#thank you for the question! I loved answering them!

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but her brother was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan admitted with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[pitchsidestories]

fight like a girl II Ona Batlle x Reader

masterlist I moodboard I word count: 2202

pairings: Ona Batlle x Reader (romantic), Barcelona Femení x Reader (platonic)

warnings: disgusting men, mentioning of blood

“Look who has finally arrived.” Jana noticed you first when you stepped into the restaurant where the Barcelona women were having dinner. She was one of the closest friends of your girlfriend Ona in the team and you couldn’t help but to smile at her.

You might be small in height, but you always left quite an impression despite that. Even though your arm muscles were hidden underneath an oversized sweater you have stolen from your lover.  

“Hi everyone, sorry for being so late.”, you apologized, nervously redoing your ponytail.

“No worries, come here.”, Ona padded on the free chair next to her, her jaw looked tense. Something about the atmosphere was off.

You wondered why but the answer to the question in your head came promptly through a man and his male friend, you could hear the alcohol loosened their tongues in a way which made the women around the table deeply uncomfortable.   

“Oh, there’s another one.”, the taller man punched playfully into his mate's side.

“Not bad either if you know what I mean.”, the smaller but bulkier wiggled his eyebrows.

“Sorry, we asked them to leave several times now.”, Alexia sighed, she’s been clearly tired by their behaviour.  

“But they didn’t listen?”, you stood up abruptly from your seat next to her girlfriend.

“Y/n.”, Ona begun concerned, trying to stop you from doing something possible very stupid.  

“Let me deal with them.”, you asked her to, looking into her worried brown doe like eyes.

“Don’t.” she shook her head determined.

“But-.” you started.

“Just ignore them.”, your girlfriend begged gently.

“Come on you just finished training you need to drink and eat something y/n.”, Mapi changed the topic smoothly.

The older defender was right, in the box ring you forgot time and almost everything else. If you were honest with you were quite hungry at this point in the evening. Yet it was so hard to ignore the men close by.

 “Oh, she’s the baby of the group? What’s your name, beautiful?”, he cooed.

“Not your fucking business.”, you shot back grumpily.

“Oh, she’s a feisty one. You know how to make yourself interesting to men, huh?”, the smaller man grinned dirtily.

“Sorry to hurt your little ego guys but I’m not interested in men at all I’m a lesbian.”, you smiled smugly as you thanked the waitress for bringing you all the drinks before taking a big gulp of your beer waiting for their response.

It was like a dance in the boxing ring, attack, waiting for the response, defending and you wanted them to leave so you could have a nice peaceful evening with friends. But the other truth was you simply loved playing a dangerous game. Some might even say you were addicted to it.

“You just haven’t had the right one yet.“, one of the men replied with a laugh.

You almost rolled your eyes. Not even a creative insult. “How many times have I heard that sentence before? But I hate to break it to you, it’s a no.“

Instinctively you reached for Onas hand under the table.

The men remained unimpressed. The taller one flashed you a toothy grin and turned towards Jana: “Fine then. I’ll just take one of your friends.“

You wanted to laugh. None of the girls would even look at a sleazy guy like him. But you knew men like that. If women didn’t want him, he would get more aggressive until he got what he thought was his. You decided to keep your eyes fixed on him.

“No, you won’t.“, you said calmly.

He snorted: “What are you going to do about it?”

That was the moment you could feel your brain go into autopilot. Anger spread through your body like a wildfire, burning hot in your stomach and your chest. Your hands curled into fists, your nails digging into your skin as you slipped from your seat. There was nothing you hated more than being underestimated.

“You should be scared.“, you said plainly.

The tall man burst into laughter: “Of you? You’re tiny!”

His laugh was like gasoline to fire, only feeding your rage.

“And you’re tall with not a lot of brain to match your height apparently!”, you snapped at him.

He considered you for a moment before he ordered: “And you only have a big mouth so sit back down!”

With a frown, you took a step towards him: “I will. If you stop harassing my girlfriend and our friends!”

“Harassing?!”, he echoed and glared at you. “What are you on about? We’re just talking to them!”

“But they’re clearly not interested.“

You got angrier with every word out of his mouth but you also got this perverse sense of pleasure out of arguing with him.

“Amor, your food has arrived.“, Ona interrupted you. Her voice was gentle and cautious.

You waved her off: “I’m not hungry right now.“

“Please.“, she asked but your focus was back on the two men.

“I’m only asking you to leave on more time.“

The first man bent down to you like an adult would do with a young child. “Or what? You’re not scary at all, little one.“, he sneered.

That was all it needed. You swung at him and struck him right in the face. There was the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking and blood dripping on the floor. You heard the gasps from the football players behind you.

“Fuck! You fucking bitch!”, he cursed under his breath. You waited for him to lunge at you but he was too busy trying to stop the bleeding.

“I warned you.“, you said cooly and shot a warning look at his friend, signalling that you were ready to break a second nose that night.

“Time to leave, girls.”, Alexia announced in her captain voice.

“Please.”, Ona muttered.

“No, she’s got to pay for this!”, the man who you didn’t injure demanded hissing.

“What? You want your nose broken too?!”, you replied shaking your head in disbelief. Alarmed your girlfriend called your name but you couldn’t help to add. “That was no coincidence. I know how to do it.”

“Yes, but they aren’t worth it.”, she whispered into your ear.  

“Everyone harassing my friends is worth it.”, you told her fiercely while her teammates and you slowly made your way out.

“These men could’ve hurt you.”, Ona remarked. There was worry swinging through her words.

“No, they couldn’t. I’m a good boxer.”, you disagreed confidently as you wrapped protectively an arm around the brunette’s shoulder.

“I know you’re, what I’m trying to say is that you don’t need to protect us.”, she explained softly.

“He deserved that broken nose though.”, Mapi commented chuckling from behind.

“See?”, you grinned triumphantly at your lover.

“Just great, Maria.”, Ona groaned in frustration.

“Good night, girls.”, the older defender said with an innocent smile on her lips as she went for Ingrids hand to start the walk to their home.

“That’s our cue to leave too. Night.”, Jana declared.

“Goodbye, text me all when your home.”, the captain of the team hugged everyone before going her own way.

“Your captain can be such a mum, Oni.”, you smirked amused. The balmy night air felt nice against your skin, it made what happened in the bar appear like a faint memory.  

It didn’t have the same effect on your girlfriend for her the scene of you hitting that man was still replaying in her mind. Alone the thought of it made her heart sank.

“If she were more of a mum, she would’ve stopped you from doing that.”, Ona objected.

“Not that again.”, you grumbled.

Once you reached the safe walls of your home the adrenaline has worn off and your fingers started to hurt which didn’t get unnoticed by the defender even though you tried your best to hide your pain from her.

“Wait, I’ll get some ice.”, Ona noted.

“I’m fine.”, you assured her quickly. Although your sayings turned out to be useless, she was already up getting something to ease your hurt.

“No, you’re not I can tell that from the look on your face.”, the brunette sounded mad, but despite that there was a tenderness in the way she took care of you despite her furiousness.

“Ona…“, you whispered quietly, in hopes to calm her down but also because you weren’t sure what to say next. Of course, she had seen right to you even when you tried to ignore the throbbing pain in your hand. Your knuckles were still red and swollen.

“Yes?”, Ona asked. Her voice was tense as she took in the damage on your hand and gently applied some ice.

You watched her hold your injured hand in the dim light, her gaze directed downwards.

Only when she looked up with an inquiring expression on her face, you remembered to speak.

“I didn’t mean to… you know? I just never know what to do with my anger.“ You bit your lip. Nothing that came out of your mouth did your feelings justice. Nothing conveyed the message enough that you weren’t malicious, you were just an angry girl. Something that people didn’t want to see for some reason.

Onas eyes softened. She sighed quietly: “I know. And you don’t need to fight all the time. We could have handled that as a group together, not just you alone. Besides I get angry too, but only on the pitch.“

“That’s different.“ You blew out a short, hard breath of frustration. That was not even remotely comparable.

Ona nodded slowly: “Yes, you’re right… still.“

“Yes. Maybe. But I’m tired, Ona. Everyone sees my anger as something bad when it’s not!”

You regretted saying it as soon as Ona looked away again.

“You need to sleep…“, she said softly.

But you both knew it was not that kind of tiredness you were talking about.

You pulled your hand away from her: “No, you don’t get it. It helped me a lot in the past!”

“You never tell me anything about that so how am I supposed to know?”, Ona asked, frowning with her jaw set.

“I was telling you now!“, you retorted, rolling your eyes in annoyance.

Ona remained calm, unfazed by your rage: “Go on.“

To your surprise, her composure seemed to rub off on you.

“Doesn’t matter anymore. All you need to know is that I’m not ashamed of my anger.“

She shook her head determinedly, clearly not ready to let you sweep that topic under the rug: “No. I want to hear everything, the whole story. You don’t have to sugarcoat anything. Plus, I want you to teach me how to box.“

You blinked at her: “Wait. You do?”

“Yes, I do.“, she replied, leaving no room for doubt.

You studied her face. She looked so serious.

You could feel your heart beat faster thinking about Ona in a boxing, just because you loved the sport, just to get to know you better.

“How about I’ll take you boxing tomorrow?”, you suggested.

Ona finally smiled: “Sure.“

“And then we can talk.“

Ona and you went early to the gym the following day, mainly because it meant that you were completely alone. The morning light streamed through the large windows and highlighted the boxing ring which stood in the centre of the room. This was the place you felt most at ease and somewhere your anger wouldn’t be judged.

You recognized how your girlfriend struggled a bit with her boxing gloves, carefully you helped her to put them on.

Curiously she looked up to you. “When did you’ve to learn to fight for yourself?”

“When I was very young. People always made sure I knew that I was very different from them.”, you confessed alone the thought of it made you shudder.

“It must have been very painful for you especially when you were so young.”, Ona replied empathetically, the defender didn’t know she wasn’t standing right.

Gently you moved her into the right stance before continuing your story.

“Yes, and then people were surprised when I got angry for being treated differently.”

A cloud moved in front of the sun and darkened the whole room.

“And the boxing ring was a place to deal with your anger?”, the defender wanted to know genuinely interested.

“Well, when we had to flee from my home country, we were feeling so helpless and I never wanted to feel like this again. That’s a story for another time.”, you explained quickly.

With a cheeky smile on your lips, you advised her. “Hands up we want to protect your pretty face.”

While you showed her the essential boxing moves, Ona stopped your movement for a moment urging you to take her all in. “No, I want the full story.”

“Alright, but it’s going to be a long one.”, you warned the brunette.

You have circled around this topic for so long it was time to face it. And two things you were certain about, one your girlfriend was strong enough to handle what you’d tell her and second you were brave enough to speak about it.

Fight like a girl wasn’t an insult to both of you it was a compliment.

[celestie0]

jujutsu kaisen fics for gaza

note: this event is now closed as donation goals have been reached!! thanks so much :”0

hi friends! i’ve been wanting to join @ficsforgaza for a while now but haven’t really had any wips or anything that could contribute, but i figured i could just provide my series chapters as “wips” to be sponsored to help drive donations :0

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kickoff ch12 & ihm ch4 are already completed so i can post these soon after goals are reached. as for “around the clock” pt2 i still have to work on it but i’m already halfway done with it!

also i will be matching 25% of the donation goals for each of the works prior to posting them!!

any contribution can help a family in gaza receive access to necessary supplies, care, food, water, as well as help mobilize them to safer areas. if you have some money to spare & would like to support, please consider donating. if you don’t have means to financially help, that’s totally okay! please consider boosting this post or boosting the vetted fundraisers under ficsforgaza’s network!

much love! let me know if you have questions

[heretherebeturtles-comic]

Hello! Many people have said this but ill say it too, I LOVE YOUR COMIC SO MUCH ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

I really wanted to ask you about how you do the backgrounds? (Something i struggle with) whats the process? Like from start to finish, also, to do the rise backgrounds do you use reference from the show and generally real photo of ny? Or do you come up with them? And last question- The shadow and light on the background- Like HOW

i know it’s a lot of questions but i’m just so curious qwq and wanna learn to be better, thank you again in case you read this and respond, in case you don’t, i hope you have a nice day and a wonderful life uwu keep up the great work! (≧◡≦) ♡

Backgrounds are a really broad subject and I'm always a little overwhelmed when asked this question. Just like drawing the human body, backgrounds take time, repetition, and practice!

My answer got a bit long, so it's going under a read more :) but if you digest info better in video format I found this on youtube

It pretty much goes over everything I wanted to say, but in a much better way. I wish I had found it before writing all this out lol

ok, first of all, I'm not a teacher nor was I built to be one of those cool helpful art tutorial people who do a full coloured tutorial filled with illustrations. This is just going to be a messy "how I do backgrounds / environment layouts from start to finish." kinda thing.

... lets start with a sight tangent.

Sketch from Life!!!

If you want to get better at backgrounds I recommend doing some sketching out in the real world!

When I was first getting into doing backgrounds I went to cafes and parks to just sketch the buildings and objects. Sketch rocks, flowers, clumps of grass, garbage cans, bottles, tables, street signs, etc. If you are drawing a tree observe how the trunks twist, how the bark flows, or how the leaves are bunched.

If you can't leave the house the same still applies! Sketch the interiors of your house, the walls, or common objects like chairs and bookshelves. How are objects stacked? items on the floor?

If you aren't comfortable with drawing outside or in public you can take some photos to draw from! They are good for practice and you can use them again as references later. Alternatively you can find pictures online of buildings and objects to sketch as practice.

