#season 3 is the future fuck you
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TRANCE! CHANCE! STANCE!
#mob psycho 100#mp100#tome kurata#takenaka momozou#tsubomi takane#hoshida origo#season 3 is the future fuck you#i was declining myself to post this one but fuck it whatever for this four most fav characters#is a dizzy and stupid meant to be like that very quirky who cares#i like quirky stupid art like this#op was so good this is what 2021 kino was waiting for to look like this
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Okay I've been thinking about Owl House a lot lately and...Guys I'm just so damn angry. Because I rewatched the first episode of the finale and realized something. That first episode is a season finale—That whole episode is one season's worth of content crammed into a single episode. That's at LEAST 12 episodes in 60 minutes—five minutes for each damn episode. But remember the first season of toh was nineteen, the second was twenty-one. If we assume the team would have continued with around that many episodes the average is around twenty. Twenty fucking episodes is sixty minutes—THREE MINUTES AN EPISODE.
This then led me to thinking about my other cancelled show with LGBTQ+ representation—Steven Universe. It's basically the same shit, except somehow fucking worst. The diamond arc should have been it's own fucking season, curing the corrupted gems and them having to get reintroduced to gem/human society should have been a damn season too! The two year time skip makes sense when you really think about it—that's the least amount of time it would have taken to get all that shit done in universe! A year to get the gems readjusted, a year to dismantle the diamond empire—plus episodes filling in gaps/unanswered questions. No wonder Rebecca fought so damn hard for SU Future and the movie! It was a desperate attempt to give herself and the fans some kind of closure! And don't forget! Steven universe seasons were LONG—the median amount of episodes was twenty-four.
This shit wasn't bad writing, it was rushed writing. Desperate attempts to cram what should have been at LEAST two seasons into a few short episodes. Can you imagine this? Sitting with your coworkers and trying to figure out how to make at least forty episodes only 3–6? What can be kept and what has to be left to the imagination? Think of what we fucking lost at those tables—Spinel could have been teased and had a better build up, we could have gotten a Wittebane Brothers flashback, we could have explored the characters in both shows trauma. I'm not just mad—I'm livid and not even for us. For Dana Terrace, for Rebecca Sugar. To have something you created thrown away without a care. I'd be in fucking tears.
Fuck Disney, fuck Warner Brothers.
#the owl house#steven universe#owl house#fandom#su fandom#toh#su future#toh season 3#su season 5#toh season three#fuck this#we were robbed#Dana and Rebecca were robbed#there's a special place in hell for TV executives#su movie#toh finale#dana terrace#rebecca sugar#i'm so sorry#You didn't deserve this
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not to be dramatic but oh my god. oh my god. oh my fucking god. the thea soul. oh my god. oh my god. mick mercury????? the thea FUCKING SOUL???????? OH MY FUCKING GOD
#oh yeah and btw fuck you ramses o'flaherty. bitch#juno steel and the man of the future part 1#tpp season 2#junoverse#mick mercury#oh man...#i just wanted to see my boy (i miss nurveyev)#and now theres all these fucking happenings. god damn. can nobody catch a break in this podcast#yes i am enjoying myself <3
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also just to say I'm probably not going to speculate about much until s3 comes out (could change though, I have a terrible track record when it comes to this), mostly bc I don't have time or energy and bc I saw last time how much speculating can interfere with enjoying the experience of watching a new season and also the number of dumb takes you see from people w zero media literacy but let's not bring that up again
#young royals#young royals s3#young royals season 3#like I'm tired from school and reading theories is fun but we've gotten maybe a minute of footage total from s3 guys#let's not go too overboard#also I will get violent if the delusion and anons arguing about irrelevant shit post-s2 makes a return in march#don't even think about it. we are going to sit down as a fandom and watch the show as the writers intended it to be#and we will have a good time making more post s3 analyses and breakdown posts one last time right??? right???#theorizing and predictions are good and fun! there's nothing wrong with that! god knows I will do some minor speculating in the future!#just DO NOT try to act like you have been in the fucking writers' room :) I think I have enough people blocked for that to stay off my dash#but I know most of my mutuals were here last year and oh my GOD the number of posts#acting like s2 was bad just because they thought their predictions were better or just bc their speculation turned out to be just that#actually painful to scroll through and filter out#anyway enough of my complaining our boys are back :3 I missed my children <33
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Speaking of pipe dreams, future flash, Isaac's Union file is brought up on screen, the top says "Finn, Isaac".
#The Orville#clisaac#Jemi talks the Orville#i dont know if he would take claire's last name but tbh i think season 3 isaac is getting there#that he would actually be like yes this is a display of devotion and trust and admiration#i hate this stupid show and its stupid robot in love#also yes he officially is instated in the union in this future#he already serves under them as is#it's one of those...you've proven yourself and we have given you the highest honour we can bestow#the first AL in the union#like...isaac chose his own name - which is a symbol of differentiation and independence - him taking on claire's name#would just be another fuck u to the kaylon - like i am who i want to be i am isaac not a unit
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Belos…
Fucking Asshole…
STOP MANIPULATING CHILDREN!!!
