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#Brilliant writing the fans will love it
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It’s being furious at Felony for squandering some of the most narratively interesting and thematically poignant villains Star Wars has ever come up with to promote his dumbass ocs and nostalgia bait with legacy characters (actively harming the characterizations and stories of said characters in the process!) hours again
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devilsskettle · 3 months
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i've watched a lot of good films lately in an attempt to catch up with a bunch of movies that have come out recently, but talk to me was the best movie i've seen in a LONG time
#i put off watching it for so long because i was sure it was overrated + i'm generally not a fan of possession movies#(because so many of them try to be the exorcist and they will never be the exorcist. you know how it is)#but holy shit. genuinely a brilliant movie in every aspect of filmmaking + completely aligned with my personal taste#+ exactly what i look for thematically in possession and/or ghost movies#+ the absolute perfect balance between psychological and gory#and like i said SUCH a good cold opening#tbh i think it's a useful trick to know how to get your audience to buy into a supernatural premise from the very first scene#i think that takes some VERY effective + skillful writing and directing#and as someone who again typically does NOT like possession movies i usually end the movie NEVER buying into the story#not because i'm a 'skeptic' or whatever just because the writing doesn't do the work#but SCENE ONE of this movie i was so in it#anyway. movee of all time to me#also from the trailers etc i had thought that that fluffy yellow sweatshirt mia wears at the beginning of the movie was a bathrobe lmao#my first impression of what this movie was gonna be like was NOT correct#anyway 'recently' means in the past 2 years i guess?#actually maybe this post was a lie because i LOVED nope which was also just an absolute cinematic masterpiece#anytime i watch a jordan peele movie it's just like. this man is so far beyond any other filmmaker out there right now#it's almost unfair to watch lol like an olympic gold medalist running laps around a middle school track team#anyway ummm. yeah talk to me was good though
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sunnyside2465 · 2 years
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Am I the only one who is wildly uncomfortable with Rose Tyler and the Doctor's romance?? When they met she was still in her teens. He looked and acted at least in his late 30s. SHE HAD A BOYFRIEND! Like their friendship is nice. I can appreciate that, but a romance???? It makes absolutely no sense to me. She is incredibly immature at times because she is so young and the Doctor's tenth regeneration tried to match that, but he was over a thousand years old and you can't just stop being who you are for the sake of romance. That relationship would've never worked out to be happy and healthy because of that. They just have too many differences. Not to mention she's BARELY LEGAL!!!
Anyway, if Ruby Sunday is the child of Tentoo and Rose I'm honestly going to be so disappointed because A. The original troupe was questionable at best, and B. We don't need to hear about it again.
I do respect those who ship it. I would've shipped it if she were a bit older too. I can't fight with it since it's cannon, and I wouldn't want to regardless.
Opinions??
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cc-kote · 1 year
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God I am so insanely proud of this gd novella of a fic I've been writing for the last month or so. I have the whole thing mapped out (3 acts, but the third act is separated into 2 parts) and act 1 is nearly finished. I just can't believe how much I have done already. For the last 5 years I've been struggling so hard to write anything consistently, like I had my own original stories planned and bits and pieces of them written but I struggled so hard to make the plot coherent and the characters dynamic and it was making me feel so sad and unenthusiastic abt writing. And then I fuckin watched TROS and got so pissed abt how dirty they did my faves that I was suddenly inspired to write my own self indulgent af fix it fic 😂😂😂
It's just so funny to me that the driving force behind me getting back into the swing of writing stories was being so deeply unsatisfied with the fates of my favorite characters that I felt the overwhelming need to take matters Into my own hands and rewrite it in a way that panders to what I want for them.
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afterglowsainz · 1 month
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so it goes… | carlos sainz
summary: carlos has the biggest crush on the famous up and coming actress but she doesn’t know who he is
fc: anya taylor-joy
warnings: this is my first smau so plsss tell me what you think <3 i made it a bit long cause i’m use to write detailed stories but is worth it i swear!! also english is not my first language so there might be mistakes
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ynusername life lately 🧚🏼‍♀️
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user1 she’s so pretty ughhh
user2 y/n please give me just once chance i’m beggin
user3 simping respectfully
carlossainz55 que linda! (so pretty!)
user4 hello??
user5 ariana what are you doing here 😭
bffusername literally my wife 😮‍💨
ynusername me and you forever 🤭
user6 mother
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carlossainz55 great weekend all in all 🏆 podium and good points for the team, ready for the next! 🔜
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user4 let’s gooo smooth operator‼️
user7 forza ferrari 🐎
charlesleclerc great job! double podium next race 👊🏼
user8 brilliant drive carlos!!
user9 VAMOOOOS (let’s go)
user5 okay we see y/n’s best friend in the likes 👀
user10 i think she’s a ferrari fan!
landonorris congrats on the podium or whatever 🙄
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ynusername emma is now on streaming platforms !!! go watch it 🫶🏽
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user1 and they call her the it girl !!!
user2 favorite movie of the year 💞
user3 y/n y/l/n future oscar winner‼️
bffusername GO WATCH MY WIFE’S MOVIE OR ELSE
ynusername you heard her!
carlossainz55 loved the movie!
user4 okay but are we believing he actually saw a romantic period piece or?? 🤨
user5 idk why i kinda believe it solely on the fact that he’s obsessed with y/n 😭
user6 i don’t see the appeal, she’s not all that :/
user4 now i know you did NOT just said that about THE Y/N Y/L/N
user7 y/n drop another movie i’ve already seen this one a thousand times :( (liked by carlossainz55)
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ynusername italian nights 🧿
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bffusername my girlfriend the prettiest of prettiest 🥰
user1 picture at a church and partying with måneskin? ohhh she’s cool cool
user2 carlos i understand you completely
carlossainz55 beautiful!
ynusername thank you! 💕
user3 omg did she actually??
user4 somebody make sure carlos is still alive and breathing pls
user5 finally! my boy has been in the trenches for monthsss
landonorris 👀
user6 now lando what do you know??
(ynusername has started following carlossainz55)
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carlossainz55 summer break 🏁
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user1 well hello there
user2 weird way to ask me to marry you but ofc🤭
user3 not carlos immediately posting a thirst trap after yn followed him 😭
user4 thirst trap seems a bit much…
user3 him just casually posting the most earth shattering hottest pictures out of nowhere??
user4 okay you may have a point
user5 post a warning or something next time jesus
user6 I AM ON MY KNEES PLEASE
user7 dinner would be served, house would be cleaned, kids on bed, anything he wants
ynusername 🥰 (liked by carlossainz55)
carlossainz55 🫶🏽
user8 girl me too
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yourusername beautiful beautiful madrid 🤍
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user1 omg you’re in my city!!!
user2 someone send this to carlos quick!
user3 you’re so beautiful 😻
user4 carlossainz55 my guy this is your chance
user5 you’re STUNNING 🤩
carlossainz55 i need to show you all the nice places🫶🏽 (liked by yourusername)
yourusername omg please!! i need a local tour guide
carlossainz55 😊
user6 omg is this the beginning of something???
user7 i’m shipping them already 🤭
user8 someone check on carlos please‼️
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neil-gaiman · 10 months
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Hi Neil,
I hope this doesn't get buried in the ask box, but if it does, I'll still be glad I sent this, just to know this little lengthy slice of complement and thanks existed in your inbox is enough. I apologize for the length, I am pretty sure the grammar is in tatters...and probably just the general awkwardness in advance.
Frist of all, congratulations for Good Omens Season2, it's a roaring success even here in this...I don't know, bottomless pit? I myself and some others fondly call it the PRC. The show didn't made pass the firewall officially, neither was Prime Video. People still managed to watch it eventually by VPNs, shared accounts and when times are desperate...sorry, piracy. Chinese fans, including myself, using every tool in the shed to try to fool Amazon™ and our goverment, just to watch this on Prime and try to help to manifest S3, is one hell of an experience. This kind of experience is pathetic, ridiculous....and somehow hilarious in a dark, gallows humor way, almost like some bad spy comedy, I just have to share it. Worth all the trouble by the way, the reward at the end of the back channel is...well, some divine comedy to say the very least. All in all, it's a brilliant show and a solid job well-done.
Then some of my personal gratitude. They say good art resonates with your soul, I now know this is just as true as matter and gravity. Since I know Good Omens certainly resonated with mine. I'll redact the typical "depression and anxiety reduced me to a husk, a shadow of my former self" story and get to the result for brevity's sake. I can't write anything meaningful while I know I took joy in writing, I can't finish reading anything longer than a brochure while I know I was such a bookworm in the past. Then I was compelled to get up in the middle of the night, wrote a full 5000 character long analysis after marathoned S2, and then write even more analyses in both Chinese and English. I picked up American Gods because I know I need more Neil Gaiman in my life and then impressed by myself for actually finishes it the second time 5 years later. I didn't know how exactly that happened through one watch of a TV show, but I know I am changed for the better. I grasped life again, and can start living again, somehow. The resonation just keeps on giving.
This is a quiet, gentle and romantic story, it is soothing, accepting, filled to the brim with love and kindness, and it makes me feel safe and accepted and loved in a way I never felt before. I thank you for it, and hope thart I may have the privlige to witness more of this miracle. Thank you Neil, Sir Terry Pratchett and the team for this miraculous book and this miraculous show.
谢谢。(I just had to say thanks with my mother tongue, it feels more earnest this way)
Thank you so much! I'm impressed by everything you and your countryfolk have gone through to watch it as legitimately as you could.
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wlntrsldler · 4 months
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bad for business | luke castellan
warnings: loser!luke agenda is strong with this one, insecure!luke because of reader's judgmental siblings but they get over it later on, suggestive content but nothing explicit, luke being happy and in love (we need more of this; i'm pointing the finger at myself, i need to write happy luke fics) aphrodite!reader x luke, in an alternate universe where the betrayal didn't happen
based on bad for business by sabrina carpenter
i. he's good for my heart, but he's bad for business.
"she's probably going to dump him soon, anyway."
"she's just doing it for the tradition, obviously."
"she's too good for him."
sometimes luke just wanted to tell them to shut up, but he's already on thin ice with-- well, everyone at camp. they weren't a fan of the smell of cigarettes that lingered on his clothes, or the ugly scar on his face (this, wasn't his fault though. if anything, they should hate his fucking dad for giving him the quest in the first place), or the fact that he's somehow dating the most popular, gorgeous, and brilliant girl at camp.
you, y/n y/l/n, the favorite daughter of aphrodite. at first luke thought that you'd be just like the rest of the aphrodite girls (he's not one to perpetuate stereotypes, being the victim of it all his life, but the aphrodite kids always turned their noses up at him so he didn't feel too bad dishing it out), but then you smiled at him with your pretty, pink lips and luke knew he was a goner. he didn't stand a chance (not like he fought it too hard anyway)
you made an effort to remember his name, say hello to him when you passed by him, and you even went as far as asking him for his opinion on things.