All spaces have objects in them, it becomes easier to draw those kinds of spaces when you already have spent time observing and sketching them.

ALSO! They don't have to be good sketches! It's just to build out your mental catalogue and strengthen your perception of perspective.

now the actual thing...

BACKGROUNDS

(the pictures used for this are my own. I dug them out of my 2022 folder)

Backgrounds have slightly different rules based on what you are making them for. Videogame Environment Concept Art vs Animation Layouts vs Comic Backgrounds vs Illustration backgrounds.

They all follow the same basics, which I will go over here, but the intention and function of those designs are going to be different. It's all about how you set up the scene and what it's purpose is!

Brainstorming and Thumbnailing

I like to think about a location as though it is a character. An abandoned old house with creaky sagging floorboards is very different from a futuristic space ship with sharp metal floor panels. A gas station has a very different feeling from a library.

I usually start by asking what is this location's story? Why was it built and for what purpose? What kinds of things does this room need to fulfill that purpose? You don’t need solid answers, but its good to be thinking about it while you are working.

Next, sketch some ideas for how this place is going to look. For me, this usually involves drawing the idea from multiple angles and then making lists & small sketches of the objects I think should be filling the space.

Example: The main character of my original work is a Wanderer. They collect a lot of things on their travels, but those items have to be small enough to be easily carried in a backpack. I wanted his room to be in the corner of an attic, walled off by curtains, and filled with trinkets. You can see some of my brainstorming above.

References

I only look for references after I've done some sketching and planning; this is to solidify my idea first so that I don't accidentally copy anyone else's work. I will make a moodboard with pictures of lighting, colours, items, rooms with specific ceiling beams, old chairs, etc. basically whatever I feel fits the vibe.

Honestly, I don't use references as much as I should. For ROTTMNT fanart I look at backgrounds and screenshots from the series to study the style. I also reference actual photos of NYC to get a feel for how Rise condenses the visual information.

In general, it's good to have references of real life objects/locations, because there are so many details like cracks in pavement, stickers on polls, crowning on buildings, fancy fencing, weird chair legs, etc. that you might not think of. It's the imperfect details that can make a location feel more alive.

Perspective

Once you have your chosen sketch we move to.... the infamous perspective boxes. Doing backgrounds is just learning to be comfortable drawing So Many boxes and carving items out of them.

Many better artists than myself have made videos on perspective, vanishing points, and all the technical bits. Videos like THIS ONE and THIS ONE are helpful (this post is great too!!). There are probably a lot of classes to be found on Skillshare or Schoolism. I learned a lot of this in my college art course, so I can't give you a specific video which helped me.

You can get by and be a good artist without learning this stuff. There are quite a few successful artists who have admitted they never bothered to learn perspective (one of these people even made a whole graphic novel series).

I personally avoided properly learning this stuff until I was in my 20s because I thought it would be boring and difficult to do. tbh I really wish I had learned it earlier because it's so much fun to make those silly little boxes imo. It looks scary and complicated but, just like drawing humans, it just takes time, repetition, and practice to develop the knowledge and skills.

Cleanup

You have your boxes and lines! Cool! Now to make a scene out of it. Fill in the details, get everything placed were you want it! Generally, the lines of each item will point back towards the horizon line, but they can have different perspective points.

Generally you would want to clean it up and get your room completely sketched before doing the lineart. I tend to combine the steps (not recommended)

Lineart

I've mentioned how I do this before. Closer objects have thicker lines and more detailed inside. Further objects have thinner lines and less detail. I didn't quite achieve that balance with the image below, but it's close enough.

Colours and Shading will have to be a separate post. In the meantime, I highly recommend the book "Color and Light" by James Gurney. I used to borrow it from my local library and a good chunk of my knowledge was learned from it :)

[ellecdc]

oh my god. I love your slytherin reader x marauders!!!! your writing is amazing!!!! could you do like a part three I guess? but like of later in their relationship and the reader has this little first year friend (who she is forced to tutor but she actually likes him but won't admit it) and he reminds her of the boys and the boy just like brings her flowers and chocolates and stuff and the boys see it and James gets all jealous and Sirius is just like "nah just watch mate" and expect the reader to get all annoyed but she doesn't she just doesn't say anything (because she secretly finds the boy sweet and doesn't wanna be mean to the tiny marauder like man) so then they are all in disbelief and pouty

sorry that was very long

hehe...hehehe.....this request is from March 14th 🫢 thank youuuuu for the prompt and sorry for the huge wait..... [also, let this perhaps let people know that I do have old requests saved!]

poly!marauders x fiesty!reader who has an admirer [1.2k words]

p1 // p2 // p3

CW: fem!reader, reader is feisty, Sirius is upset she's not feistier

“I’m not sure if you boys were aware,” Marlene drawled as she plopped herself onto an empty wingback chair in the Gryffindor common room, “but there’s some ickle little first year making moves on your girl.”

Her comment was met by a snort from James, a bark of laughter from Sirius, and an eye roll from Remus. 

“Thoughts and prayers to the first year, then.” James commented, never looking up from the rubik’s cube he was fiddling with as his back rested against Sirius’ folded legs. 

“I don’t know.” Marlene sing-songed. “He seems pretty sweet on her.” 

“Please.” Sirius scoffed. “Our darling girl is the least approachable person in Hogwarts, I hardly believe there’s a wix bold enough to solicit her, let alone a puny little first year.”

“He didn’t have to solicit her, she’s tutoring him.” 

“Honestly, Marls, I’ve never been less concerned about anything in my entire life.” James admitted.

“Could be interesting to watch, yeah?” Sirius offered with a mischievous wink, nudging James with his knee. 

Remus rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, though he did close his book with a mischievous smirk. “Someone should be there to save him from our little viper.” 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!” Marlene laughed as she waved them off, not bothering to hide her devious grin. 

It didn’t take long for the boys to find you, seeing as you were haunting what you had early on in your schooling dubbed the ‘most superior table’ in the library. You’d told them what made it so, but James had been paying more attention to the way your lips were moving and less on the actual words that were leaving them. 

“Oh Merlin, the poor sod has no clue.” Sirius all but giggled as they crouched behind one of the aisles of books surrounding your table. 

“Not terrible.” They heard you say as you looked over his work, and based on the boy's beaming smile one would assume you’d given him high praise.  “But you’re getting ahead of yourself and not showing your work.”

“Does showing my work matter if the answers are right?” The kid asked, and James couldn’t blame the kid - he’d had many-a-conversations along the same lines over the years. 

You simply lifted his parchment and walloped him over the head for it. “Yes, showing your work matters; you will lose marks if you don’t.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to let you down.” The kid said solemnly, and James’ heart momentarily melted before he realised that was his darling angel that he was putting the moves on. 

He waited for you to groan and call him a rotten toerag, but you simply shook your head and instructed him to do the next question, making sure to show his work this time. 

“Get a load of this kid; she’s gotta be just about ready to hex him.” Sirius murmured. 

“I’m surprised she hasn’t, honestly.” James replied, causing Remus to snicker.

“The two of you have been hexed for less.”

The three were interrupted when the kid let out a theatrical gasp and dropped his quill. “I can’t believe I almost forgot!” He screeched before ripping open his book bag.

After far too long spent searching the inside of his bookbag, the kid withdrew a slightly crumpled rose, letting out a disappointed groan when he saw the state of it. “My astronomy textbook must’ve crushed it.”

“Why do you have a rose in your bag?” You deadpanned, and the kid was right back to beaming again.

“I brought it for you, of course. I picked the prettiest one for the prettiest girl.”

This was it, this was the moment they were here for; Sirius watched eagerly as Remus grimaced, each equally anxious for your no doubt cantankerous response. 

But it never came.

You simply let out a sound bordering a breath, a sigh, and a laugh as you gingerly took the wilted rose between two fingers. 

“Very thoughtful. Please get back to your homework.” Was all you offered him, but the kid seemed no less pleased as he picked up his quill and dutifully returned to his work. 

“What in the buggering fuck?” Sirius hissed, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Remus, but it was too late.

“Can I help you boys?” You drawled, though you never actually looked behind you where your three boyfriends were still hiding. 

“Yes, you can help me.” Sirius barked, storming out from behind the stacks followed closely by James and less closely by Remus who had the grace to look a little shamefaced for his spying. “You can help me understand what the hells all this is!”

“This is called tutoring and studying, Sirius, if you spent any time in a library, it might be more familiar to you.” You offered simply, turning a glare in Remus’ direction when he snorted. 

“Okay, swot, what I mean is why are you hear letting this little dugbog-”

“Sirius!” You chided quickly.

“Oh my gods! And you’re defending him!” Sirius continued shrilly, earning him various shushings from surrounding students. 

James couldn’t help but notice you roll your eyes in exasperation, but he also noticed the faintest hints of a smile dancing on your lips. 

“You’ve done well, Cameron; keep practising, and for the love of Merlin make sure you show your work next time or so help me gods…”

“Yes ma’am!” Cameron replied as he packed up his bag. “See you next week?”

“Just as we always have.” You drawled in a bored tone, though you offered him a smirk as he hustled out of the library. 

“I can’t believe you!” Sirius huffed as he took Cameron’s now vacated seat. 

“Angel…what is the meaning of all this?” James asked earnestly, causing Remus to snort as he had the decency to press a kiss to your hair in greeting. 

“If we’d have known you were meeting with new suitors, dove, we would have insisted on accompanying you to your tutoring sessions.”

“Oh please.” You dismissed. “He’s just a kid.”

“Uhm, and?” Sirius pouted.

“Sweetheart, we’ve seen you jinx a kid for sneezing too closely to you.” Remus reminded you, and your face darkened.

“Germ infested little freaks.”

“There’s our girl.” Sirius exclaimed. “I can’t believe you let him get away with any of that!” 

“He’s harmless.”

“He’s a flirt.” Sirius corrected.

“He’s you.” You shot back, and the three boys all looked at you with various levels of bemusement. 

“I beg your pardon?” James finally asked, and you shook your head as you began packing up your own bag. 

“He’s like a miniature version of the three of you; following me around and being abhorrently affectionate.”

“Well, hey, I think we’re, like, an appropriate amount of affectionate.” James tried. 

“No, it's sort of abhorrent sometimes.” Remus quickly agreed. 

“Babe…” Sirius cooed, causing Remus and James to grimace. “Are you going soft on us!?” 

Your eyes immediately darkened as you glowered at him, and if Sirius’ sudden flinch and the following yelp proved anything, you aimed a tame stinging jinx at him. 

“On the kid? Maybe.” You responded primly. “On the three of you? Jury’s still out.”

[pickingupmymercedes]

A bit mushy - Lewis Hamilton

Let's see how Lewis and his wife do in a Couple's Interview.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: none

wordcount: +3k

a/n: Fun and light Lewis for the win, again thanks a million times to @greedyjudge2 for the idea and for some of the questions, I know I don't usually write carefree Lewis but it's my favorite ❤️❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

_______________________________________

The room was buzzing—cameras being adjusted, light stands tweaked and a handful of crew members chatting as they waited for everything to come together.

Lewis sat comfortably on the low-slung, cushy armchair beside his wife, his hand resting casually on the back of her seat tracing lazy circles on her back. They looked impossibly relaxed, as if the cameras were invisible, and this was just another day at home.

The director, a laid-back guy with a coffee stain on his jeans and a clipboard that looked way too serious for the vibe of the shoot, strolled over.

He was juggling his phone and an energy drink, clearly a man trying to keep his cool while wrangling two of the most charismatic people in motorsports.

“Okay, so this should be easy” he started, his voice overly casual like he almost didn’t want to disturb the couple’s chemistry “No serious stuff. No PR-approved answers. We’re here for the real deal. Just answering a few questions about each other, nothing too scandalous. Think... fun, but, y’know, juicy enough to make people smile.”

Lewis’s wife, legs crossed and leaning slightly into her husband’s space, raised an eyebrow. “Define juicy” a sly smile tugging at her lips.

The director chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, like... light-hearted scandal. Stuff people don’t already know. Maybe embarrass him a little—" he motioned to Lewis—"but in a cute way.”

Lewis shot the director a mock glare “Right, you don’t really need to ask her that” he said, his voice dripping with good-humored sarcasm.

His wife snorted, turning to face him with a grin. “Promise not to dig too deep. Unless we’re talking about those sneakers you wore to the beach...”

Lewis groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. “Not the beach sneakers again! One time and I’m branded for life.”

The crew around them snickered, and even the sound guy adjusted his headphones to cover a grin.

There was something about the way they bickered that had the whole room leaning in, as if everyone was witnessing the most intimate, casual conversation between two people who just fit.

The director, fully entertained, motioned to the cameraman to get ready. “Alright, alright. Let’s save the good stuff for the shoot. Remember, it’s just you two being yourselves. No need to put on a show.”

His wife reached over and squeezed Lewis’s hand. “No promises.”

As they shared a quiet laugh, the subtle touches and glances between them were enough to make anyone nearby smile. There was no need for grand gestures—the way they leaned into each other, how their conversations flowed effortlessly, said more than any scripted moment ever could.

They had that kind of love that made everyone else feel like they were in on something out of ordinary, just by watching.

The cameras zoomed in slowly as the couple got comfortable in their seats. Lewis leaned back, his arm still slung casually around his wife’s chair, his body slight angled so he could face her better, and she tucked one leg underneath her, turning toward him like she always did when they were in the middle of one of their many quiet conversations.