#why does this bitch not have any other hobbies???#like bitch we get it you have a dead brother you killed and have multiple issues#but that not an excuse to fucking manipulate children like it’s gonna be the next hot trend#the owl house#toh#toh season 3#toh for the future#toh spoilers#toh belos#toh philip#toh phillip wittebane#i’ll shut up now
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it's supposed to be 85° tomorrow are you fucking kidding me
#IT'S DECEMBER CAN I GET A COOL BREEZE AT LEAST. IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE THE MID 50S MONTH. GIRL.#i have a big presentation tomorrow and i don't have time to wash my hair so dressing nice was my only option but my only nice school tops#are sweaters. what the fuck do you mean 85° in december i'm going to kill myself.#girl the dead week stress is becoming dead week apathy i already know i'm failing a class and i have until like friday to write a 5 page#paper with no prompt and pray my prof is feeling merciful enough to accept it even though it'll be late#i can feel myself shutting down and i won't be able to explain myself to my parents or my family at the holiday shitfests but! might be#getting diagnosed in the nearish future if 1) my new dr believes in adhd and 2) i can convince her i have it so fucking bad#sorry gang i feel like i do this every finals season but oh? my god am i having a genuinely bad time <3 also i sprained my ankle last night#and it hurts So Bad today so i'm hoping if i limp into class and also up to the front tomorrow they'll grade me easy#i do have to finish my fucking slides first. sighhhhhhhhhhhhhh.#a post
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Gentle reminder If you post Thw Owl House leaks/spoilers Camila Noceda would be very disappointed with you.
#the owl house#camila noceda#toh#toh s3#the owl house season 3#for the future#just fucking don't okay#if you do you're just an ass#she also would break your kneecaps#so would thw rest of the noceda family#willow would beat your ass as well
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9 people to get to know better
tagged by @froggierboy :)
last song: Super Reflector by the Technicolors
currently watching: Adventure Time and It's Always Sunny
currently reading: Nona the Ninth and Red Dragon
current obsession: J. C. Leyendecker
tagging: @jewishbookwyrm, @me-sorta, @emeraldyke, @sarcastic-clapping, @beemotifs, @whimsigod, @metonymph, @holochromatic, @orangejuice-fiction
#no one feel obligated to participate 👍#it's been so long since i've seen/participated in a tag game!#everybody go listen to cinema sublimina right now <3#also if you don't like super reflector i'm begging you to try neon roses#i'm sick over the fact that they aren't touring for the foreseeable future#tag games#it's been fun to finally see the full linear path of adventure time. i only caught individual episodes here and there when i was younger an#some of them were so incredibly fucked up. they remain some of the most incredibly fucked up episodes overall.#struggling to finish iasip. the most current season is gruelling. will likely be substituting it with something.#*actively ignoring the 5 clown movie fics open on my phone for the obsession question. i have not touched them in 2 weeks. but they r there#the leyendecker books i've ordered sit unopened bc i want to finish a book so badly before i crack a new one#can't bring myself to post all the pictures i took on the last day of the exhibit bc i don't want it to be over. keep thinking abt him/them
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lmao I keep getting into the Usagi/Seiya plotline since it... genuinely actually works and also manages to highlight Usagi/Mamoru well (in a way they... aren't great at doing when they're actually both in the same room, oops)
and then someone always barges in BUT USAGIIII DON'T YOU ALREADY HAVE A SPECIAL SOMEONE??????!!!!!! like the world's most unnecessary Sailor Kool-Aid Man
Usagi's got two hands and genuine feelings for both of them, y'all, leave her alone
#in other news this season feels like it has too many characters and not enough good direction on what to do with them#the outer senshi despite going on about WE GOTTA DEFEND YOU FROM EXTERNAL THREATS are...... fighting with the starlights#instead of the Literal Definite Threats From Outside the Solar System?#like yes I get that the starlights are kind of sketchy and/or assholes but. Mouse/Siren/Crow/Nyanko are Right There. priorities guys#Saturn just kind of wandered off and disappeared after the Nehelenia business...?#Chibichibi was structurally set up to mirror Chibiusa's position in the family but so far has just been a walking plot device#and not well integrated into the rest of the cast or show#partially I suspect they spent too long on the ''nobody knows who the others are!!!!'' dramatic irony and it's thrown the pacing off#and also. unfortunately. galaxia is boring#(this makes me feel broadly vindicated in my preference for the villains' anime backstories that are more personalized)#(compared to the manga's ''they're all incarnations of chaos'' thing or w/e it is? bc chaos....... is just kind of dull)#.......anyway contemplating how I'd patch stuff up#I think I'd shift it around so HaruMichi&tc are the ones primarily fighting the animamates w/ Usagi#& the inner senshi are trying to figure out what the deal is w the starlights (who they don't especially love)#something something disillusionment as they see how the 3 lights' personas are not especially nice people AND then also connect them#to these three fairly ruthless sailor senshi?#mixing around the social groupings also reinforces Usagi's loneliness after Mamoru gets put on a bus#and doing a little more with ChibiChibi as a parallel to Chibiusa - like there's a thing with the photo changing to leave out Chibiusa yes?#so bringing in more of that comparison (and having some unnerving creepy stuff of other people starting to not remember Chibiusa?) -#emphasizes the idea of ''fuck something's up something's happened to Mamoru that's affecting the future'' as a call-back#to earlier in the season when Nehelenia almost trapped him and made Chibiusa fade#(.....and if you REALLY must then Usagi can have Conflict Feelings about her little love triangle via attributing#Chibiusa's disappearance to the wrong cause)#..........this is way too long of a tag rant what am I doing with my life#James liveblogs television
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.
#i saw an article that made in abyss season 3 is in production and like fuck yes let's fucking gooooooo#i like the show but let's be real. im just ecstatic there's going to be a new ost in the future#kevin penkin i could kiss you#miscellaneous
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just watched for the future live. not gonna say anything but WILLOW IS SO RELATABLE WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH :(
in all seriousness i am in tears awesome job dana and i'm sorry itunes leaked it. all your work was worth it, and i don't think this means much coming from me but i love your work and you make me really happy. (not gonna @ her bc i'd be so embarrassed if she saw this LMFAO i'd probably cry.)