"what do you think of this strategy, luke?" you asked, staring at him directly. the entire blue team was arguing loudly (luke thought their strategy fucking sucked and was a sure way for the ares cabin to, once again, demolish all of you, but he was going to keep that to himself) before your soft voice broke the noise. everyone stopped in their tracks because why the hell were you talking to him? asking him for his opinion?
he blinked, even looking behind him in case there was some other kid named luke that he didn't know about. when he finally realized that you were talking to him, he managed to stutter out that the plan was fine. you looked at him skeptically, penetrating the persona he put up with everyone, but decided not to push him anymore and simply nodded.
when the red team, led by the ares cabin, of course, handed your asses to you on a silver platter, you found luke at dinner and sat directly in front of him. chris, who was just as starstruck as luke that you were sitting with them, immediately scrambled off his seat and mumbled some half-hearted excuse to leave the two of you alone.
"so, spill," you said, planting your tray of food on the table. "what did you really think of the strategy?"
your conversation went from strategy to your life to his life to everything and anything until you two were the last two people left. he was glad when people finally got tired of gawking at you and him. (many in disbelief, all in jealousy that you decided to sit with him) you didn't seem to mind the stares, though, luke figured it was because you were used to it. it was hard not to stare at you.
luke thought that dinner was just a glitch in the matrix, that it was just some weird anomaly that would never happen again. he was just thankful that it happened; but then the next day, your perfectly manicured hand knocked on the hermes cabin door and you stood in front of luke with a timid smile on your face to ask him to train you in sword fighting.
luke got dressed at record speed. chris woke up after the third time luke hit his head under his bed when he was trying to find a semi-decent shirt to wear to your sparring session (maybe one that didn't smell too much like cigarettes). chris sat up on his bed, eyebrow quirked, with a teasing smile on his face.
as luke was racing out the door, he looked at chris, "don't start.''
chris threw his head back laughing, "i didn't say anything."
luke threw a pillow at chris with an oomph before rushing out to meet you.
the training sessions slowly morphed into sitting next to each other daily during meals, then into hanging out at campfires, until it got to the point when there wouldn't be a second of free time where the two of you wouldn't be together. luke could feel your siblings shooting daggers at him whenever he was alone, like a warning to stay away from you, but it's not like he was the one initiating things.
sure, he would follow you around the ends of the world if you asked (or even if you didn't, let's be honest here) but luke didn't want to test his luck so he just went with the flow. sometimes, he just wanted to talk to your siblings to set the record straight.
"look, i'm just as fucking confused as you are," he would say, "i don't know why she's hanging out with me either."
as much as he enjoyed your moments together, a piece of him still worried that you were just being nice. maybe you were this way with everyone. maybe he just likes you so much that he's making up these scenarios in his head.
he tried to talk to chris about it, but that proved to be the wrong decision because it's not like the boy had any experience either; he was pining over clarisse. the blind leading the blind, truly.
and then one day, while you and luke were sitting beside the water, after a long day of training, you looked over at him with an unreadable expression.
panicked, luke immediately straightened his back and twisted his body to face you. he wanted to reach for your hand to comfort you, but decided against it. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable. he cleared his throat, "what's wrong?"
"why haven't you asked me out?"
you would've thought percy summoned a cold wave to crash into luke with the way he was sitting there frozen. luke was looking at you blankly, like his brain was short-circuiting. it was a habit of his to blink and tilt his head to the side whenever he was shocked.
"huh?"
you were frowning now, "do you not like me? i'm sorry, i guess i was just reading the situation wrong."
"woah, pause," luke leaned in closer, inspecting your face to see if there was a punchline about to drop like it was a gotcha! moment and all of your siblings would come out from behind the trees to laugh at him. he found no sign of such a thing. "do you like me?"
"luke, i've been so obvious," there was a hint of embarrassment in your voice and luke wanted to kiss it away. your cheeks were dusted with the lightest shade of red as you chewed on your bottom lip. "i thought maybe you liked me too, but i guess it was all in my head. i'm sorry-- forget i even said anything."
"yeah, i don't want to forget it," luke shook his head, now stumbling over his words. his brain was working again, sort of. "i like you, too. like really like you. sorry, you just caught me off guard for a sec."
"you do?"
"gods, i really really do."
you beamed at him and luke was so thankful that he was sitting because his knees would've buckled at your reaction and humiliated himself by falling face-first in the water if he was standing. he was especially thankful that he was sitting when you climbed onto his lap to make out with him until both of your lips were bruised.
ii. i'm mad for you, it's sad but true, and you know it. you're on my mind, you stole my life and it's showing.
word traveled fast after that. when you walked into breakfast with luke's arm around your waist, the whispers started. luke thought the staring before was bad, but this was on a new level. he felt the other aphrodite kids following his every move, poison in their eyes.
when you sat next to luke, impossibly close to him, chris' eyebrows rose in glee. he motioned to the both of you with his spoon, flicking drops of milk with the motion, "what's going on here?"
"i'm luke's girlfriend now."
luke nearly choked on the apple he was eating when he heard the words leave your lips. yes, he knew that you were dating now (his pathetically hoarse voice saying, "will you be my girlfriend?" after the hours-long makeout session the night before haunted his dreams last night; he wanted to keep his cool so bad, but it just wasn't possible when you were sitting on his lap, all pretty with your thighs on either side of his, lips glossy with his saliva instead of your typical lipgloss), but it was the first time he heard you refer to yourself as his girlfriend. his girlfriend.
"nice," chris raised his hand up for a high-five, which luke was about to complete, but chris pulled his hand away, "not for you, dude."
you giggled and high-fived chris, making luke look between the two of you in bewilderment.
"what the fuck was that?" luke asked. when did you and chris get close?
"this is embarrassing," you started, looking down at your plate of food. you were dragging your spoon across the blob of oatmeal, "but i talked to chris about you last week because i was so sad that you haven't made a move yet. i just wanted to hear his opinion on things in case i was just being stupid."
"why didn't you tell me this?"
"i tried!" chris argued, laughing a bit when luke's face turned red, "plus, i didn't want to tell you that me and y/n had a conversation because i had faith that you'd make a move! i obviously bet on the wrong horse, though, because y/n made the move."
"oh my gods, i'm a loser." luke groaned, tossing the apple on his tray. he lost his appetite. "you mean we could've been together this entire time?"
you placed a hand on his thigh, making him turn his attention to you. you gave him a comforting smile that he quickly reciprocated. you gave his thigh a soft squeeze, "it's okay, luke. we can make up for lost time."
luke smirked at you, "tonight?"
"dude, i'm trying to fucking eat."
luke threw up the middle finger to chris' face before connecting your lips.
to luke's surprise, your relationship didn't really change much after putting a label on it. (the changes that did occur were that now he can kiss you freely, which he was thankful for, and that you were even more touchy with him, which he was extremely thankful for because he loved having you next to him at all times. he was so smitten with you.) he realized then how blind he'd been the entire time because you were so very obvious about your feelings for him, he was just too stuck in his own head to notice it.
he started being outwardly affectionate with you, gaining more confidence while he was on your arm. his favorite thing to do was to wrap his arms around your torso and bury his face into the crook of your neck. he loved hearing you erupt in giggles when his curls tickled your skin. he was drunk on you and you didn't mind one bit.
you even said that you were more attached to him than he was to you (he looked at you like you had three heads because it couldn't have been further from the truth.)
he took you on little picnic dates and made you jewelry that you wore proudly, and you wore his clothes (he would be lying if he said that his heart didn't skip a beat when you walked out of the aphrodite cabin sporting his hermes sweater) but above all, luke loved the way he could talk to you about everything. he told you about his mom, his dad, his doubts and his insecurities, and you listened. you would sit there, hands in his hair, while he laid on your chest. he didn't know the last time he felt safe, but with you, he always did.
iii. all of my friends think i've gone crazy, but they don't know me like my baby.
luke tried to ignore the fact that there were running bets from campers about how long you two would last, but it was getting to him. he'd heard it all; a week, two weeks, three months. he fought the urge to roll his eyes when he heard the jingling of drachmas being passed around when you and him were seen together after someone lost their bet.
it's been two months but people still believed that you two were going to break up soon. the idea of it made luke feel sick. he couldn't imagine a life without being yours anymore. truth be told, he was wholly yours the minute he met you, but after every kiss, every hug, every second with you, he was just falling deeper in love with you.
it was a little scary.
"hiya, baby," you greeted him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.
you started calling him the pet name a few days into dating and luke actually whimpered when you did it the first time. you loved getting these reactions from luke and his little sounds (both innocent and not-so-innocent) only spurred you on. when he's with you, luke turned into this mush, always wanting to be held by you or touching you in some way.
"hi," he mumbled, leaning up to place a quick kiss on your lips.
you hummed happily before resting your hands on his back, "baby, you're tense. are you okay?"
"yeah," luke replied, but his furrowed eyebrows said differently.
"no you're not," you walked in front of him, wrapping your arms around his torso, "what's going on?"
luke sighed, "everyone thinks we're gonna break up-- or more specifically, everyone thinks you're gonna break up with me."
"do you believe that i'll break up with you?" you frowned, loosening your hold on him. "did i do something that made you think that?"
"no, no," he said, quickly. he pulled you closer to him, not wanting you to let go of him. "i just-- i dunno. everyone says i'm not good enough for you, and i know i'm not, and it's getting to my head a little bit."
you looked up at him, removing your hands from around him to reach for his face. you brought his face down closer to yours to pepper kisses all over it; his cheeks, his lips, his scar, his jaw. "i think you're perfect."
"you have to say that 'cause you're my girlfriend," he playfully rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop a goofy smile from forming on his face due to your kisses.
"yeah, i am your girlfriend," you reminded him, placing a longer kiss on his lips now. your lips moved together, making luke's hands wander to your lower back to push you closer to him. you pulled away, breathless, "listen to your girlfriend, baby. i'm not going anywhere so don't worry your pretty little head about it."
there were still moments when the voices of the other campers bounced around in luke's head, but you were always there to quiet them with your reassurance and your love for him.
eventually, people stopped talking about you and luke and accepted that you two weren't breaking up anytime soon (they were about six months too late, in luke's opinion). he even managed to win over your siblings later on (kind of; they still don't talk to him unless they have to but they smile at him now, but luke isn't picky; a win is a win)
luke was happy and in love and it was all thanks to you.
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shockercoco · 1 month
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Don't Mind Me
Timothee chalamet x reader
Warnings - 18+, smut, cockwarming, oral (fem receiving), slight somnophilia, overstimulation, needy!timothee
Word count - 1430
a/n - request: "could u write a smut abt cockwarming timothee all night and then he fucks u early in the morning plzzzzzzzzzz" - there may or may not be errors because I kept changing some of the writing lol. also sorry this took a while, and I hope you enjoy :)
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You rarely get to see Timothee since he travels basically all year round, but when you do the two of you make sure to make the most of it. This time he’s only in town for a couple of days, and one of the first things he had said to you, after arriving unannounced at your front door, was that he just wanted to be close to you.