Except this wasn’t quite so quiet. The cameras were rolling now, and the world was about to get a glimpse into how they were with each other.

The director's voice came through, just loud enough to hear but never intrusive.

“Alright, let’s get this rolling. What embarrassing fashion trend did you take part in?”

Lewis immediately leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if he was preparing for battle. “I’ll own this one. Bandanas. Wore them with everything back in the day. Thought I was some kind of rockstar or something.”

She tilted her head, eyebrows shooting up. “Bandanas?” she asked, feigning surprise. Her eyes glimmered with mischief, and she leaned closer, as if letting the audience in on a secret. “You sure it wasn’t the Timberlands?”

Lewis threw his head back with a groan, already knowing where this was headed. “Not the Timbs,” he mumbled, shaking his head like he was in actual pain.

“Yeah, the Timbs” she said, fully grinning now. “Let me remind you, you used to wear them with everything. Jeans, tracksuits, shorts, suits—”

Lewis raised a hand, stopping her, though there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I still stand by those, alright? I don’t care what anyone says. Timbs are timeless.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, patting his leg. “Sure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The banter between them came so naturally, it was easy to forget there were cameras pointed right at them. The crew standing around had mostly stopped what they were doing, some watching the couple with amused smirks, others clearly touched by how playful yet undeniably affectionate they were towards each other.

“Okay, next question: What first attracted you to each other?”

Lewis’s wife leaned back, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to come up with something profound. “His sense of style,” she deadpanned, lips twitching as she fought back a grin.

Lewis blinked, his head cocked to the side. “Seriously? You were just attacking my Timbs? That guy’s sense of style?”

For a moment, she held her ground, lips pursed in mock-seriousness. But after a few seconds of staring at him—his bewildered look, the way he was just waiting for her to crack—she broke. Her laugh wasn’t exactly loud but it filled the room.

“Okay, fine!” She reached out, her hand landing on his thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. “It was your eyes.”

Lewis’s eyebrows shot up as he gave her a soft smile. He just stared at her, thrown off by her sudden honesty.

She smiled, her gaze softening too as she looked at him. “They’re intense, you know? Like you see things really deeply. The way you look at the world... it’s impossible not to notice.”

Lewis was quiet for a beat, his usual witty retorts momentarily forgotten. His hand moved instinctively to cover hers on his leg, squeezing it gently. “Well, damn” he finally said, his voice quieter than before, almost reverent.

The room around them seemed to still. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made it feel like they were the only ones there, like everyone else had faded away.

“Next one—‘On what occasion have you lied to me?’”

Lewis’s eyes went wide, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced at his wife. “Uh… Remember when I blamed Roscoe for loosing up your house shoes?”

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in disbelief. “No. You’re telling me you wore my house shoes, Lewis?!”

He winced, trying to play it cool. “I mean… It was just that one time! They looked comfy, and my feet were cold. I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Oh, I noticed,” she said, crossing her arms. “I just thought Roscoe had lied on them, not that your big feet had wrecked them!”

The crew chuckled, sensing the playful tension building between them.

“Roscoe was the perfect scapegoat…” Lewis defended himself.

“My poor baby” she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “You threw him under the bus!”

“He didn’t seem to mind,” Lewis replied with a smirk, leaning closer to her, his tone turning softer. “But hey, I bought you new ones”

She raised a brow, clearly amused but still pretending to be serious.

“Have I ever made you jealous?”

Lewis leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk creeping across his face as he quipped in before she could. “She has, yes.”

His wife’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? When exactly?”

He didn’t answer immediately, taking his time like he always did when he wanted to build up the suspense. She leaned in; her curiosity evident in the way her lips quirked. “Come on, give me the details.”

Lewis shook his head, clearly amused. “The silver dress” he said, voice low.

For a second, she didn’t react, clearly trying to place the memory. Then, like a lightbulb flicking on, her eyes widened in recognition. “Ohhh, that night!”

Her laughter exploded from her, loud and sudden, catching even the crew off guard. She leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach slightly as she laughed, while Lewis sat there, arms still crossed, trying his best to look annoyed but clearly failing.

“That night was something” she said between laughs, her eyes shimmering with tears of amusement.

Lewis sighed, shaking his head. “I’m glad you think it was so funny.”

“Oh, babe, you were so grumpy” she teased, nudging him with her foot.

Lewis didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at her with that mix of exasperation and fondness that made it clear that, no matter what she did, she was always going to get away with it.

“What’s a song that reminds you of each other?”

This time, she didn’t even hesitate. “A Life Like This by Nao.”

Lewis’s face softened immediately. “Why that one?”

She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual teasing grin. This one was softer, more intimate. “Because... before you, I was just going through life, you know? Things were just happening, and I wasn’t really... present. Then you came along, and it was like everything shifted. It was like my Saturn return was finally over, and I could just... breathe.”

For a moment, Lewis said nothing. His face betrayed him—no amount of his typical coolness could hide the way her words hit him.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re really gonna get me emotional, huh?” he murmured, his voice so low only she and the mic could pick up on his voice.

She just smiled; her eyes full of love. “That’s the plan.”

The crew exchanged looks and quiet smiles. It was impossible not to feel the connection between them, like they were watching something precious unfold right in front of them.

“What’s something you wish you did more often?”

Lewis leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Lazy mornings.”

She smiled, nodding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah” he said softly, his eyes on her. “No alarms, no schedules, no meetings. Just us. Laying in bed, talking, laughing... not worrying about what we have to do next.”

She nodded again, her smile turning wistful. “Yeah.”

Their eyes met, and once again, the room seemed to shrink around them, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble.

“Okay love birds, next up ‘What is the most treasured possession that the other has given you?’”

She paused, tapping her chin as if she really had to think about it, though the answer was clearly already on her mind. “The necklace you gave me on our third date.”

The director blinked, looking between them. “Third date?”

“Oh yeah” she nodded, leaning back in her chair, eyes sparkling as she shot Lewis a teasing look. “He was whipped by then.”

Lewis rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “You make it sound like I was proposing marriage.”

“You weren’t far off, though” she teased, reaching for the necklace hanging delicately around her neck. “He gave me this beautiful pendant, that he designed himself, by the way, and I remember thinking, ‘Okay, this guy is serious.’”

Lewis chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I knew what I wanted.”

“That you did” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

“Yeah” he grinned. “No point in playing games.”

She looked down at the necklace again, her voice softening. “It’s not just the necklace though. It’s what it represented. He was showing me he wasn’t just there for fun—he was there for real.”

Lewis met her gaze, his smile quieter now, filled with affection. “I meant it then, and I mean it now.”

“When did you first know that you were in love?”

This time, she was the one to hesitate, a mischievous glint in her eye. “In love with whom?” she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Lewis groaned, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, don’t start.”

She giggled, clearly enjoying every second of his exasperation. “I knew I loved you when we went through about a dozen paint stores in Milan looking for the perfect shade of gold for that painting.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, didn’t remember that.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could’ve just mixed the colors myself and gotten something close. But you were so invested in finding the exact match that I just... I kept going. And I knew it then. I knew I loved you because you cared about the little things, the details that most people would overlook.”

Lewis stared at her; his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile that seemed to melt the room around them.

“What’s your favorite memory of the two of you?”

Lewis leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That time we missed the flight in Paris.”

She let out a groan, breaking the feeling in the room, she already knew where this story was headed. “Nooo, not that!”

“Yep,” Lewis said with a smile. “So we were in Paris, right? And someone—” he pointed at her playfully, “—was absolutely convinced that the subway would get us to the airport faster than any car could.”

“It would’ve!” she protested, already laughing. “The traffic was insane!”

“Yeah sure” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So there we were, dragging our bumps through the subway stations, hopping from one line to the next. Every station was like a maze, and we were so lost. I kept telling you, ‘Let’s just get a cab,’ but nooo, you were determined.”

She shook her head, smiling. “It was an adventure!”

“It was chaos and we missed the flight by hours” Lewis corrected, his voice teasing but fond.

“But honestly? It’s one of my favorite memories. You were so carefree, so determined, so in the present. We were lost in Paris but we weren’t lost within ourselves.”

Her smile softened, her eyes holding his for a long moment. “You never told me that was your favorite memory.”

“Yeah” he said quietly, his voice more sincere now. “I felt like we could just... slow down. Be present. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me.”

For a moment, they were silent, the weight of his words settling between them. The room around them was so still that the soft hum of the cameras was the only sound. The crew watched them closely, as if holding their collective breath.

She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, and whispered just loud enough for the microphones to catch “I think that’s my favorite memory now, too.”

Lewis smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, and for a few seconds, it was like the cameras weren’t even there. It was just them, lost in a shared memory, a world of their own.

The director, sensing the intimacy of the moment, cleared his throat gently.

“Alright, now to wrap this up ‘When can we expect little Hamiltons running around?”

Both Lewis and his wife exchanged quick glances, and almost in unison, they burst out laughing—only this time, their laughter had a bit of an edge, like they knew something the room didn’t.

Lewis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together. “Ooooh, good one.”

“You had to go there, didn’t you?” she added, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. “Real smooth.”

The crew, sensing the couple was playing coy, leaned in just a bit, waiting for a juicy response. But instead, Lewis leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Well, you never know, right?”

His wife smirked, glancing at him sideways, playing along. “When you least expect it”

The director, not quite satisfied, pressed on. “Any plans in the near future?”

“Oh, besides, like, tomorrow’s plans?” she quipped, keeping the teasing energy alive.

Lewis chimed in again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We’ve got a lot of plans. Travel, Roscoe’s bath time…”

The director chuckled, shaking his head. “Dodging the question, I see.”

Lewis gave a knowing look to the camera, adding one final, cryptic comment. “We’ll let you know when it happens... maybe.”

And with that, they both smiled at the cameras, their laughter filling the air as the director called “cut” for the final time.

The room gradually came back to life, the hum of equipment being packed up and crew members chatting quietly filling the air. The couple stayed seated, though, still caught in the gentle pull of their shared moment, almost unaware of the bustling scene around them.

Lewis exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced at his wife, his arm instinctively pulling her a little closer. She smiled, still leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

“That was a bit mushy, wasn’t it?” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice, though there was warmth in her eyes as she gazed up at him.

Lewis smirked, brushing his thumb gently against her arm. “Just a little. But you started it.”

She chuckled softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Tou’re not usually one for getting all sentimental on camera.”

He shrugged lightly, but there was no real defensiveness in his posture.

She smiled, her heart swelling at the softness in his gestures. “Good. I like you better that way.”

She sighed softly, sitting up a little and stretching her arms out with a satisfied groan. “People are going to think we’re a pair of softies.”

Lewis chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Let them.”

She smiled, sitting back in her chair and looking at him with a tenderness that only deepened as she reached out, her hand cupping his cheek for a brief moment. “I guess it’s not the worst thing to be.”

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them and looked straight at her. “Nah, it’s not.”

Unbeknownst to them, the cameras were still rolling—just a little, a behind-the-scenes shot meant to capture those moments of candidness. The crew tried to keep their distance, giving the couple their space, but every now and then, someone would glance over, a quiet smile tugging at their lips. There was something undeniably magnetic about Lewis and his wife, the way they moved around each other, the way they fit together.

Without thinking, he stood up and extended a hand to her, pulling her up from her seat. As she stood, she let out a small laugh, one that was soft and filled with affection. But before she could fully straighten up, Lewis slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest in a gentle, protective embrace.

For a second, she stiffened—more out of surprise than anything—but then she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was a simple gesture, nothing extravagant, but in that moment, it was everything.

“Alright, lover boy” she murmured, her voice laced with contentment. “What’s all this about?”

“Just holding you” he replied simply, his voice low and soothing, the kind of tone he used when it was just the two of them, no audience, no pressure. “Feels like we haven’t had a minute to ourselves in forever.”

She smiled as she found her place on the crock of his neck, her fingers absently tracing circles on the back of his neck “You’ll get them,” she promised quietly. “We’ll make time.”

Eventually, Lewis pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know,” he started, his tone teasing “about those Timbs.”

She groaned, playfully swatting at his chest. “I thought we agreed to leave the Timbs in the past.”

“I never agreed to that” he grinned, tightening his arms around her playfully. “I’m still rocking them, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her. “Well, at least one of us has evolved.”

He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “Maybe. But you love me anyway.”

“I do,” she said softly, the sincerity of the words wrapping around them both like a warm blanket. “I really do.”

______________________________________________________________

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[shalomniscient]

“are you sure you have everything?”

lyney huffs a bit of a strangled laugh, but nods. he’s somewhat used to your fussing, but it still feels a little… not exactly embarrassing, but a warm heat makes its way from his chest to his cheeks nonetheless. he holds the magic pocket bag closer to his chest as you fix the fastenings of his fatui cloak yet again, fiddling with the clips and ensuring they’re secure and not about to fly off in the harbor wind as it blows freely around them all.

“i’m all set,” he assures you, then glances over at lynette. she’s still a little woozy—it is the break of dawn, after all, since father prefers moving under the dense cover of darkness, and though lynette is awake she’s certainly not ecstatic to be awake. as a result, she’s the next target of your fussing; you gently pat her cheeks to wake her up a little more, and she lets out almost a small, mewling noise before snapping out of her drowsy daze.

“you can rest a little more on the ship, lynette,” you say, and the young woman nods. “if you get seasick, i packed some medicine. and i made some food if you get hungry; it won’t last very long on a ship, so remember to eat it, okay? oh—i also packed earmuffs, be sure to wear them if it gets too cold, alright?”