#the owl house#for the future#the owl house season 3#CRYING#willow park#I'M SO SADDDDDD#thank you dana terrace#willow's plotline hit SO FUCKING CLOSE TO HOME i love her so much#like actually thank you so much dana#dana terrace
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another november 5th approaches and i once again have failed to finish watching the television program supernatural
#i'm sure the brainworms will strike me again at some point in the future and i'll pick it back up#but now that i've gotten through widower arc/tombstone it's like. fuck. what's even left to look forward to?#scoobynatural? the chuck villain reveal? you asked what about all this is real / we are?#eileen coming back? dean and cas' extremely bitter and sad divorce? the love confession?#that's not a lot of footholds to get me through 3 seasons of television!!
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Dr. Michael Stone (Pt. 2)
Art and Character by: Spiderthingcoo on X
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, forced voyeurism, body exploration, edging, double v penetration, female anatomy, rough and drugged induced sex, manhandling, substance abuse, 3some-ish, rimming (m receiving) nudity appreciation, breeding kink, a bit of dacryphilia, Objectification, overstimulation, filthyness undercut, no proofread, bit of cum play, bellybulge, electrocution, Michael is a sick fuck and I love him.
Miguelverse
Summary: Michael Stone has the time of his life.
A/N: I got too carried away and the fanart didn't help jskjs, hope you enjoy <3
Time ran at the speed of a snail. Each blink was torture, like you were removing seconds from the clock with each brief pause of your eyes.
How long have you been here? Certainly too fed up with trying in succeeding to escape. There was no punctual way to determine in which part of the day you were as there was no windows, no clocks, or anything of the sort that dictated the unstoppable force that always outlasted everything within reach.
Just dull pale grey walls, borderline white in every direction your sight stretched. Which wasn't much.
Your new habitat, was minimalistic, decored with the basics to sate physiological needs such as sleep, shower or pee. Ceiling too lowered to crawl or stretch your muscles properly when you tried to keep mobility going.
A fancy cage, nothing much, nothing less.
How long had it been since he slammed the door shut? Days? Week?
You didn't know. And the lack of a sense of time was irrevocably screwing with your head in a way it resembled how Michael had fucked your insides. There was no sun to bath in, no wind to blow and mess with your hair as you swung through the buildings, providing the right amount of adrenaline, no structures to crawl or stretch your muscles completely on. No external stimulus.Nothing.
Just a few meters of space that caged you like a live sample for a maniac's twisted experimenting and amusement. Fed and cleaned whenever you required it. It sometimes blurred the line between being a pet and a Guinea pig.
Just your cell, withering away your spirit. Even the food provided, lacked that homey seasoning you adored indulging in HQ's cafeteria after a mission. The only rift of color popping in the tray and around you were the vast array of vitamins and minerals, shaped in round and squared pills, nested within a metallic cup.
Cause according to him, if his offspring was to emerge within you, your body had to be properly nurtured. Ironically, the food was bland and tasteless, but you didn't starve. And it spooked you how easy your body took a liking to it.
Skin healthier, glowing and silky even, a soft natural flush dressed your cheeks, metabolism in its peak, a couple of pounds were lost, but that was the least of your concerns.
He was set into perfecting the vessel for his future seedling. You.
Michael was... You didn't even know where to start besides being the obvious doppelganger of Miguel. The only way you could tell them apart was because of his eyes. They were brown, like the most scrumptious shade of chocolate you've ever seen.
Unlike Miguel, he just took what he wanted and needed, everything in the name of science. He was the embodiment of 'the end justifies the means'.
Alluring, inviting you to a forbidden and fucked up world where he was the unanimous and dangerous sovereign. Like his whole aura. His impassive act was only a coy facade to hide what was underneath.
Madness, lust and something so dern you didn't want to try and decipher cause in truth, you were terrified to fuck around and find out. He had already gave you a little taste of his abyss, but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted you to drown in him and everything that rendered his mere existence.
He needed to crown a queen for his chaos. And what a better way to do it, than choosing you to give him a perfect offspring.
In his own twisted world the need of a superior being was a must. A need he was creating the proper foundation to sate.
He was prepping you to bare his child. And it scared you to no end. Not that you didn't want kids, but to be forced to fit into that role out of sudden scared you shitless.
And you didn't want to sour and make your thoughts awkward by knowing a variant of Miguel would be the father.
Fuck. No.
If your mind could have arms, it surely would've slapped itself for such thought. Not that you didn't think Miguel was handsome, in fact, you avoided being seen as that recruit that had the hots for the boss, lingering too much around him made you more nervous than you liked to admit.
And when you were paired with him, the anxiety of knowing you could mess up went heavenwards. Your Miguel wasn't one to dwell into conversations if they weren't necessary, canon before personal interests came first and always, awkward social skills that came out stilted and forced almost mechanically, specially when someone caught him off guard or in the high level of stress his gorgeous brain fed him on a daily basis.
Grumpy was his default emotional read, snarky or dry humored replies when dumb questions were asked, overworked to the bone. Secretly labeling himself as a bad man cause of the things he needed to do in order to keep the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse working, a walking failure through and through, weak for meeting his emotional needs and trying to be happy for once and failing at it, and apparently the only one that knew how to keep everything together.
And still, the first one that always replied the call for help by either sending a group, or creating an escape plan route to ensure your and the rest's safety with the help of Lyla.
Unlike him. The man in the flesh and bone, that would easily supplant him physically, and had been watching you ever since you awoke. You didn't have to turn to him to know his presence had invaded your already reduced and secluded space.
Brown coals raked over the slope of your neck, the dip between your shoulder and junction, gaze remained over your rising form in every disguised breath you took, hoping he'd go away. Long and tan fingers tangled softly in the silks of your hair and the touch alone made your skin crawl, and not precisely in a good and pleasant way, no.
Whenever he was around your spider senses tingled, sometimes you'd end up with a headache, unable to shut it off. You didn't have to look deep enough to know he was as messed up and unpredictable as the task he had bestowed upon you.
"Eres tan perfecta..." his impish titter made your heart wrench and anxiety to bubble in the deepest of your gut.