To any other person, Timothee’s statement would be taken as an innocent thought, but you knew the underlying meaning to his words. 
The two of you had found yourselves in your bed in between the sheets making up for all the sexting and phone sex – which you weren’t a huge fan of because you felt awkward doing it. When the two of you had exhausted yourselves in the best way possible, Timothee suggested keeping his cock inside of you throughout the night. He didn’t want to be disconnected from you yet, and with you feeling the same way, you agreed.
The two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms, your warm walls keeping him company while he slept. Sometime throughout the night the two of you had drifted apart to opposite sides of the bed, so him being removed from you went unnoticed. 
That is until Timothee woke up the following morning with the sun just rising and came to the realization that his brilliant idea of cockwarming came with repercussions.. He looks down to see his painfully hard length staring back at him through the white sheets. Timothee hesitates for a second before using a hand to squeeze his cock through the thin fabric, in hopes that it would be enough to make it go away, but of course it wasn’t. 
After switching to palming himself and not receiving enough satisfaction, he then spits into his hand and decides to stick his hand underneath the sheets to lightly stroking himself. His tip is an angry shade and he’s already leaking from the opening. He throws his head back against the pillow as he thrusts up into his own hand, beginning to feel miserable and pathetic.
It isn’t until you make a noise and shift a little in your sleep when Timothee glances over at you and remembers that you're beside him. He finally settles on the fact that he needs you and begins to sit up, his cock still in his hand. After all, you had talked about wanting him to use you in your sleep, so why not seize the opportunity?
“Fuck it,” he murmurs to himself.
Timothee tries to be quiet as he pushes the covers off of your body and slowly moves downwards. He carefully pushes your legs apart to reveal your pussy to him, your body still bare from the night before. His eyes roll at the sight in front of him and that smell that he loves before diving in and attaching his mouth to you.
He can’t help but moan to himself as he moves his tongue up and down your folds, savoring the taste. Not being able to wait anymore, Timothee sticks his tongue into your opening and begins to tongue-fuck you. Having you in his mouth only turns him on more though, so he starts to move his hips against the mattress, humping to relieve some of the tension between his own legs.
Meanwhile, in your sleep you’re having a wet dream, not knowing that your boyfriend is between your thighs causing said dream. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you take a look down to see Timothee with his eyes closed and his hips thrusting into the mattress as he pleasures you.
It takes a second for your brain to start running, but when you become aware of what's happening between your legs, you can’t help but feel turned on, and also a little confused. 
Timothee opens his eyes once he feels your body move as you prop yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at the situation unfolding. He pulls away from your folds with a pitiful expression on his face to say, “I’m sorry baby, I couldn’t help it.”
He doesn’t wait for you to answer as he attaches his mouth to you again and continues. You let out a small moan as his lips latch on to your flit and begin sucking. You glance over at the clock on your nightstand for the time only to realize it’s only seven o’clock in the morning.
“I guess it’s never too early to satisfy your needs,” you think.
After deciding that eating you out isn’t enough, Timothee removes his mouth from you and sits up on his knees, revealing his hard length to you. You notice the precum already seeping from his top and the veins bulging on the shaft. 
“I really need you,” Timothee tells you, looking as desperate as ever.
You cover up your smirk with a smile as you look up at him hovering. You nod. “Go ahead, it’s okay,” you say, and that’s all he needs to hear as he grabs himself in one hand, lines himself up, and plunges into you.
Both of your mouths fall open - his from finally being surrounded by your tight, warm walls, and yours from the shock of the sudden insertion.
Timothee lets out a strangled moan as he begins thrusting into you, helping himself to your welcoming walls. He wraps his arms around you and covers your body with his, and you open your legs wider to help him go deeper.
He plunges into you repeatedly with need as dips his head into your neck, filling your ear up with his whimpers and whines. You wrap your arms around him as he pushes you deeper and deeper into the mattress. The sound of his hips meeting yours echoes through the room, along with the wet sound of your pussy. 
“I’m going to cum,” he warns as his thrusts get faster and sloppier.
“Please do,” you tell him. 
It’s only a few moments later that he comes, holding your body tight and letting out a deep groan as he fills you with his load. He doesn’t stop there though, he continues thrusting into you despite now being sensitive, helping you chase your own high.
Your back arches into him as you orgasm nears, soon followed by you cumming around his cock as your body trembles under his.
“Fuck,”  Timothee whimpers as he feels your walls flutter and clench around him.
While you're coming down from your high, Timothee feels his second orgasm rising through his body. He decides to flip the two of you over, wanting you to ride him. 
“I can’t,” you whine, feeling weak and tired from your climax. 
“Please, baby,” he pleads up at you, giving your hips a squeeze as he bucks his hips up into you.
You hesitate but you give in to him, motivated by his desperation for your body. You place your hands on his chest as you begin to move, causing him to throw his head back into the pillows, his grip still on your hips.
Taking a glance down, you notice the remnants of his and your orgasm forming a white ring around the base of his cock.
Once Timothee notices your body starting to give out, he takes matters into his own hands and begins thrusting up into. Your mouth falls open at the pace, your body already undergoing overstimulation. 
When he reaches a hand down between your legs and begins rubbing circles on your clit, your body jerks from the added stimulation. The combination of his fingers on you and him moving inside of you is enough for you to instantly reach your climax, hitting you like a huge wave crashing into you and bringing you under. You collapse onto Timothee’s chest as your orgasm makes its way through your body, no longer having the energy to keep your body upright.
Timothee wraps his hands around your body, holding you firmly against his chest as he makes his way towards his second orgasm. You allow your body to go limp in his arms, letting him use you in whatever way he pleases.
As he cums, his hips stutter as he continues to thrust through his orgasm. You moan as you feel his warm load shoot into you for the second time and leak out of you and onto him. Once Timothee’s hips finally come to a stop, you stay lying on his chest, not ready for the feeling of him pulling out of your sensitive cunt.
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months
Text
Mom and Dad are Fighting Again
Requested Here!
Part 2 Here! (#the Bradfords🩶🚓)
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!wife!reader
Summary: You and Tim become Lucy's station parents, and you show your care for her in different ways.
Warnings: fluff, brief angst, grumpy!Tim to softie!Tim, "mom and dad are fighting again" is a Castle reference
Word Count: 2.5k+ words
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“Bradford!” Wade calls.
“Which one?” you and Tim ask together.
Wade sighs, and Angela adds, “He’s tired just thinking about the conversation. That means he needs Tim.”
“Tim,” Wade clarifies. “Let the other Bradford help Chen prep the shop. I need to talk to you about something.”
“Ooh,” Angela and Lucy taunt.
You roll your eyes, but it is a bit like being called into the principal’s office. Luckily, Tim and Wade get along well. You tap Lucy’s shoulder and wave for her to follow you. After you sign for your gear, Lucy gets hers and Tim’s. Once you’re in the garage and your bag is in your shop, Lucy turns to you with a pout.
“If a Bradford had to be my TO, why couldn’t it have been you?” she asks.
“Tim is the best there is, Luce. I know he can be grumpy and push a little too hard, but I promise learning from him is worth it,” you reply.
“At least I have you to stand up for me.”
“Ah, so that’s why you wanted to be my friend.”
“We’re cops, not friends,” Tim interjects as he walks out of the doorway behind you. “Let’s go, boot.”
“We’re not friends,” Lucy murmurs under her breath. “Says the guy who’s married to another cop.”
“What was that?” Tim asks.
“Tim,” you warn gently.
You shake your head, and he takes a deep breath before getting in the driver’s seat. As you climb into your shop beside him, Lucy rolls her window down and gestures for you to do the same.
“Dad says he loves you,” she says with a wide smile.
“Chen!” Tim yells.
“I love him too. Be safe, both of you,” you call before pulling out.
“We need to talk about boundaries, Chen,” Tim grumbles.
“Better than not talking,” she argues.
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Tim leans against the side of the shop and stares straight ahead. It’s an interesting situation, but no matter how long he looks, he can’t decide what the best approach is. Lucy has spouted numerous ideas, and he’s vetoed each one.
“We could call for a lift truck,” she suggests as she paces on the sidewalk.
“Can’t get close enough,” Tim replies.
“Then you know what we have to do.”
Tim looks at Lucy, who now has her hands on her hips and a determined look.
“We have to call smarter reinforcements. Call Bradford,” she demands.
“I’m not calling my wife because we can’t- how could she even help?”
“She’s brilliant. You of all people have to know that.”
“Sounds like you should be running her fan club,” Tim complains.
“Having a hero isn’t wrong. If you don’t call her, I will.”
“And I’ll write you up.”
Lucy sighs and turns to look at the scene again. Tim runs through a few more ideas in his mind, but they all end in a worse situation than the current one. He sighs as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
“Hey,” he greets when you answer.
Lucy turns around quickly and claps quietly. Tim glares at her, but her excitement doesn’t diminish as he continues talking to you.
“Are you busy?” he asks.
“Just tell her we need help!” Lucy implores.
“Yeah, that’s Chen. And we do need help.”
Lucy pumps a fist over her head in victory. When Tim ends the call, though, she steps back and quiets.
A few minutes later, you park beside Tim’s shop and exit your car with a smile.
“Someone called for the cavalry?” you joke. “So, what’s so strange Tim Bradford had to call for backup?”
Tim doesn’t answer but grabs your waist and leads you to stand between him and Lucy. He points up through a gap in the trees and you follow his finger. Your responding “huh” does little to make Tim think you’ll have an easier time solving the problem.
“What am I supposed to do about it?” you ask.
Tim turns to glare at Lucy again, and she ducks behind you. You look at Tim from the corner of your eye and he accepts your silent reprimand and gives Lucy some space.
“Did you try to get up there?” you ask.
“No. There’s no good approach,” Tim answers.
“I thought we could climb onto the roof beside it for recon and find a way to reach it,” Lucy says. “Or maybe get a ladder truck in the yard.”
“Roof recon isn’t a terrible idea,” you agree. “Why didn’t you do that?”
“Because I don’t agree that it would get us any more information than we can get from the ground,” Tim explains.
“We can’t get to it from here, though,” Lucy argues. “This park is protected, and we can’t bring CSU out here to traipse all over it. That house is our best bet.”
“Chen, you are not in charge,” Tim snaps.
“Tim,” you warn softly. “Just hear her out.”
“She’s my rookie. I don’t have to do anything she says.”
“I’m not saying to do exactly what she says, but you’re training her, not dictating her. Give her a chance to work this.”
Tim clenches his jaw and breathes out of his nose. The situation is stressful, you know, because every element of being a cop is. But Tim arguing with Lucy will only delay the inevitable.
“Please?” you add. “If her plan to scout from the roof doesn’t work, then I will call the park service and tell them to deal with it.”
“We don’t even know who owns that house.”
“One way to find out,” Lucy says.