“understood,” lynette answers, leaning into your touch as you pat her hair. she’s always been more physically affectionate with you, though she tempers herself when the familiar sound of boots and metallic heels on stone tiles echo behind all of you.

“i take it everyone is prepared to set off?” comes father’s calm, even tone. behind her is freminet; he isn’t dressed for travel, since he’ll be staying in fontaine, but followed along to see them off. she’s dressed somewhat similarly, but unlike lyney and lynette who seem to drown in their cloaks, father wears it like a mantle—the fur broadens her already broad shoulders, and she looks more like a king than ever. and yet despite that, you simply turn and stride over to her, your hands reaching out to smooth down the lapels of her cloak.

“just double checking,” you hum, though there’s a little bit of a sigh in your voice. “i think i packed everything.”

father offers you a mild look. “the children know how to pack their own things.”

“i know, but i wanted to help,” you reply, and lyney swears he sees the hard lines of her face soften imperceptibly. there’s a slackness to her normally tense posture as you do all your last minute checks—cufflinks? i have them. hand cream? yes. ID? all settled, dearest—and lyney has to marvel on the sway you have over their typically unshakeable father.

“we should head out,” she says gently, taking one of your wrists in a tender, dark hand. a brief flicker of stubborness flashes across your expression, before you sigh.

“ah, before i forget…” you produce a tiny pouch, and then place it into father’s open palm. she regards it curiously, tilting her head. there’s a rustle of plastic inside, but also the clack of a few hard objects hitting each other. “coffee candies,” you explain, “for when you feel sleepy.”

“thank you,” father says, her tone as warm and soft as it always is with you. she accepts the pouch, and slips it into one of her cloak pockets. “i will remember to have them.”

you huff. “you better. i’ve already told lyney and lynette not to let you skip meals, as you’re so prone to do.”

“is that so?” father asks mildly, glancing at them both, and it takes quite a bit to not shiver under her questioning gaze. lyney truly has no idea how he’ll convince father to eat later on this trip, but he figures dropping your name a few time should do the trick. he hopes.

“it is,” you say firmly, and then your tone softens again. you look up at father, and lyney cannot see your expression from here, but he knows the same is reflected in father’s—loving, with a hint of departure’s sorrow. “be safe. come home.”

“alwaus,” father answers, and lyney, lynette and freminet have the sense to look away when she leans down to kiss you chastely. they only look back up when father steps over to them, leaving you and freminet on the other side of the dock. she levels freminet with a look. “do not forget your duty, freminet.”

he nods resolutely, hugging pers a little tighter. “of course, father.”

(just a few moments ago, she’d pulled him to the side and gave him a direct order, as the fourth fatui harbingers and the knave.

“you will protect the house with your life,” she had said, her tone brookering no argument, though it wasn’t as if freminet was looking to argue. and though father has said ‘the house’, freminet had lived long enough there to know the truth of her words.

“yes, father. i won’t let anything happen to mom.”)

and then, with the bellow of a horn, their little ship sets off into morning light. lyney watches father’s face carefully as the dawn breaks, casting the harbinger’s expression in shades of warm gold. she’s uncharacteristically unguarded in this brief flash of a moment—not that she would ever admit such a thing, even upon threat of death. but lyney knows love is most felt when it is leaving, and so even as she turns on her heel to enter the cabin, he knows she’s already counting down the days before she can return home—return to you.

[muwapsturniolo]

⋆.˚ 𝐈'𝐦 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ⋆.˚

IN WHICH...a wallflower finds solace in her life thanks to a boy who gives her the will to live

WARNINGS...mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts! depressive thoughts, alcohol, weed, IF I FORGOT ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW

BTW, the series playlist is linked in the title!

THIS SERIES IS NOT IN ANY WAY, SHAPE , OR FORM TRYING TO ROMANTICIZE DEPRESSION OR SUICIDE! THIS IS SIMPLY A FIC THAT IS SUPPOSED TO SHOW THE STRUGGLES OF MENTAL HEALTH AND HOW SOMETIMES WE JUST NEED TO FEEL LIKE WE BELONG TO FEEL BETTER! IF YOU SUFFER WITH ANY TYPE OF MENTAL HEALTH STRUGGLE, PLEASE REACH OUT FOR HELP! AT THE END OF EACH CHAPTER I WILL PROVIDE A PHONE NUMBER FOR THE SUICIDE HOTLINE!

Matilda.

A movie about a young girl who was ignored at times by her family, or simply just treated horribly for existing.

She related to that.

From a young age she was ignored by her parents, the adults constantly forgetting they even had a child to tend and take care of.

They would leave her home alone without even mumbling a goodbye, they wouldn't even leave a note. The birthdays she wished to celebrate every year were forgotten, the holidays she would see being celebrated on TV in grand and dramatic ways were never like that for her.

She thought it would be different at school.

She'd seen the TV shows of kids having big groups of friends, having nice and welcoming teachers, and having fun.

She was wrong.

In elementary school she was bullied, the kids making fun of her hair and clothes. They made fun of the fact she was soft-spoken and always reading the 'Magic Tree House' books. Her teachers never did anything about it, and she didn't want them to.

She would take bullying over being ignored any day.

Then, middle school happened.

The bullying had stopped, but not because the kids felt bad, they grew tired of her. They treated her like she was a nuisance making their lives unbearable. To make it worse, her teachers felt the same way. She would raise her hand to answer a question, and the teacher would roll their eyes while her classmates would mock her and call her a 'suck up' or 'annoying". Her peers would bump into her in the hallways and yell in her face to move.

A vivid memory of hers was when she bumped into Lacey Sanders in the lunchroom, spilling her lunch all over her brand-new white top. Lacey lost it, she pushed the girl to the floor, screaming in her face that she was a waste of space and should have never been born.

It was embarrassing.

So embarrassing that she raced out of the lunchroom and straight to the bathroom where she had her first panic attack.

She began to believe the callous words and actions around her.

Maybe she was annoying, maybe she was a suck-up, maybe she shouldn't have been born...

It seemed as the school year went on and people began to forget the lunchroom incident, they began to forget about her too.

High school soon came along, and that's when she realized how invisible she truly was.

No one would give her dirty looks anymore, they would bump into her in the hallways and continue to walk as if she were an inanimate object. Her teachers would either mark her absent or not even call her name during attendance.

It's like she didn't exist.

She blended into the crowd, but she wasn't a part of the crowd,

She was an empty shell, a ghost begging, screaming, pleading to be noticed,

Just like she's doing now.

It was a cold December night in Boston, a few days before Christmas. The streetlights illuminate the icy roads, showcasing the flurries of snow flying around. The streets were basically empty, the majority wanting to escape the cold, but not her.

She loved the cold.

She loved the way the crisp air pierced her skin, numbing her fingers and toes. She loved how when she breathed out, she could see the carbon dioxide, showing that she was in fact there and alive much to her dismay and others.

Her hands grip the cold railing tightly, her palms burning from the frost coating the metal. The murky water below was currently sloshing against the rocks violently, the noise so loud yet calming at the same time.

She couldn't help but wonder if her end would be the same,

Violent and loud, yet calming.

She takes a shakey breath and looks away from the water, looking behind her and watching as a few people walk by...Ignoring her.

They were dressed in their winter attire, laughing and talking about the holidays to come and how excited they were to spend time with family. They weren't worried about the 17-year-old girl on the bridge.

Why would they worry?

As much as she wanted someone to notice her, to stop her from ending it all and tell her it's ok, she knew they wouldn't

They don't care.

"They don't care," she murmurs to herself.

Her eyes began to burn, she wasn't sure if it was the cold air or the tears forming in her eyes, but she didn't care...Not anymore. She closes her eyes and faces forward once more, the noise around her beginning to soften as the rushing water grows louder in her ears. Her grip on the railing began to loosen, a faint smile gracing her face.

This is it.

She's finally going to be at peace.

Just as she begins to let go, a hand firmly grabs her shoulder and yanks her backward, her back hitting the railings harshly. Her eyes snap open and she whips her head around, coming face to face with a boy who looks out of breath. 

His eyes are wide and filled with genuine fear, but he has a smile on his face.

“Come to a party with me!”

She blinks in confusion, not sure if she heard him correctly. "w-what?"

" Come to a party with me. It's not a huge party really. It's just me, my brothers, and a few friends in Nate's basement. We're going to watch Christmas movies, play games, drink, smoke..."

Despite the tension in the air and his body, the boy keeps a smile on his face, begging internally for the girl to agree.

"You don't even know me..."

"Well I want to..."

He wants to know her.

Someone wants to know her.

Her grip on the railing tightens once more as she begins to feel conflicted. She wanted to end it, she was tired of hurting in silence, yet here he was, a stranger, inviting her to a party.

Was this the universe finally answering her wishes, or was she already dead and in her own version of heaven?

"Come on, it will be fun...We have pizza."

He was warm and inviting, the cheesy smile on his face and the crinkle by his eyes proving that much. It was a nice change compared to the coldness she felt in her life.

She hesitantly nods to his invitation, the action accruing before she even realizes she's doing it. He quickly drops his bags to the ground and yanks her over the railing, holding her close as he mutters a 'Thank God' to himself once he realizes she's now safe.

Once she's steady, she pulls away from him and looks away awkwardly, her nails digging into her palms.

He wants to confront her, tell her what she planned on doing was stupid and she would regret it, but he didn't.

He couldn't.

She didn't need a lecture right now, she needed a friend.

Noticing she's just in a flannel and sweatpants, he quickly takes off his jacket and throws it over her shoulders, "S'freezin kid, should have worn a jacket in this weather...Come on, let's head to Nates. It's not that far." He grabs her hand without a care in the world, grabbing his dropped bags in the other, and leading the way.

The walk to Nates is quiet for the most part, the only sound coming from the plastic bags and their feet crunching against the snow. She was lost deep in thought, her mind buzzing with the events within the past few minutes.

She's pulled out of her thoughts by the boy speaking, "I think I've seen you around school, I say I think 'cause I'm rarely there...What's y'name kid?"

He noticed her around school? She actually stood out for someone to notice her?

"Y/n..." She answers softly. He hums in response and gives her a big smile, "Well, I'm Chris. S'nice to meet you Y/n."

They soon make it to Nate's house and Chris waltzes right in, stomping his feet on the matt to get rid of the snow before kicking the boots off. "Come on, everyone's in the basement." He motions to the basement door, already walking towards it.

Y/n hesitantly follows, this was all new to her.

She's never been invited to parties or asked to hang out.

As Chris opens the basement door, she hears the sound of laughter and shouting.

"You cheated!"

"How the hell do you cheat in Candyland you dumb fuc-I'm back!" Chris's announcement of his arrival causes the group of four to look at the two teens standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"And you brought a stranger?" A boy who looks just like Chris asks, looking Y/n up and down.

She feels her face grow warm as the boy calls her a stranger, he wasn't lying though, she was a stranger. Chris rolls his eyes and drops the bag on the table before slapping the boy upside the head. "Shut the hell up Nick, Y/n's not a stranger... She's a friend."

She feels her heart skip a beat at his words.

Friends...She was a friend.

Chris plops down on the couch, immediately man-spreading and crossing his arms. Meanwhile, Y/n stands by the stairs awkwardly still wrapped in Chris's jacket. Chris notices and pats the spot next to him, urging her to sit down.

She shuffles over, her movements unsure as she sits down next to him.

She expected the group to jump back into what they were doing, to completely disregard her existence - that wasn't the case. They immediately begin to talk to her, asking all types of questions to get to know her better. It was different, it was scary, it was overwhelming, but she found herself relaxing in the warm atmosphere of the basement.

Despite Nick's hesitancy towards her earlier, everyone was so welcoming. They treated her like they had known her for years, like they grew up with her. It was comforting, for once in her life she felt like she belonged, like she was actually alive.

It was refreshing.

"S-so do you guys always hang down here?" She asks as she looks around the basement. It looked like the basement of an early 2-thousands teen movie. Posters of different bands and TV shows were thrown on the wall, the colorful Christmas lights were strung along the ceilings creating a serene atmosphere. There was a huge tv mounted on the wall - gaming systems on the stand below. Two couches, a recliner, and bean bags of different colors were scattered about.

"Yeah, my mom doesn't want us messing up her nice couches and she says we are too loud, so she and my dad let us use the basement as our hangout spot," Nate states as he sets the bong down on the table, Alahna immediately taking it. "A-and they let you guys smoke-" her eyes dart over to the alcohol in Nick's hand, "And drink?"

"Better here rather than out somewhere getting hurt....Are your parents really strict or something?"

The question makes her wonder, were her parents strict? They were never around or paid any attention to her for them to be. She could have been causing all types of trouble and doing god knows what without any type of repercussion, yet she never did

She gives a brief smile, "N-not really... I've just never done any of that stuff...." The group looks at her in shock. How could someone in their grade never dabble in any of these activities? "Well, that is going to change! Take your pick, what drink do you want?"

"Or do you want to smoke?"

The group begins to debate on what the girl should do first, two of them leaning towards drinking while the other two claim an edible would be better. Meanwhile, Chris is doing neither. His eyes land on the girl who looks frightened by the idea of ingesting any type of paraphernalia.

"Hey-" his hand finds its place on her knee, giving comfort. "You know you don't have to do anything if you don't want to right? Don't let them pressure you."

Conflicted feelings swarm in her mind. On one hand she's not completely keen on the idea of being intoxicated, worried about what she will say and or do while not being in the right state of mind. What if they find her weird, or they make her the butt end of a joke? However on the other hand, she wants to fit in, she wants them to like her, and she wants to belong.