In other circumstances you'd be a flustered mess, flattered even to have such kind of man groveling over you. But this one in specific had you coiling away from his touch, hoping to vanish into thin air or turn invisible like Miles.
God, you really wanted to have Mile's invisibility powers right now, so at least you could have a chance to escape. But dreaming had gone out the window ever since he dumped you here.
He never lingered too much, even when he did routine checkups on you. Blood and other fluid samples were taken, he made sure you ate the bland and soggy looking food 'til nothing but crumbs were left, and then he'd leave to do whatever he did in the lab and wouldn't return until your next feeding time.
The only thing he had in common with your Miguel was the workaholic attitude. He'd spend hours if not days tinkering with canisters and things you low key feared to know their components. You've noticed the little parts of limbs floating in some recipients, none of them human.
What kind of things this Alchemax did? Cause the little you had seen so far wasn't nice nor pretty.
Alchemax took seriously their research, and with this man on charge, you didn't want to even think about what kind of ungodly horrors they harbored. There was a little slapping in the air as he removed his gloves, and it was your chance to crawl away.
Rough pads thrummed over your soft skin, sending shivers down your spine, breath hitched as he beckoned your forearm, the only part of you that budged, towards him in a demanding pull.
"Haven't had the time to properly examine these." he mumbled, more to himself than to you, as his thumbs squeezed soft circles, soothing the previous pressure's discomfort.
You gulped as he narrowed his eyes behind his glasses at the tiny circular slits indented in your wrist, a pale pinkish hue rimmed the tiny hole. The way he admired and looked with child-like wonder at your web shooters was overwhelming.
Cheeks grew warmer as the tip of his nose ran up your forearm to finally stop on the shooters. A soft salty musk emanated from them.
"Organic webbing... Fascinating." He crooned.
He closed his eyes to relish in the smell of your skin. A shaky breath came off your lips as his moist tongue rubbed a kitten lick on it, a bolt of electricity flooded your senses and earned him a whimper. Eyes immediately shifted on you, pupils widening.
Much to your dismay both had accidentally unveiled a borderline gruesome breakthrough. The twinkle in his eyes made your brows twitch in worry. Your neck gulped and his eyes caught the fraction of movement to then smirk.
Pearly whites shone with twisted pride upon the discovery.
"W-Wait-"
The tip of his tongue pressed harder on the slit and you couldn't help but moan. A lovely and surprising melody to his keen ears at your reactions.
Web shooters were a sensitive and therefore an erogenous area.
You tried yanking your arm away, but your knees trembled when he delivered a wriggle of the tip of his tongue, trying to worm into your veins, prodding and tasting unabashedly at your dint.
With every coil of his moist muscle your brain sparked alive, neurotransmitters soaring in wicked delight. Your teeth clamped on your lower lip, stifling another upcoming moan.
The wet sounds and pops of his mouth made your insides clench involuntarily. Legs smothered together, as he now sucked. His lips pursed in that familiar shape it reminded you the way he ate your engorged and sensitive nub.
Head split in two, fighting over what side of reasoning you'd agree with. One side was ashamed such ministrations from your wretched captor turned your unwilling body like puty within seconds in his dexterous hands, and with this newfound information, his power over you just increased tenfold.
Or aghast for allowing such thing, for allowing him to cage you against the bed and his formidable frame while he devoured and toyed with your wrists, and for him to make you feel revered like no man ever had, even if it was for the wrongest of reasons. Brown eyes stared at your countenance with such curiosity and enthrall, as if you were everything he needed. Like his prayers had been answered and delivered in silver platter with you on it, right in his hands.
It didn't help your shaky resolution he squeezed and draped his other thumb in your other slit. Rubbing in lazy circles, pressing the right amount to have your clit throbbing and your mouth panting. The vibrations of his low groan on your skin sent your brain in tiny shortcuts, your synapses were howling.
A shiny streak of his saliva connected with the left wrist. The irisdiscent shine of your webs connected to his bottom lip.
"Tad salty" His tongue licked the web away, His thumb moved in a back and fro motion, alternating between circles and soft licks from his thumb pad.
"Hnng-" Your toes curled in, as your hips stuttered but he grounded his even more on yours, preventing you from shifting too much.
"Stop squirming" He huffed, annoyed, trying to focus his sight on the tiny crevice.
"F-Fucking stop then" you panted in angry breaths
Michael smirked, genuinely amused at your unexpected reaction.
"Why would I? This is the most exciting part of the research."
Shit.
He took your other wrist and kissed the dent, your eyes went shut as he pressed both wrist above your head. Thumbs kneading with a bit more of pressure right above your tiny holes. And God, it was embarrassing hearing yourself mewl like a needy bitch.
How couldn't you notice such thing about yourself after so many years of being a Spiderwoman?
Fuck
And why the fuck were you about to cum while having your wrists stimulated? But more importantly, was he really having a boner by toying with you?
"God, you're a pervert..."
You couldn't help but mumble and he pressed tighter on purpose, sending a muffled whimper through your throat, silencing your yapping.
"I rather the term, Man of science, pequeña. Now stay fucking still."
But you couldn't, not when he kneaded so closely to a spot that send your mouth gaping like a fish out of water, begging to be thrown back in the liquid oxygen. He pressed two inches away from the bitty hole, and that was it.
Jaw clenched and your spine arched. His brow quirked with clinical curiosity at your thrashing despair. Breaths paused and shallow, still deciding whether to moan or sob.
"Nmh-Fuck, fuck, oh my god-" Your eyes rolled back, and your insides clamped. Brain vaporising any coherent thought, mouth too busy catching air and sputtering dumb babble at the consuming climax. Contracting and pulsing at nothing as the little dent squirted a silky and sticky rope towards the wall with a soft Thwipsh. He blinked nearly stupidly at what he had just achieved, cracking his apathetic stare for good.
