Could you please stop hurling those disks around? It’s not the assignment, and you practically hit me!”
“My apologies, love,” Hook replies, still peering up at you, unbothered. You honestly doubt he means it, so you frown and try again. “I’m being serious, Hook.”
“As am I,” he replies, making you want to smack that stupid smirk off his face. Deep breaths, deep breaths, you remind yourself. Violence is never the answer. You find it funny how you can almost hear your mother’s voice as you repeat those words in your head, the ones she always tells you.
“So you’ll stop?” you ask, raising a brow and putting your hands on your hips to show him you’re not messing around.
“Ah, well, you see,” Hook starts, and it takes every ounce of benevolence in you to not internally combust at whatever excuse he’s planning to come up with. “I’m having a tad bit of trouble with this spell, love. No matter what I do, I simply can’t seem to lock on to the right target.”
At this, you raise your eyebrows again, disbelief laced through your every cell. “Why don’t you give it a go,” you say, jerking your chin towards the basket in the middle of the room. “You never know until you don’t try.”
Hook leans forward in his chair, righting it again so it stands on all four legs. He raises his wand, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s actually concentrating on the task at hand. One of the metal disks rises into the air, levitating a meter above the floor.
Hook flicks his wand forward and the disk sails away, missing the basket in an almost laughable attempt at execution. Instead of the proper target, it lands on the edge of a file cabinet in the far corner of the room. You pray for the poor soul that will inevitably open one of its drawers, only to be smacked in the head by a piece of solid steel.
Eyebrows raised, Hook unabashedly turns back around to face you with that grin of his. “So how was that, love? Satisfied?”
“Not quite,” you huff, shaking your head at him. “Honestly, I haven’t seen anyone make such a…uh, interesting attempt at this assignment.” Deep down, a little part of you really wants to say much meaner things, but you bite back your words, knowing that showing contempt never did anyone any good.
“Interesting, eh?” Hook’s smirk grows, and you can see him already scheming inside that villainous little mind of his. “Say, Y/N”—he uncrosses his legs, leaning in your direction—“you’re the top student of this class, are you not?”
You narrow your eyes at him, but refrain from saying anything you know you’ll later regret. “Yes, and?”
“Well, as you can clearly see here, I require a bit of assistance with this assignment. After all, not everyone grew up waving wands like you,” he quips, flourishing the wand in his hand as if it were an ordinary stick. Abruptly, he stills his movements and drops the wand on his desk, before turning to face you directly, locking eyes. “Would you be so kind as to teach me a few things?”
You quirk your brows, albeit attempting to keep a straight face. “Are you asking me to…tutor you?”
Hook grins yet again. “This evening, 7 o’clock, the common area in the East Wing.” He puts his hand on his knees as he gets up, now leering a few inches above you. Still holding your gaze—although he has to tilt his head down to do so—he asks, “I’ll see you then?”
You blink twice, mind replaying the events that led to you getting yourself stuck in this situation. On the one hand, you definitely don't want to have a one-on-one study session with a villain—and an annoyingly smug one at that. Honestly, the few interactions you are forced to have with him in class are far enough for you. 
But on the other hand, he is asking for help to improve his grades…after all, it’s not every day someone the likes of him shows interest in learning. Plus, you know that it’s not right to turn away a person in need of your help, no matter how insufferable they are. Especially if they’re always flashing you a smile filled with shining white teeth and full, plump pink lips.
A sigh escapes your mouth before you can stop it as you resign yourself to your fate. “Alright, I guess. But come prepared to learn. That means you need your wand, your textbooks, notebo—”
He cuts you off with a passive sweep of his hook, much to your annoyance. Leaning in just a little closer to you, enough to make your palms slightly sweaty, his face tilts down even nearer to yours. “It’s a date, then,” Hook says, his voice soft but still with that teasing tone it always seems to carry.
“It’s not a date!” you call out as the bell rings, but he’s already making his way out of the classroom, sauntering off to do who-knows-what.
Heavens, what have I gotten myself into, you think, placing a hand on your forehead as you breathe out a long, heavy sigh.
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The evening rolls around far too quickly for your liking, and before you know it you’re making your way out of your doom room and up a set of stairs.
You keep on thinking about how you had ample time to back out of this arrangement; plus, you would be lying if you said you didn't consider it a number of times. But each time, you remind yourself that you are doing a good deed for someone obviously in need of a good influence. That you have to be selfless and put aside your personal feelings to serve a good cause, as all heroes do. That your opinions don't really matter—after all, the best heroes are the ones who make the deepest sacrifices, right?
So that’s how you find yourself dragging heavy feet across a corridor, a tiny voice in your head begging you to turn around, as you finally reach the common area set as your meetup spot. You glance at your wristwatch, which reads 6:55. You had decided to leave a bit early so you could arrive with a few minutes to spare. As your mother always reminds you, “It’s better to be an hour early than a minute late.”
Pulling out a chair at a nearby two-person table, you sit down, plopping your bookbag next to you. You had stuffed it full of your personal notes, your wand, and several textbooks you thought could help Hook. 
Tapping a pencil on the wooden desk, you sigh, glancing at your clock again. 6:57. Thinking back on your previous decision, you wonder why you left so early. After all, you have Hook down in your mind as the type to be extremely unpunctual. Leaning back in your chair out of sheer boredom, you start to clearly picture Hook showing up a good hour late. Heck, you’d be surprised if he even shows up at all. 
The clock hits 6:59, and you begin to debate how long you’re willing to stay here before giving up and returning to your dorm. Would ten minutes be enough? Fifteen? Thirty? The more you think about it, the more you can imagine this being some sort of elaborate prank to trick you. After all, why would a delinquent villain like Hook ever be interested in planning a tutoring session?
You sigh once again, angry at yourself for being so naive as to fall for his little trick. Drumming your fingers on the table as you put your head down, you mentally punch yourself for your gullibility. 
Which is why you nearly jump out of your own skin at the sound of a loud thud sound from in front of you. You jerk back into your chair, arms flailing as it tips, causing you to nearly topple backwards. With your reflexes kicking in, your hand latches onto the edge of the table—thankfully—and you manage to pull yourself back to a more stable position.
Hand clutching your pounding heart, you roll your head back to be greeted with that stupid little smirk that haunts your thoughts. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright, love. After all, we were planning to meet up, were we not?” Hook says, tone extremely smug and a tiny bit pitiful at your frightened state. 
You raise your arm and flick your wrist, reading the time displayed on your clock. 7:00. He…he showed up exactly on time, you think, praying that your shock isn’t displayed on your face.
As if he can read your mind—and in all honesty, maybe he can—Hook says, “You didn’t doubt me, now, did you, darling? How could I skimp out on our little date?”
“It’s not a date,” you tell him once again, not even trying to hide the annoyance in your voice this time.
“Whatever you say.” Hook gives a little grin as he raises his eyebrows for a second. Before you can continue to argue, he pulls out the chair across from you and sits down. You eye a small black leather satchel that dangles from his hook as he drops it down on the floor. Huh, he even came prepared.
He leans in, arms resting on the table, as he fixes you with a sly grin. “So, Miss Teacher, what are you going to teach me today?”
You hate to pass on the opportunity to make a snarky remark, but you know that rubbing Hook the wrong way is not going to make these next few hours any less sufferable. Instead, you simply go for a “How about you start by getting out your materials?”
“As you wish, m’lady.” An irritated sigh escapes your lips, and you realize you’ve been sighing a lot more than usual ever since you got in this…predicament. You watch, somewhat impatiently, as Hook reaches down and draws a single notebook and his practice wand out of the leather satchel. Glancing at his materials, then back at yours, you realize that you came a lot more prepared than he did, even though you’re not the one trying to learn here. Well, I guess him putting in some effort still better than nothing.
You pull out one of the thick textbooks from your bag, the used animal skin cover peeling at the edges and the pages yellowed from the wear of time. 
“First, we’re going to get started with the theory of enchantments and spells.” You flip through the pages until you land on the first of many detailing the basics of spellcasting. “Even though we’re going to be focusing on the Aiming Spell, the underlying principles are pretty much the same for all spells you use. Now, you see here, highlighted in the chart are the five main…”
You chance a glance over at Hook, voice trailing off when you realize he isn’t listening. In fact, he's not even looking at the textbook placed in the middle of the desk. Instead, his gaze is fixed on…
…you?
“Hey! Why are you staring at me like that, you weirdo!” you exclaim, pulling back from the table. Hook remains unflinching, his chin in his good hand as he stares up at you with a sparkle in his eye. 
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, love. You’re just so…so entrancing.”
You blink hard, recoiling at his words. He’s not flirting with you…is he? No, there’s no way. Don’t be overly arrogant, you convince yourself. This is just his personality, how he usually acts. The same way he calls everyone “love” and “darling.” There’s absolutely nothing more to it than him saying anything he can think of to fluster you and throw you off track.
…Right?
You ignore the stupid little flutter your heart does at not just being called pretty, or beautiful, or any of the normal compliments. No, you aren’t normal, you’re entrancing…
Snap out of it! you internally scold yourself. This is just another one of his little antics. You’re just letting him win by getting in your head. 
“Look, I didn’t come here and set aside this chunk of my valuable time to tutor you, only for you to not listen. If you came here to mess around—” you rant, but you’re cut off before you can get everything off your chest.
“I apologize, lassie. I promise, I’ll focus from here on out,” Hook vows. You eye him with a glare, feeling very distrustful, but you’re only met with his rather sincere gaze.
You let out another breath, once again regretting agreeing to this. “Fine. Get out your notebook. You’re going to want to take notes on this.”
Hook nods and reaches into his satchel, which is still lying on the floor. “If I’m being completely honest—which I assume you must hold in high regard, being a hero and whatnot—I really didn’t expect you to be so…irritable.”
You shoot Hook another glare, before realizing that you’re just proving his point. You give a brief roll of your eyes as you attempt a smile. “I’m not usually like this,” you say, fighting to keep a decently pleasant expression on your face. “You just really find a way to, how should I put this, you really—”
“Push your buttons?” Hook finishes for you, raising his eyebrows.
“I was going to say you really find a way to get on my nerves, but that too,” you respond, with obviously forced cheerfulness. “Whatever, we need to get back to studying. For real this time.”
Hook replies with an “Of course, m’lady,” before you begin your lecture again on the foundation of enchantments. This time, he makes sure to periodically glance down at the textbook pages and occasionally nod or ask a question, all to ensure that you don’t catch him staring at you again. Unbeknownst to you, adoration shines bright in his eyes as he studies your features, committing them to memory every time you’re not looking his way.
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You spend some time going over theory with Hook, until you can feel him growing restless, causing you to start wondering if people like him have a capacity for how much information they can absorb at one time. Deciding that theory is no good if it’s not put to practice, you slam the textbook shut once you reach the end of a page, standing up.
Hook looks up at you, a slightly startled expression on his face. “Come on,” you say. “Now we’re going to see how much you paid attention by putting your lesson to good use.”
You hope to see a look of fear flash across his face, but his demeanor stays completely even. Feeling a bit let down, you remind yourself that he still has to actually cast the spell. Watch him mess it up, you think. Let’s see how smug he is then, huh?
Reaching down into your bookbag, you pull out a small bundle wrapped in a piece of cloth. You open it to reveal a handful of metal disks, similar to the ones you had used earlier in class. You empty them out on the table before walking over to the middle of the room and placing the cloth down on the floor, a good number of meters away from your table. “This is your target area,” you explain. “Stand by the table and get those rings to land within the borders of the cloth.”
Let’s see how well you fare now, pretty boy.
“Aye, that’s not fair,” Hook says, scrunching his brow as he gestures towards your setup with his hook. “That cloth’s much smaller than the basket we used in class. And the distance is far greater.”
“Well, if you learn how to get the spell right with tougher constraints than the requirement, you’ll be sure to do great for the real thing.” You flash him a wink as you watch his jaw part slightly, an incredulous expression painted on his face. “That’s how I always ace my exams.”
Hook draws in a breath, putting his ever-famous smirk back on his face, although you can feel his unease this time. He picks up his wand, turning around to point it at disks on the table. 
Up. He rolls his hand upwards, and one of the disks starts to levitate a foot in the air.
Swish. Hook jerks his wrist to the side, causing the disk to start gently vibrating with potential energy. 
Circle. He rotates his hand counterclockwise, drawing a circle with the tip of the wand.
Flick. You watch with bated breath as Hook flicks the wand towards the cloth in the middle of the room. 
Both of you follow the disc’s arc through the air with tense anticipation, as it soars, soars…
…and ends up missing the cloth by a good three feet.
Hook gives a small, halfhearted laugh, trying to keep up the suave facade. Yet you notice the way his shoulders slump forward, the way his body stiffens in an embarrassing shock. 
Part of you feels a wickedly twisted satisfaction at his failure—but as soon as you recognize it for what it is, you shove it away, repulsed at the thought of you even coming close experiencing such an emotion. Plus, the majority of you feels rather disappointed at the undesirable outcome. Whether it’s Hook’s chagrin rubbing off on you, or the voice in your head whispering that you, as his teacher, failed at your job, you can’t help but feel a bit let down at his messing up.
“Hey, it’s fine. Let’s try again,” you say softly, your usual eager-to-help manner coming back at the sight of someone needing comforting.
And so, Hook tries again. And again. And again.