You let Lucy take the lead and stand beside Tim on the porch as she talks to the owner of the home. He doesn’t seem inclined to let three police officers climb onto his roof to deal with something that he can’t see.
“I’m done talkin’ to ya,” he says before slamming the door in Lucy’s face. It opens a moment later and he adds, “One more thing.”
You can tell he’s prepared to do something stupid and pull Lucy back quickly. His fist misses her face by an inch, and you move her toward Tim before turning toward the homeowner. His second hit is luckier and lands against the side of your nose, but he’s not trained like you are. When you hit him in the same spot, he goes down hard and fast. You raise your hand to your face and immediately feel blood coming from your nose. There’s likely no real damage, just a busted blood vessel or two.
Lucy begins apologizing as Tim calls for backup and another unit to deal with the issue in the park. He returns his radio to his belt and lays his hands on your shoulders to look at you.
“We’re going back to the shop. Stay with him until backup gets here, Chen,” he commands.
“Yes, sir,” she answers quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Lucy,” you offer.
“We’ll discuss that later,” Tim interjects. “Let’s go.”
Tim keeps a hand on you during every step of the short walk back to the shop. He presses a wad of gauze under your nose and uses his other hand to tip your head slightly forward. When the top of your head hits his chest, you feel him sigh.
“What would you have done? If Chen wasn’t here?” he asks.
“I don’t know, Tim. A huge, gaudy murder confession nailed to a tree in a park is a new one. Park department wouldn’t have been much help, so it may have been one to pass off. Or trespass.”
Tim looks away from you when Lucy returns. You cover his hand to pull the gauze from your face, and when you see there’s no fresh blood, you pull an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit and clean the dried blood from your chin and Tim’s hand. Lucy waits silently, and now she looks like the one waiting to be called to see the principal.
“What were you thinking?” Tim demands when you release his hand. “You never just stand in front of someone’s door. If we hadn’t been there, or if he had opened the door with a knife, what would have happened, Chen?”
“It won’t happen again, sir.”
“You’re right it won’t! I don’t know why you refuse to listen to me or remember basic, common procedures, but it will get you killed, and I’m not going to let that happen. I will take your badge if this is the kind of police work you’ll do once you’re out on your own!”
“Tim!” you interrupt. “She messed up. We all have. Maybe let her prove that she learned something before you threaten her career.”
“No! I don’t want her on the streets alone. I don’t want to imagine what I’d hear if she was partnered with you someday.”
“Drop it,” you demand as you stand.
Your chest presses against Tim’s, and his eyes bore into yours. Lucy watches on with her hands pulled tightly behind her back and guilt in her eyes.
“Or what?” Tim asks.
“You’re making it about me. But you’re done yelling at Chen. Lucy, get in my shop, we’re all going back to the station.”
“For what?” Tim scoffs.
“To learn some human decency, apparently. And if you’re still acting like this when we get back, I’m taking Chen for the rest of the week.”
Tim watches you toss the keys to Lucy before she walks away. His brow furrows and you realize he thought you were leaving him to drive back with Lucy.
“You trust her to drive your shop?” he asks.
“What is this about?” you counter. “Because she was just in a bad place, which is the best that could have happened.”
“She doesn’t apply what she knows. Lucy is smart and she’s got instincts, but she gets excited and jumps too soon.”
“Then walk her through everything. Standing back and being a drill sergeant is only going to make her rush more.”
“When did you become an expert on being a TO?”
Tim smiles softly at you, and you pat his chest.
“Guess you’re teaching me, too.”
“Bradford,” Wade calls over the radio. “The guy you booked for assault on an officer is claiming that Chen harassed him. I need your body cams as soon as you return.”
Tim pulls the seatbelt too hard and locks it. You answer Wade that you’ll all be back with your cams shortly. After replacing the radio on the dash, you lay a hand on Tim’s arm and encourage him to take a deep breath.
“That’s not Lucy’s fault,” you remind Tim.
“It was her plan,” Tim responds.
“I agreed with it. Does that make me a terrible cop?”
“Of course it doesn’t, but this isn’t about you!”
“Then what’s it about?” you ask, your voice raising to meet his.
“I feel like I’m failing her and that’s why we keep ending up here!”
Tim huffs as he finishes, and you watch him carefully. His shoulders drop, and you want to hug him but know better than to try while he’s driving.
“You’re not failing her. But there is always room for improvement. Being a teacher doesn’t mean you can’t learn, too.”
“How do you trust her like this?”
“You said it yourself. She’s smart and has good instincts, but she needs a bit of room to learn and hone those skills without feeling pressured to be perfect.”
Tim nods, and you whisper an apology for yelling at him. He shakes his head, and you agree that he doesn’t need to apologize either.
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When you exit Wade’s office after surrendering your body cam and making your statement, you hear Angela ask Lucy where you and Tim are. Or, as you’re referred to at the station, The Bradfords.
“Oh, Mom and Dad are fighting again,” Lucy jokes.
“About you?” Angela asks, playing along but aware that Lucy isn’t completely wrong in her phrasing.
“What else?” Lucy counters.
“Chen, a word?” Tim asks as he moves around you.
You watch as he apologizes, and smile to yourself. Angela winks at you as she passes, and you join Tim and Lucy.
“Wade said I could stay with you two for the rest of shift. What are we up to?”
“We still have to deal with the murder confession in the trees,” Tim groans. “Hey, Nolan, have you dealt with a murder confession yet?”
Nolan shakes his head, and Tim looks around for Bishop. When he sees that she’s not close, Tim steps into Wade’s office and asks him to transfer the call to Nolan.
“Thanks, Officer Bradford!” Nolan replies happily.
“No problem,” Tim says.
Lucy hides her smile as she walks beside you. Every moment spent with her requires a level of parenting, and though you’re relatively close in age, you and Tim feel responsible for Lucy. As more than a cop. You show it in your own ways, but she knows how much she means to you and Tim and feels the same.
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During one of your very few days off, you want to surprise Tim with dinner. The recipe that you want has seemingly disappeared, though, and you’ll have to call Lucy to get it again. 
When her phone rings, and she answers, “Hey, Mom,” Tim shakes his head.
“No personal calls in my shop,” Tim says.
“You answer for her.”
Tim’s brows furrow until he realizes Lucy isn’t talking to her biological mom, but her station mom. He nods to let her know she can continue talking to you.
“Dad says hi,” she says, just to bother Tim.
“Dad says he needs a day off, too,” Tim grumbles.
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“Don’t you dare answer that,” Tim says against your lips. “Date night, not LAPD night.”
“It’s Luce,” you argue as you reach for your phone.
Tim catches your wrist and brings it to his lips to distract you. Your phone rings again, though, and Tim’s chimes with an incoming text. He releases your arm hesitantly and pulls you so he can lay his head against your shoulder.
“Hi, Luce,” you answer.
“Put me on speaker!” she requests happily.
“Alright. Tim and I are both here.”
“I passed my rookie exam! I know you’re both off today, but Sergeant Grey knew we couldn’t wait to hear the results. Thank you, both of you, so much!”
“Congratulations!” you and Tim say together.
“We’ll celebrate when we get back,” you add.
“I knew you could do it,” Tim says. “Good job, Lucy.”
“Okay, okay, I need to call my mom and tell her that she was wrong. Enjoy the rest of your time off.”
The line beeps as she ends the call, and you and Tim lock eyes.
“She called us first, didn’t she?” you ask.
“We really are turning into her parents,” Tim says with an exaggerated shudder.
“You look pretty good for a dad,” you tease. “And you care about Lucy no matter how much you pretend not to.”
Tim looks at you for a moment before asking, “You know Lucy’s real parents set the bar low, right?”
“Let me have this. She’s my daughter and she’s no longer a boot.”
Tim groans, but before you can tease him again, he pulls you down to continue kissing you. Until your phone begins buzzing nonstop with excited texts from Lucy, at least.
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dawndelion-winery · 3 months
Text
I Met You Once, I Loved You Twice
Celebrity au! Their persona, and then their true self, it seems like you were meant to love them regardless
Ft. Childe, Furina, Kaveh, Scaramouche (Wanderer), Wriothesley
[Idol! Childe, Actress! Furina, Racer! Kaveh, Artist! Scaramouche, Athlete! Wriothesley]
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Childe:
You knew him before the fame, before the glitz and glamour; when he was just Ajax
And as horribly sappy as it sounds, you've loved him since day 1
Falling in love with Ajax was like slipping on ice while you're hiking up a snowy mountain
You get a little too caught up in the scenery, a tad bit too comfortable being around him
And suddenly, you fail to notice the patch of ice and slip, tumbling down the cliffside, your affection for him snowballing into something greater
And so you support him through his dreams of becoming an idol, writing to him while he's a trainee, making care packages for him
Anything for your Ajax
And when he finally debuts...
Oh boy, all the fans calling themselves his partner? They could dream on
You called dibs on him before any of them even set eyes on him
Besides, how could they even fall for someone just from watching them perform?
That was answered for you the first time Ajax excitedly insisted you watch him in the MV
You're not exactly proud of your reactions to seeing him come up on screen, but he seemed happy enough about it
Falling in love with the idol Childe was like drowning
Holding your breath, choking and flailing
It's dizzying until you finally succumb, which doesn't take long at all
And once he's converted you into a fan?
He's such a little shit, whipping out the idol persona for a smidge of free fanservice just to get you flustered at the most random times
And he's back to your sweet old Ajax in seconds too, acting like nothing's amiss
Furina:
The world's greatest actress finds that the world is her stage
Ever perfect, ever entertaining, her splendour is unparalleled
It was impossible not to adore such craft, and you easily fell in love with her acting just as one would fall asleep, gently and blissfully without even realising
Immersing yourself in her works, you develop a sort of fanaticism, delving deeper to find her interviews
She's beautiful whether or not she's filming, you find
So much so that you can't help but wonder how much of it is true
And so when you do, by some trick of fate, meet her, you feel compelled to ask
It's a dark, foggy evening, and you're taking a brisk walk along the forest
Who would've thought you'd bump into her then?
And so you strike up conversation, eager to interact with your favourite actress
And when you broach the topic of her facade, you notice she gets a tad bit defensive
So you apologise and back off, meaning well, hoping to see her again
And you do: these late walks become a regular thing, and slowly, you start to know her for who she really was
It's almost like meeting her for the first time all over again, and it very well may have been if you don't count the act as meeting her
Falling for Furina, your friend, was like taking an ice bath
Frigidity seized you almost instantly, and yet, as you stayed longer, the more pleasant it felt, almost soothing in a sharp sort of way
Kaveh:
Not just anyone could race in what was known to be the pinnacle of motorsports
And Kaveh? He was brilliant, the light of Ksharewar, the face of the team
And frankly, a very charming face
Often regarded as one of the prettiest on the grid (if not the prettiest)
He's really raking in the viewers
Imagine people seeing *1* edit of him getting out his his car post race and suddenly they're invested in races
Ofc being a new fan, the gatekeeping you have to put up with is ridiculous
"I bet your favourite driver is Kaveh because he's handsome."