"Dios mío..." He pressed again and again and you sobbed as the web spurted hapzardly, diverting in every direction and etching to whatever surface it touched or landed. He stared with wide eyes between you and the webs. Limp limb suspended in the air.
Toes curled and clenched at the bedsheets, attempting to anchor yourself at the overwhelming sensations that clouded your judgement. Head spun and buzzed with the thrill not even you achieved when handling those annoying reminders of your solitude in your own hands.
For once your spider senses tingled deliciously. His cock twitched almost painfully at what he just witnessed, he groaned and cupped your face to deliver a deep and breathtaking kiss.
"I knew someday, all my work would be rewarded. All those sleepless nights, those sacrifices, would bring someone like you to me."
He panted, examining you with wicked excitement, shaking you softly in his aroused wake.
"You and I, will create something so beautiful even God will be jealous!."
If it wasn't for the ominous meaning behind those words, you'd be amazed and moved at his overboard thrill. He rested his head on your lower belly, a dark grin plastered over his face, fingers padded your skin, warmth spreading through his hand.
Where are you, Miguel?
"I can't wait to see you swollen, carrying the future of this earth, pequeña."
I'm scared
But as quickly as he laid down, he bolted out of your cell, too enraptured in his musings to actually care for your rattled state.
Now that his motives were clear, your need to escape was greater. But maybe if you played your cards well, you'd have a chance.
I need you.
----
The table landed on the wall, shattering in smaller shards that splintered all over the place. Michael's back rose and tensed so tight, his lab robe wrinkled, trapping the fabric in between his muscles.
The corner of his lip twitched, almost like a tick, teeth menaced with baring, fury boiling underneath his skin. If he could, the steam would blow off his ears, but instead he prowled over your unsuspecting and sleeping form in the very back of the lab. Mind assaulting his reasoning with so many questions, but one in particular made his hands to clench into tight fist.
Why weren't you pregnant?
He had came inside in your most dangerous and fertile days, and still, you weren't pregnant.
As much as he was a patient man, he was throughly disappointed at his own failure. Was his seed defective? No.
He had run studies on himself and his results were everything a desperate man in need of children could ask for.
Fertile, fruitful, healthy.
And still, the screen shone brighter on the 'Negative' results.
Hot and furious breath fanned over the glass wall where he saw you sleeping. He'd have to run even more tests on you, start all over and wait for another two weeks.
But what if your body refused him again? Your womb's rejection was an open slap on his face, when he had been nothing but kind to you. He had been taking care of you with the best things, and this is how you repaid him.
It frustrated him beyond reason. But he was a patient man. Weeks were nothing compared to all the time he had already waited. With a final huff, he returned to his lab to correct your stupid hormonal imbalance that was costing him his valuable time and resources.
However, a Public Eye officer barged in, breath in his throat. His personal hounds, and whenever they came in, it only meant one thing. They had found something, and by the scratches and claw like marks on the officer's bleeding shoulder, meant it was something good.
You had to wait for a moment longer.
-----
"Lyla"
Miguel's gruff whisper came behind the corner of the structure he was in. Lyla appeared right on his shoulder.
"Any readings?"
"Some-" She froze for a second, "Ssft-"
Her yellow shade glitched to then appear right before him, she was speaking, but Miguel could barely understand her.
Fuck.
The place's interference was messing up with her programming. His gizmo popped with a message, your location. Beeping in a bright yellow dot within the ever tall and imposing Alchemax building in the middle of the city, like a watchtower.
Your last signal. Earth S-2015.
If you were here, he was sure you'd quip up something about a movie reference, something about a Mordor, whatever the thing meant, to lighten up the mood. He'd never admit it, but it always made him a bit curious as to what you watched or did to entertain yourself. The things you spoke were beyond absurd and still, he listened, inwardly pondering as to what kind of substances your universe used to get that sort of inspiration, but now there was nothing but silence at his side. And he grew tired of it.
No matter how much he had tried to recover or track you, the signal vanished into thin air. And he wasn't happy. At first he thought the gizmo's self restart feature would bring the signal back, but days kept passing, and nothing happened, he even went to the extent of rewiring the trinket's code to see if there was anything between lines, but there was nothing after the current location he was in.
Miguel swung through the buildings, avoiding the constant and alert drones soaring through the sky. Alchemax safety propaganda was plastered all over the place, but this earth's inhabitants looked everything but happy. Unlike his wonderful and manageable utopia he had helped to improve.
Fear was forever etched in their faces, constantly moving, never lingering too much around those mean looking officers. The Public Eye.
Their image all over the city, with low key subduing messages as 'Keep The order', 'Report any anomaly in the nearest station.' It set perfectly with the gloomy, authoritarian and heavy atmosphere of this universe. Chaos brewing in the darkness, awaiting to be unleashed.
His gut felt queasy. He might not have spider senses, but intuition never failed him. And right now it was telling him to find you and get the fuck out as soon as possible. Precisely in that order. He didn't want to pull out a Miles, even if he wanted to on this wretched world. Frustrating as it was, Earth S-2015 was a necessary evil, like his ruler and his major minion.
Not that you were incapable of fending for yourself, one of the main reasons he didn't act right away, but knowing who was in this place, and the possibilities, made his chest constrict with a new wave of underlying anxiety and dread as there was no Spider in this earth to protect it.
His watch buzzed a bit too late with a new message from Lyla.
RUN!!!!
A hoard of drones shoot his way, creating a sequential line of explosions, he dodged, tore, and crashed the drones against eachother, as if they were bugs pestering him.
"Look! Another one!"
Some officers didn't wait to appear and shoot their best shots at him. They fired and Miguel fought back, talons in hands, ripping and tearing flesh.
They had taken you, and a cold sweat ran down his spine.
Mierda...
He took one officer by his neck, masked face came into view as his teeth bared.