Finally, after the seventh or eighth try, he puts the wand back down on the table. “I don’t know what to tell you, love. No matter how hard I try, it’s simply not working.” You sigh, looking at the floor before you, which was now littered with disks. “Hey, at least you got closer each time! That’s still progress.” You attempt to raise his spirits a bit, but he just fixes you with a look that tells you he’s not one to fall for your false positivity.
“Uhm…” You hesitate, not quite sure what to do next or how to fix this. “How about you see how I do it, and try to copy that?”
Hook gives a small nod and you fish out your wand, pulling up your sleeves and taking a deep breath to prepare. Focusing on one of the disks on the table, you start the particular movements. Up. Swish. Circle. Flick!
Both of you watch in somewhat astonishment as the ring curves perfectly through the air, flying with grace, as it lands directly in the center of the cloth.
Hook looks at you with raised eyebrows. Although that little part of you wants to rub it in his face, the fact that a hero, out of all people, bested him, you decide that torturing him with your teasing is only going to make him less likely to get the spell right.
“You see that? Now, try to copy it yourself,” you instruct.
And so, Hook makes a few more attempts, landing closer to the cloth each time, now only a couple inches away—yet never actually making contact with it.
You study his movements carefully as he casts the spell, trying to figure out what he’s doing wrong. After a few more of his failed attempts, you decide to try a different approach.
“Okay, watch me do it again, but this time come hold my wand from behind so you can get a feel for how I cast it,” you say, glancing up at Hook. “After all, it’s all in the wrist.” You recite a line your mother always says, one that often replays in your mind as you cast a spell. In your opinion, her guidance is the main reason that you’re so good at spells.
You’re still sitting down in your chair, pushing it in a little to provide room for him to come up behind you and reach your wand. 
You were expecting Hook to get rather close; after all, there aren’t many ways for two people to hold the same wand in the position you were in without a tight proximity. What you weren’t expecting was the way he comes up from behind you leisurely, deliberately. The way his chest presses into your back as he leans in, arm brushing against yours as he extends it towards the wand. The way you can feel his exhales on your skin, breathing down your neck—literally—causes goosebumps to rise up and down your arms. The way his natural aroma engulfs you completely, overwhelming your senses all at once. How his large hand feels on yours as he places it on top, curling his fingers around the wand—and yours, as well. The way you can feel the smirk dancing on his face, looking down at you with what you expect to be half-lidded eyes. 
And the way your heart races, good heavens. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought you just ran a marathon. Your body simultaneously heats up and freezes at his touches, no matter how small, your mind becoming overly aware of every point of contact you have with him. You fight against the overstimulation flooding your senses, resisting the urge to wipe your sweaty palms on your legs, while hoping that the wand doesn’t slip out of your hand as perform the incantation. 
Truth be told, although you definitely won’t admit this to anyone: you really haven’t had much experience with romance, or anything of the sorts. All your life, you’ve focused on doing good deeds and keeping up with your studies, aiming to be the best of the best in the hero world. Which is probably why no boy has ever taken interest in you; instead of going to dances or out on dates, you've always spent your Friday nights locked away in your room, studying hard to make sure you ace your exams. Plus, with your goody-two-shoes streak, you aren't exactly the most sought-out person in your class.
Which is why with the way Hook flirts with you, and now, the way you can feel his inhales and exhales against your skin—subconsciously trying to match the rhythm of his breathing—your brain is short-circuiting. The lack of romantic attention you’ve received your whole life is behind why you don't know how to react to Hook's antics, while still internally freaking out at his movements and words.
You inhale a shaky breath, trying to steady your quivering hand and hope that Hook doesn’t notice your reaction. But after the amused little hum he gives, your embarrassment grows by the second. Trying your best to focus on the task at hand, you say, “Okay, here goes.”
Up. You feel Hook’s grip tighten around your hand, just a little bit but still enough to make your heart skip a beat.
Swish. The disk vibrates with extreme intensity, to the point where you’re afraid it’ll break apart, despite the metal structure.
Circle. As you circle your wrist around, you feel Hook’s arm rub against yours even more, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Gods, the things this man is doing to you.
Flick. You flick the wand towards the cloth yet again, jerking your head sideways to follow it as it flies across the room. Agonizing in how it ignites every nerve in your body, you feel Hook’s head brush against the top of yours as he follows your movements, watching the disk soar.
It seems, for a minute, as if it’s going to land right on top of the previous one. But to both your shocks, it falls just outside the borders of the cloth, barely touching the edge.
Your face absolutely burns in embarrassment, palms dripping with sweat now. Hook tilts his head towards yours—which you feel all too well—as he says, far closer to your ear than you would’ve liked, “Well, it seems like even the master makes mistakes, love.”
Fuming, you finally give into the urge and drop the wand to wipe your hands on your clothes. Screw him, you mentally curse. It’s all his fault. I’ve never messed up this spell before.
And as much as you want to blame him, you know that it’ll do you absolutely no good to tell him the fact that he was so close to you made your brain short-circuit to such an extent that you messed up a spell you could do since you were five.
You shake your head, refusing to accept your failure. “No, I…I don’t know what happened. It must have been a faulty disk. Just…I’m going to try again.”
Hook raises his eyebrows at you—or at least, you’re pretty sure he does, as you can’t see him from behind. You grab your wand again, and without even telling him to do so, Hook leans in and places his hand back over yours, your fingers trapped between his and the wand.
Internally, you find yourself growing impossibly more annoyed at him. Honestly, did he really have to go back to that position, the one that made you mess up the spell in the first place? You take a deep, steadying breath, forcing away all thoughts of Hook and how his dark brown eyes, beautiful and rich like the bark of the trees back in Oz, are boring into your skull right now. You simply can’t afford to get distracted again. Messing up the spell once is one thing—sure, everyone makes mistakes, don’t they? But twice? It would be absolutely inexcusable.
Twice would mean that you are not as adept as you thought you were, not talented enough in the one thing that you've been sure of for your whole life.
Remember the words.
Up, swish, circle, flick!
Fueled by your self-directed rage, you ensure that every movement you make is precise, sharp, and without a single tremor going through your hand. This time, the disk slices through the air with a clean, aerodynamic curve, and lands…
…right on top of your first one.
You beam, regaining your former confidence in your spellcasting abilities.
“The master may sometimes make mistakes, but they’re still the master,” you gloat. “Now come on, you need to practice till you get as good as that.”
You and Hook spend quite some time on practicing the spell, with you giving him pointers and him—surprisingly—improving. It seems as though your hands-on demonstration really helped him, as his skills greatly improved. 
Soon, in every set of ten rings he practiced on, he was consistently getting six or seven of them within the boundaries of the cloth, with one or two more landing on the edge, half-in. 
After one round where he managed to get nine of the disks touching the cloth—his personal best so far—you decide he needs something even more challenging.
“Woah, that was a really good round,” you praise. Hook turns to face you, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that his normal smirk seems a little less snarky and a little more…genuine. 
“Still not as good as you, though, love,” Hook replies. You can tell he’s trying hard to maintain his nonchalant front, especially when it comes to academics, but the pride in his eyes and the earnest grip on his wand tell a different story. Honestly, you like him better this way. Less of him pretending to be a bad boy villain, and more of his real personality.
And in this moment, as you subtly study his features and think about his change in behavior over the past few hours, a thought that’s never even come close to crossing your mind suddenly pops up. What if villains, just like heroes, feel pressured to uphold a certain facade? The same way that you’ve always felt like you just have to be good, no matter the cost, no matter how hard it is for you, maybe villains feel the same way. Maybe they believe they always have to be bad, troublesome, and cruel. Even if that’s not who they truly are.
And through the lens of your new insight, you start seeing Hook in a different light. Just like how you feel as if being good and helpful and cheery all the time is a burden, how sometimes you wish you could just let loose and be selfish, maybe villains feel like being evil is a burden. Maybe Hook feels compelled to act smug and suave, even though that isn’t who he truly feels like being all the time. 
You begin to feel a deep sense of guilt for judging him based on his demeanor and criticizing his performance in class. Reflecting back, you realize that you had been unnecessarily harsh on him for something that is likely beyond his control. Gosh, I'm such an idiot, you think, shame burning your cheeks.
Shaking off your remorse, you put on another bright smile and try to respond as cheerfully as possible. “Hey, it’s still a huge improvement from sending the rings flying on top of a filing cabinet in the corner of the room. Or at innocent bystanders’ heads!” This time, you don’t encourage him because you feel pressured to do so, or because that’s who you know you’re supposed to be. You do it because deep down, in your heart, it’s what you feel like saying.
“Hmm, true,” Hook replies, angling his head to the side as he considers your point, the smallest of smiles still dancing on his lips.
“Now, for your final test.” At your statement, Hook raises a brow. “You need something different, something truly challenging. Something to prove your mastery of the Aiming Spell…”
You rack your brain for ideas, but nothing comes to mind. After a moment in silence, Hook speaks up. “I may have an idea.”
Glancing over at him, rather surprised—you were the teacher, after all—you gesture for him to go on. 
“Go stand over there by that wall,” he instructs, motioning with his hook to the wall opposite you two. “And put your hands up.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, fixing him with a look of wariness and doubt. You don’t move for a second, still too distrusting of him as you try to imagine what standing in that position has to do with casting a spell. Noticing your hesitation, Hook nods towards the wall again. “Well, go on, love.”
Still suspicious of him, you cave in and walk over to the far side of the room. Pressing your back against the wall as you raise your hands up, the position makes you feel as if you've just been caught red-handed in the midst of a crime. Hook still stands by the table, waiting patiently. You try to think back to the textbook pages you went over with him, wondering if you had accidentally taught him some sort of attack charm that he was planning to use on you.
Feeling your anxiety build, you wriggle your left fingers, wrapping your thumb and middle finger around the base of your pointer. You always wear a special, very pretty ring on that hand, a gift your mother gave to you a few years ago. Fiddling with it while twisting it around and around helps to soothe you, especially when you feel nervous.
But this time, when you go to repeat the same movement you always do, you feel the absence of the familiar metal surface and engravings etched into it. Glancing up at your hand, you confirm that your ring is indeed missing. The only trace of its former presence is the two parallel, circular indents in your skin from wearing it for so long.
Your panic skyrockets now at the loss of one of your favorite possessions, practically forgetting about Hook and the unease that accompanied his bizarre request. That ring had come with a special message; the night you got it, your mother had told you, “Remember when you were younger, and I told you that people are either good or bad? Well, that’s not quite true. No one is really black or white. We’re all just shades of gray. Some people are lighter gray, and some people are darker gray. And although we might be different shades, we all fall under the same color. Remember that, Y/N.”
And you have remembered it. Every time you go to toy with your ring, those words echo in your mind. Your mom had embedded the ring with a marble featuring a swirl of many different shades of gray, a reminder of the message that came along with it. You were too young to truly understand her words back then, but now, especially in these recent moments, you think you’re starting to fully grasp what she meant.
Snapping back to the present, you realize the serious problem you have at hand. “My ring!” you cry. “I could have sworn I had it when I came here…”
“Looking for this?” Hook’s smirk is back in full force. His left arm is raised, and on the crest of his polished metal hook, your precious ring glimmers under the golden lights projected from the ceiling.
“You…! When did you even…” your voice trails off as your mind catches up to your mouth. It must have been when he leaned in, while you were demonstrating the spell. That was the only time he had gotten close enough to you, although you don’t know how in the world he nicked it off your finger without you having the slightest hint.
Then you remember, quite painfully, how flustered you had been in that moment. If you were so distracted that you couldn't even cast a simple spell right, then you certainly wouldn’t have had enough brainpower to notice a skilled thief steal from you.
“Hey! Give that back!” you exclaim, huffing angrily, a frown etched deep into your face.
“I will, darling,” Hook replies smugly. “Now, raise your hands up again. And don’t wiggle your fingers around this time.”
“Give me my ring back first!” you demand, your previous annoyance towards him coming right back.
“Let me do this first, and then you’ll get your ring. Hands up.” At your glare, Hook tilts his head to the side and gives you a look. “Don’t you trust me?”
Well, of course not, is the first thought that pops into your mind. You’re a liar and a thief, and above all, a villain.
But then you remember your mother’s words, your earlier revelation and how, just for a moment, you glimpsed Hook through a different light. So, although you definitely won't go as far as saying that you trust him, you still empathize with him enough to give in to his request.
Wordlessly, you raise your hands back up to your sides, palms facing in front of you, while fighting the urge to fidget again. You debate whether or not it’d be best to close your eyes for this, but you ultimately decide that if Hook does try to pull any more of his little tricks, all your senses should be sharp and aware.
And so you stand, frozen, as Hook raises the wand. For a second, you think he’s going to cast the spell on you. But instead, he uses his good hand to remove the ring from where it’s stuck in his hook, instead placing it dangling from the tip. He points his wand at the ring, repeating the maneuvers you two practiced so many times.
Up. The ring lifts off his hook and levitates just in front of him.
Swish. It starts vibrating like the disks, but due to its small size, your cherished ring begins to rotate on its axis.
Circle. With Hook’s circular movement of the wand, the ring’s spinning accelerates, locking on to its target—whatever that is.
Flick. For one final time, Hook flicks his wrist, this time towards you.
You watch, your heart pounding as fast as ever, as the ring—your ring—curves through the sky as it falls, getting closer and closer to you. You slam your eyes shut for just a beat, unable to bear the anticipation, before remembering your earlier rationale again.
Eyes flying open instantly, you regain your vision just as the ring falls, falls, falls, landing…
…directly on your finger.