As if he's not one of the most talented to ever grace us with his presence?
He gets so involved with the car's engineering honestly he should just build the car himself too atp
He is speed on the track
And falling for the light of Ksharewar through the television screen is an adrenaline rush in and of itself
So bumping into him in real life was just breathtaking
You sincerely hoped you didn't come off as some crazed fanatic with the way you rambled on about how much you loved seeing the way he pushed the car to its limits and everything
Overall it was a great once in a lifetime experience and you planned to treasure it
Until it was just a once in a lifetime thing and you seemed to bump into him a fair bit ("Hey aren't you that fan that completely went off about the car that time?")
Once you'd started talking to him more frequently, the rush of meeting him started to fade into less of a frenzy, and more of a bubbling excitement
Falling in love with Kaveh was like taking a breath of fresh air and letting the chilly breeze fill your lungs, a crisp clarity creeping through your senses
But from the faint flush of pink on his cheeks, perhaps the opposite was the case on his end
Scaramouche(Wanderer):
You've heard of artists with depression, now what about artists with borderline personality disorder?
The first time you'd met him, you didn't even know it was him
You'd been at an art gallery admiring the works signed off by Kunikuzushi when a stranger stood beside you
"You've been staring at this sculpture for a pretty long time."
"I like it. I don't think I've ever felt such yearning embedded in stone."
The stranger didn't respond, but nodded in acknowledgement and continued to stand beside you
Falling for Kunikuzushi was like falling in love with shadows
It was no more than a feeling, a yearning, a desperation much like what he portrays in his works
Everything you knew about him seemed to drown in sorrow, loneliness, and self destruction, yet having never met him, you were sure this was only one small aspect of his being
Which left you ever curious
Curiouser still was that same stranger with the odd navy blue hair who always seemed to happen to bump into you at these exhibitions
Without fail, he'd prompt you to speak, as though digging for your thoughts on each piece
Not that it bothered you, the stranger felt familiar, and had become a welcome face
Warm was his presence and gentle was his gaze, yet a detached coldness kept you from him
He was beautiful, you noted, like moonlight, with all it melancholic splendour and grace, like the paintings and sculptures you loved so dearly
And so you found yourself falling for a beguiling stranger whose name you knew not
You loved him like the sea loves the shore, always reaching for him, but pulling back in uncertainty
"You're oddly silent today," he notes.
"I was thinking of how much this piece reminds me of us. It's weird, isn't it? How I'm seeing things, drawing links to some stranger."
"Not really. I made it like that for you. We don't have to be strangers."
Wriothesley:
Baseball player Wriothesley who has his fans swooning at his charming grin and chuckle
A real heart stopper (he could beat me with his bat)
Fans adore him regardless of whether they're simps (they are) because he's good at his job
The only people who hate him are fans of the opposing team
The way his arms flex with every swing, in this essay I will-
He's built like a tank and plays like one too
So obviously you'd expect him to be a pretty confident kind of guy
And he is
He's a charmer, a smooth talker, and painfully level headed
So why was this beefy cannon suddenly bashful over your incessant praise?
Just look at him, which of his fans haven't fallen completely smitten?
Falling for the star player was like stepping into a big city for the first time, and being wowed and blinded by the lights and massive skyscrapers
But Wriothesley was a soft person at heart
And oh so very vulnerable to affection
For every compliment you uttered, he'd readily deflect it, but when they just didn't end?
Boy was he at a loss
He did end up treating you to coffee, so that was nice
But he was very obviously avoiding your gaze which he deemed to raw for him to meet
Yet it is that exact raw adoration that he can't quite dismiss
He knows how superficial fawning can be, yet there's an undeniable gratification when it comes from you
So he keeps you at arm's length, letting you in ever so slightly, but never too close despite not pushing you away
Falling in love with Wriothesley was like planting a seed and nurturing it as it grows
The germination takes place out of sight, the results unnoticeable until it finally sprouts as a fragile sapling
Discouraging as it may be, with continued work, it does get easier
And when he's secure enough to trust you entirely...he promised to return all your efforts tenfold
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Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating
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sugoi-writes · 2 days
Note
Can I get some fluff of Alastor finding reader listening to old jazz songs from when he was alive and he makes us dance with him? :)
It's Been a While... (Alastor x GN! Reader)
Ahaha, I need more work on fluff, I hope you like it! There is SOME mentions of risque activites, but it's super brief, and nothing insanely explicit! Promise! I was honestly just writing to write, and figured this little blurb that fell out of me would be fitting enough. UNO REVERSE... We get ALASTOR to dance! Fuck yes!!!
Songs mentioned: In The Mood - Glenn Miller / Sing, Sing, Sing - Benny Goodman (both are bops I used to play when I was in jazz band houhosjknskhdj-- SURPRISE, you also get Danny Lore as a treato!)
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Alastor's tense, heavy sigh sounds in the air, prompting you to crane your head up. You took in his disheveled state and instantly knew: he was exhausted. You stood from your plush armchair, abandoning it to walk toward his desk. 
"Alastor?" was all that was needed for his flattened ears to perk up. Your sweet voice was a much needed comfort during a particularly grueling evening. 
"Yes, dearest?" he replied, his smile hardly an upturned slit. You come up behind him slowly, waiting for his permission to touch. Alastor looks back to your hovering hands, and nods gingerly. He returns to facing his desk, allowing his eyes to lose focus as he zones out. When your arms wrap around his neck, his shoulders slump heavily, a pleased hum vibrating his chest. You smiled sweetly at the sound, a welcome pleasantry as you kissed his cheek. 
"You're getting frustrated again, my love..." you pipe up, continuing to pepper his cheek with chaste, innocent kisses. Your lover laughs bitterly, but leans into your musings all the same. 
"Well, I suppose you're right... leave it to my sweet, observant partner to know what's wrong... and when," he adds, a tired hand reaching up to rub slow circles into one of your arms. You grin against his cheek, your kisses slowing," I may also have a solution to your problem, if you'll hear me out~" 
Alastor hums in approval, grasping both of your hands when you continue to pamper him with sweet, physical adoration. 
"Dear, you are nothing if not full of brilliant ideas... I would love to hear them out," he muses, turning his head to plant a singular, sincere kiss to your lips. You were giddy at the affection, but capped your glee.  You tugged on his hands, eager to make your little plan work.
"Come on, come on... you'll have to get up for this one," you quip, forcing a dramatic sigh from your partner. Alastor throws his head back, laying it on your shoulder like an ill peasant woman. He would fan his face weakly, had your hands not been so warm.  
"My love, I have been stricken, and cannot get up~ Won't you let an old man rest?" he fired back. But truly, had you asked: he would happily jump into acid rain with nothing more than his dignity.
You roll your eyes at his theatrics, smirking," You? Old? I wouldn't figure... No, you old geezer, I need you to stand so we can use your legs. They're very important for what I want to do." Alastor blinked, gears turning in his mind. Only with you would his mind wander to dirtier, carnal ideas. 
"Dear, if I had wanted to do that tonight, I'm afraid your back would've already been bent out of shape--" 
"Oh for Fucks Sake, Alastor--" you cackled, tugging on him with more insistence. 
" Come oooonnnnn, please~? It's one of your favorites, I promise! Nothing dirty, no tricks!" Alastor's interest is instantly piqued, resulting in an immediate hop up. Even with his motion, his hands were still in yours. You huff, exacerbated but grateful you didn’t have to lift him yourself. 
"Ahh, if you would have led with that, I may've been more urgent to attend to you, dear," Alastor chuckles, not missing the flush that flashed across your cheeks. You pull away from Alastor long enough to turn on the radio, flicking through several frequencies and stations to find just the right channel. Alastor watches you in amusement, arms crossing in front of his chest. He was more than content to watch you struggle, shifting his weight onto one foot.
"Well, I have to keep some of the suspense, don't I?" you replied, grinning at him in a way that made Alastor's black heart beat wildly. He did quite enjoy your mischievous nature... But your attempts to work his radio almost had him pitying you... Almost. 
He scooted in behind you, resting his crossed arms over the top of your head," You could request a song, you know... I don't mind putting on something you enjoy--" 
"I'd rather it be something we’d both enjoy," you interject, huffing as you became an armrest for your demonic partner. Once you found the right channel, you swiveled under Alastor's arms to face him. Then, you reach up to hold his elbows, shaking them around playfully. 
"Alright, sir... It's been a long, long time since we've done this... I want to do this properly." 
Alastor relents, allowing you to push his arms off of your head. He tilts his own toward you, expressing confusion. In that moment, he finally hones in on the song itself. In The Mood, popularized and recorded by Glenn Miller. It was one of the few songs that came to mind when you thought of "Alastor's Time" in the 30s. Said demon blinks in surprise, grinning. He had listened to this recording a bit after coming to hell, and was particularly fond of it. Ahh, you had picked the perfect station! 
"Glenn Miller? Oh, you spoil me, love," Alastor coos, caressing your face as he kisses your forehead," Whatever did I do to deserve this?" 
You sway your hips, bouncing in place to the tempo with the old tune," I know the recording's after your time... but-- He's just-- GOOD, y'know?" You bite your lip as you pull Alastor's hands off of your face," Now come on, Al... let's dance!" What a perfect distraction to break his tension and troubled mind! Alastor just knew he would enjoy your little idea... 
His hands settle on you, both lightly caging your hips as yours held onto his wide shoulders. As the main motif began, the both of you started bopping along to the music. You watched Alastor's face morph fully into a relaxed state; smile still present, but much softer than his manic glee. You had to use every fiber in your being not to kiss him in that instant, instead squeezing his shoulders. Alastor's ears twitch as you draw soothing circles into his tense muscles, a shudder being torn from his entire frame. 
"Relax, Alastor... I want you to forget about everything, except for this...," you coo, making him sigh with acceptance. He came close to you, flushing your bodies together in a tight, intimate sway. You could only sigh as he settled his chin onto the top of your head. 
"Oh darling, if I relaxed anymore, I would be putty in your hands...," Alastor chimes, the tail end of his sentence wandering off as you press harder. Alastor huffs pleasantly, his hands holding your hips more firmly," Sweetheart, you really will be my undoing..." 