"The other one, where is she?!" he seethed but the man was stupid enough to oppose. He thrashed, which only added gasoline to Miguel's already blazing fury. Talons dug in the man's tender flesh, but even so, the officer had managed to impale a needle on his arm. It's liquid immediately melting into Miguel's muscles.
It stung.
With a hiss, Miguel let the man go, too focused on the sudden burning sensation spreading through his arm and body like a wildfire. Breathings took a couple of seconds to turn erratic, lights flickered and dances before his eyes.
Concéntrate, mierda! (Fucking focus)
The remaining officers jumped on him, using their subduing tools on him, an electrical shock here and there, a couple of stabs that had him kneeling, punches that definitely got all air out of his scorching lungs. It hurted to breath, to move, to see. His photophobia was rampant as lights were suddenly on him.
Miguel tried to cover his eyes but punches kept coming, he lunged and swung back to nothing but air, as his faculties were in a painful sensorial overload. The last thing he could manage in between blurry and prancing lights was the officer's wicked smile, stretching. Darkness claimed him.
----
"Me estás hartando, quédate quieta de una vez!" (I'm getting tired of this, stay still!)
The lack of exercising had made you slow, he didn't give you enough time to fight back when dragging you by the ankles while you were in the best of your nap. The alerts in your body kicked a bit too late, and like he had done before, his hips grounded yours, suffocating their squirming as his hand squeezed the wrists, needle menacing on his other hand, a pinkish liquid shook within.
"Fuck you!"
With a low growl he smashed your hands against the mattress, earning him a painful yelp, and it was his chance to sink the needle on your neck, a sting that immediately stifled your body, a brief itch spreaded through before turning into a cool shot of drug.
"Don't worry... We'll get to it later. But I need your body cooperating first."
You tried batting his hands away, but he held your face, and you gulped. He was staring.
Michael Stone was staring at you.
Thrill, joy, and something eldritch within his beautiful eyes. It scared as it intrigued you.
"What did you just put in me!?"
His nose nuzzled on the crook of your neck and crooned, "Nothing you should worry about, pequeña. Just a little enhance that will take my investigation to the next level."
His nose revelled up to your neck, body shuddering with the soft kisses left imprinted on your skin. It confused you.
One moment he treated you like the best thing he had ever had, and the next he manhandled you like a rag doll, pumping whatever substances he thought right into your bloodstream.
"Ger'off me!" A backlash and he chuckled.
"You're amusing. Might keep you as a pet once my child is born." He frowned suddenly, like if an idea had came into mind, pondering.
"Or not, I could grow it on my own... But, no no. It wouldn't be the same, wouldn't it?." His peering landed on your abdomen, ready to see it plump. "Call. me traditionalist in that way, but there is nothing more beautiful than seeing life growing within a perfect specimen." His eyes twinkled.
"You're a sick fuck, you know that?"
"You loved having this sick fuck inside, pequeña. Your mouth might be spilling nonsense, but your cunt" He cupped it suddenly, shutting you up right away, "neither data lies."
A thick lump was swallowed down your throat.
"Rest well, I've got a surprise for you."
The smirk on his lips was everything but a good omen. And the heat increasing on your body didn't help. Hormones were slowly coming to a riot, spider tingle ringing harder for a moment.
Great.
Fingers rubbed on where he sunk the needle, wishing that for once he wouldn't use the thick ones. A tiny red smudge came into the pad of your fingertip.
Asshole.
----
Disgust, curiosity and repulsion.
Those were the main reads on Miguel's bruised face when Michael was before him, having a taste of his lips, but quickly backed up upon feeling the prong of his fangs grazing at his tongue. Miguel spat away his taste.
"Vete a la mierda, cabrón!" (Fuck you, asshole)
"Oh" His smirk went wider, almost wicked. He wasted no time in securing his grip on Miguel's chin to probe and poke at his mouth, revelling at every single thing within his structure.
"This is... perfect! With you and my vessel, we'll create-"
Michael jumped backwards as Miguel tried to lunge for him, but to no avail, chains clinked on his feet and wrists, restraining him.
"Now, now. What happened to that... friendly neighborhood thing your species used to preach? Is it a ruse?"
Miguel's fury burned brighter than the sun, he was ablaze, the Ethyl Chloride still railed within his bloodstream. He'd have to wait a bit more, just a bit for it's effects to leave his system and he'd free himself.
Never in his life had the urge of hurting someone came so strong on him, but he needed to be as collected as possible if he wanted to find you.
Even if his evil twin's hand roamed over his chest, measuring and probing his physiology. What's with everyone trying to get a piece of him?
His sight landed on something that undeniably belonged to you, a piece of your suit, under a microscope. Michael followed Miguel's line of sight and smiled, naturally, proud even.
"She's been a good specimen. The best one I've got so far."
A cold shudder ran down Miguel's back, eyes immediately on him, venom dripping in his words as they came out in a growl
"What have you done?"
Michael shrugged nonchalant, pride swelling up his chest. "Nothing but my work, Mr. O'Hara. And now that I've got you, you'll help me too."
"Te juro que si has hecho algo para lastimarla-" (I swear if you've done something to hurt her)
"Oh no, no. Im not that kind of monster." Michael tinkered with some tubes as he pulled a couple strands off Miguel's head. The Boss shook his head away from his tweezers.
"But she can get annoying sometimes. Nothing that pleasure helps to shut her up"
Miguel's eyes went wide, horror and anger in tandem within his crimson gaze.
His talons poked out, itching to tear the man before him, until he was nothing but bloody chum, fuck the canon, fuck this dimension. He'd do everyone a favor, unlike the first time he broke the rules.
"But dread not. Tonight is very special" Michael smiled at Miguel, but it didn't reached his eyes. The same pink liquid he injected on you was now flowing in Miguel's veins, thanks to thw needles in his shackles.