"I-is there anything not...Strong?" She asks timidly. Chris nods and grabs an unopened can of Twisted Tea. "It's tea with vodka. Taste kind of funky but I like it." She examines the big can, a look of nervousness still on her face. " We could share if you want? I doubt you will drink the whole thing." He was mainly offering out of concern, he knew the drink wasn't strong, but he didn't want the girl throwing up everywhere because she couldn't handle alcohol.

“T-that sounds nice….” Chris nods and cracks open the can, handing it to her for the first sip. She takes it once again, smelling the liquid before taking a hesitant sip. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either. She shivers as she swallows, smacking her lips as the taste settles in her mouth. Chris laughs as she hands the can back to him, taking his own swig of the spiked tea.

“Alcohol virginity has been semi-taken! We’ll save the weed for a birthday or something,” Alahna cheers, the whole group joining in.

The night is a whirlwind of endless activities ranging from Just Dance, board games, Heads up, the girl learning how to play Fortnite, and karaoke.

Y/n was having fun. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t sad, she was happy. Even if it was a temporary happiness, she spent her whole life worrying, it wouldn't hurt her to live and enjoy her life for one night.

The night soon ends and everyone is getting ready to leave, “We can drive you home. S’pretty late and I uhh... I don't want you walking alone..." It was obvious Chris was worried, scared she would find her way to the bridge once more and disappear. He knew he couldn't do much to make whatever she was going through better, but he sure as hell was going to try.

"It's fine, I can wa-'' As she tries to turn down the offer of a ride, not wanting to be a burden, Chris turns to Matt - "You good with driving her home? She doesn't live far."

Matt's eyes drift over to the girl who is smiling awkwardly, shrugging his shoulder and grabbing his keys, "Yeah, let's go. "

After saying their goodbyes to Nate, Alahna, and Nate's family, the four pile into the black van. Y/n climbs into the car, sitting next to Nick in the backseat as Chris and Matt remain upfront. Matt suddenly hands her his phone, Google Maps opened- a clear sign to enter her address. She does so, handing him back the phone quietly. “ You live next door to us?” Matt questions as he puts the car in reverse, the tires crunching against the snow.

"I-I do?" She questions. She had never noticed the three boys - it's obvious they hadn't noticed her either. The car ride to their respective homes is pretty quiet, a song from Chris's playlist playing softly as the two boys upfront hold a whispered conversation. Nick was busy sleeping, all the alcohol finally catching up to him. Y/n looks out the window, her eyes focused on the blurry imagery passing her by.

It wasn't long before Matt pulled into their driveway - everyone piling out of the car and ready to go to bed. "You guys head inside, I'm going to walk her to her house." Chris moves toward Y/n, his hand resting on her back. Matt eyes the gesture and says nothing, grabbing a half-asleep Nick and walking him inside.

"Y-you didn't have to walk me back...."

"I want to...Come on."

The two begin the small walk toward the white house - silence being the conversation between the two.

"Well...This is you," Chris states as they arrive in front of the brown door. he shoves his hands into his pockets, his feet kicking at the snow on the ground. "Y-yeah..." Her hand rests on the doorknob, her eyes looking over Chris as she tries to figure out what to say next.

"Did you have- Thanks for," Soft laughter falls from both of them as they talk over each other, Chris running a hand through his hair as Y/n wraps her arms around herself. "You go ahead, what were you going to say?"

"I-I was going to say thanks...I-I needed this tonight." Chris smiles softly at her, the two coming to a mutual understanding of what she really means.

"S'no problem...Hopefully I- We get to see you more." The thought of this friend group - a group that has been friends forever, wanting to hang out with her again, fills her with excitement. She tries to hold back her giddiness, a Cheshire smile wanting to make its way onto her face. Chris notices it but decides not to say anything, not wanting to embarrass the girl.

"Well, I should head back. I'll see you soon alright?" She nods and watches as Chris walks back to his own home, their eyes meeting briefly before he goes inside. She smiles to herself and rushes inside, nothing but pure joy in her system.

It's not long before she's showered and laid in bed, her eyes trained on the ceiling covered in stars. She was thinking about her night, how it started off so shitty, and ended up being the best night of her life. She was seen, she was laughed with and not at, she felt like she belonged.

She turns on her side, pulling the blankets closer, a smile on her face.

Maybe things are getting better, her wishes being granted.

She could only hope it stays that way.

As she falls asleep, she fails to notice a body climbing out of a window next door, situating itself onto the roof. The person lights a cigarette between their lips, letting the mix of cancer and cold air enter their lungs. They take a big swig from the vodka bottle in their hand, the alcohol burning their throat. They stare off into the empty street, their eyes void of all emotion as they wonder-

What went wrong?

I hope you all like this. i did my best to articulate the words and feelings i have experienced into this. i want all of you to know you are loved, you're seen, and you're not alone! if any of you are struggling mentally i want you to know you're so strong and I'm proud of you for making it this far.

i believe this is a nationwide site that you can use to call and or text when it comes to mental health. if it is wrong, please let me know!

[lisenberry]

The mountain is you

Ch. 3: I hear your voice in my head

Dom Price x Fem Reader

MDNI/NSFW/18+

CW: Dom/Sub, Bondage, Sex Work, Pain Play, Spanking, Temperature Play (shower), Spit, Voice Kink, Size Kink.

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2)

AO3

You sat back on your heels with your hands folded in your lap as he walked in.  His bootsteps seemed to vibrate across the wooden floor beneath your pillow.  A steady gait, with all of the suspense of a drum roll.

As you faced the high-backed chair, you could only make out the top of him until he made his way closer into view.  He was tall enough when you were standing up.  But on the ground at his feet, he eclipsed everything else around him.  There were no windows, no ceiling.  Just his thighs giving way to his waist, his arms and shoulders. 

Your head tipped back as far as it could just to take him all in, and even then, you came up short of meeting his eyes.

“Already off to a good start, I see.  You look lovely, sweetheart.”  He appraised you in a way that was both agonizingly slow and methodically brief, as he took off his jacket and slowly rolled up his sleeves

“Thank you, sir,” you answered, to the spot on his chest where his flannel shirt opened in a V.  It earned you a quick bob of his head in approval. 

He was starting you off easy.  That much was clear.  Like a teacher on the first day of school.  Throwing you softball questions to gauge how much of the summer reading you’d done over break.  How you responded determined how far he’d push you, and which side of him you’d get.

Could he see the goosebumps spreading across your skin at the mere sound of his voice?      

“Next time, I want you to look at me when you say it.”  He bent down only slightly, aiding your efforts just enough that you could obey. 

His clear eyes glinted patiently between his dark lashes.  Dark brows, dark beard.  They were like signal fires along an unknown path.  No choice but to give yourself up and follow.

“Yes, sir.”  A slight smile pulled at the corner of your lips as the first flutter of heat worked its way from your cheeks down to the echoing emptiness in the cradle of your hips.

“Good.  I like to begin with an inspection.  To assess your readiness, and to make sure your healed from the previous session.”

“I’m ready,” you quickly admitted when his bare hand grazed against the side of your cheek.  You turned into it, starved for even the slightest touch of his roughened palm.

“And I like to take my time exploring what’s mine,” he rumbled, firmly snagging a hold of your chin.  A gesture that simultaneously chastised you for speaking out of turn, and possessively staked his claim. 

You let out a surprised breath, and he took the opening as an invitation to slip his fingers inside your parted mouth.  Two at first, and you instinctively flattened your tongue and closed around their impressive girth. 

“That’s it.”  A short hum of approval followed, as your eyes slipped closed while you sucked them deeper into your throat.  “Don’t overexert yourself just yet.  There’s plenty of time to show me how much you can take.”

He let you savor him a bit before he pulled out with a wet pop of skin and spit, and you nearly fell forward at the loss.  You licked at the salty trail his skin left behind on your lips.  

“Turn around and bend over the stool.”  He pushed a plushily upholstered ottoman closer behind you.  It was the perfect height to kneel and bend against as your arms fell over the other side. 

“Open your legs wider, don’t be shy.”  He folded up the hem of your skirt and brazenly pawed at the meat of your ass in wide circles.  You felt the stretch and pull at your exposed holes, and you wondered if the pads of his fingers were abrasive enough to leave scratches behind. 

In the way his voice had already left etchings on your mind.

“Christ, you’re soaked.  Have you been touching yourself?”  It was barely even a question, the inflection missing from his even tone.

“Yes.”  He pulled his hands away at your answer, leaving a chill in its absence, intentionally.  “Sir,” you quickly corrected.

“Good girl.”  A harsh clap to your backside was your reward.  It smarted with a sharpness that caught you off guard.  He wasn’t taking it easy anymore.  “What do think about when you play with my sweet little cunt?”  His hand returned between your legs, and with it, a probing forefinger glided along the sensitive split of your folds.

You jumped at the sensation, pulling away from the intimacy of it.  How long had it been since you were touched like this?  Ghost had only ever let you use toys on yourself.  Those were the rules, for your safety and his.  Where were the rules now?

This is what you wanted...

“This, sir,” you answered with more certainty than you felt.  Another slap, and your muscles melted into the ottoman and your legs parted wider to brace for the next impact. 

But it didn’t come.  Instead, he pulled back and cleaned off his slick smeared fingers along the side of your thigh.

“This, sweetheart, is just a warm-up,” his low, sardonic voice crooned, as his hands snagged in your hair and arched you back far enough to see him towering behind you.  The back of your head hit the front of his thighs.  “I’ll try to take it slow this time, but no promises.”

Oh fuck, he was good, you shuddered at the thought.  The unknown.  The waiting.  The surprise.  He ticked the boxes of your kink like he wrote the book himself.  Like he’d been paying attention.  You almost broke scene in your gratitude, but you kept your eyes trained up at him, wondering if he could see it written all over your face.

He must’ve, because for a moment, he broke too.  A subtle crinkle at the corners of his eyes, a brief softness that you would’ve missed if you blinked.  Just before he bent down lower, and spit on your face.

He released your hair as you sputtered in shock when it hit your closed lips with a warm splat.  Your tongue darted out to taste the small piece of himself he offered to you.  Not a kiss so much as a wad of spit on the palm to seal the deal.  A promise to take care of you.

As you moved to catch the drop that rolled down your chin, he took hold of your wrists and held them above your head.  With a quickness that left your mind spinning, he knotted a loop of smooth rope around each one, binding them together like a sturdy set of cuffs.  He slung another loop over the exposed wooden beam along the ceiling.

Handy, you thought as he tied it off with a slipknot that left you hanging up on your tip toes.  Once again, the ottoman slid underneath you, but this time you kneeled on it.  He eyed you up and down, making sure you were secure before letting go of the steadying arm at your waist.

You weren’t weightless.  You knew this about yourself.  No one picked you up and carried you around because you were so tiny and pocket-sized.  You were just a woman, and hadn’t met someone big enough to throw you around like you were made of air.

You had substance.  You were made of things.  Matter and atoms, and particles, or whatever.  Flesh and bones.

So, when you hung there suspended, it felt like a dream, and all you could do was focus on the parts of you that felt contact.  Your wrists.  Your knees.  The ropes that cut into your skin, the plushness that kept you from hitting the floor.  You established your center of gravity and braced for the worst with an anticipatory thrumming low in your belly.  Deep within the cradle of your hips.

Nothing would pitch you over.  You could take anything. 

True to his word of being honest about what he was going to do, he flashed the paddle in front of you.  As wide as his hand, it was made of wood and wrapped in leather.  It made Ghost’s crop look like a feather duster.

You let out a clarifying breath through your teeth, licking at your spit-soaked lips to find that tether.  To his promise that burned sweet like spearmint and menthol tobacco.

“Anything you want say before we start?”  His rough-edged voice posed both challenge and threat.

It was the first stop on the train, you reminded yourself.  And he was making sure you knew you could get off anytime.

“No, sir—”

The words barely left your lips before he delt the first blow.  The slap of leather to skin echoed through the house, bounced off the windows and the walls. 

You didn’t scream, not yet, but the sting welled in your eyes to match the blooming fire on your ass.  When the second one swiftly followed, and even harder than the first, you nearly swallowed your tongue to stifle a gasp, wondering if he wanted to hear you. 

But you weren’t an actress.  This wasn’t for show.  If he wanted to hear you scream, to see you cry, he had to earn it.  Right there alongside you.

The third and fourth came slower and with slightly less force, but the fifth nearly rattled your teeth. 

“Oh, fuck!”  You finally exclaimed, no longer able to blink back the tears.  

“You liked that one, did you?”  He had the nerve to laugh behind you.  Was he emboldened by your feedback?  Was he enjoying this as much as you?

It wasn’t long before you lost track of how many whacks you’d taken.  He didn’t bother counting them aloud like some clock ticking away the time.  There wasn’t a limit.  The only one who could stop it was you.

“Had enough, yet?”  He checked in, winded from his own exertion. 

“No, sir.”  The words came slower, as if you had to pluck them out of a messily discarded pile in some dark corner, the more your strength drained away.  You were so close.  Right there on the brink.  You could see it like a trail disappearing over the horizon.

A steadying hand found your shoulder, squeezed warm and firm, as he moved closer behind you.  Enough to whisper in your ear.

“I’m not going to stop until you break.”

With the last command, and a final searing crack, you felt the fresh gush of squirt as you finally let go.  The scream you’d been waiting for.  That maybe he had been, too.