You chuckle as you settle your hands, allowing Alastor a moment of reprieve. He rolls his shoulders, one hand seeking to grasp your opposite hand. Once he drew your arm out with his, his other hand shifted to the small of your back. You saw him grinning, playful and energetic," If it's a dance you want, then it had better be a good one, hmm? So let's jive~" 
You squealed as Alastor practically whisked you off of your feet, spinning the both of you elegantly around his bedroom. The sounds of cicadas and frogs croaking in the distant, swampy marsh of his extended bedroom accompanied the sweet jazz that filled the air. Truly, it was tying everything together seamlessly. You had it all: a nice scene, nice music, and a relaxed, precious beau to spend all night with. You would have patted yourself on the back, were it not for Alastor's telltale sign of a 'big dip' move. You looped both arms around his neck, hanging on as Alastor swung you down, his monocle threatening to slip off his face. You laughed as you casually adjusted it. You stared, enthralled as you lay your hand over his racing pulse. However, the moment didn’t last long before you were brought back to your feet. But you thought now would be the best time to be a bit closer…
Getting bolder now, you pulled Alastor in for a kiss via his bowtie, eager to finish the dance off strong. Alastor, of course, had no protests, as he looped his arms around your waist. The two of you embraced like this for what felt like an hour, unable to pull apart your mingling, eager lips. But, with the song ended, leaving you both in silence, you managed to pull away. You looked up to Alastor with knowing eyes, your smile reflected in his deep, red irises.
"I loved that, Alastor, thank you... And I hope you don't mind me whisking you away from work..." 
The Radio Demon rolled his eyes, an imitation of your look from earlier. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, his lips still puffy from your kiss," My love, you must whisk me away more often... In fact, I think I'd like another dance, if you'll join me?" Of course, you agreed silently, stepping on to the very tips of your toes to seal it with a kiss. 
"I'd love nothing more." 
Alastor grins with a deep chuckle, the radio pumping out a new song. Sing, Sing, Sing, popularized by Benny Goodman. You blink in surprise as this number moves... MUCH faster. And, from the sound of it, it will get you to sweat. You laughed nervously as Alastor brought you in again, his hand directing your hips to sway with his. You couldn’t help but become a little flustered as he closed the gap between your bodies, a playful, coy smile sent your way. 
"Hold on tight, love. Some recordings of this song could last up to ten minutes~" 
"WHAT--" 
Alastor practically cackled as you trapped yourself within a saucy dance, one of many that would fill your evening with sweat, laughter, and best of all: an Alastor whose smile finally reached his eyes. 
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leclerc-hs · 6 months
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lucky (bonus!) - cl16
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Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: in which you and your childhood best friend have sex for the first time. Warnings: BAD FRENCH! (I didn't get to check these translations so if they're wrong please correct me and I will fix!), smut, angst, cheating (oops) Word Count: 1,381 Author's Note: hi! I felt that Charles and Lucky having sex later in their friendship was the right move. I was in between making them younger, but it didn't feel right writing about teenagers having sex to me lmaoooo. I love you guys and hope that you enjoy!!! please leave feedback I love hearing from you all. xo PART 1 PART 2
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
HE WINS IN Spa; He wins in Monza!
The air was filled with a mix of adrenaline, joy, and the unmistakable scent of burnt rubber from the track. The vibrant red of the Ferrari flowed under the brilliant Italian sun, reflection the passion of this moment. The crowd’s cheers echoed, creating a symphony of celebration that seemed to envelop the entire circuit.
Your heart raced with a blend of pride and excitement, knowing that your best friend had achieved something extraordinary. The victory at the Ferrari home race was more than just a win; it was a triumph that would be etched in the annals of racing history.
Turning your attention to the podium, you marveled at the sight of your best friend standing tall, a champion stood above in the midst the cheering crowd. His racing suit adorned with the iconic prancing horse; he wore the victorious smile of someone who conquered not just the track but the hearts of fans worldwide.
The tears welled up in your eyes, a testament to the shared journey and countless hours of hard work, dedication, and sacrifice that led to this moment. You were so happy for him.
The podium ceremony unfolded with the spraying of champagne, and as the golden droplets shimmered in the sunlight, you couldn’t help but feel proud as you savored the moment completely. 
“Il s’est très bien debrouillé!” He did so well! You muttered to Lorenzo who greeted you with a big hug of excitement.
“Oui! You’re needed in his driver’s room,” Lorenzo responded with a smile. “Il m’a dit plus tôt.” He told me earlier. 
You patiently waited in his driver’s room, lounging on the compact leather couch. When the door swung open at last, with his race suit unzipped at his waist, you leaped to your feet with excitement. 
You cried out, “Mon dieu, Charlie!” My God, Charlie! before leaping right into his arms, clinging onto him tightly. “Je suis tellement fiere de toi!” I am so proud of you!
He felt his heart pound rapidly as you leaped into his arms. He wanted to tell you right then and there that he was in love with you.
“Nous devons célébrer!” We must celebrate! You waited for him to place you back down on your feet, but he never did. At least not as soon as you thought he would. He just held you there, staring at you as if you were the sun.
“My Lucky,” he says. “It’s all because of you.”
It was quick. One second, he was smiling at you as he held you up against him, and the next you were pressed against the door with his lips on yours. You felt your stomach clench from the heat of the kiss.
“Est-ce que c’est bon?” Is this okay? You nodded into the kiss. Yes – yes it’s okay. 
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. In fact, it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. You both could blame it on the fact that he just won a major race or the rush of emotions from the win. But it was just love. Not that either of you would ever admit it.
His hips had you pinned to the wall, completely at his mercy, while his hands fumbled with the button of your jeans. “Puis je les enlever?” Can I take these off?
You didn’t provide a verbal response; instead, you assisted by pushing the jeans down and shimmying out of them. His fingers immediately nudging their way past your cotton panties and hooking two of them right into your center as his thumb rubbed your clit in quick circles.
“Tu es tremée,” You’re soaked. He moaned into your mouth, the vibration of his groan echoing hotly into your mouth.
You moaned back softly into his. Your moans alone were enough to send Charles into a rampage. He wanted to listen to you for eternity. It was in this moment, he thought he never wanted to hear anything else from your mouth again.
You skillfully removed his race suit from his hips before he guided you to the same compact sofa you just waited patiently on. His lips never left yours as you both fell to the couch – you now straddling him. 
You both were so frantic. So needy. The only time your mouths separated was for him to whisper the foulest things. They only fueled you to ride him harder.
You’re so fucking tight.
Just like that.
Squeezing me like you’re going to come, Lucky.
Such a good girl.
C’mon let me feel you come.
I can feel how fucking wet you are.
You both came simultaneously, heavy breaths exchanged into each other’s mouths. It was so hot.
The suddenness of it all left you breathless, caught off guard by the intensity of the moment. One second, his tongue was pushing its way into your mouth again. The next, you were pushing him away, standing up from the couch as you rushed to find your jeans and get them back on.
The reality began to sink in, a shadow over the fleeting moment. He has a girlfriend, a detail that changed the complexion of the situation. You felt sick to your stomach as the reality began to weigh down on you.
Although the term girlfriend was a bit of a stretch, you felt awful. But you didn’t regret it. You could never regret anything with Charles. He was your person. Your best friend. 
“Nous ne pouvons pas refaire ça.” We can’t do this again.
“Lucky.” His arms, once a source of comfort, now felt like constraints as he grasped you. The taste of his kiss lingered, but it was overshadowed by the bitter understanding that boundaries have been crossed.
You yearned for a different reality where his girlfriend didn’t exist, but the weight of the truth remained. Accepting, you grappled that some things were beyond your control. 
“Cha, c’est bien.” It’s okay.  With a heartfelt effort, you mustered up the biggest smile, gently cupping his face into your hands. Despite your warm gesture, his eyes reflected a sadness, a longing for something more, a desire that he couldn’t act upon. 
“Tu es mon meilleur ami.” You’re my best friend. “Nous oublierons que cela s’est produit.” We will forget that this happened.
Charles shook his head in disagreement at first, but you stopped him. You needed to shift the conversation. You were supposed to be out celebrating. “Nous devons célébrer!” We must celebrate!
You urged Charles to get dressed quickly. You needed to get out of the confines of this room.
Physically, Charles nodded with a smile, but internally, he felt nothing but pain in his heart. It’s always been you. He wanted to yell that she means nothing to him, that it’s you who means everything. 
“Allons-y,” Let’s go. You grabbed his hand, leading him out of the driver’s room to kick off your night of celebration, leaving the pressing issues behind. Pretending as if nothing changed. He was your best friend. You were his best friend. Nothing changed.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
Charles found it unbearable. The attention you were attracting was driving him to the brink of madness as he sat in the booth of the club, with his girlfriend beside him.
“C’est toujours elle,” It’s always her. She leaned over into Charles ear. 
His so-called girlfriend wasn’t oblivious, like he thought. She always picked up on his gaze following you, his constant talk about you, and the fact you were consistently his top priority. Initially, she shrugged it off, given your close friendship. It only became apparent to her when she sensed that your needs started taking precedence over hers. 
She couldn’t even pretend to ignore the marks on his neck. 
“Quoi?” What? Charles finally glanced at her, breaking free from his trance on you. It only prompted laughter from her, evidence that his attention was solely fixed on you. He heard her though. He just didn’t want to acknowledge that he had been caught.
“You’re wasting my time,” his girlfriend muttered before standing up, grabbing her things to leave. “If you want her, tell her.” These were the final words she uttered to Charles before exiting the club, leaving him behind.
But little did she know that he had attempted to share his feelings for you numerous times. It just never worked out. The timing was always off. 
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cringe-but-proud · 5 months
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Hi! You must’ve JUST posted while I was searching a tag! WELCOME to the crowd of other amateur writers who have no idea what we’re doing!
I have a request for a short fanfic/drabble! Wonka 2023 where fem!reader is a storyteller who worked in the laundry room when Willy arrives. Reader is closer with Noodle and usually tells her bedtime stories before going to sleep, and Willy comes to admire the vast imagination in the stories while falling in love, to Noodle’s joy. I haven’t had the motivation to write in a long time, so I hope you’d be up to trying to get the story out of my head!
Hi! Thanks sm for the request. Hope I could do your idea justice lol
Willy Wonka x Storyteller!Fem!Reader (Wonka 2023)
Warnings: None, I think. Sort of just a cute fluffy one.
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Three years ago, you made the worst and most unforgivable mistake of your life: Taking a shower at Ms. Scrubbit's hotel.
To make a fairly short story shorter, you neglected to read the small print, leading to you being in a massive debt to her. So, for the next 5 years of your life, you'd be forced to work in a dirty, old laundry room.
You were absolutely miserable at first. Your days dragged by and your nights were mostly spent curled up in your bed crying. But, once you accepted your situation, you found a way to make the days go by faster: Making up stories in your head while you worked.
You'd always had quite the creative mind; so, weaving tales of magic and wonder was a fun way to spend your time.
Plus, Noodle always liked to hear your stories before she went to sleep.
But, recently you'd earned another fan of your stories.
Willy was the newest person who was unfortunate enough to end up down here. And lately he'd started sitting at the desk in Noodle's room every night, tinkering with new chocolate recipes or practicing his reading and writing skills, while you told Noodle a bedtime story.
But, according to noodle, he was actually in there just to listen to you. Supposedly, the moment you left, he'd turn to noodle and the two would discuss whatever story you'd told that night.
If that was true, you were honored.
One night, Noodle and Willy snuck out of the laundry room to do who knows what. And a couple hours later, Noodle returned without Willy. She told you all about the adventure they had which apparently included milking a giraffe, flamingos, and a run in with the police.