"Mating season is around the corner , isn't it?"
Miguel scowled, wary as Michael made his arms and legs restricted to the metallic wall of his confinement, hitting his head in the process. A wave of pain invaded Miguel's skull.
"I won't hurt her, no. But I won't allow you to take her away from me."
Michael pressed a button, sending shockwaves through Miguel's body, suit glitching out, until it disappeared, leaving a bare, righteous doppelganger of himself at his feet, panting, gritting his teeth and growling in pain.
Michael leered at Miguel unabashedly, smoke oozed from his shimmery tan skin, and the madman nodded, pleased.
"You spider-folk are unique and wonderful creatures indeed."
It was the last thing Miguel heard before another electrical and unexpected shock subdued him to darkness.
----
Miguel
His mind was a puddle. Nothing coherent could properly take shape in his brain. His body was heavy, doused in a borderline painful heat, the same sort of feeling he'd get once his body entered this spider-like urge to mate.
Miguel!
The voice calling him was familiar, but it's tinge sent a delicious pulsation right to the tip of his already twitching cock.
Wake up!
Leaden-lids parted enough to take in his surroundings again, consciousness returning to his empty body. But as it did, the strong tidal waves of his arousal drowned him in.
It didn't help he kept hearing these delicious mewls and pants, begging for him to do something simple as to wake up. The constant slaps of flesh and the breathless moans made a trail of precum escape his flushed and sensitive tip. Thick veins decored his pulsating girth, aching painfully to sink in something. To be wrapped in nothing but snug zeal.
"F-Fuck... Wake up, please!"
Another garbled moan that ended in an acute whimper. And that made him growl. His toes curled in, bleary sight finally taking focus on what was going on.
He could only blink at the scene. Stupid and high in need. Dying to be free and unleash himself.
"Ohmygod-" you hiccuped, watching him, flushed cheeks, mouth gaping and panting, exhaling deep and sweet mewls his body yearned to induce
"Miguel!"
You called, waking him up despite your insides getting a good rearrangement by Michael. The latter was too keen in watching his reaction as he smacked himself against you, his cheeks reddened in want.
You were spreaded like a book ontop of the sitting madman, back colliding with his bare chest, hands cuffed within two metallic hoops, hooked behind Michael's head; cunt swallowing him inside, choking with his continuous thrustings, slapping the back of your ass over and over as his hands kept your thighs apart and close to your chest, providing Miguel with a 4K image of your bullied and glistening pussy.
The way Michael pushed in so swiftly made Miguel's cock to erupt with another pre cum bead. Your breast swayed and bounced at the rough pace settled underneath. A rhythmic slap, like a perfect metronome for an obscene and wet melody.
The little rational part of Miguel told him, demanded him to look away. To spare you some shame, but his body had been rewired in such way he was unable to tear his oggling away, cause he could feel the need to break the chains and do a better job than Michael. He'd destroy you. He needed to.
Michael's hands made you hold the back of your own thighs, so he could plow deeper. And your spine arched as your toes curled, legs shook and a sweet acute cry echoed through the lab, announcing your first orgasm.
Miguel's sore cock twitched. Begging him to jump into action. His mouth watered as your pussy swallowed Michael's cock so deep and tight that a frothy, creamy ring nested at the base of his tightened balls, contracting as the madman came inside your snug hole.
Your arousal awakened a primal need in him, to the point that his talons dug in the fat of his palm, cutting skin and bleeding, like his bottom lip. Plump mouth heaved, his throat rumbled with gutural growls the more he stared, hypnotized at your post-bliss face.
Miguel whimpered, like a kicked dog, a deep flush invading his heaving countenance.
"Seems the serum is also making effect"
Michael slicked his hair back and gave an excited sigh, "I think it's time to see his performance, right?"
Michael pushed you away from his body, Bambi-like legs failed their attempt to hold your whole frame. You fell on the ground with a wheeze. Miguel immediately lunged, but his restrains held him back, prevented him from achieving his main goal.
Crimson eyes turned darker, nearly matching Michael's. The latter pressed a button and the collar on Miguel fell with a clank on the floor.
"M-Miguel" it was difficult to find your voice when it was scrapped raw and dry, but still, you had to try.
"We... we gotta leave. Do you hear me?"
Of course he did, but his mating cycle was on peak, thanks to Michael. He had messed up the natural process by accelerating his heat prematurely.
Why would he leave when he was about to wreck you?
His feet were unlocked. You gave Michael a pleading look while trying to crawl away. When the last lock clicked free, your breath hitched.
It felt like a slow motion as you looked over your shoulders, marked with hickeys Michael left. Pupils wide blown as Miguel lurched forward, stalking and hovering over you. Cock smearing his pre cum in whatever skin it landed, marking you with his scent as he manhandled your hips up, aligning them with his girth.
His hand was big enough to keep your whole head on the floor. Michael cackled as Miguel sunk in deep in a powerful roll of his hips, earning a stuttering grunt through clenched teeth from you.
The fat of your ass trembled, your clasped hands curled underneath your torso, in dire need of holding onto something, cause Miguel merciless plows were fucking any coherent thought.
Your whole body shook underneath him, cunt ever tight, your juices and Michael's cum made him easier to delve in a pace you knew would scrap your knees, cause he wasn't stopping nor waning.
Michael circled you both, hand on his cock, stroking himself at the sheer display of primal desire. The whole show made him hard, specially when seeing your engorged clit peeking underneath Miguel's jackhammering frame, flushed from the unceasing beating the hero's balls provided it.
"Just like that" Michael husked, and whimpered as you did nothing but sputter nonsensical and lewd blabbering.
Miguel's fingertips sunk tighter as they grope your hips firmly to keep you from lurching forward, despite him plunging into you with abandonment, as if with every thrust he'd say take it.