But not the finger that you previously wore it on. Your eyes widen again in disbelief as it slips perfectly around your ring finger.
“Uh…I…uhm…” you stammer, confused and shocked and overwhelmed with far too many things at once to form a coherent sentence. How in the world did he cast such a precise Aiming Spell, in a situation where it wouldn’t have succeeded had he been even a centimeter off? And if he was so precise with his location pinpointing, then why in the world did he put it on your left ring finger??
“Come on, spit it out, love,” Hook replies teasingly. “You can say it, don’t be afraid.”
Your mind is working far too hard for you to shoot him a glare, but you mentally do it anyway. “That was…impressive,” you finally admit, although you wish you didn’t when Hook’s smug grin grows twice as wide. Ugh, his ego is already big enough. I did not need to inflate it like that.
“Could you always cast the spell that well?” you ask, still stunned at his precision. You honestly couldn’t see how anyone who had been sending disks flying all across the room a mere few hours ago was now casting spells with the accuracy of someone who had been doing this for years.
“Why, of course not. You saw how I was earlier.” Hook’s grin grows even wider as he adds, “It’s all because I had a wonderful teacher.”
You still frown at him skeptically, walking back towards the table where he stands. “I highly doubt it’s because of that. I mean, I don’t know if even I could pull something like that off with such little practice.”
At this, Hook gives a little laugh. “What do they say, the student exceeds the teacher?”
You roll your eyes at him. “No, they call it ‘beginner’s luck.’ You should be happy you got it right this time, because you might not get so lucky on your exams.”
Hook grins again, and as much as you detest the pleasure he gets from teasing you—and though you’d never admit it—a small, dark gray part of you enjoys the playful banter between you two.
“That’s why I have you, darling. If I ever need more help, I’ll know who to run to.” He leans in close to you, so close, until his mouth is right next to your ear. You start having flashbacks to your previous experiences with Hook being in a close proximity, and the combined feelings from both your memories and his current actions causes your body to heat up in a way you didn’t even know was possible. 
He tilts his head down ever so slightly towards you, his lips feathering across your ear. “And you won’t be able to get out of helping me, my little goody-goody.”
Your mind is absolutely spinning at his words, his touch, his presence, his everything. You desperately struggle to formulate some sort of response, but just as you open your mouth, ready to question his choice of ring placement, a deep, low horn sounds, reverberating off the walls.
Curfew.
Hook breaks away from you as you glance down at your wristwatch. The clock shows exactly 10:00. Gods, how did the time pass by so quickly?
You glance back up at Hook, deciding to ignore the way he so alluringly whispered in your ear just seconds ago. “Well, uh, we have to get going, then,” you awkwardly say, scratching at your neck.
Hook stands there for a moment, staring at you whilst completely motionless, making you wonder what he’s thinking and what he’s planning to do. Just as you’re about to bid him a goodnight and turn away, he reaches his good hand out, grabbing your left one. He holds it delicately in his hand, his palm cupped upwards with your fingers resting gently on top.
Slowly, and while keeping his head up just enough to maintain eye contact with you the entire way down, he bends into a bow in front of you. Only does he avert his gaze when he finally reaches your hand, looking down at your ring, which still sits on your ring finger, as he places a kiss on the bright stone.
He peers back up at you, deep brown eyes wide and expressive.
“Until we meet again, m’lady.”
on to part 2! ->
taglist: @4ng3l-ch1ld @astrynyx @0strawberrysorbet0
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a/n: the demons I had to fight to not name this "if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it" haha. anyways thanks for reading!
do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.
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cl6teen · 1 year ago
Text
all i want is you ❀ cl16
in which charles thinks he can stay just friends with you after a breakup (spoiler alert: he cant)
read part two here.
contains: social media au, ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader, angsty charles and yn living her best life, mentions of charles’s new girlfriend, charles is a confusing man
note: something small just to feed the kids yk, pls don’t read into the twt dates i was too lazy to change them
📍south of france
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, lilymhe, and 100,675 others
yourusername this travel thing is kind of fun 🇫🇷
tagged kikagomes
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lilymhe my wifey is so pretty
alexalbon okay then just date atp
yourusername wdym? we already are
alexalbon why do i put up with this
lilymhe because you love us duh
pierregasly no photo credits or tag? i’m (deeply) hurt
yourusername oh please you complained the whole time and then made me and kika take photos of you
pierregasly that is not a crime
kikagomes my stylish icon 🤍
yourusername te amo te amo
carlossainz55 coming to spain next i hope?
yourusername who knows 🤭
landonorris actually she’s coming to the uk with me next
carlossainz55 😢😢 yn you betray me
yourusername you know you’re my favourite carlos
landonorris ouch
charles_leclerc very pretty
yourusername thank you charlie
luvleclrc it’s so sweet that he still comments on her photos
user i miss them real bad
4ouryn are we getting any more travel vlogs soon?
yourinstagram im working on it! it’ll be out around this friday :)
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charles_leclerc good times at home
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user charles leclerc the man that you are 😭😭
user seeing him with a baby is just what i needed on my tl
yourusername two cuties at sea!
charles_leclerc so you think i’m cute 🤔
yourusername only because of the baby in your hands
charles_leclerc you hurt my feelings y/n
user omg charles still flirting with yn is so crazy
user idk if it’s flirting per se, they’re just friends now
user they were so cute i still don’t get why they broke up
user charles broke up with her bc he wanted to focus on racing
carlossainz55 somebody wants to be a daddy
charles_leclerc don’t put words in my mouth mate 😅
user is this a joke ? 👀
pierregasly i see what he’s doing
charles_leclerc ??
landonorris he’s cooking
alexandrasaintmleux so handsome
liked by charles_leclerc
twitter
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📍 lake como, italy
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liked by alexalbon, kikagomes, carlossainz55, and 97,333 others
yourusername loving italia 🇮🇹
carlossainz55 next stop madrid?
yourusername we’ll see, won’t we
landonorris i better be invited
carlossainz55 you know your way here mate
user omg the ferrari flag
yourusername deep down everyone is a ferrari fan :)
user should we read into that
yourusername no lmao
lilymhe travelling with you is the best
yourusername what would i do without you
alexalbon everyday i wake up
user no charles like or comment :( i guess he really is dating that girl
user justice for yn literally
user they still follow each other tho but i feel so bad for both girls
kikagomes i have no clue how anyone could break up with you, like seriously
yourusername me too, but life is too short to worry about things like that babe
user 👀 charles shade??
user i think we should stop tying y/n’s identity to charles in general
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carlossainz55 updated their story 2 hours ago. landonorris updated their story 1 hour ago.
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📍madrid, spain
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yourusername troublemakers in madrid
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landonorris who are those studs in the first photo
yourusername so humble !
alexalbon potential summer soft launch?
yourusername who knows
user ugh why is she always with those two, i swear she wants them so bad
yourusername ew no those two are my sons 🤱
pierregasly who’s the daddy 🤔
landonorris don’t say it like that yn 😭😭
carlossainz55 i’m older than you though, no?
yourusername no carlos it’s like, in spirit
user WHO IS THAT MAN???? is that carlos?? lando??
yourusername no! but he’s certainly someone 🤭
user that’s charles right?
user he’s in monaco right now, it couldn’t be him plus he’s got a gf
lilymhe okay mysterious girl
yourusername i love to keep people on their toes
lilymhe but seriously text me and tell me who that is
kikagomes girl me too
user shout out to yn for reuniting carlando!!
liked by yourusername
yourusername updated their story 5 mins ago
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carlos’s phone 📞
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charles
are you with y/n right now
i know you are
carlos
then why ask m8
yes i’m with her, why?
charles
is she mad at me
carlos
that’s a stupid question, but i don’t know man, she hasn’t brought you up
and lando and i aren’t going to
what’s the phrase?
poke the bear
actually, i shouldn’t compare her to that
but i would be mad if i were her
charles
who’s that man she posted the other day??
you’ve been with her during her entire spain trip yes? what does he look like, do you know him?
carlos
he is a good friend of mine yes
i somewhat set them up, things have been going good, they’re both here at our dinner
charles
aiii carlos! why would you set them up??
how could you do this to me??
carlos
did you forget that you broke with her? to focus on racing?
which would be fine if you didn’t get another girl just a month after?
i don’t even know how she could stay friends with you, but she asked me to find a guy for her
i am a good friend, so i found someone
if you’re jealous, you shouldn’t have broken up in the first place
charles
i’m not jealous at all carlos
carlos
then why are you stalking her account and asking me about a man she is seeing?
if you’re so concerned, text her yourself
charles
argh you’re no help
your phone 📞
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charlie
hey
i miss you
a lot
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Text
*Rises from the depths* You rang? <-sonkiturgails truther
we have kiturge. we have kitta/ils. we have sonurge. we have sontails.
now where the fuck is the sonkit and the surgails. hm? huh?
the people wanna know!
#kiturge#sontails#sonkit#sonurge#kittails#surgails#sonic the hedgehog#idw sonic comics#tagging these ships cause it's mentioned I guess?#anyways ngl I remember after reading the issue where Kit was trying to be really helpful to Sonic being surprised people hadn't latched#onto it#Sonkit couldda been this kinda angsty thing where Kit heavily focused on Sonic after Surge's 'death' and started hardcore little buddying#for Sonic#like imagine you're Sonic and you're like 'Oh Kit? he's just normal. he's just trying to help' and then the Kitsunami in question bodies#Tails in the middle of them both rushing over to Sonic to assist because Tails was in his way and he wanted to get to Sonic's side to#aid him#But also Kit during 67! He wanted to stand up and punch Sonic in that face the whole issue. I think another fun flavor of Sonkit aside from#Kit being loyal and fixated to a fault while Sonic is lowkey scared#is Kit wanting so badly to deck him and holding back because Sonic is Surge's target. so he has to project most of that ire onto Tails to#deal with it...#Surgails? Man they could be funny#one of my favorite comics depicting these two is a comic where Surge annoys Tails into making her a grilled cheese#they would be worsties#they'd recognize hints of their partner in the other (derogatory)#They could come to respect each other#personally I prefer surgails in a weird platonic way where their feelings for each other are definitely platonic but like. you know. they#could still get down and nasty for the fun of it#suggestive#i just be ramblin
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jinhyun · 1 year ago
Note
Omggggg
Lino and the "friends? Why are you looking at me like that?" prompt, where he asks reader what they are, and is finally frustrated (and whipped) enough to come clean about his feelings, after some time in their fwb/situationship, or wtv they had going on
Like some angsty (or maybe funny?) thing, with a happy ending obviously, it's all up to you if it's something you're interested in writing :)
Love your works, hope you're doing great love!!
"What are we?"
"Friends?" you answered in a heartbeat.
And maybe your answer had come just a little too fast for his liking; like you were too fucking sure of the fact that the two of you were just friends.
Not even the way your head had tilted as you spoke, or how your tone had come out as more of a questioning one, was enough to convince him you were not entirely sure of your answer either.
Minho remained silent, staring at you intensely enough to let you know with his eyes alone that he was not pleased at all.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked, voice almost like a whisper.
He shrugged, taking his eyes off you and focusing on the door instead — the locked doorknob only seeming oh-so-ironic by then.
"Minho?" you pushed it, following his eyes and growing nervous at the sight of the cynical smile curving up his mouth.
"It's just funny, I guess" he finally replied, eyes fixing back on you. "I'm pretty sure friends don't lock themselves in the bathroom just so they can make out while all their friends are downstairs. I guess I got it all wrong".
"Stop it," you mumbled, grabbing his wrist when he tried to reach for the doorknob. "Are you really mad right now?"
"Should I not?" he raised a questioning eyebrow.
"I don't know, I..." you took a deep breath, not understanding how it all went wrong so fast. "I thought this is what you wanted? We were good like this? No strings attached?"
"Maybe at first, but things have changed now" he stated, looking into your eyes for some kind of confirmation. "Am I really the only one who feels that everything's changed between us?"
He wasn't. So, you let him know by lowering your head.
It had all started with a drunken kiss that later turned into more, but neither of you were stupid enough not to realise that the alcohol intoxicating your systems had only given you the little push you needed to do what you both had wanted to for a good while by then.
So, the next time it happened, neither of you needed to use alcohol as an excuse. And after that it just kept happening — over and over, like it was the most natural of things between you two.
You had never sat down to discuss the grounds of whatever this new dynamic of yours was. You were just friends who enjoyed the intimacy of each other's bodies, and you were okay with it so far. Your friendship didn't have to change because of it.
But it did.
Before you could even tell, it did; and you both were left feeling like the kisses you shared and the touches that made you come undone in a matter of minutes, meant something deeper than just two friends having fun together.
It was unspoken, but there had been a switch in your relationship; and although neither of you had been brave enough to bring it up —until now—, you both had welcomed it with open arms.
"Are we really just friends?" He asked.
You laughed under your breath, weakly. Still too stunned by the sudden question.
"What's so funny?" He frowned.
"Nothing," you shook your head, looking up to meet his eyes. "I just, never thought you'd care about labels".
"Well, obviously I'd care when Chan is trying to set you up with one of his friends".
That's when it hit you, why he had dragged you upstairs only a couple of minutes after the whole 'dating' topic was discussed — crashing his mouth against yours the moment the door was closed and cornering you against the sink, where he would later sit you down on.
Most importantly, however, it hit you why the question that was looking to define your relationship had so smoothly ran past his lips.