Her recount of the night was entertaining, and you were glad she's had fun. But, you couldn't help but feel a bit worried for Willy. "So, what's gonna happen to Willy?" You asked. "Is he getting arrested?"
Noodle shook her head. "He told me he'd talk his way out of it." She said as she got into bed. She tilted her head at you. "Do you like him?"
"What?" You flushed.
"Like, do you wanna be his girlfriend?"
"I-" You were about to say no, but that wasn't entirely true. You admired him. He had a brilliant mind, and he was unbelievably handsome. "Okay, how about I tell you a story?"
"So, you do wanna be his girlfriend."
"Story is beginning now."
Later in the night, you were in your own room, about to settle in for bed when someone knocked at your door.
You furrowed your brows in confusion, getting up to open the door for whoever it was.
"Hey." Willy greeted. "Sorry if I woke you up." His hair looked wet which was strange, but you were more concerned with why he was at your door.
"Don't worry, I wasn't asleep. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I was just wondering if... Uh, did you tell Noodle a story while I was gone?"
You nodded. "I did."
He seemed a little disheartened, which made you feel bad. "I'm sure noodle can retell you the story tomorrow." You offered, trying to lighten his mood.
"She could. But, the way you... I mean... You have a wonderful, imaginative, beautiful mind. And the way you tell your stories, it's amazing! You could read me a grocery list, and I'd be on the edge of my seat." He gushed.
You couldn't help but blush. "You think all of that?"
"Yes! How could I not?" He gave you an affectionate smile.
You returned him smile. "I mean... I could tell the story to you right now, if you want."
Willy thought about it. "It's alright. I think I can go without a story for one night." He said reassuringly.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Thanks for the offer, though."
He began to step away from your door, saying a quick goodnight before he began walking toward his room.
"Wait, Willy." He stopped and turned to you.
You walked up to him and kissed his cheek. Willy blushed. "What was that for?"
You shrugged. "To make up for the story you missed out on?" You offered.
Willy smiled and gave you a quick peck on the lips.
"What was that for?" You asked this time.
"Just cause I like you." He replied as he leaned in to kiss you again.
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evanpeterswhoresblog · 5 months
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Cherry Bomb (pt. 2)
James Potter x f!reader, Sirius Black x f!reader (mentioned)
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warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, oral (male receiving), oral (female receiving), switch james? brief fingering, heavy making out, i love this smut w my heart
summary: you proceed with the second part of your plan. james potter.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: i’m so bad at writing summaries i’m sorry, i promise it’s worth it lol. i suppose this could be a stand off but i like reading them in order. hope you enjoy :) also ps if there’s any mistakes i’m sorry grammarly told me it was fine but i don’t fully trust that hoe smh
~~~
James Potter was a different story. He thought of himself as a gentleman though not many seventeen-year-olds were gentlemen. He thought this solely because he was nothing like his best mate. He had to at least know a girl's name before taking her to bed. Though, he typically liked to know a bit more than just that. So, in order to shag James Potter, one must abide by a few more rules than with dear Sirius Black. One, she must be friendly. Two, she must have some knowledge of quidditch. Three, she must be willing to stroke his massive ego despite how humiliating it may be. And four, the most important rule, she must be ready to play along with his games. Because James Potter was a chaser in all senses. And oh, how he loved a good chase.
~~~
You peak around the corner of one of the hallways, a bit out of breath. You just ran down a few flights of stairs to get here. For a few seconds you search the hallway, then he appears. He’s alone. Good.
It’s been two weeks since your night with Sirius, and it hasn’t been easy. You regret your whole show of making him remember your name, it’s caused more harm than good. But it felt good in the moment, it felt more than good. Shagging Sirius all together became your best shag the second he pressed you against the wall and kissed you till you were out of breath. You regret picking him first. In retrospect though, you had no idea how much he’d care for a second time. He’s always been known as a one-nighter. It’s been hard having to deny him, and it’s been hard convincing him that he has you mistaken for another girl. But you’ve managed.
You feel bad about it, but you try not to pay it much mind as the second part of your plan is about to begin.
You clutch your books to your chest and begin to walk down the hallway, your face down. You know what his shoes look like. So, when they begin to come closer you loosen your grip on your books and shift your body ever so slightly so that you’re in his way. Inevitably, the two of you bump into each other, and your books quickly fall to the floor.
“Shit,” you say as you fall to your knees to start gathering your things.
“Sorry love, didn’t see you there. Let me help,” he replies, crouching down in front of you.
You look at him. “Oh, it’s alright, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Me either.” He laughs, handing you one of your papers. His eyes linger on yours. “I think I know you.”
“I doubt it.”
“No, I do. You’re the girl my mate Sirius thinks he shagged.”
You look away, pretending to be flustered. “I don’t know why he’s so set on me. I mean, I was at that party, but I went back to my dorm with my friend. And I think I’d remember a night with him you know, with his reputation.”
“Yeah, I dunno, he tends to get hammered and forget a lot,” he says. You look back at him and watch as he runs one of his hands through his dark curls. A habit of his. “I’m sure he’ll stop bothering you soon enough.”
“Yes, when the next girl is in his bed,” you reply. The two of you share a laugh and you pick up your last paper. You hold them close to your chest and stand, he follows. “Well thanks for helping, you’re very kind.”
He smiles that brilliant smile of his. “It’s only right.”
You return the smile. “I’ve got to get to class thanks again James.”
“You know my name? Are you one of my adoring fans?”
He’s smirking now, his arms folded across his chest. His ego is taking over. Perfect.
You shyly look down for a few seconds before meeting his eyes again. “Isn’t everyone a fan of the famous chaser from Gryffindor?”
“You’d be surprised how many aren’t.”
“Well, that lot must simply consist of fools.” You look down at your watch. “Seems I’m going to be a bit late to history of magic. ‘Suppose it’s alright, I don’t care for it much anyway. But I best be going, wouldn’t want to keep you from your class.”
“That’s quite kind of you y/n,” he says.
You raise a brow. “Oh? Do you happen to be one of my adoring fans?”
“Perhaps, or perhaps Sirius has been talking our ears off about you.”
“I think I like the first answer better.”
He smirks. “I see. It was nice running into you then. Literally.”
“Yes, it was.” You step past him, your eyes lingering on him for a few more seconds. “Goodbye then James.”
“Goodbye y/n.”
You leave fast with a smile on your face.
Phase one is complete.
~~~
For the next two weeks, you have more of those run ins with James. Each time having a different reaction. Some end in a sweet goodbye, some end with you barely acknowledging him at all, and some end in a quick walk through the halls together. You know how it messes with his head. One day you’re a girl who strokes his ego with flattering compliments, and another day you brush past him as if he doesn’t exist. By the sixth encounter, you relish in the knowledge that he’s starting to bump into you. Not the other way around.
“I’m starting to get Sirius. I suppose he wishes it was you that he shagged.”
The two of you are walking alone, not another person is in the hall. You look up at him, your cheeks flushing when you find him already looking down at you. He runs his hand through his hair. You hate how it makes your stomach fill with butterflies. You turn your head away.
“I don’t know why he would wish that with me.”
“I could name a few reasons,” he says.
You’ve stopped walking at this point. You turn your body to face him, another shy smile on your face. James Potter is such a charmer. You’ve known this. Yet his words affect you as if you have no idea about his reputation of being a flirt.
This is bad, you think.
It’s been hard enough resisting the urge to take Sirius up on another night together, even harder keeping up the lie that it never happened. You should stop this before it gets any worse, you know that. However, from the look James is giving you, you know you won't be able to stop this no matter how hard you try.
“Yeah?” You eventually challenge. “What reasons might those be Mr. Potter?”
“For starters, you are incredibly fit.” You watch his eyes trail up and down your body for a few seconds before returning to yours. “You’re kind, you’re funny, you make your interest noticeable, but you aren’t desperate.”
“I never claimed to be interested in you though, that’s an assumption.” You point out.
He takes a step closer to you, your breath catches in your throat. “So, if I were to, I dunno, snog you right now, you wouldn’t be pleased?”
Despite everything in your head screaming at you to snap out of it and push him away for the plan's sake, you can’t. No matter how hard you plan it seems that James Potter’s charm outdoes it. You don’t dare to move a muscle.
“I’m not sure, you might have to test and see.”
He takes another step. “I don’t want to be hexed though, if this experiment ends in the possibility of you not liking it.”
You take a step forward. The two of you are so close you can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.
“Probability and possibility are different you know.”
He lifts one of his hands to your chin, tilting it up ever so slightly. “So, it’s a possibility that you’ll push me off and hex me, and it’s a probability that you’ll...”
“Snog you harder.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll take my chances then.”
He begins to lean his head down, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning yours up, meeting him halfway. The first few seconds are gentle. You like how soft his lips are, how you can taste the mint chap stick on them. But once that initial new feeling fades so does the gentleness.
Within a few short minutes you’re no longer standing in the middle of a hallway being kissed as if it were your first. Instead, you’re pressed against the wall in a broom closet, with your shirt half unbuttoned and James Potter’s hand up your skirt. Your head falls back against the stone as he sucks the sweet spot on your neck, his thumb rubbing perfect circles on your clit. You run your hands through his curls, they’re just as soft as you expected.
“James,” you moan.
“Yes love?”
You struggle to catch your breath. “I don’t- we can’t- fuck.”
“Hm?” He presses his thumb down harder; you feel your orgasm approaching. “You alright?”
“Yes- just don’t stop,” you reply.
He lifts his head, his dark eyes meeting yours. “Whatever you want.”
It’s safe to say, after that, phase two is completed.
~~~
Another week passes before you reach phase three. You don’t know why but playing James’s game is awfully fun. You know you’ve got him, and he knows he’s got you, but neither of you will say it. So, before anything can move too far in the closets, one of you stops it with an excuse and the other doesn’t question it. Part of you keeps it going because you want him to say the words, and another part of you keeps it going because deep down you don’t want it to be over yet.
But everything must end eventually.
The game's ending comes on a quiet Friday night. James catches you after dinner, dragging you off to one of the now familiar closets. He wastes no time, instantly pressing his lips to yours the second the door closes. There’s a desperation on his lips you haven’t felt before, it excites you. Naturally, you kiss him back, your hands moving up to his hair, his moving down to your waist.
Only a few seconds pass like this, then he pulls back. You can barely see his eyes through the darkness, but what you can see tells you something different is going to happen. He’s starving and you are more than happy to give him a taste.
“Can I have you y/n?” He whispers.
“Have me?”
He nods, his hands roaming up your sides. You shiver. “I need it, need you. Now.”
“You can have me, as long as you promise to keep this between us.” You place your hands on his shoulders and push him till his back hits one of the walls. “We wouldn’t want Sirius to be jealous that you actually got to shag me. You haven’t told any of them about this have you?”
“I have not, and I won’t. I swear,” he answers. “You can trust me.”