The sweet release that stole your breath and your mind, and dragged you all the way under.  And he hadn’t even touched you.  There was no vibrator strapped to your thigh.  Just a gentle hand on your shoulder.  The polarity to the abuse on your ass.  Nerves flayed and blown wide, you still needed the one thing that would pull you back together.

“Touch me, please,” you whimpered, with a voice hoarse from crying.  “I need to come.”  Deep in the subspace, you sagged limply against your bonds. 

“I can’t deny you anything, sweetheart.  Not when you ask so nicely.”

He pulled the quick release on the rope and caught you against his chest.  Sitting back on his chair, he held you facing forward onto his lap.  You were boneless, propped up only where he held you tightly in his grip.  Careful not to hold your neck, he instead wrapped his forearm under your breasts, cupping one in his palm through the thin silk fabric of your slip and pinning your bound wrists to your chest.

His other hand started at your mound of curls and trailed lower, parting the folds to slowly reach the tender bud at its apex.  He brushed it once, twice, before reaching lower.  Swirling circles around your opening, tracing along the trembling rim before gliding back up again. 

You squirmed weakly against his hips, desperate to touch him back.  To guide his hand where you wanted him to go, but you were helpless to do anything but weather his patience.  To be led at the pace he set.

His beard grazed the top of your shoulder and along the side of your neck.  In your addled brain, you imagined that he kissed you there, that his lips and tongue and teeth met skin.  That the ragged breaths of his need matched your own.

As his thumb worked the pearl of your clit in faster, deliberate circles, those thick fingers you suckled earlier slid deep into your walls.  The achingly tight stretch, combined with the precious friction brought you to a roaring climax of moaned oaths and sounds you’d never heard before.

“You did so good.”  You felt his hot breath against your shoulder as you shattered around him, along with a quick, supportive peck of his soft lips.  Too soft and too brief to register over the riot in your blood.  “I’m feeling generous.  Let’s try something else.”

A pouty whine of doubt was all you could offer, still in the incomparable thrall of an orgasm in subspace.  You couldn’t say no.  So deep under his sway, you’d give him anything.  Let him do anything.  There was no room for resistance in that vast, cloudy place. 

But you didn’t know what else was left.  What laid ahead was too far beyond your reach.

No thoughts, only sensations.  You couldn’t even focus enough to see beyond the fog.  All that held you up was the sound of his voice.  The strength of his arms as he lifted and turned your dead weight, hooking your wrists around his neck.  His hand never leaving your throbbing cunt.

“None of that.  You’ll like it, I promise.  But you’ll have to trust me.”  He curled his fingers forward, hooking deeper in a way that had you muffling your wild shrieks into his chest.  “You do, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, until he pulled his fingers away.  You clenched down harder and sank against them, but he slipped them free despite the protest.

“Words, remember?  Need to know you’re still with me.”  He swatted your cheek with the same sticky, wet palm.  Not enough to hurt, but it pulled you back out just enough to speak.

“Yes,” you answered, biting your lip to see if it was still there.  That you weren’t just a cloud of disembodied mist.  “I trust you,” as another slap opened your eyes to meet his. 

He really expected you to keep up the formalities after what just happened?  The world was a different place.  Surely the continents had shifted, and the oceans had dried up.

But there he was, you noted as he came into focus.  You hadn’t just imagined him.  Those signal fires lit up to guide you once more through the dark.  There was a freckle on his nose.  A dimple just above his beard.  He seemed to pause as well, and you realized how firmly he was pinched with restraint.  How tightly he held his own need for release. 

If it was a word he wanted, you’d give it to him.

“Sir,” you finally finished, with a small smile pulling at your tingling cheek.

“There’s a girl,” he said with a low chuckle, as he carried you to a different room.

One that smelled like sandalwood and citrus, with walls of such a bright white that you buried your face further into his shoulder to shield your eyes from it.  The fuzzy, light flannel was a soothing contrast to the sting at your backside.  It still pulsed and burned with each course of blood through the muscle and fat.

“You made quite a mess of yourself, I’m afraid.  Need to clean you up.”  The sound of creaking metal and the spray of water were harsh to your ears.

A strangled sound escaped your lips, half a cry, half a whimper.  This was going to hurt.  Your overexerted pussy perked up at the prospect of it.  It was a devious little thing, swollen and puffy with eagerness that your body could survive another round of punishment.

No, it wasn’t punishment, you corrected yourself.  It was what you needed.

He set you down slowly onto the closed toilet seat, untied your hands and pulled the silk shift up over your head like a doll being undressed and put to bed.  The sleek porcelain was so cool against your bare skin that you shivered at the loss of its paltry heat. 

“I’m right here.”

Keeping his eyes on you and his hands not far away, lest you fall over, he arranged a chair made of PVC pipe into the open shower area and stripped from his own clothes with a quickness that spoke to his own enthusiasm.  It was either that, or a natural efficiency with which he did all things. 

Pants, shirt, boots.  Until all that was left was the dark hair that covered him in varying degrees of masculine thickness from head to toe, and his briefs.  An erection tented the fabric to such a painful degree that you reached out for it, only to be distracted away.

“This one’s all about you.  Don’t tempt me to change my mind,” he slanted you a look that guaranteed you’d regret it as he mouthed at the back of your hand absently.

Two kisses?  You could get greedy for them if you weren’t careful.

But before you could muster any disappointment, he had you by the arms again and positioned you over the makeshift chair.  You sat astride it, with your ass facing just out of the stream of water and an opening below for easy access between your legs.  Your tits draped over the top.

He kneeled in front you, all the better to watch you to submit to him, when your rational brain was clamoring to find your safe word.  Abraded skin meeting hot water was a next level consequence that you weren’t prepared to face with him.

You usually did that part alone with a bottle of wine, your comfort candle, and your favorite movie waiting for you on the softness of your sofa.

But the endorphins that kept you down in the subspace also kept you pliant, giddy with desire.  Fearless.  Reckless, you would’ve argued, if you’d been in some other state of mind. 

Not when you still felt the aftershocks of bliss, and the rawness of your paddling.  Instead, you did your best not to flinch as he directed the steaming water along your skin.  Where you expected a searing torture, there was instead a satisfying burn.  Just shy of scalding.  Just shy of too much.  It heated you up like a cauterizing iron to a wound.  A healing type of hurt. 

Unlike a misplaced hand shying away from a hot stove, you leaned into it.  Arched against it like a bear to tree bark.  That itch you’d never been able to reach.  Dark and subterranean, it skittered around underneath, unable to be caught by the light.

And just when you thought you’d had enough—when the nerves began to die out under the overwhelming blaze—he turned it up hotter still.  A new wave of pleasure and pain, as the backs of his knuckles caressed the needy patch of your sex. 

Violence on one side, and serenity on the other.  Like two sides of a coin flipping end over end into an infinite universe.  It built a force within you that finally collapsed on itself, consuming you whole.  Slower, and somehow more shocking in its intensity than the first.

“Is this how stars are made?”  The last dizzying thought before you slipped beyond reach.

You awoke as if from a dream some time later, with your head in his lap and wrapped in a velvety soft gray robe.  Big enough to fit you like a blanket, it must’ve been his.  The clarity hit you fast, and you sat up with a start.  The waiting surge of adrenaline that always followed a scene found you well-rested. 

“I am so sorry.”

“Easy now.  Here, drink this.”  He adjusted himself to move with you, not letting you go as you tried to bolt, and tipped a bottle full of water towards your lips.

It even had a straw.  How thoughtful. 

“Thank you,” you added, not able to meet his assessing gaze.  Had you even said that yet?  Where were your manners?

“You’re welcome,” he answered breezily.  As if not really knowing what to say himself.

Probably because you squirted all over his expensive looking ottoman and said weird things about turning into a constellation when you came your brains out.

“I don’t want to keep you any longer.  I didn’t mean to take up your whole day.”  You looked at the clock and couldn’t believe it was already evening.

How long had he sat there just holding you?  Your empty stomach reminded you of the food you’d meant to stop for on the way home.

“Are you hungry?  I can order dinner if you want to stay a bit longer.”  He sounded more confident after you’d drained the water and handed it back to him.

You never wanted to leave the cocoon he’d wrapped you in, but it was best to take it slow as you stood to find your discarded clothes tucked behind the sofa. 

“I actually made plans, but next time, yeah?”  You assured him, when he looked at you so vulnerably that you reached for him.  It was only a brief touch to his forearm, but he seemed surprised by it.  “Will you send me your availability?”

A shitty way to say, “You just changed my life,” but you hoped there would be a next time.  That there was still more you could do for each other. You still had to hold up your end of the bargain.

“My calendar’s wide open, sweetheart.”

[sheerfreesia007]

Confession to Quench Your Thirst

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Word count: 1,203

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: Changbin needs your help with something that he forgot back at his apartment. What happens when he blurts out a confession as his way to try and convince you to help him?

Agi: Baby

You frowned softly as you fought with the stray strands of hair that refused to lay flat on your now straightened hair. Today you were supposed to be meeting up with some of your girlfriends for brunch to sit and catch up after not having a lot of time to meet. It had been almost a full month of nonstop work for all of you and you were desperate for some girl time. Huffing softly you gritted your teeth before giving up on your hair as you heard your cellphone begin to ring with Changbin’s ringtone.

Smiling softly you looked over to where it sat on your vanity table and saw Changbin’s goofy face filling the screen as it rang. You easily slid your finger across the screen and answered the call, putting it on speaker phone before turning back to your mirror and trying once more to get your flyaway hairs to lay flat.

“City morgue, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em!” you answer cheerfully with a happy grin on your face. The answering sigh makes you chuckle excitedly before Changbin answers.

“You know I don’t understand you when you do this, Agi.” he whines softly and you laugh even louder at his slight annoyance of your joke. Your stomach also flutters and somersaults at the sweet nickname he always calls you when you two talk.

“Aw c’mon Bin Man! It’s just a joke. I’ve got loads of them.” you tell him cheerily and he sighs once more before you indulge him. “What do ya need Bin Man? I thought you were pumping iron today.” you tease him.

“I swear-” he begins as you laugh delightedly before he cuts himself off. “I am at the gym today but I need a favor from my favorite Agi.” he says suddenly and almost pleading with you. You smile softly knowing that he probably forgot something and needed it for his gym session.

“What’d you forget?” you ask and he squawks loudly as you grin.

“Why do you think I forgot something Agi?” he asks, offended and you laugh softly at his question before shaking your head.

“Bin Man, we all know you can’t multitask to save your life sweetheart. It’s not that much of a secret.” you tease him gently and he huffs into the phone causing you to laugh once more. “C’mon just tell me what you need me to grab for you. I’m heading out to brunch with the girls soon so tell me now so I have enough time to get it to you before heading to brunch.” you explain to him and hear him grumble lowly into the phone.

“I forgot my water bottle and the gym has run out of their water bottles too. Can you please grab it for me from the apartment?” he asks pleadingly and you smile knowingly at the man.

“I don’t know Bin.” you begin to say as you grab your purse from your bed and double check to make sure your wallet and keys are inside before you slip a pair of sunglasses over your face and start walking to your front door.

“I’ll make it up to you if you just do me this one favor, Agi I promise!” he cries into the phone and you sigh softly trying to sound as put out for doing this favor for him as you possibly can just to tease him further. You love teasing Changbin because he’s such an expressive man as it is but when he’s being teased it’s so much more. You can just picture him now standing in the gym on the phone with you, bouncing from one foot to the other as he anxiously looks around the gym while his cheeks heat up at your teasing. You know his lips are twisting into a slight pout.

“I don’t know.” you say softly as you make your way down the stairs of your apartment complex and over to Chanbin and Hyunjin’s door on the floor below yours, thankful that you live in the same apartment complex as all the boys. You had been so excited when Changbin had told you that they were moving into your apartment complex because it meant that you would get to spend more time with him. And ever since they had moved you would either be at his apartment or him and Hyunjin would invade yours, it was a great set up and one that you hoped stayed that way for awhile. “Where’s Hyunjin? Why can’t he bring you the water bottle?” you ask as you slip your key into his door and easily walk inside, you knew as soon as he asked you for something you would do whatever you could to give it to him. Your relationship was just a constant give and take between the two of you, always making sure to check on each other and give each other everything and whatever you needed. You loved that about your relationship with Changbin, you knew without a doubt that if you were ever in need of something he would make sure you got one way or another and it was vice versa with you for him.

“He’s in Paris for a fashion show. Agi I swear if I had anyone else to grab my bottle I’d ask them.” he whines softly and you tut at him trying to calm down. You walk into their kitchen and spot the lime green water bottle with a smile forming on your lips.

“What’s the magic word?” you ask teasingly as you grab the bottle and turn around to head out of their apartment.

“I love you.” he responds instantaneously and you feel your eyes widen as you grow silent replaying his words. You can tell Changbin is shocked at his bold confession as well since he hasn’t made a noise since saying those three little words. But just as you take in that moment of pure love between the two of you he’s starting to stutter as nerves grip him. “I-I I’m s-s-”

“I’m gonna kiss you when I get there. You better be ready for it.” you blurt out suddenly and grin widely as happiness and giddiness fills your body. Suddenly you hear his soft giggles and your heart soars with happiness at how cute he sounds.

“I get a kiss just for saying I love you?” he asks, sounding more confident now and you grin as you make it to your car with his water bottle. “What do I get if I tell you I’ve been in love with you for months now?” he asks teasingly now.

“Face full of kisses and your own I love you too confession.” you tell him boldly and his answering giggle rings over your phone speakers as you begin driving to him. “You’ve got about ten minutes to prep those plush lips babe I’m already on the way.” you tell him smugly and you can’t help your own chuckle as Changbin’s giggle rings out again.