Smiling, you took a hold of his wrists, pulling him closer and placing them on your waist, before your arms snaked around his neck.
"So this is just you wanting to have some kind of claim on me?"
"I wouldn't call it a claim on you," he disagreed, softly caressing your sides with his thumbs out of utter habit. "Just, don't want you to go out with other people".
"Just say you fell for me and go" you smirked.
"Shut up..." he sighed, gently letting his forehead rest on yours. "But you're mine, though".
You could hardly hold back a squeal at the sound of those words abandoning his mouth, but you somehow managed to by biting your lip and shaking your head in defeat as a wide smile tried to break through. "Didn't you just answer your own question now?"
"Nope, I just said you're mine" he pulled you closer, tightening his hold on your waist. "Still don't know what we are".
You sighed, lovingly this time. It almost felt like a dream, where you got what you had wanted all along. Almost too surreal to believe this was reality.
"All of this because Channie vaguely mentioned setting me up with one of his mates?" You couldn't help but incredulously let out.
"Yes, now give me a proper answer".
"Why don't you take me out on a date first?" you proposed. "You know, like, a proper boyfriend and girlfriend date?"
You could see the way he beamed at the mention of said labels; he did not try to hide it at all. "And then I'll have my answer?"
You smiled, tenderly brushing your lips against his. "And then you'll have your answer".
Laughing under his breath as his hands cupped your face and his thumb traced your bottom lip, he whispered a small 'okay' before he closed the gap between your mouths.
Just like that, closing the deal.
"And you better not hit me with the friends bullshit again, becau—"
You shut him up with another kiss. One that would last longer, and that was enough for him to know you would never try to deny the obvious feelings between the two of you again.
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mattyriddlesbitch · 7 months ago
Note
cliche but I’m a sucker for those tropes where she’s the dare matheo’s friends made him bet on and she finds out
I love those tropes too, it hurts, but is so good. Thank youuuuuu! <3
Bet
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: Angsty, one use of 'shitty', I think that's it.
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You and Mattheo had been dating for just 3 months now. It had been going great. Your dates were always really fun and nice. You always seemed to be hanging out and kissing and holding hands and just being a regular grossly cute couple. It was all so perfect.
That was until you were coming up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower to hang out with the boys. They were up there already and talking and you heard your name so you stopped to listen.
“It's been 3 months with (Y/N). I guess that means you win.” You heard Enzo say, just making you confused.
“I can't believe you did it. I thought you'd get bored of her after 2 weeks.” Theo added.
“You guys should already know how seriously I take bets. I like proving you guys wrong.” Mattheo, your boyfriend, said.
“I think you just like taking our money.” Draco said and the boys laughed.
You felt sick. You were a bet?
You stood on the stairs for a moment, just taking in the conversation and if you paid attention, you could even hear the money being exchanged, the little clinking of coins as they were being passed.
You turned around, hurrying down the stairs as quietly as you could. How humiliating. How could you face any of them again?
You actually really liked Mattheo. He was so sweet and made you laugh and made you feel appreciated. And now you just felt sick and horrible. How could someone fake all that?
You went back to your dorm, unsure if you should hurl or cry. Instead, you settled for going to sleep, not even bothering to change as you settled into your bed, hiding under the blankets. Was it embarrassing to throw yourself a pity party over a boy toying with your feelings? Yes. But right now, you didn't care. You just wanted to sleep and hopefully wake up to either that conversation being a cruel dream or Mattheo never existing.
It took a lot of tossing and turning, but you managed to get to sleep. You woke up in the morning all sweaty and still upset. You didn't wanna get out of bed. You knew getting up meant that you'd have to see him and probably confront him and you didn't know if you were ready for that.
You forced yourself out of bed anyways, knowing there were still classes today, and as much as you would've loved to sulk in bed, you couldn't miss lessons. You got ready for the day, showering and getting dressed in your uniform before heading out.
Only Mattheo was in front of your door when you opened it, holding a pastry and some drink with a look of concern. You froze, not sure what to do.
“Morning, princess. We missed you last night.” He said, offering you the food and drink.
“I was too tired.” You lied, stepping out of your dorm and closing the door. You accepted the food and drink knowing you'll probably just end up throwing it away anyways. Your stomach still felt too sick to eat.
“You could've told me, angel. I would've just spent the night with you. You know I'd rather spend time with you.” He said with a soft smile.
“Sorry. I wasn't really thinking.” You said and started making your way to your class.
Mattheo was quick to follow. “It's alright. I was just worried. Plus, I missed you.” He said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
The contact made you feel gross. It didn't feel right anymore. But you kept your mouth shut for now. You didn't want to make a scene before classes. You were already embarrassed as is, if everyone knew you were just a bet because you fought with Mattheo in front of everyone, you'd probably die.
Classes were awful. They probably would've been normal, even good, if that pit in your stomach would've left. You felt too sick to eat other than a few bites at lunch. You locked yourself in your dorm after classes and tried busying yourself with schoolwork. It was really hard to concentrate, though. Merlin, in only 3 months, you had a few pictures of him in your dorm. Not to mention a shitty necklace he bought that hung around your neck. You took it off and tossed it to your bed so you wouldn't be seeing it every time you looked down at your work. Even put the pictures away in a drawer so you could focus. 
You got so focused in schoolwork, a good distraction from your asshole boyfriend. You still felt horrible, but at least you weren't thinking of him as you answered questions about the history of magic. You didn't even notice you missed dinner as you sat at your desk, throwing yourself into work instead of sulking.
You got pulled out of your little world as someone knocked on the door. You looked at the door for a second before standing up and opening it to see Mattheo again, standing there with a plate of food and a smile.
“Hey, princess. You missed dinner, so I brought you something. I don't want you starving.” He said.
“Thanks. I was just caught up in some schoolwork.” You said as you took the plate, this time it was the truth. Even just looking at the food made you sick. Why was he being so sweet when this is all a lie?
“Is everything okay?” He asked and you noticed you were making a sour face at the food.
“I don't feel like eating.” You said simply.
“Why? Are you feeling sick?” He asked, reaching a hand out to feel your forehead for a fever.
You stopped his hand by pushing his arm away. “I'm not sick.”
He frowned at you not letting him touch you. “Then what's going on?” His eyes looked over you, stopping around your chest. “You aren't wearing my necklace.” He noted, knowing you haven't taken it off since he gave it to you.
You couldn't do it anymore. “Was I just a bet?” You asked, matching his frown.
His face softened slightly as his mouth opened to say something, but no words came out. He didn't wanna say ‘yes’ but he didn't wanna lie either.
It answered your question anyways and you felt tears stinging your eyes at the confirmation. “Don't bother me ever again.” You said and shoved the plate of food at him, letting go before he could even react to grab it, making it fall to the floor as you closed the door on him.
He stood outside your door, trying to gather his thoughts as to what to do next. You may have been just a bet to start with, but, Merlin, help him, he was falling hard for you.
You curled up in your bed again, too depressed to even think about continuing your schoolwork.
The next few days were spent trying to avoid Mattheo and his friends while getting through classes. You saw him try to approach you several times, but you dodged him every time. You missed him and you hated yourself for even thinking that. He hurt you. Why did you miss him?
It wasn't until almost a week later, when you came back to your dorm after classes, you opened the door to see Mattheo leaning against your desk, looking at one of the pictures you shoved in a drawer. You dropped your bag to the floor beside you with a sigh as he looked up at you, standing up straight as he put the picture down.
You crossed your arms as you looked at him. “I told you not to bother me again.”
“I'm sorry.” He said, taking a few steps towards you. “I'll do anything you want but that. I know you're upset. Kick me, punch me, hex me. Do whatever will make you feel better. But I can't just leave you alone.” He looked like he wanted to touch you, but put his hands in his pockets instead.
“I don't care, just leave.” You said, gesturing to the open door.
He went over to the door, but instead of leaving, he just closed it. “I'll be honest, completely honest. Yes, you were a bet. It was supposed to be something fun for me and my friends, but instead, I ended up getting feelings for you.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “So what? You want me to forget that what you did hurt me? You want me to pretend that you didn't have the intentions to play with my feelings and use me for fun?” The hurt and anger was obvious in your tone.
“No. You're right. What I did was awful and I shouldn't have done it.” He said, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the floor.
“So what do you want from me?” You asked, your tone was still harsh.
“You. I want you.” His answer was immediate as he took another step towards you.
You looked away, sighing again in frustration. “I can't just forget and ignore what you did.”
“Please, (Y/N). I'll do anything.” He said, now reaching out for your hand but you step back out of his reach.
“How much?” You asked.
“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he let his hand fall by his side again.
“How much? How much did you get from the bet?”
He hesitated before answering, obviously not fond of the question. “100 galleons.”
“Did you get it? You win?” You asked, the harshness in your tone causing him to shift uncomfortably.
“Yeah.” He said, putting his hand back in his pocket.
“You mean it? For real? About you catching feelings?” You asked a little softer.
“I do.” He really didn't wanna say more than you asked in case he said the wrong thing, so he bit his tongue to not ramble about his feelings towards you.
You stared at him as you thought about what to do. He hurt you, but you actually had feelings for him too. “Was anything else a lie?”
“No. Everything I said and did was all me. No lies, no acts. I was being me. The real me.” He took another step towards you.
You let out a long exhale as you thought. If he was being genuine, then you guys could restart properly. But he wasn't genuine before, so why should you believe him now?
“Please.” He said softly as he stepped towards you again, nearly toe-to-toe with you.
You closed your eyes and sighed, knowing what you were about to do was stupid. “On conditions.” You say and open your eyes to look at him.
His face immediately lit up as he nodded. “Anything.”
“I want the money.” You said and he smiled ever so slightly and nodded. “Not fair you played me and got money for it. Not fair for your friends to get it back either since they made the bet with you.”
“Absolutely. I was gonna take you somewhere nice with it and maybe buy you something, but whatever you want.” He said.
You almost smiled at the thought, but wanted to keep up being angry with him. “I want an apology and love letter. Handwritten until your hand hurts.”
“Fair.” He nodded, his smile getting bigger.
“I want apologies from everyone involved with the bet too.” You added.
He tilted his head in thought. “I can do that.”
“Better get started.”
“Right after this.” He said and cupped your cheeks, leaning in and kissing you gently. “You're so cute when you're upset.”
“I'm about to be downright adorable if you don't get to work now, Riddle.”
“Fine.” He said, stepping back towards your door. “You're gonna love me tomorrow, though! Just wait!” He smiled at you as he left your dorm.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff
@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121
@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236
@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu
Let me know if you wanna be added!
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baptismbaby · 1 year ago
Text
† GOD, FORGIVE ME PT. 2
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mean!ellie x innocent!reader a/n: posted this to ao3: baptismsbaby warnings: toxic!ellie, corruption, virgin!reader, praise, degrading, gaslighter!ellie, belittling, strap on (r!receiving), not rlly angsty but sorta? creds to elliesgalaxy on pinterest for the pic of ellie wc: 4k<3 part one here
You kneeled by your Bible and candles praying for forgiveness for what happened the previous night. Although you enjoyed your time with Ellie, you felt guilty for going against your own morals. You didn’t judge your friends for having premarital sex and you didn’t think you’d go to Hell over it. If so, everyone would burn and not reach paradise. But you always told yourself that you’d wait until you were married before having sex. You blamed the alcohol and the weed but a part of you believed you would’ve done it sober.
You stood up with a sigh, knowing you had promised to meet Dina for lunch to talk about Ellie’s apology. You spent all night coming up with a lie, which you also felt horrible about. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door. You greeted everyone with a smile as you walked past them. You were thankful that no one knew you drank and smoked the night before.
You walked in and almost ran face first into Seth, who glared down at you. “Sorry!” you apologized, stepping past him and heading towards the table where Dina was sitting.
“Hey you,” she greeted with a smile. “How are you feeling today?”
You sat down and set your bag in the chair next to you. “I woke up with a slight headache this morning but it went away after an hour. So I guess not too bad,” you responded.
“You’re a champ. I feel much better but I woke up feeling like complete shit.”
“I guess I didn’t drink enough to get a proper hangover.”
“Which means you didn’t get drunk enough. Gotta try again!”
“Absolutely not!” you disagreed. “I don’t think I wanna drink again. It tasted horrible!”
“That’s why you get a chaser,” said Dina. “Anyways, let’s get to why we’re here.”
She grabbed your wrist and looked deep into your eyes with a smirk. “Please tell me what Ellie said! I’m so shocked she apologized. She never admits when she’s in the wrong.”
“Well, she came up there and basically told me that she felt bad for making me upset. Even though she’s always doing that,” you laughed. “But she said she realized it went too far and that really, I’m not that bad or something like that. She promised she wouldn’t make fun of me again but who knows.”
“So, are you two gonna be friends?” Dina asked.
You shrugged. “I don’t know… she actually invited me over to watch a movie tonight but I think I’m gonna pass.”
“I think you should go. Ellie never invites people to her place unless it’s for a party or she’s bringing a girl home to fuck. Damn, she really feels bad then,” said Dina.
You couldn’t help but smile. Even though she wanted you to come over to fuck you again, you liked the idea of Dina believing Ellie was going out of her way to prove how sorry she was to you. You originally were going to come over and tell her you weren’t sure if y’all should continue seeing each other but it wouldn’t hurt convincing her to watch a movie. 
“Maybe I will go,” you stated. “I wouldn’t want things going back to how they were before.”