You smile and press a small kiss to his lips before lowering yourself to your knees. “I know I can. You’re a very sweet guy James and for that I’m going to show my appreciation.”
“You don’t have to-”
You begin to undo his belt. “I want to.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
You unzip his trousers and pull away the fabric. You’re not surprised to find him already hard. You also aren’t surprised at how big he is. From the girls you’ve known to have shagged him, only good things came from them. You don’t waste any more time. You take him in your mouth and as far down your throat as possible. Blow jobs have never been your favorite activity, but from the sound that leaves James’s lips you know you’ll enjoy this specific one.
And you do.
You don’t know how much time passes by the time he’s cumming down your throat, but you do know you’ve enjoyed every moment. He moans your name louder than he should, his fingers tangled in your hair as he cums. Typically, you’d spit but this time you swallow. When you’re sure he’s done you pull back and rise, whipping your drool with the back of your hand.
James is breathless when he reaches for you. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you, nor to return the favor. Your legs shake as he buries his face between them, licking and sucking your clit at a perfect rhythm. It’s not long before it’s your turn to come undone due to his mouth. You have to hold yourself up on the wall as you finish, you practically see stars.
You pull him back up a minute later and wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses you once again and you savor the taste of yourself on his lips. It’s like a prize. And a memory you will forever cherish.
“Fuck me James,” you whisper eventually. “Like you mean it.”
“Your wish is my command,” he replies.
His hands fall to your thighs, and he lifts you up. You comply, wrapping your legs around his waist as he positions his hard again cock at your entrance. He enters you slowly, both of you savoring the feeling. He stretches you in an indescribable way that makes your toes curl. You hold him tight as he begins to fuck you.
Due to his active role in quidditch, his stamina is very built. He fucks you through two more orgasms before he even begins to show a sign of finishing. Tears role down your cheeks from the overstimulation, he asks you if you want to stop. You shake your head. He continues. Each thrust hits that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back into your head. When he does eventually finish, he fills you up, his dick pulsing inside you.
He holds you tight after, his face tucked in your neck.
“You’re amazing,” he mumbles, his breath ragged. “I think I’d like to keep you.”
In this moment, you forget about your plan, and you turn your head to press a soft kiss to his sweaty head.
“I wouldn’t mind that.”
~~~
As you lie in bed that night with your diary in hand, a fresh checkmark next to James’s name, you wonder how you’re supposed to go on to the next part. Too many emotions have gotten involved from you, James, and Sirius. You know adding another person into the mix will only cause further issues. However, you also did save the best for last. Intentionally. At least, you think so anyway. James and Sirius have given you times you didn’t know you could ever have.
But then your eyes trail over the last name again.
Remus Lupin.
The show must go on.
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chaos-in-deepspace · 20 days
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LDS: "Watch This!" | Crack
So I dunno about you, but I'm one of those idiots who seldom drink water and sometimes forgets to eat for like two days. So when I stand up too fast it's like a moment of "Oh look the lights went out." So anyway that's the entire idea for this. Everyone experiences this, right? This is a normal human thing to experience when you stand up? Just standing up and almost (or actually) peacing out? Anyway, I never said my writing ideas were good but I they're there.
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Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Fainting, Crack Fic, Reader can't take care of themselves, Zayne is stressed as your doctor, Rafayel might have a heart attack, Xavier just assumes you died, Rafayel does as well but he's dramatic on a good day
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Xavier
"Xavier, I promise you I am totally fine. I just got a little dizzy because of the heat." You tried assuring the blonde man as he looked around his apartment. He had already gotten a cold compress and thrown a glass of water in your hands for you to sip on. This was all because you guys had gone on a small jog together to prepare for the latest event in town and you had gotten a bit woozy. He had insisted on carrying you back to the apartments and here you where.
"Your face went as white as a sheet." He pointed out and you scoffed. Impossible. You don't even think it's possible to turn that color with how hot you had felt. If he said you looked like a cherry tomato or something from how red your face had gotten from the exertion it would've been more believable.
"Xavier, would an unwell person be able to do this?" You asked as you went to stand. As you jolted into a standing position you then remembered a key detail. The water he had given you was the first thing you had to drink today...and you don't think you had breakfast either.
The thought flashed through your mind as you felt the blood pounding in your ears and your vision darkening. Your only thought was 'Oh sugar, we're going down, down.' before you collapsed in on yourself.
Next thing you knew you were lying on the ground, a soft lap underneath you as Xavier fanned you off. You groaned as you came to, staring at Xavier's face. The man looked like he had just witnessed your death as he stared at you with wide eyes.
"Oh good morning." You managed to murmur out. Xavier's eyes narrowed as he glared down at you.
"You said you were fine then immediately fainted. I was about to call an ambulance." He scolded you, his tone harsh as he shifted your head on his lap. You noticed his free hand was holding a cell phone.
"Oh don't do that please. I'm okay."
"That's what you said last time."
"How about this...you get me something yummy to eat and I drink some water and if I'm still fainting after that then we can consider maybe going to see a doctor."
"Do you swear?"
"No..."
"We're going to the hospital." You then felt your world shift again as you were tossed unceremoniously over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You beat his back, begging him to let you down. Alas, once Xavier had his mind made, there was nothing you could do to stop him.
Zayne
"Have you already eaten today?" It was a simple enough question as you sat at the end of your check up with your favorite doctor. Your legs swinging over the edge as you put in some thought to that question. Zayne sat there, waiting patiently as he looked up and quirked an eyebrow in question.
"That is a brilliant question that I don't have an answer to." You might've eaten something today...or perhaps that was yesterday? The days sometimes blurred together in the most confusing ways.
"Have you drank any water?" Oh that was an easy question. No. The answer was no.
"You know the first ingredient in an energy drink is water."
"No..." Zayne said, pinching his eyebrows together in frustration. How you managed to still be alive is a miracle. Not even science could explain how you didn't just kneel over on any given day with how little care you put into your health.
"Zayne, I can promise you, I am totally healthy. Watch this." You stated before jumping up off the examination table. Immediately you felt the world shifting under you like the floor decided to become sentient and move like a damn treadmill.
Next thing you knew, you were waking up in the arms of the best cardiac surgeon at Akso hospital. You grumbled a bit as the light was bright. You looked up to see Zayne's not amused expression, in fact you might even call it a frustrated look.
"How long was I out?"
"30 seconds too long."
"Am I in trouble?"
"You're going to the cafeteria with me right now to get food and water. If you faint again I'm admitting you for the night and hooking you up to an IV."
"So you're saying fainting gets me a dinner date with the Doctor Zayne, and a possible sleepover?"
"Why are you like this?"
Rafayel
You made the realization that you could only entertain yourself by playing on your phone for so long. Rafayel had promised that as soon as he finished some light detail work on his latest painting, you could go out to town and grab some dinner.
That was well over six hours ago as you laid on his couch. You had already finished a book you had downloaded on your phone, scrolled through all your social media, checked out new memes, and caught up on videos of people you followed. As you looked over you saw Rafayel was still sitting on his stool, painting away.
You groaned, rolling yourself off the couch you had been glued to for those entire six hours. You plopped onto the floor, noting that he really did need to clean this studio up a bit. Normally Rafayel would at least be talking to you, but he had been so quiet and boring today.
"Raf...I'm dying of boredom here." You finally called out to him. The man in question looked over at you then looked outside. The sun had set a long time ago and he paused in what he was doing.
"I promise, I'm almost done." He said with a sigh and you groaned again. Then you remembered a little party trick you had up your sleeve. You'd admit you were actually hungry on account of being too busy to eat and then being promised food earlier, you opted not to have snacks. Not to mention water was gross for drinking so it all accumulated into the perfect way to get his attention.
"Rafayel, I'm fading away. I'm starving. I might die. I'm so weak." You called out from the floor and Rafayel finally turned in his stool to eye you up and down.
"I'm sure you are." His tone was sarcastic as he looked at you. He seemed to be entertained by your antics, "I can always order you some food. I also have snacks in the kitchen." He pointed out.
"That won't work, Raf. I'm too far gone. I mean...just watch this." You said, jumping up from your position on the ground. As soon as you were in a standing position, your body fought against you. Your ears were ringing uncomfortably and your vision went in and out. You could barely hear Rafayel calling your name in concern, followed by a him cursing as things clattered.
You collapsed, fainting just like you knew your dumbass would. You knew your body and knew the perfect conditions for going lights out, after all.
When you came to, you saw Rafayel almost in tears as he tried getting you to wake up. You murmured something that not even you could decipher as Rafayel's shoulders sagged in relief.
"I thought you actually died." He looked shaken up as you raised a hand to touch his cheek.
"Can we get food now like you promised?"
Rafayel was silent for a moment as he calmed his heart down and looked at you, "Did you faint just so I'd stop painting and take you to dinner?"
"Well did it work?"
"...Yes, but never do that again."
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The more I think about season 2, the more grateful I am.
In a lot of ways, OFMD's writers, cast, and crew were given an almost impossible task. S1 was brilliant and took everyone by surprise by how successful it became. I am still shocked every time I rewatch by how smart and efficient the writing is, how intelligent the social commentary. S1 is a masterclass in good television.
And for s2, expectations were incredibly high. OFMD found massive word-of-mouth success in a way I've never seen with any other show, and they suddenly had a big, incredibly passionate audience - the renewal was because of massive fan support, and that must have translated to an incredible amount of pressure in the writer's room. Plus, as if that wasn't enough on its own, they're having to deal with budget cuts and Max slashing them down to only 8 episodes to tell a 10-episode story. This is an incredibly daunting task.
And yeah, I've been critical. OFMD is my favorite show, no contest, and it's easy to be critical of the things we love. We can all see that the pacing was off this season, especially in those last two episodes. Some arcs felt rushed; some side characters didn't get enough screen time to set up what they're doing this season. Jim and Olu especially suffer for that. It's inexcusable that this show's budget was slashed the way it was and I'm sad for what we could have had.
But, on the whole? Holy shit, this season was incredibly successful! Despite an incredible amount of fan pressure, the writers told the story they wanted to tell. They never lost sight of Ed and Stede's story, and were smart about allocating screen time so our leads' arcs never suffered too much for it. There's so much creative problem solving - when they realized they'd need to be smart about which side characters to keep on screen, they turned Buttons into a bird in a way that underscored season themes of transformation and change. 10/10, no notes. They even remembered their audience and left us on a satisfying note for all our characters - we get to end with Ed and Stede, happy and together, starting their new life.
They had an impossible task and they did a fucking commendable job. Character beats and humor are balanced amazingly well. Ed and Stede feel so much more fleshed out this season. Just like in s1, OFMD will never be a show where you can catch everything with one watch - there's so many little jokes, hidden gags, small details to discover with every rewatch. And every single actor is giving it their all in every scene! You can tell how much this show was a labor of love for everyone involved.
I'm proper fucking impressed. Here's hoping they get a renewal and a better budget for season 3!
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