“I can’t wait Agi. Drive safely.” he coos at you before you both hang up. Your grin is near blinding as you hurriedly drive to the gym to meet up with your boyfriend.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

hi brainrot! for the mini/regular hc prompt (your choice!), we all know nadia's scientifically minded self admires mc for their curiosity in canon. i was wondering how the m6 would react to an mc who's extremely curious and inquisitive by nature, always asking questions to bond with others and learn about the world around them, but is maybe a bit self-conscious of it because their curiosity has sometimes been treated as a nuisance in the past (definitely not projecting lol 😅). what would the m6 make of mc's inquisitive nature? what would they think of mc allowing themself to show their love by being curious, asking them questions about what they're doing or something completely random just because? how would they reassure mc about that insecurity? sorry this is so long LOL, thanks for reading and no pressure to write this request! thank you for sharing your writing and i hope your hand feels better soon! <3

The Arcana Mini-HCs: With a curious MC

Julian: a true scholar, he's as invested in soaking up the information around him as you are. also finds your detailed attention flattering

Asra: it was so difficult early on, because of the headaches. now they're in love with how well you two enable each other's curiosity

Nadia: adores this part of you and loves questions she can research and then come back to you with answers for. constantly praises it

Muriel: has a hard time with it at first because of how much talking it makes him do. highkey loves how you light up with wonder from it

Portia: is exactly like you and adores it. might well up with happy tears that someone's finally interested in her the way she is in them

Lucio: look, after three years of no friends, having someone pay this much attention to him and make him feel this important is awesome

[chrisbesitos]

I need a blurb of Chris saying he never had a favorite color before he met younger reader

ex: Chris and younger!reader were going on their first date. It was all cute and great energy until Chris asked “what do you think my favorite color is?” Yn spent a while looking into Chris blue eyes and said “orange!” Was she right? No. Truth is Chris doesn’t have a favorite color, but ever since yn said orange he could never look at orange the same. Orange reminded him of yn and her beautiful smile as her eyes lit up when she said the color. Now it’s current day and yn bought Chris a gift (like an orange sweatshirt) and yn said “why is ur favorite color orange?” And Chris told her the story on why orange is his fav color

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it made me think of you

"You have ice cream in your nose." Chris said, pointing to Y/N's nose, she crossed her eyes trying to look laughing. "Let me clean this." He rubbed her nose, cleaning the pink from the strawberry ice cream she was eating.

They went out to the movies, it was the first they hung out without Chris' brothers and their friends. Every time they hung out, they never could have some time alone, because Chris' brothers are always interrupting and being annoying. So, after a long time, Chris decided to invite Y/N to go to the movies, but only he and her, his brothers wasn't invited. So, it was a date.

"Is all gone?" Y/N asked, showing her nose to Chris, he denied laughing. She strained her legs to Chris' lap, biting the cone of her ice cream, the boy slightly caressed her skin with his fingertips. "What do you think my favorite color is?" She asked with her mouth full.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, dummy." Chris said, pinching Y/N's thigh. She giggled, kicking his chest. "Well, your favorite color is probably green, because you know, you wear this color all the time." He said, smiling. He's just joking, because he knows everything about you. "You know your soul is pink, I love when you wear pink."

"I wear pink all the time." Y/N said, Chris nodding with his head.

"My turn, what do you think my favorite color is?" Chris asked, throwing his napkin on the car dashboard, Y/N touched her chin thinking about the answer. She scrunched her nose, her lips leaning in a smile.

"You always wear orange, so orange is your favorite color." Y/N said, touching Chris' chin with her foot, she was only wearing socks. The boy held her foot and put it back on his lap, laughing. "Am I right?"

"Yeah, I like orange." Chris smiled, rubbing her legs passionately. Y/N smiled proudly.

But it was a lie, Chris didn't have a favorite color. He likes all of them, but he never had a favorite. But since this day, Chris's favorite color is orange. Every time he sees the color orange, he remembers the day of their first date. Y/N's pretty smile, her bright eyes, the pink sweater she was wearing. She's his favorite girl, so orange will always make he remember her.

When Y/N was shopping with Nick, she found it a orange hoodie and made her remember Chris, so she bought. Later in the day, when they were together in the room, Y/N was showing her new clothes and she gave Chris the present she bought.

"Did you like it? It's orange and you love orange." Y/N said, smiling and holding the hoodie. Chris nodded, smiling like her. He grabbed the hoodie and put it on his body. "Fits perfectly."

"Yeah, I love it." He said, Chris held her waist and pulled Y/N closer to him. He kissed her nose. "Thank you so much, babydoll."

"Why is your favorite color orange?" She asked, with her hands around his neck, inhaling his scent. He rubbed her waist, smiling at her question.

"Because of you." He touched her nose. "I didn't have a favorite color until the night you told me my favorite is orange, since then it is my favorite. Reminds me of you."

"Really?"

"Yes, make me think of you." He gave her a peck on her lips. "And because it fits me really well, don't you think?" Y/N giggled, nodding with her head. She loves Chris so much, he's the man of her life, definitely.

they're so babies 😭😭😭 i love write younger!reader

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2

taglist | masterlist

[xomakara]

Bump and Trim

SUMMARY |  San helps you trim the hair around your intimate parts since you're pregnant.

PAIRINGS |  San x Reader

GENRE |  smut, established relationship, pregnancy, non-idol au

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (both f/m receiving/giving), praise kink, pet names

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

LENGTH |  2,285 words

TAGLIST | --

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚

“San! Honey!” You called out from the bathroom, waiting for you husband of many years to answer your beckon. It took only a few moments and then you were face to face with his handsome self leaning against the doorway, a smile plastered to his lips.

“Hmm?” he hummed at you and you tried really, really hard to not focus on how that particular little noise was going straight to the region you wanted to shave. Damn his voice for having so much control of you.

Instead, you held out the razor towards him and smiled. His brow raised in confusion and you wiggled the object closer. “San, can you help me shave? I can't reach down there and my belly is in the way and..."

"Love, why do you need to shave? Won't it affect the baby? Not to mention how bad it'd be if you got a cut." San interjected before you could finish.

"But it's a freaking forest down there." You pouted, letting your hand drop to your belly that housed your unborn child, his hand covering your own. You saw a spark of a firelight behind San's eyes as his attention fell to your belly and his hand rubbed circles gently across its surface.

"How about we trim it to keep it nice and tidy?" He suggested and then kissed the bridge of your nose to add emphasis to his desire to not harm you or your womb mate. "And then after you give birth, I will personally take care of the grooming of the forest that will reside between those heavenly legs of yours. Do you agree?"

You pretended to mull it over for a few moments, humming in feigned thought before giving a small giggle as San's hand cupped your ass and pressed himself firmly against your swollen midsection. A quiet moan left your throat and his fingers dug into the flesh. He needed you; his hormones were in just as much disarray as yours.

"Lovely idea, my dearest husband." You managed to rasp.

"Indeed it was..." his voice dropped several octaves.

He picked you up, easily and carefully, and then sat you gently on the bed, laying out towels and propping a pillow to lean against your back, keeping your pelvic region open to him. Carefully he separated your legs, just a few inches, before wetting the pubic area a little with a wet cloth he retrieved from the bathroom. He got the clippers ready and checked everything and you couldn't help but grin from ear to ear, eager to feel his tender hands between your thighs.

"What is so funny, wife?" He questioned, turning the clippers on before gently taking some hairs between the blades. He clipped them neatly, making sure none was too long or too short and didn't make a mess. Your skin tingle from the new sensation.

"Just your adorable concentration." You giggled softly, propping the pillow and yourself a little more and caressing San's smooth face while he worked on a very ticklish area. It wasn't an unusual task for him to do this, and you thanked your lucky stars every day that San was comfortable with things most males were shy with. He was gentle, loving and quite talented.

"I'm concentrating on an area that I have very deep appreciation for." He hummed happily as he snipped another tiny clump of hair.

"Oh, so you care more about my forest than about your baby and wife, do you?" You teased, playfully poking his cheekbone. He smacked your finger with his own finger, his lips quirked in a smile.

"If I don't tend to the forest, how else will you allow me access to the tree situated in the middle?" He answered.

The statement made you break into a loud burst of giggles. "You're so weird sometimes!" You snorted through a laugh, resting the back of your head on the pillow behind you. He looked up from his careful work, grinning from ear to ear, baring teeth, tongue stuck out slightly.

"Only for you, babe." He teased back.

"If only my husband would always stay between my thighs...all my stress would go away and the world would be right again." You stated boldly, feeling empowered in that moment to admit how much you craved your husband's attention and adoration. It felt great.

"Aren't you needy all the time?" He added.

"You're the one who made me like this, San."

"Guess I better hurry this trimming up so I can fulfill my wife's request..." He growled.

Once your lower pelvic region was nicely trimmed, he was going to pull back and stop there. However, that didn't exactly go according to plan.

You let out a small whine from behind clenched teeth and pouted at him, making a shoving motion between your legs with your hand. His gaze fell there and he knew immediately you didn't want any of this stopping now that you were feeling this aroused. "I'm waiting, husband."

It's been four months since you and San stopped having sex because of the pregnancy and it was really, really frustrating. Of course the doctor said it would be safe to have sex during pregnancy, but this was San and he was a worrywart for both yourself and your little one.

"Are you certain, my love?" His expression was that of longing. Longing to touch you. Longing to have you beneath his skilled fingers. Longing to claim what belonged to him and no other.

"The doctor said it was fine, San." You replied. He waited still. "I just...can you please, please get to business here? I'm fucking horny as fuck right now and I just need you like eat me out or something."

And that he did, slowly and deliciously dragging his tongue across every bit of skin from inner thighs to pubic bone. He enjoyed the tangy taste of your sweetness on his tongue and you enjoyed the way he groaned his enjoyment of it, the vibrations from his mouth on your sex, hitting you just the right way, sending hot sparks of arousal up and down your spine, leaving you breathless and clutching at the blankets. Your body trembled from all the stimulation he was sending through your being, tongue dipping into every fold and tasting every part.

San held you gently, his hands cradling your swollen belly while he made slow love to you with his mouth. His tongue stroked and swirled across your clit and then sucked ever so slightly upon the bundle of nerves, smiling at each gasp, groan, and moan that escaped your parted lips. You clasped your hand on his hand that rested on your belly and gripped your other hand into the bed sheets.

"I can't believe that our daughter is growing in your beautiful body right now..." He murmured after another tender lick that ended at your sweet entrance. "She'll be the cutest little lady that anyone could ever meet, next to you, my love."

"Keep- keep talking, honey..." Your body spasmed, waves of heat pulsing through you, getting closer and closer to completion. He rubbed your belly with one hand and then made sure to find one of your own hands and laced his fingers with yours.

"So strong and gorgeous, aren't you, my queen." He breathed against the apex between your thighs, feeling them quake under his hold. You moaned a bit louder, losing your sense of volume, knowing you had a very sexy and attractive husband between your legs who was loving your pussy and teasing you to the point of almost being able to orgasm.

Almost.

"Please..." You begged him, pleading with him to help bring you that last bit further.

"I love you, y/n" he smiled from the spot where his nose was nestled among your trimmed, yet moist curls and licked a little longer, pressing his thumb against your nub, stroking at the sensitive flesh. His long fingers prodded against your cunt and slid inside without warning, giving you the opportunity you needed. He curled his fingers just right and pulled another loud groan from you. Your back arched off the bed, but he leaned down quickly, laying his head onto your belly and rubbing it a little firmer, so you were laid flush to the bed.

"O-oh!" Was all you could say, every muscle tensing, a feeling of euphoria washing over you in waves of hot pleasure, shuddering around San's fingers. As if on cue, he removed his digits slowly from inside of you, placing soft kisses and kitten licks on your clitoris, down along your slit. It didn't matter much, though because your body went slack against the bed, breath coming in gasps and your entire being trembling, dripping wet and covered in sweat.

"Done eating my forest?" You groaned out, trying to catch your breath, cheeks flushed from the wonderful moment he just gave you. He chuckled and kissed his way up your body, mindful of your pregnant belly, and claimed your lips sweetly.

"Most certainly. I can see my way through." San joked and nuzzled his nose along your temple lovingly. "You okay, my love? Was that good?"

"So, so amazing. Thank you so much, San." You blushed from your head down to your neck, hiding your face in your husband's shoulder, biting down slightly, wanting to return the favor, even if it couldn't be nearly as spectacular as his skilled tongue could do.

He flinched at the feeling and shivered, laughing at your bashfulness. "And how would you repay my deed?"

"How about my hands?" You suggested, a smile spreading across your face. He helped you move into a comfortable position and leaned down to kiss the bridge of your nose tenderly.

"As long as they're attached to an amazing wife, anything will do." San moaned softly into another kiss to your mouth.

His pelvic muscles quivered when you took hold of his heavy length and stroked carefully along the length and felt the hot length pulse in your fingers, a whisper of a name falling past his lips, mingling with his soft moan, filling the quiet bedroom. San bucked lightly into your hand, wanting more friction and you were quick to oblige by running your palm up and down a little faster, the girth twitching when you squeezed just enough around him.

His hands took hold of your free one, intertwining fingers, placing sweet kisses on your knuckles and panting loudly, groans of praise and excitement muffled with his sweet touches. The scent of his excitement, precum leaking profusely from his swollen cockhead, causing your hand to slide easily across his shaft.