Dina peeked behind you and smiled. “Speak of the devil,” she said. You glanced back to see Ellie walking in. Her hair was messy, the top half of it tied up. She wore her gray hoodie still and baggy jeans. She looked over and made eye contact with you. She fixed her gaze on Dina and made her way to the table.
“Sup, Dina,” she said.
“Hey Ellie.”
Ellie looked back at you and nodded. She walked away and sat with a dark haired woman across the room. She smirked at you before starting a conversation with the girl. You frowned, holding your head up with her hand.
“Well, she didn’t say anything to you but she acknowledged you,” Dina uttered.
You couldn’t stop staring at Ellie and the girl. “Who is she sitting with?” you interrogated.
“That’s Cat. You know Cat, she just cut her hair so she’s a bit unrecognizable now.”
You felt a pain shoot through your stomach in jealousy. “Oh, her ex?”
“Yeah. I think they’re talking again. After you left the party, she came by and they disappeared for a couple minutes.”
You felt sick. Ellie used you and knew how much it meant to you to have sex. You got up quickly, the chair scraping across the floor loudly. Ellie turned her head from across the room, staring at you in confusion.
“I-I forgot,” you said. “I forgot I was supposed to help Sadie with something for bible study.”
Dina cocked an eyebrow at you. “Sadie’s on patrol?”
You smacked your face with your hand. “Shoot, you’re right. That’s next Saturday. Nevermind. I do need to go, though. My head is beginning to hurt again. I think I need a nap. It’s starting to get busy and all the chatter is killing me.”
“You alright?” asked Dina with concern.
“I’ll be okay. I’ll take a nap and feel better.”
“Let me know if you need anything. Oh, and come by tomorrow around noon! I wanna know what you and Ellie are gonna talk about tonight.”
You said nothing to Dina, spinning around to leave. As you walked out, you could see through the window that Ellie was at Dina’s table, leaned over and talking to her. You turned away and sped up so you could get home quickly. 
-
You stood at the mirror on your door, looking up and down at your outfit. You wore your normal baggy clothes so Ellie wouldn’t get any ideas when you went over to talk to her. You grabbed your coat as you exited the door and headed down the steps. Ellie was just two blocks over but you knew you would be freezing to death before you got there. You shoved the jacket on and started walking down the road, your thoughts running rampant as you figured out what’d you say. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way Ellie looked at Cat as they spoke. The more you thought about it, the more you thought about the way Ellie looked in your eyes as she hovered over you. You got close to Ellie’s home and shook those thoughts away, mumbling a quick prayer to yourself so you would stay strong and stay on track.
You knocked on Ellie’s door and waited for her to open it. You heard shuffling inside and then the knob turned, revealing Ellie in a tank top and jeans. You looked down at her exposed tattoo then back up at her face. She wore a shit-eating grin as she stepped aside to let you in. You brushed past her, throwing yourself on her couch in irritation.
“What’s wrong?” asked Ellie, coming to sit next to you. “Mad that I didn’t say hi earlier? Is that it?”
You scooted away from her and refused to look at her. “No,” you muttered.
“Aw, talk to me, pretty girl.” 
She reached out to grab your thigh but you smacked her hand away. You stood up and towered over Ellie, glaring at her sweet face. “I-I came here originally to tell you that maybe we shouldn’t have sex again!” you declared. Ellie leaned back, an amused look on her face. “I told myself that I would wait for marriage. My virginity was important to me, Ellie.”
“So… you’re upset that you had sex before being married?” questioned Ellie, still looking entertained about what you were saying.
“I was at first! I prayed and cried, begging God to forgive me. Mostly prayed that He’d forgive me for blaspheming Him. But now I feel stupid for losing my virginity to you,” you explained bitterly.
Ellie frowned. “You didn’t enjoy last night?” she asked in a mocking tone.
“You don’t want me. You’re talking to Cat again! And I’m angry that I was a fool to think you really wanted me. You just wanted in my pants so that you could say you made the good Christian girl go back on her morals, made her give herself to you completely! Just another thing to brag to your friends about.”
Ellie broke out into laughter. “This is about me having lunch with Cat?” She almost couldn’t believe it. You were jealous and assuming something was going on between her and Cat all because you saw them two together.
“Well, you’re sleeping with her again aren’t you?”
“No,” Ellie scoffed. “Who put that idea in your head anyway? Dina?”
“When I left the party, what happened?”
Ellie felt like she was being tested. She hated feeling that way. She only fucked you once and you were already testing her as if you two were in a relationship.
“Cat came by and we talked,” Ellie replied honestly.
“Dina said y’all left the party for a couple minutes.”
“Exactly! I wouldn’t even say a couple minutes, it was probably less than a minute.”
“What did she want?”
“Really? Why does it matter?”
“I can’t sleep with you if you’re sleeping with her too,” you said.
“You’re gonna feel really stupid when I tell you why we met up today.”
You groaned, frustrated that Ellie was making you feel this way. You wished you ghosted her instead. If she wanted her ex, fine. But she was an idiot to think she could still fuck you on the side.
“She wanted advice on how to ask out the girl she’s been seeing.”
Ellie watched as your face turned red in embarrassment.
“You feel stupid, huh?” she teased, smirking at your mortified expression.
“Don’t,” you scolded. “Don’t even… don’t go back to that or I’ll leave.”
“I’m not being mean, baby. I’m stating a fact. C’mere… I know you’re sorry. I forgive you.”
You walked over to her, your knees almost touching hers as she sat up and brushed her fingers along your arms.
“I like that you were jealous. I like that you felt dumb for assuming shit. That’s all you are, my dumb puppy,” she spoke in a low raspy voice. She actually didn’t enjoy that you had gotten jealous. All you were to her was a fucktoy. Jealousy ruins her fun. Ellie decided to let it slide for the night, wanting nothing more than to fuck you until all you can say is a string of apologies for thinking bad of her.
You pulled your arms away, sighing at the loss of her touch but wanting to stand your ground.
“I am sorry, Ellie. But it doesn’t change the fact that we shouldn’t have sex anymore. I wanted to wait until marriage and I want to wait until marriage to have sex again. I messed up once and it’s okay but I cannot sin this way again.”
Ellie hummed, her finger lifting up your shirt slightly to stick it in the hem of your jeans. She slid it across your skin, looking up as your breathing got faster.
“But it felt so good to sin, didn’t it, baby?” she cooed.
“I refuse to confess that to you. God has already forgiven me. I mean it.”
“Then make me stop.”
Ellie started to unbutton your pants, sliding them down around your ankles. She chuckled at the sight of your soaked panties. “You want this as much as I do,” she taunted.
You watched as she pulled them back up. “But if you really don’t want to… well, I won’t make you. But it makes me sad. I had so much planned for tonight.”
You fought with yourself internally as a part of you was desperate for her to take them off again and touch you. You hadn’t moved an inch, not even to button your jeans up. They were falling down slowly, too slow for your liking.
You knew it was wrong but decided it would be okay. All of your friends do it and they’re good people. You truly believed that there was no way that they would go to hell for having sex. They were the best friends you ever had. You never judged them for it so why would they judge you?
You hesitated before you spoke up. “W-What did you have planned?”
Ellie smirked devilishly. She knew you’d give in if she made you feel bad about it. While she realized it was wrong, she didn’t care because things were going her way.
“Follow me,” she demanded. She stood up and you walked after her, feeling nervous but in a good way. Ellie stepped inside her room and you admired the walls. There were so many posters and trinkets scattered over her dressers. In one corner of the room, she had a desk with papers all over it and a guitar next to it. Ellie was digging through her closet as you inched closer to read the papers. Before you could pick one up, Ellie dropped something which startled you. You spun around to see her eyeing you closely. She had thrown something back in the closet on purpose to gain your attention. She shook her head no, her eyes squinted into a glare. You backed away from her desk, choosing to sit on the bed instead.
“Atta girl,” Ellie complimented. She made her way over to the bed with a box. She placed it in front of you on the floor and you peeked in, gasping. 
“You’re gonna use all of that on me?”
She chuckled. “No, I want you to pick.”
“To put inside me?”
“For me to wear so I can fuck you properly,” she explained, her voice soft and almost condescending. She knew you had no idea what she meant and how she was going to use it. “Do you see this? It’s a harness,” she continued, holding it up to show you. “I wear it over my boxers and I’ll have whichever one you pick attached to it.”
You looked back in the box and started going through it, picking up different ones and making a face before putting it back in. “These are too big, Ellie,” you admitted. “I think it’ll hurt too much.”
“It’s supposed to hurt the first time, honey. Do you want me to take out the smallest one I have?”
You nodded and slid the box over to her. She reached in and grabbed one, passing it over to you. “It’s five and a half inches long,” she said. “Pretty average. Thick enough but not too thick. Is this okay?”
“It’s okay. Please be gentle, though,” you begged.
“What, you really think I’d be rough on you? I’m not gonna do that until you’re used to it, dummy. I’ll be real slow and gentle until you say otherwise. Although, I’ll probably keep it slow. Not sure if you deserve to be fucked hard. You did come in here accusing me of bullshit earlier.”
You pouted at Ellie, feeling that it was unfair for her to bring it up. Your pout went away though as you watched her take her shirt off. Your eyes followed her hands as she slowly unbuckled her belt and pulled it out of the loops. She shoved her jeans off and stepped out of them. Ellie walked over to you, smirking as you stared at her in awe. “Give it,” she whispered. You handed her the dildo. “Take off your clothes, pup. You wanna be ready for me once this is put together, don’t you?”
You obliged, standing up to discard your clothes as fast as you could. Ellie laughed softly at your desperation. You were completely naked by the time the strap was ready. Ellie stepped closer to you as you pushed yourself further up on the bed. You laid back on the pillow, Ellie now hovering over you. “Such a needy girl,” she murmured. “You’re so desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Ellie,” you breathed. She looked down at your pussy, gliding her fingers along your thighs.
“I could touch you,” she began. “But do you really deserve that?”
“Y-You bullied me for years, Els, do you deserve to fuck me?” you said slightly above a whisper. You realized what you had said as Ellie’s face twisted into an expression of annoyance. “I-I didn’t mean it-”
“You meant it,” she interrupted. “You want to be a brat now baby? Now you really have to prove how sorry you are.”
“I am sorry!” you whined. You reached up to touch her but she smacked your hand away.
“I’m pissed because I can’t fuck you how I want to. If you continue to act like a brat by the time you’re adjusted to my cock, I’ll fuck the attitude right out of you. I’ll make a mess of you. A braindead little bitch with an aching cunt, crying because I won’t let you cum no matter how much you beg. Got it?”
You nodded, her threats turning you on even more. You liked when she called you a good girl but you also enjoyed the side of her that was angry with you. You couldn’t wait until you got used to getting fucked with a strap so that she could do whatever she wanted with you.
“Use your words,” she demanded.
“I got it, Ellie.”
“Good girl. You want me to continue?”
“Yes please,” you answered.
“God, you’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” said Ellie, going back to being soft and sweet with you. She began to press the tip of her dick to your clit, a soft gasp escaping your lips. “Does that feel good, pup?”
“Mhm!” you moaned in agreement. “S’ good, Ellie!”
“Do you want more or do you want me to put it in?”
“In,” you responded eagerly. 
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“If you need me to stop or go slower or anything like that, tell me,” she said as she lined her cock up with your entrance. “Are you ready?”
You nodded. Ellie leaned closer so that her face was right in front of yours to watch your reaction. She slowly pushed into you, making you yelp in pain.
“Sh, just like that baby,” Ellie whispered in a raspy voice. “It’s okay. You can take it.”
Ellie kept it inside you for a few seconds so you could adjust to the feeling before she started to thrust into you gently. You whined in both pain and pleasure, loving the feeling of Ellie’s strap inside of you.
“Good girl, you’re taking it so well.”
Ellie kissed you softly as you wrapped your arms around her. Your nails dug into her back, scratching her with every thrust. Ellie rolled her hips at a steady pace, talking you through it until you reached down and tugged at her waist.
“You want more baby?”
“Please, go harder.”
Ellie went harder but still kept the slow pace, watching as your eyes squeezed shut from how good it felt. “Fuck,” Ellie moaned, the sound of your wet pussy making her throb. “You feel good, pup? Is your cunt adjusting well to my cock? Hm?”
“Yes,” you whimpered. “I-I want you to go-to go faster, Els. Please!”
Ellie grinned at your pleading and sped up, hitting all the right spots inside of you. You moaned louder, gripping Ellie’s shoulders and crying out her name.
“Yeah? You like that, honey? Tell me how good it feels,” said Ellie between grunts.
“Fuck it feels s-so good! I’m about to cum, please let me cum!” you begged.
“Such a good little slut, asking for permission. Cum for me like the good girl you are, my good girl,” Ellie growled.
She plunged deeper into you and faster, watching your face as you squealed and whined. Your orgasm took over your body, making you scream out Ellie’s name. Ellie slowed down as you trembled beneath her.
“Atta girl,” she praised. 
She pulled out of you and laid back on the bed beside you, turning on her side to watch you catch your breath.
“Was that okay? Did I hurt you?”
You looked over at her and shook your head. “It stung at first but I got used to it. It felt really good,” you uttered between breaths.
“Good, I got a bit too carried away at the end but you seemed to enjoy it.”
You giggled. “Yeah, I did like it when you were rougher.”
“Noted,” Ellie said as she reached over to her drawer, opening it and pulling out an already rolled blunt. She lit it up and offered it to you but you declined.
“I can barely think, Ellie.”
Ellie shrugged and puffed on it, blowing it out away from you. “Suit yourself, doll.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Ellie nodded. “I was wondering… if maybe you could teach me how to touch you?”
“No,” Ellie said almost too quickly. “I can get myself off when you leave. You can stay until I finish this.”
“Oh, I’m not staying the night?”
Ellie shook her head no. You sighed, realizing that you had to walk home with weak legs.
“Why won’t you teach me?” 
“Teach you what?”
“Um, teach me how to touch you? I don’t think it’s fair I cum and you don’t,” you stated.
“I don’t do that unless I’m in a relationship with that person.”
“Well, something will come out of this probably so you might as well show me now!” you said as you laughed. You saw the confused expression Ellie made, your smile faltering. “I mean, it is going to, isn’t it?”
“It’s going to what?”
You sighed in frustration, getting mad that Ellie was playing dumb. You knew her better than that. Ellie was a smart girl but would fight her way out of admitting something she didn’t want to. You raised up and grabbed your clothes, suddenly feeling embarrassed and nauseous. “I feel so stupid,” you whispered to yourself. “I should just go.”
“Hey, I want you to stay until I finish my joint so I can walk you out.”
“Such a gentleman, Ellie,” you spat back sarcastically.
“What was that? Did I not just let you cum on my cock after you insulted me earlier? I wasn’t going to let you but I did out of kindness. You should watch your tone with me, church girl, because I won’t be so nice next time.”
“You’re fucking me but don’t plan on having anything with me at some point?” you asked as you stood up. You tumbled a bit due to how shaky your legs were but you tried your best to not let it show. “You could’ve told me.”
Ellie scoffed. “I’m just havin’ fun. I didn’t realize you would want this to be a relationship.”
“I assumed you knew because of how I am. I’m a Christian who dates to marry,” you argued.
“Right, just like you assumed I was fucking Cat again all because you saw us sitting together. Relax, I don’t know where this will go. I like fucking you and I plan on fucking you as often as I can. Not if you’re gonna let your feelings get in the way, though.”
You rolled your eyes and started to get dressed. Ellie continued to smoke her joint while she observed you. “I already know you’re gonna say this is the last time,” Ellie continued. “But you’ll come back. I know you will. I think you need me.”
“What I need is to go home and sleep. I also need you to leave me alone,” you mumbled.
“When I show up to your door tomorrow night, are you really gonna turn me away?”
“Bye, Ellie,” you said as you started to walk away.
“Wait,” Ellie stood up and put her joint out. She slid out of the harness and threw it on the bed, grabbing her tank top and shoving it on as she chased after you. You were almost at the door when she jogged in front of you, opening it for you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, pup,” she said in a teasing tone.
“Fuck you.”
You walked out, Ellie still at the door to watch you go. “You’re gonna regret that tomorrow!”
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astralis-ortus · 8 months ago
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game for two
✱ husband!bc × gn!reader
— guess who just got his old yearbook in the mail?
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w.count → 0.8k genre → fluff, married life!au, non-idol!chan warnings → minor cussing (light hearted context), chan referred to as chris ⋆ see masterlist
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coming home from work, you’re usually greeted with one of the following­—an empty house, a soft reverberating beat from the small, cozy studio located at one end of your home, or a soft snore while some romance movie thickens its plot on the screen of your neatly mounted tv.
a view of your husband with a stack of books on his lap, however, was not exactly something you would ever have in your bingo card.
“whatcha up to?” became your follow up question after chris’ quick how-was-your-day debrief. it didn’t take you long before promptly securing the spot next to your husband, where he—judging from the way your ivory-colored couch emanates heat—had been hanging around on for quite some time now. “i don’t think i’ve seen those books before.”
“mm, just got them in the mail today,” chris hummed, an arm swiftly encaged your figure as he attempts wrap you in his warmth, “mum and dad found these in the attic while they were clearing out the house. thought would be better to keep these here than to fill up space in their new home.”
it only took you a second to realize what kind of book your husband has been flipping through when a familiar-yet-way-younger-looking dimpled smile came into view, eternally captured in the printed sheet. “oh! baby chris!”
“good lord,” a chuckle ignited from the depth of his chest, ones that always pair with the soft crinkles near his eyes and sometimes a nuzzle to your hair when he couldn’t stand the adoration bubbling in his heart, “i was an angsty, moody teenager there, not a baby.”
“sure, whatever you say, baby,” you teased, emphasizing the word as you stole the perfectly conditioned yearbook from his hands. you’ve seen countless of chris’ teenager years' pictures, sure, but what harm could it bring to have a peek at more?
chris comically let out a sigh as he rolled his eyes—a signature telltale of his attempt to ‘look’ annoyed. “you’d really be in a huge trouble if you call an angsty teenager a baby, you know.”
“i don’t, actually,” eyeing the faint playful glint in chris’ eyes, you decided to lure him into a game. after all, what’s a more fun way to spend your evening than to bicker with your husband? “what would this-” you pointed at his half-heartedly grinning self of the past, “-angsty teenager do if teenager me called him a baby?”
another set of chuckles escapes him—ones louder, which, more often than not, indicates his approval of the arena you’ve built.
he’s in the game.
“well, for starters,” chris tilted his head, quite obviously setting himself to get a full view of your reaction just by gauging the godawfully attractive smirk he got etched on his lips, “i’d probably…”
“…probably?”
his way of building suspense will one day definitely be the death of you. really. if you were honest to yourself, you would actually rather kiss that damned smirk off his face right now—but the game has just started, and you’d hate to lose to your husband on your own little trick.
only… would he even let you win?
“well…” shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, chris continued,
”i’d probably tell you to fuck off.”
the way your grin transformed into a face of utter disbelief was enough of a trigger to fill the room with echoes of chris’ laugh, filling the space with the kind of warmth you’ve only known after you met him. for now, however, you feel like you’ve been betrayed.
“that’s rude!” you huffed, incredulous. though arms are now completely folded in front of your chest, chris knew you’d still let him push more of your buttons; otherwise, why would you still melt into him?
“i’m your future wife! how could you tell me to fuck off?”
“in his defense, he didn’t know that!” he countered, wiping a stray tear which had involuntarily escaped while he was celebrating his first strike. "he was just a kid who thought the world in general was a mean ol' crone, so he just, you know, returned the energy."
"meeting you, however," setting his yearbooks aside, chris then took the chance to entrap you in his arms, "has changed my view about the world—for the better—and i owe you my life for that."
you've been speculating that there's something going on about chris' voice—is he a siren? or is he actually a highly skilled mage? how is it that his voice alone has never failed to untangle every single jumbled up knots under your skin?
or maybe, just maybe, the problem is you—because unknowingly, somewhere along the way, chris had long become your achilles heels.
"...shut up, christopher."
"aw- look at your ear! they're burning!"
"shut up!"
"heh- i love you too, baby."
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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coff33andb00ks · 6 months ago
Text
Until You - Part Three
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four charles leclerc x female pop singer!reader x oscar piastri f1 smau with intermittent scenes
Summary: they drive vroom vrooms, she sings soulful tunes. there's no way in hell this is gonna work, right?
Warnings: language, smut (18+ only)
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ynyln has added to their story
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[caption: local guide gets lost / best guide ever / fun fact: Oscar sings when he's taking pictures of someone]
"This is so beautiful," y/n said once she'd made her way back to Oscar. She couldn't stop looking out at the view. "If I lived here I'd want to come up here every day."
Oscar chuckled, nodding as he handed her phone back to her. "I moved here recently and the other day was my first time coming up here. I think it's gonna become a regular thing, though."
"I bet it's gorgeous at sunset."
He nodded, sipping his water. "Have you seen the sunset over the water yet?"
"Not yet. Is it nice?" Spreading her jacket on the rock, she sat down, wanting to enjoy the peace and quiet for as long as possible.
Oscar hummed, sitting near her. "It's quite lovely."
"I'll make sure to see it before I go." She wondered if he would want to see it with her. If she was stupid for thinking there was some sort of connection between them.
"Maybe we can see it together." He looked surprised that the words had come from him, and she was further charmed by the faint blush staining his cheeks.
"It's a date," she said softly.
He sighed, and she felt the weight of it roll away from him. Propping his arms on his knees, he cleared his throat. "I'd like that."
"You like being away from it all, don't you?" she asked suddenly, unintentionally mirroring his posture. Resting her cheek on her arm, she watched his face as he considered the question.
"I like peace and quiet occasionally. To remind me of who I am." He shrugged.
"Me, too." She looked out at the sea.
"Do you get to get away from it all? Ever?"
"Not as much as I'd like," she admitted. "I love my life, Oscar, I do. I love that I'm blessed and privileged enough to be able to do something I love and see the world while doing it. And I get a high that can't be matched when I'm able to stop singing and hear words I wrote sung back to me by thousands of people. But I sometimes feel like I always have to be 'on' you know? Like—"
"Like you can't be yourself, or worse, losing who you truly are," he finished.
"Exactly," she whispered. "And for two years I was under even more scrutiny."
"Were you miserable the whole time?"
"Not at first. I think it was a year ago that I realized we were just pretending. In my heart and head I broke up with him then, and that's where a lot of my angsty songs came from for this tour." She sighed. "But you don't want to hear—"
"I do," he promised gently. "Rolling in the Deep?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Wrote it after we had a fight where he threatened to leak my nudes."
"Christ," Oscar groaned. "Anti-Hero?"
"All things he said were wrong with me."
He shook his head, looking out to the sea. "What a fucking cunt."
"It doesn't hurt as much as it did," she admitted.
"It made for some great music, but I'm truly sorry you had to go through that," he said. "No one deserves that."
"Thank you." She watched him watch the city beneath them. "Why do you have to be reminded of who you are?"
"Same as you I reckon. I'm able to do something I love and see the world and I'm so grateful for that, but… Sometimes I feel like it's a dream and it's all gonna be snatched away." He looked at her. "Youngest driver on the grid and all, you know? And I started later than everyone else, so sometimes I worry that I don't have enough experience."
"Like you're faking it," she guessed.
"Exactly. And I'm under scrutiny because of my age, because I did so much before getting here, and…" He sighed, shrugging slightly. "What if I don't meet expectations?"
"So you still think you have to prove yourself?"
"I don't think, I know I do. I haven't had a win yet. The sprint, but that doesn't count. I'm only ever right behind."
"You'll get there."
"You think?" he asked.
"No, I know you will."
They sat in silence for several moments, and she was aware of the time quickly slipping away. Far below she could see Monaco coming to life for the day and clung to the peace on this little mountaintop.
"Who did you write Enchanted for?" he asked.
Her heart thrummed violently in her chest and she followed a boat with her eyes as it pulled into the harbor. "Someone special."
"Ah."
"Has there ever been anyone you admired? That you didn't know but you knew of and you built them up in your mind?"
"…Yeah."
She could feel his eyes on her but she kept her gaze on the harbor. "He's that for me. And I was worried that it would be like it sometimes is, where I'd meet him and it would be a letdown. But… It wasn't. I was… Enchanted. And I'm only more so every time I see him."
"Does he know?"
"I hope he does," she whispered.
"He sounds like a lucky guy."
"I don't think he thinks he's lucky. Pretty sure he thinks he's worried he won't meet expectations," she murmured.
He was silent for eleven seconds. Y/n knew because she counted them, each one feeling like an hour. And then… "What about Charles?"
"He's enchanting too, but in a different way."
"Y/n?"
She swallowed hard and slowly turned her head to look at him.
"I built you up in my mind, too."
"Was it a letdown?" she asked, too scared of his answer to exhale.
"I wouldn't be here if it was," he said in a rush.
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She awoke as soon as his alarm started. Behind her he sighed, pressing his face tighter against her neck. When she reached for his phone he groaned, catching her hand and holding it to her chest. "Charles… Time to get up."
"No," he sighed.
"It's quali day," she enticed, slipping her hand free and stretching to silence the alarm. He didn't budge and she laughed softly.
"I like it right here."
She was still a little surprised that he hadn't even attempted to have sex the night before. After their talk he'd kissed her sweetly then given her one of his shirts to change into. Then, he'd held her. He was still holding her, as he had all night.
"Ten more minutes?" he whispered.
Y/n nodded, because she did love the comfort of being in his arms. She contemplated setting a timer just in case they went back to sleep, but felt his lips against her skin and understood he didn't want ten minutes more of sleep. His hand slid down and he huffed softly when he felt Leo curled up in front of him.
"Five seconds," he murmured against her shoulder, and she could only giggle softly as he sat up, smoothly pulling Leo from her and sliding out of bed.
She rolled onto her back to stretch, squealing when he was almost immediately returning, lying over her and catching her in a gentle kiss. Stretching her arms above her head, she arched then reached to help him shove the covers away. "Charles," she gasped, legs falling open for him.
He nuzzled her neck with a soft groan, pulling back and leaning away to yank open the nightstand drawer. He was back in seconds, drawing her into a series of kisses that had her growing warm. His fingers trailed down her sides then back up, sliding his shirt up, pulling away long enough to slip it over her head. "Si belle, mon amour."
His hands were everywhere, making it impossible for her to focus on them as they stirred and spread heat, lips meeting hers again when a hand slipped between them. She tried to mirror his touches, felt his cock pressing against her thigh while his fingers traced her slit.