"I love you so much..." San murmured in your ear. You hummed your approval of the lovely words, brushing your thumb over his tip, swiping more beads of precum from the tip. With a loud exhale, his brow furrowed, chest heaving with the breaths.

"Are you close?" You asked him, licking your lips and squeezing again, thumb brushing and feeling the blood coursing underneath the flesh. It throbbed under your hand and it made you want to taste him, even if the sensation wasn't quite the same.

"Gods...don't stop, babe...right there..." his moans grew higher pitched as he arched off the bed, movements growing erratic, jerking himself with your hand around his aching cock. You increased the pace a bit more and kissed his flushed cheek when he craned his neck to rest his head on the pillow behind him.

San couldn't quite form sentences anymore. Just pleas for more, to keep going. To milk his thick shaft for all its worth. And that was exactly what you did. In seconds his warm, sticky cum painted across his chest and spilled a little on your belly, pooling above your naval. The creamy white substance oozed from him, overflowing as you continued your slow, languid strokes, relishing the feeling of his climax in your fingers, his shaky, erotic expressions.

The moment his breathing slowed and his body relaxed against the bed once more, he let out a loud sigh. A satisfied sound that left no doubt he enjoyed every minute of that. Your lips found his own in a sweet and tender kiss.

"That was glorious." San grinned lazily from beside you.

You giggled a bit at the euphoria covering his face. He sat up, cleaned the two of you up a bit before pulling you against his frame, wrapping his arms around you lovingly. His attention turned towards the baby bump between you. He was silent for a few minutes, admiring the view he had of his future child in there and the feel of you cuddled in his arms, a glow about you he adored.

The baby kicked and moved in you, causing you to squeak. The look on San's face went from surprise to full fledged affection for both you and your child. His hand immediately came to your stomach and felt the baby shift about, the sensation a little uncomfortable to you, but wonderful all the same.

"Already so protective." You hummed and laid your palm across San's, helping him map your stomach.

"How can I not be? You and our baby are everything I've always wanted." San admitted, watching the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you laughed and how they closed when you were pleased with something he said or done.

"God, I hope the baby has your eyes, San." You whispered into the evening air, San kissing the crown of your head and continuing to caress your stomach as you two snuggled together in bed.

You would just have to wait and find out a few months later.

[tpwk-formula1]

i loveee your fics so sooo much!! could i order a gluten-free with red sauce, tomatoes, roasted peppers, garlic, a root beer and a pink lemonade for the drinks with dessert served by sir lewis hamilton pleaseee thank youu <3

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

gluten-free enemies to lovers red sauce rough sex tomatoes "do you enjoy pissing me off?" roasted peppers "such a good whore" garlic "I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy up" root beer daddy kink pink lemonade degrading kink dessert yes served by Lewis Hamilton

Lewis x enemy reader

TW quicky in public, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, use of the word slut

WC 1100+

Y/N POV

"Lewis, can you go back to the garage or something. Literally anywhere but in this room," I say while looking at my computer trying to get my work done before the race was set to begin in a few hours.

"I quite enjoy being in here though," Lewis said with a shrug and sat down in front of me making me groan and roll my eyes.

"Why are you fighting it?" Lewis questions making my face grow hot but I don't say anything.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" Lewis snapped making me instantly look up from my computer to find Lewis's hard gaze on me.

"Well?" Lewis questions again when I didn't answer him.

"I haven't even done anything to piss you off," I tell him softly not being confident in my own voice. Lewis just scoffs and shakes his head before standing and rounding the table that was once between us but now I'm sitting on top of it with Lewis between my legs making me gasp at how quickly it all changed.

"Stop denying us," Lewis whispers against my lips before placing a quick kiss and pulling back slightly to stare into my eyes.

Lewis and I didn't get along. I was the girl who forced him to do all his media responsibilities and one of the few people in Mercedes who doesn't bow down for him.

"Lewis, you have a race," I tell him softly knowing we both would lose track of time and he would be late.

"I can be quick. Can you?" Lewis asks with a smirk across his face. I just stare at Lewis before trailing my eyes towards the door to find it already locked. I realized this was exactly what Lewis had planned coming into here.

"Just be quick. Don't get me fired," I tell him while pulling at the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss. Lewis quickly closes the gap between us and pulling me in for a messy make out session. One that always left me needing more.

"Stop fucking fighting with me," Lewis said against my lips before taking my bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a rough pull making me gasp at the shock of pain that when straight to my pussy turning me on almost instantly.

"Stop being an egotistical asshole," I fight back which resulted in Lewis laying a firm slap onto my covered tit. It made me jump and whimper but always just helped add to the throbbing going on between my thighs.

"Don't be a brat," Lewis says while pulling my shirt off leaving me in just my bra before he pulls off his shirt and makes quick work of unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off. Once he's bare he works on taking the rest of my clothes off making me whimper softly when the cool air hits my soaked pussy.

"God, you're dripping," Lewis teases before bringing his mouth down and sucking on my clit making me groan out loudly.

"Shut the fuck up, I don't need someone hearing your slutty sounds," Lewis says roughly making me nod my head and bite my lip to try and contain my moans.

Lewis went back to sucking on my clit while slipping two thick fingers into my pussy making me moan at the intrusion.

"So good Daddy," I gasp softly trying to keep my volume down but failing pretty miserably.

"God, you're so responsive," Lewis mumbles against my clit sending new vibrations through my body.

"Can I cum Daddy," I ask needing to cum.

"Beg for it," Lewis mumbled back.

"Please, Daddy. I need to cum so bad. I promise I'll stop fighting, I just need to cum for you Daddy please," I beg softly while shaking slightly from the pleasure coursing through my body. I was actively fighting off my orgasm.

"Such a good whore, cum for me," Lewis groans instantly throwing me over the edge when he takes my clit back into his mouth. I let out a loud pornographic moan knowing if someone was outside the door they would instantly know what was going on inside the room.

"Good girl," Lewis mumbled standing up after helping me ride my orgasm out.

I feel Lewis's tip starting to tease my clit making me whine slightly at the overstimulation before he slips right in making me gasp at being filled completely.

"Fuck Daddy," I moan softly when he starts rocking his hips softly stretching me out enough to take him without any pain.

"So fucking tight," Lewis groans making me whine when he starts thrusting a bit harder.

"God, I've spent so much time in this pussy and it's still tight as the first time," Lewis groans while starting to play with my clit making me gasp at the stimulation.

"So big Daddy," I whine when I feel Lewis's actions speed up again bringing me close to another orgasm.

"God I can feel you clenching to cum again," Lewis groans when his hips start to stutter slightly letting me know he was just as close to cumming as I was.

"Cum for me," Lewis groans before sending one last hard thrust and cumming in me throwing me into another orgasm and instantly starting to shake all over Lewis's cock.

"Fuck daddy," I whine feeling my orgasm last longer than normal. Lewis starts rocking his hips softly riding out our orgasms before slowly slipping out and placing a kiss of my forehead.

"You came in me, Lewis!" I announce loudly when the post orgasm haze wears off.

"I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy up" Lewis said with a smirk as if it made the situation better.

"Lewis," I say seriously making him laugh softly. He pulls me into his arms and sits down in the chair near us letting me relax into his arms.

"I wasn't even thinking. I'm sorry," Lewis says softly after a few moments of silence.

"I mean it's kinda okay cause you're right I love the feeling of your cum filling me up," I saw with a soft smirk on my face. Lewis just smirks before placing a kiss on my lips.

"I knew you were my little cum slut," Lewis says seriously. My cheeks heat slightly at the nickname making me burry my face in Lewis's neck making him laugh softly.

"You need to go soon," I said softly when I looked at the clock near us and say that Lewis was expected to be in his fireproofs and near the car in 30 minutes.

"I can give you 5 more minutes of my time," Lewis says softly while still stroking my back.

"Did I push you too far?" Lewis questions softly making me shake my head no.

"It was perfect. Still can't stand you though," I saw with a small smirk on my face knowing we both knew that was a damn lie.

[primofate]

hey my love, i really really like your ruthless prince. just read it after i got into genshin like 3 months ago, amazing!

but i do have to tell you that you’re not allowed to publish the book, especially to sell it for profit. it’s fanfiction, based on something that is copyrighted. the only reason fanfiction is allowed to exist is because the people who make it don’t get any money from it. what you’re doing is illegal and could get you into serious trouble. for your own sake please leave it on platforms that are free.

it’s not fun but that’s just how it works. i’m in my first year of studying law so if you have any questions i can try and answer them however i might have to refer to outside sources rather than off the top of my head. i apologize for this but i wouldn’t feel right knowing what i did and not saying anything to warn you.

I really hope you come back to my blog and read this.

You are probably the 100th person to come on here and tell me what I'm doing is illegal.

I usually don't get pissed at comments like this but it gets tiring when you get messages like this nearly monthly. AND THEN you're here preaching to me as if I don't know crap. For you to say that you study law and that you're going to try and answer any questions I have...??? Ummmmmm... No thank you.

I think YOU'RE the one who should read up first before sending people things like this.

Here you go: https://www.theverge.com/2021/11/12/22777194/genshin-impact-fanfiction-merchandise-rules-creators

If you don't know where to read, I screenshotted the most important part for you:

MIHOYO ALLOWS FANFICTION TO BE SOLD.

Hope that's clear to you. Some of you really don't know how self-important y'all sound.

Have a good day!

[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag angel baby @guiltyasdave <3 • 18+ under the cut! MDNI!

wip #1 • far too familiar a stranger…feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

a long time ago, logan howlett knew a woman with your face…

i couldn’t not write a ‘worst!logan coming face to face with his tragically dead love interest but from wade’s universe after wade forced her to help them stop the TVA and hating her for bringing up that time in his life until he doesn’t anymore’ fic.

it's crimson because i felt that making whole new mutant reader would be sort of confusing so this fic is in the to the bone universe but it's not the same timeline...if that makes sense lmao

Wade Wilson is the worst neighbor in the entire fucking world. It’s really something you should have known sooner, like ‘the very first day in your new place ending with him breaking in through your window fully suited up after counting the floors wrong and bleeding all over your brand new pottery barn throw rug because he was still a little too concussed to walk’ sooner. Even after that whole fiasco left you with a broken window latch and a beyond fucked non-refundable $80 carpet, you still let yourself entertain his crazy. Just like everyone else whose life Wade crashed into, both physically or metaphorically. And once he's in, you can never really get him back out again. So yeah, maybe this whole thing is your fault. Maybe getting thrown into a barren, dusty void with two somewhat failed X-Men is just all your bad karma manifesting in one huge finger from the universe.

wip #2 • red and yellow kill a fellow! feat. logan howlett & wade wilson

logan doesn’t appreciate you letting wade get one up on him…

finally finally finally getting off my ass and writing logan x reader x wade! i was inspired by this one episode of satc (which is like my favorite show ever bee tee dubs) where charlotte goes out with two guys at the same time and she has sex with one but not the other until one of them catches her with the other guy and they all break it off.

my vision is a little different cause instead of getting mad and leaving when logan finds out reader fucked wade and not him, he figures it's his turn to get even. aka wade in the cuck chair and loving it.

The three of you pass a BMW sitting in a no parking zone, all four windows rolled down as Madonna blasts through the speakers. "So," Wade says, voice breaking the silence for the first time in five minutes. "Who white-washed your guts better?" You nearly trip over your own feet, whipping your head to gape at Wade. "Fucking excuse me?" "You know," Wade shrugs, like it's a perfectly normal thing to ask. The leisurely pace of his stroll not slowing, his hands still stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. "Who carved the lyrical railway better?" He just keeps going as you stare at him with a repulsed look on your face. "The number one stud that's stuffin' your muffin? That's takin the ol' bald-headed gnome for a satisfying stroll in the misty forest. Pick one hot stuff, they all mean the same thing." Before you can even answer there's a rough, questioning grunt from your right and your stomach flips. Oh. Logan, he was still here too. Still here and right next to you, listening. Oh yeah. "You fucked?" You still haven't slept with Logan yet. You turn to him face slowly, eyes a hair wide as you take in the sharp raise of his brow. "Um..." "Whoops," Wade snorts from somewhere behind your shoulder. "Cat's out the bag."

wip #3 • it's the easiest thing (just love me and eat me) feat. logan howlett

it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…

the same requested sub!logan fic from last wednesday just with a new name and weirder energy! like this has really gotten away from me and turned into something that i can't really explain well enough to make it sound like chill...

lots of religious imagery and symbolism...and some metaphors of cannibalism...idk i'm just a girl with religious trauma and a weird blood fetish sue me.

You've come to think that being in bed with Logan is like being in church. The familiar weight of his body pressing you into the mattress is the alter. The heat of it like laying in the burning flame of a candle. The strong planes of his muscles each a different scripture that you take in by touch alone, skating your hands over his skin with something close to worship. Each bead of sweat on his skin feels sacred, a testament to the intensity between you, as though every part of him has been crafted for this moment of devotion. The hard length of his cock carves a place for itself inside you, each heavy smack of his hips punching another desperate sound out of your slack lips. His breath, deep and ragged, is a chant that pulls you into reverence. It puffs against the wild beat of your pulse, his lips brushing over the fever hot plane of your skin. The sound of your name pulled from his mouth sounds like a prayer answered. You can’t help but close your eyes, not in exhaustion, but in a kind of spiritual surrender, like by shutting out the world, you can truly grasp the divinity of it. There's a holiness to the way he holds you—like you’re the only thing worth believing in.

kisses!

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @avocado-writing @superhoeva