Deepening the kiss, he shifted, slipping the condom into her hand then bracing his hand beside them. His fingers teased briefly and he chuckled breathlessly, lips moving to her ear as he rubbed along her slit, working up to her clit. "So sensible," he whispered after she cried out softly.
"Sensible… Sensitive?" she whispered, her meager French falling apart as his fingers worked her clit so expertly.
"Oui… Une si bonne fille." He nipped at her earlobe and she felt him smile while her hips lifted, pushing tighter against his fingers. Her body flooded with heat and he moved his fingers harder, moaning the words over and over as the wet sounds grew louder.
"Don't stop," she panicked when she felt him leaning back. He gently shushed her, fingers hard and fast on her clit, licking his lips as he looked down. "Fuck, Charles—"
"Yes, ma bonne fille," he encouraged. "Cum for me, hm? Let me hear you."
She was almost ashamed of how quickly she came once he said the words, her hips lifting off the bed as she screamed for him. His fingers eased while she trembled, then slid away, his hand gently gripping her hip. One breathless kiss later his hand slid over hers and she hummed, reaching to help him put on the condom.
There was a brief fumbling as he settled between her legs, his hands running up and down her legs. He breathed in to speak, but she only heard Leo's soft whine from outside the bedroom door. Charles exhaled harshly, head dropping to her shoulder when she giggled. "Fuck, Leo."
"Sorry," she kept giggling, tangling her fingers in his hair.
"Will your Oscar be jealous too?" he murmured, and her laughter stopped at once.
"He's not my—" She gasped, head falling back, as he entered her.
"I don't mind sharing." He spoke directly against her ear, hands gentle on her thighs, fucking her slow.
"Really?" She was surprised but wasn't, and she wished he'd told her this when he wasn't buried inside her, because that made it a little hard to think properly.
"Yes, mon couer," he moaned, lips pressed to her ear. His hands gripped her thighs tightly as she arched and whined, his lips dragging down her neck when she threw her head back.
"Charles," she gasped, tightening her hold on his hair. He lifted his head, chuckling softly as he leaned to meet her lips with his.
"Again, amour." One hand shot up, gently cupping her throat as he thrust harder.
"Oh my god," she squealed, digging her nails in his back.
"Is good?' he whispered and when she gasped out a yes he kissed her deeply, swallowing her cries. The world seemed to stand still while his lips and tongue worked hers with perfection, thick moans rising up his throat. Her hands moved up and she mirrored the tenderness he was showing her, lightly running her fingers up the back of his head, other hand gently cradling his cheek. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let out a sharp cry as she came. And could only gasp into his mouth, hands trembling, as he came a few moments later.
Finally she recognized the ringing in her ears as her phone going off with texts. Groaning, she tried to focus Charles and his sweet kisses, pouting a little when he pulled out.
"You are too popular to have your ringer on," he teased, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and setting it next to her. "Tell her we're getting ready."
She nodded, stretching and humming before picking up her phone. Like him, she assumed the texts were from her assistant. Unlocking the phone, she sighed as Charles stayed over her after throwing away his condom. He must have felt her tense when she read the texts, because he made a questioning hum, sitting upright.
"Not y/bff/n?" he asked.
She sighed, turning the phone so he could read the texts. He scoffed, muttering rapidly under his breath in French and Italian and though she wasn't sure what the Italian was she knew the French and agreed with him calling her ex a crybaby bitch.
"Send him a photo."
About to block the asshole, she stopped, staring up at him. "What?"
"Send him a photo, mon couer."
Without thinking, she snapped a picture of Charles, enjoying his warm laugh while she cropped it and sent it to Justin. She showed it to him and he only laughed harder.
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ynyln
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Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others
ynyln: I'm at the age I can date you or your dad 💋 📷: charles_leclerc
↳landonorris: is this some secret lyric I don't know?            ↳ ynyln: not everything is a lyric, lando            ↳landonorris: it usually is with you            ↳ ynyln: I'm not that bad ↳landonorris: great photo by the way ↳ynyln: thank you sweetie ↳oscarpiastri: amazing shot. Glad you got to see the sunset. Did dad scare you on the yacht?            ↳ynyln: no he was very careful. You were right, it was quite lovely. You'll have to come with us next time            ↳charles_leclerc: you're always welcome            ↳oscarpiastri: it's a date            ↳user3: wtf is going on am I the only one who's confused ↳charles_leclerc: can you?            ↳ynyln: depends on the dad            ↳landonorris: now I'm confused            ↳ynyln: go back to your own comment thread
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ynyln
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Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, scuderiaferrari, and others ynyln: Winning one's home race is special. It's more symbolic and emotional than all the other podiums throughout the season. Over the years I have watched grown men cry over the "hometown boy" – and shed more than a few tears myself. But this time, it was extraordinary. Congratulations, Charles. The so-called curse is broken. It was a privilege to meet you, but an honor to get to know the man behind the visor. C'est incroyable, mon amie. ❤️🤍 ↳charles_leclerc: Merci, mon beau porte-bonheur. Tu es incroyable. (liked by author)          ↳ ynyln: I'm not a lucky charm          ↳ charles_leclerc: for me you are ↳ user3: our girl's fallen again 🥺 ↳ oscarpiastri: so incredibly proud of dad           ↳ ynyln: he's proud of you too           ↳ user6: wait what if her post about "you and your dad" was about oscar and charles?            ↳ user7: ok grandma let's get you back in bed
ynyln
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, charles_leclerc, and others ynyln: My favorite driver has become one of my favorite people. Your drive and passion are inspiring. You are amazing and I hope you know how proud Team Piastri is of you today. My tears were just as much for you as that other guy. Thank you for letting me tag along and annoy you with my singing and bad jokes. Pain au chocolates on me tomorrow. (Maybe no hike though?) 🧡🧡
↳ oscarpiastri: You're one of my favorite people, too. And I'll always say yes to pain au chocolate with you. 🧡      ↳ynyln: Ergo I'm blushing ↳landonorris: Team Piastri?? 😒      ↳ynyln: Don't be jealous ↳mclaren: Your paddock passes for Canada are being delivered tomorrow     ↳ ynyln: 🙏🏻 ↳charles_leclerc: that other guy is proud of him too     ↳ ynyln: ur boy did good 🥹
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ynyln
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liked by georgerussel63, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and others ynyln: Some favorite photos from Monaco week. Amazing doesn't cover it. Thank you, scuderiaferrari, for welcoming me into your fold this week. This week healed me in ways I will never be able to describe. Tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris, georgerussel63, lewishamilton
↳scuderiaferrari: You are always welcome to our garage, YN. Truly an honor making your wish come true! ↳landonorris: I'm tagged but there's no photo of me?      ↳ynyln: um you're in the pic with Oscar?      ↳landonorris: you mean my hand??      ↳ynyln: Fine, I'll post the pics I got of you sleeping.      ↳landonorris: No!      ↳mclaren: YES ↳oscarpiastri: It was enchanting to meet you      ↳ynyln: I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home      ↳user3: WHAT      ↳oscarpiastri: This was the very first page, not where our storyline ends      ↳ynyln: My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again      ↳user4: WHAT IS GOING ON ↳georgerussel63: Blimey slide 3 is a good photo      ↳ynyln: I spent the week playing my favorite game: Formula One driver or European model? ↳lewishamilton: Lunch this week?      ↳ynyln: Only if you bring Roscoe ↳user5: the drivers really said "YN belongs to us now"|↳charles_leclerc: Monaco is lonely without you. Revient bientôt, chérie.      ↳ynyln: compter les jours      ↳user4: oh he's down BAD
oscarpiastri has added to their story
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[caption: miss you already] replies: ↳landonorris: um mate? ↳ynyln: i'm literally right beside you ↳mclaren: delete immediately [story no longer available]
charles_leclerc has added to their story
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[caption: ❤️❤️❤️] replies: ↳ynyln: stop i'm gonna cry - when did you take this?? ↳scuderiaferrari: you have to delete this      ↳charles_leclerc: No ↳maxverstappen1: why does everyone have sexual pictures of her?      ↳charles_leclerc: because we are lucky
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Taglist:
@lichterfee | @formulaal | @a-beaverhausen | @dullypully | @wobblymug | @apollosfavkiddo | @callsignwidow | @saachiep81 | @midnights-lily | @waterlilypat | @kiwi43-81 | @fastfactory |
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rowdyluv · 7 months ago
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𝘽𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙊𝙪𝙩 · 𝙟𝙝⁸⁶
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summary: Trevor isn’t a fan of how Jack’s changed for his girlfriend.
warnings: use of y/n, kind of angsty, more fluffy, trevor being kind of a bitter friend,
word count: 1.1k
authors note: i really liked the request prompt but i struggled to write it. to the anon who requested it i hope it doesn’t let you down 🥺
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Y/n’s laughter echoed through the restaurant, a melody that seemed to seep deep into Jack's soul. He couldn't help but smile as he watched her throw her head back, revealing the small, delicate spot on her neck where he knew her pulse would be racing. He knew if he placed his lips to it just how the noise she would make would sound. Her hair, usually pulled back into a tidy bun, had come loose and now framed her face in a halo of curls. It may have been two years since they started dating, but Jack still found himself completely and utterly captivated by her.
As they finished their dinner, Trevor nudged Jack and motioned for him to follow him to the bathroom. "Look," Trevor whispered, "I know you love her and all, but she's holding you back, man. You need to live a little, go out with all of us, have some fun." Jack sighed, feeling torn. He knew that Trevor was his best friend, but he also knew how important y/n was to him. He didn't want to lose her, no he couldn’t lose her, but he didn't want to miss out on all the adventures he could still be having with his friends.
"Why don't you come out with us anymore?" Trevor asked bluntly. "You used to be the life of the party. Now you're just...different." Jack hung his head, unsure how to respond. "I just want you to be happy, man. I really think you're making a mistake by staying with her." Trevor opened the bathroom door and walked back towards the tables. It was purely happen chance he was even here and Jack was too. Trevor on a date while Jack was on one too.
The two boys returned to their respective tables, Jack couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in tightly churning in his gut. Trevor was on to something; he did miss going out with all their friends and having their crazy adventures. But y/n was everything to him. She made him feel loved in ways he had never experienced and supported him in everything he did. It may have only been two years, but Jack couldn't imagine his life without her now. He knew he couldn't continue like this, though. Something had to give.
That night after dinner, as the two walked hand in hand through the park, Jack managed to gather up the courage to confront his new worries with y/n. "Hey, there's something I want to talk to you about," he said, his voice barely registering over the children still playing on the playground. Y/n stopped and turned to face him, her eyes instantly filled with concern. "What's wrong, Jack?"
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I love you, y/n. I love you so much. You know that. But I feel like I'm missing out on a lot with my friends. I want to be able to spend time with them like I used to." He looked down at his girlfriend who drew in and chewed on her lower lip, clearly being hurt by his words.
"Jackie, I thought we had talked about this.. I thought you trusted me enough to know that I would never stand in the way of your friendships?. If anything, I want you to have them in your life more. You are my life, today, tomorrow, hopefully next week and further, but I want you to have a life outside of me too. I love you more than you probably think I do, but that doesn’t mean we always have to be together.” Y/n told the sweet boy standing before her. He was awestruck while she was speaking.
He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for any hint of deception. An action he instantly felt guilty for. He should’ve never let his friends inside his head. Seeing nothing but sincerity, he exhaled slowly.
"I guess I just... I just need to find a balance, huh?" She nodded, wrapping her arms around him. "I'll always be here for you, jackie. And I want you to know that I understand. We'll figure this out together."
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The next weekend, Jack and y/n arranged a "double date night" with Trevor and his newest girl. The four of them went to one of the local art galleries, something y/n loved to do, afterwards they went to a cozy Italian restaurant for dinner.
As they walked side by side, Jack was overcome with a sense of excitement and anticipation. Both had been building within him since the plans were made. For the first time since meeting y/n, he felt like he was truly experiencing something elating again.
The entirety of the night was filled with wholesome laughter and conversations about everything and anything, as both couples shared stories and experiences, and found common ground in their shared love for art and food. Y/n and Trevor even managed to strike up a conversation about their favorite artists and sport teams, which surprised Jack and made him smile. He had never really thought of his best friend and y/n having much in common, but it seemed like tonight was proving him wrong.
“Seems you picked a good one Rowdy.” Trevor snickered referring to y/n. “I’m glad you changed your mind about her Zegras. But I didn’t just pick a good one, I picked the best one. At least for me.” Jack was smitten with her and Trevor fake gagged. Earning himself a laugh from all of them.
While they finished their meals and sipped on their respective drinks, the atmosphere in the restaurant shifted ever so slightly. The lights were dimmed, and a soft, romantic medley filled the room. Jack caught y/n glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, an expanse flush of warmth spread through his chest.
In that moment, Jack realized that this was exactly what he needed: a balance between his relationship with her and his friendship. He didn't have to choose between them anymore.
As the music continued, Trevor and his date excused themselves to the dance floor, leaving Jack and y/n with a moment to themselves. She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling practically screaming out her love for him and Jack himself was flooded with a rush of his affection for her.
He leaned down, gently brushing his lips against hers, whispering a quick intimate “i love you”. He placed another kiss on her lips, meant to be soft and innocent but as their kiss deepened, the warm, content feeling of love and happiness spread throughout both of them.
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The rest of the night flew by in a blur of conversation, laughter, and dancing. They all truly seemed to enjoy each other's company, and Jack couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected gift. As the night drew to a close, they agreed to get together again in the coming weeks. Trevor and Jack said their goodbyes before everyone went their separate ways.
“Y/n?” Jack called out softly from beside her. She glanced up at him, as if to ask him ‘what?’ “Thank you for tonight. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. For us.” She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. “I love you, I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you but I hope I keep staying lucky.” Jack brought her hand up to his lips placing a quick kiss to the top of it.
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vinelark · 29 days ago
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I've been going through ur fic recs and after binging through "A Meditation On Railroading" and "The Long Way Home", I'm now obsessed with Jason and Tim. Something about hating each other but not really, all the bad blood and hurt and still becoming brothers bc how couldn't they
I wanted to ask if you know any other fics that are about them?
Thanks! :)
i had to make a real effort to keep this (relatively) short or it would just be hundreds of fics long. here is a very incomplete list of old favs and recent reads! i've definitely rec'd some of them already, but i think others are new to my fic rec tag.   you already mentioned a meditation on railroading and the long way home; i’m linking them again here for anyone else who wants them, because they are two of my favs and would kick off this list if you hadn’t already read them.   robin!jason era   Brother Wanted by Vamillepudding one of the most impressive things a story can do, imo, is pull off a really believable kid/teen pov—this does it twice, for both tim and jason, and it’s one of my fav rereads.
Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by @bonesbuckleup i’ll always be reccing this one; it’s one of my favorite slow-burn hurt/comfort fics, and the tim & jason relationship in this context is very sweet + compelling as they deal with some rough edges unique to this story.
1-800-ROBIN by spqr jason volunteers for a mental health hotline, and this leads to bonding with tim. this has some incredibly tender moments and a great robin!jason pov.   red hood!jason era
cake is a four letter word by @sonosvegliato jason just wants to make a loaf of bread. then tim shows up. i love when a writer nails tim in peak Annoying Mode (❤️).
geolocation by @envysparkler i love a good forced-to-work-together oneshot, and this one gets bonus points for the sheer amount of “actions speak louder than words” going on with every single thing jason does.
Tim in a Bottle by @coyote-nebula (wip) angst and humor galore; tim and jason and their giant pile of unresolved issues all get locked in a walk-in freezer together. need i go on?
the trolley problem by @silk-scarlet-ribbons this is—i say with full appreciation—an absolute pangfest. jason is taken by an enemy, and that enemy has kidnapped a "random civilian" (you guessed it: tim) for leverage to get jason to do what they want. (also check out requiem for the forsaken by the same author, which is the fic that finally got my best friend to start caring about robins with me.)
Short-Term Memory Loss (Leads to Long-Term Sibling) by Vamillepudding a bittersweet + hopeful story in which red hood!jason gets temporarily whammed back to robin!jason, and bonds with tim.
Say Uncle by @megaerakles an incredibly fun twist on tim’s fake uncle with layers upon layers of identity shenanigans.
of crime lords and literature by @adelfie a wonderfully angsty, plotty fic in which tim ends up in danger as himself, and—after a very rocky start—jason is somehow the one who rescues him.
unequipped by Valkirin there’s a lot of jason saving tim on this list, and this story is a delightful reversal of that trope. red hood’s in trouble, and tim shows up to bail him out.
For All The Just Alike Birds by @sunflowersandink tim breaks his arm, and jason makes it his problem. featuring some excellent begrudgingly worried jason pov!
alternate universe
clean it like you mean it by @wynterstars (wip) i adore this jason-joins-the-family late AU; the central robin!tim & sort-of-civilian!jason dynamic is so compelling. marked as a wip, but currently leaves off in a very satisfying place!
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astralnymphh · 3 months ago
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𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐊𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑! ★
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content: prodigy!abby x nerdy!reader, childhood friends, university-based, fluff (for now), romance + tension (little bit angsty), drabble length but switching up the small caps (experimenting. heh), mainly jotting an idea, not a certified abby expert.
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It was an absolute murder to discover that she could not fufill this one off her bucket list.
Fucking video gaming?
Exactamundo! Abby can outstand everybody in nearly anything, being everything from a virtuoso violinist, to a glorified part-time fisherman, and a damn gourmet chef as well. She paraded around the entire campus pursuing a name in every elective and Olympic hobby you could ever think of. Name it, chances are she's done it. Actually, more than done it, all things considered.
But video games? Guess the esteemed Abby Anderson had finally tumbled downhill and suffered defeat; looking you up out of all computer-smart people felt treasonous to her, but seemed high-priority to the eye of the beholder, the eyes in question even rolling. You don't need an in-person class course on fucking Skyrim. Look at the tutorials!
“So, how the hell do I shorten my speedrun times?”
None of it made a lick of sense. Well, the wanting to do speedruns part, you see the appeal in a medieval-inspired game. Speedrunning sucks the fun and the atmosphere out of a truly gorgeous game such as the forenamed. Yet, it's not like you haven't experimented in closed-world speedruns after immersing yourself in collecting all the achievements; Firewatch takes the cake.
But, still, coming to you—a forgotten, childhood friend whom she ghosted—makes no logical sense. Games are easy-peasy. Literal pieces of cake!
You scrunch your nose at the reclined blondie on your bed, confused. “Um, by watching a tutorial?” Almost laying back into a condescending tone, maybe even a little. “Did you even think to do that before knocking in the dead of night?” Her mordant, stick-up-the-ass kind does the same thing to you, so, you can gripe at that game all you desire.
“Hey,” she pouts, sounding out mock-offense. She scoots up from her prone position on the bed to face you—so proper. “Everything has more to it than what you see.” Sure, philosopher. “And there definitely is with video games. I keep losing. Besides, if I can't stomach skydiving or rock-climbing, then this is next on my list.”
“Pft—”
“What? You know I don't do heights.”
Oh, my god. “'You keep losing?'” Is she a prodigy at radical honesty?
Pond-blue eyes toss in a perfect, resentful circle. She scoffs, “Why do you think I came over here?” Complaining right hand flicking with attitude.
“I don't teach beginners.”
Your sarcasm flies not even an inch under her radar; it was always a retreat tactic back in highschool—when this imitative facade first hardened. “Oh, okay.” She bites you back with it too. But it never even occured to her that you might just be serving a tablespoon of teasery. Being old friends, having lonesome yearns, even stubborn prodigies can be painted in a rosy picture.
Still can see those young, faded freckles. Lovely ones.
“This was a mistake, wasn't it?” An unpleasant question. Drops from her lips almost wantonly.
It strains your chest cavity.
Is seeing her a mistake?
Not really. You hope not really. Once, there was a time where she was suddenly rude, dismissive and up every aspiring valedictorian's ass, but all paths lead back, you believe. Somewhere underneath that porcelain facade—and hot, rocking bod—is a clean crack in her over-achiever matrix; softness is bleeding out. You can see the beginning brooks of it like a kingly ichor. Possible smiles that aren't contemptuous.
What next, an apology?
“Can I at least.. say sorry, before going?”
Sorry—going? Fuck, you majorly zoned out. “What?” You loom in closer, throwing the one-brow raise. The proximity barely even occurs to you.
“For being a jerk, for blowing you off, ..” The list implies endlessness as her voice fades out. In a way, you expect her to pick up and continue. But, after the gestures and head-tilts, she pauses. Reinstates eye contact, pauses, and works her lips again. An awkward, prefacing breath skims. “And I guess, 'm also sorry for.. this?”
Before comprehension hits, it is too late. Darkly, a warmth brushes your cheek and a silence catches your lips, blocking your eyes out. It makes you feel blindsided, this short-lived kiss, one you suspend wide eyes for, tilt your neck for, accept without question. A strange deja vu rushes to your nape.
You shiver.
It even ends before you understand it, Abby pulling away with light-glossed eyes you swear are stones of aquamarine in disguise. She cracks; dints a smile in her cheek. Proud, anticipating. Having her this close made your inhales excessive; you needed all the air in the world to function right now. Deep breathing.
She smells like the outdoors.
Naturally.
“Good?” She has to reassure herself.
“Yeah,” you quickly spout, croak even. Wherever in the world your head is, it's not here. “Not really a prodigy at kissing, so..” And while it is somewhere, the remnants of her kiss are phantom. They have not stopped yet.
An amused chuckle greets in gusts across your lips, from your radical honesty, the moment itself, whatever. Crowns you the jokester anyways. “Guess we both have something to learn then.”
Wonder what future that comment entails.
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roosterforme · 4 months ago
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Does Jake ever have nightmares about a mission or his air-to-air kills in the Mr. Right Now Universe? If so, how do you think it goes the first time he has them when Darlin' is around?
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Jake keeps his job pretty well separated from his personal life, but there definitely comes a time when the two can't help but overlap. Naval fighter pilots have it rough when it comes to having a career that is relatable to their partner, but Darlin' always pays attention to what he says. She also knows his moods. I can imagine him returning from a mission where he has a hard time disengaging... (long and angsty ahead)
He was going through the motions. Ever since you picked him up four days ago, Jake was with you, but he still seemed so far away. You thought having him back home again would make everything better, but you found yourself constantly swallowing down a lump of apprehension when you were with him.
"Do you want more pizza?" you asked, watching the way his green eyes shifted from a faraway gaze to focus on your face.
"Yeah," he grunted, accepting the slice without another word.
He wasn't making fun of your pizza. He barely commented on the movie that he insisted he wanted to watch. Even the way he treated you in bed felt off. It was confusing, and you hated the way you were doubting yourself. Originally you thought he just needed some sleep and good food, but he was barely saying a word to you right now.
Tears burned your eyelids as you got to your feet. "Are you not happy to see me?" you asked, voice harsh and raspy.
"What?" he asked, looking up at you, finally focusing on what you were saying.
You held your arms out at your sides. "I missed you, Jake. I missed you for weeks and weeks. I poured my heart out in love letters that I sent to you, but now that you're back, it's like you're still on the aircraft carrier."
He rubbed his hands over his face, a weariness falling into place that made him seem older somehow. "Darlin'," he started, but then he went silent again.
As much as you didn't want to say it, you had to. "Did you meet someone else?"
Images of an older, more sophisticated woman filled your brain even as Jake jumped to his feet. "No! Of course not!"
His arms were around you as you started to cry in confusion. "Then why are you so quiet? Why won't you talk to me?"
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Darlin', there's nobody else. I swear. I'm just having a hard time processing things."
"What things?" you asked softly, looking up at him. When he hesitated again, you led him to the living room couch and got him snuggled beneath the fleece blanket with you. Then you turned off the lamp and ran your fingers through his hair until he was ready to talk.
"You know, I guess I'm supposed to be thrilled that I have five air-to-air kills now," he whispered, voice low and filled with sadness. "It's supposed to mean something when you're an ace. But I haven't really slept in two weeks, because I can't stop thinking about it."
"Jake," you murmured, kissing his forehead even as his arm tightened around you. "That's a lot to process. We can talk about it if you want to."
You could already feel some of the tension easing away as he whispered, "I already feel a lot better just saying it outloud to you." He let you kiss him slowly all over his face as he said, "There's nobody else. There's not going to be anybody else. I promise I'm here, Darlin'. I'm just so tired, and I can't seem to shut down and just sleep."
Without another word, you rubbed circles along his shoulder with your thumb. Soon his breathing evened out, and he was asleep. You would let him sleep as long as he could.
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tizeline · 3 months ago
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Ahhh waiiit!!! Is this some really fun like foreshadowing stuff (though we already know the foreshadowed stuff) where you put Leo and Raph facing away from Draxum to symbolise them turning on his ideals first????? And like Leo is in the shadows cause I guess he‘s really formed his own opinion about Donnie and destroying the humans while Raph doesn‘t share his beliefs but still follows him!! And Mikey is facing Draxum symbolising that he and Drax are still gonna pursue their dreams of getting rid of the humans?? Is that what this is?????✨
You're like the third person so far to point out the potential foreshadowing in this panel, which lemme tell ya, is very funny considering it was basically entirely unintentional on my part! XD
BUT!!! I am a firm believer that the audience can find meaning in a piece of art regardless of whether it was intended by the creator or not, and I'm honestly loving your analasys because dammit it works!
That being said, I drew Mikey looking to Draxum for reassurance, while Raph remains more internally contemplative because I thought it fit their personalities. Then again, their differing personalities obviously also effect their actions later on in the story when they're forced to confront their flawed ideology, so in that way this panel kinda naturally parallels their whole character arcs?
NGL, I very much threw Leo into the panel last minute haha. In the panel before, he was still sitting on the ground-
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-and the way I drew the perspective in the following panel led to Draxum blocking the view of him. But then it felt weird that he was the only one not visible so I squeezed him into the background right at the end lol (I guess he decided to stand up or whatever). As a result, he's not as clearly visible, but it does kinda work in my opinion. Both in the way that you pointed out, him being turned away from Draxum foreshadows to him turning his back on their mission. But my own thought process when drawing him this way was less metaphorical and more focused on wanting to portray Leo's current emotional state. Leo is arguably the most upset about Donnie rejecting them, which is why he after this starts acting so hostile towards his estranged brother, and while I'm not putting a ton on focus on Leo's reaction specifically in this part of the comic, I still wanted to include it. All of this is to say, Leo is standing with his back turned towards the rest of his family and obscured in shadows because he's being angsty. Lmao.
ANYWAY, that was my actual thought process while drawing this, but I want to make it clear yet again that I absolutely love that you guys are coming up with your own interpretations because fuck yeah!!!
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