Take it for disobeying.
Your toes curled in and your jaw slacked open, unable to keep it together.
Take it for not following instructions.
"M... Mig-"
Bendito... He was just starting and you were already clamping onto him in a grip so tight it only matched the way he was holding your beautiful and generous hips.
"You're almost there, Mr. O'Hara! Keep it going!"
One specific thrust had your eyes watering and rolling back. A pathetic and incomplete scream made Michael to kneel behind you both. His eyes were too dazed in how Miguel fucked you. Dancing up and down, like the strokes of his hands on his cock.
Miguel secured your head in a tight headlock that cut your air supply enough to clench on him, again. Strong biceps trapped your airy head, clouded with a biting desire that came stronger every time you breathed.
Michael groaned when Miguel pulled a last thrust, sheathing to the hilt, forcing a powerful and milky kiss on your cervix. The madman's mouth wasted no time to sink in between Miguel's firm glutes, tasting him, squeezing and pushing him towards his face, tongue fucking the tight hole, earning a low but stuttering growl from a surprised Miguel. Glasses fogging at the rising temperature.
"Fucking delicious." He mumbled with a smack of his lips to focus his attention in your flushed and sensitive cunt. When Miguel pulled out, Michael was already pushing him away, to then prowl at your throbbing cunt, gathering the leaking cum on his tongue, revelling in the taste as he pushed it back inside with a soft dribble.
"W-Wait" You hissed, his moist muscle had been wonderful once, but right now it felt rough. Flesh too sensitive to the touch.
Miguel staggered, body overridden with a relentless urge to be inside you again, but his body screamed for a rest, the venom still lingered on his muscles. Michael on the other hand, cradled and sunk you once more ontop of him.
"The more you take, the more chances you'll get pregnant are." He explained underneath you. Tears rolled down your flustered cheeks, overstimulated and pearled, glowy skin by the thin layer of sweat etched in every slope and dint in your body.
Michael licked them with a groan while his hips smacked yours in a slow but deep, deep rut, pulling the last coherent thoughts through muffled groans and hiccuping mewls, while you shook your head vehemently.
"You're so perfect, pequeña"
"T-Too much" you croaked
Michael sunk you in a swift move, as his slapping hips met yours upwards, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.
"No, no. you can. You're strong, bonita. You can take me." His crooning was eerie, yet so alluring it blurred the line between monster and devotee.
Pleasure clung to your brain with such force it was dizzying. Every pore of your body oozed with the pheromones the serum produced, creating a tantalizing smell that lured Michael and Miguel's attention.
The grumpy hero could only watch you squirm as another cock that wasn't his, wrecked your insides in a tortuous pace.
"Fuck" He grunted, feeling the consuming and mind numbing drug licking at every inch of his cinnamon skin, imploring to feel you again.
Even though the Ethyl Chloride's effect had been long gone, the serum reacted to your pheromones. Meaning he'd need to provoke one more peak to have the effects completely worn out.
He'd feel sorry and awful all he wanted later, his priority was to get you out of this madman's claws. But...
It was impossible not to think in how good you felt, how delicious your whole body contorted while witnessing the way Michael subdued you to ride him as he captured one of your nipples in his urgent mouth. Lovely and plump bumps of flesh jiggled at the tempo, outer folds that without a doubt would be so sensitive to the touch, parted and guzzled Michael's veiny cock.
Miguel crawled to you both.
How well you had taken them each., Adjusting perfectly at their sizes, like a perfect flesh sleeve.
He hovered over the both and smoothed away the strands of hair that stuck on your flushed and gorgeously fucked out face.
The heat was consuming, and Michael's pace wasn't enough. The madman noted you were reaching the peak of the serum functionality as you urged your wobbly hips clumsily on his.
Despite you not being able to properly verbalise your pleasure, you still sought it. Michael's wicked fantasies came true when Miguel pushed you tighter against him, as if wanting to flush your body and Michael's as one being, just to have a proper glimpse of the sight that had him guiding his tip towards your already stuffed entrance.
Detente (Stop)
But he couldn't, he couldn't stop himself from entering you, knees flexing as he lowered his pelvis, pushing inch my inch deeper. Earning an ascending pleasurable wail from you.
Your eyes widened and your jaw clenched, baring your teeth as he also sheathed inside, womb so full it bulged.
Michael's laugh echoed through the room. Everything had came as planned.
"Let's make you a wonderful mother, mi pequeña."
Oh my god.
A panting groan escaped as Michael moved in first, igniting the painfully delicious friction inside you. He wasn't only stimulating you, but Miguel as well. The snug crevice too tight for them to coexist in peace, yet there they were, fighting over who pulled the last peak and thread of rationality out of you.
Their cocks pumping and prodding had your spine arching. Miguel grabbed a fistful of your front strands and pulled backwards, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, letting your chest exposed to Michael. He wasted no time into pushing both of your breasts together, tongue alternating between the left and right.
Sucking, lapping, wriggling his hot muscle on your taut peaks, making a mess out of them by creating more hickeys in every inch of salty tasting visible skin.
"Michael!" You whimpered and it was enough for Miguel to plow harder. The sinful makeout session of their cocks inside your walls made you pant, beg and laugh like a total loon.
A streak of saliva escaped the corner of your gaping mouth. Head lolled back and fro, fried brain with the lust both men induced you, floating on cloud nine. You didn't want to come down to earth, much less when Miguel and Michael's groans and moans over you, urged you to be the best cum dumpster ever.
Miguel pulled your handcuffed hands underneath your chin, beckoning your lips to his. His mouth suffocated any future moan as you bounced on both.
Your one and only boss didn't need you wailing his name to know you ached for him. But Michael was set into having a proper taste out of you both.
He pulled you closer, pushing deeper inside you. Michael's lips erased all trace of Miguel's on yours, to then kiss Miguel. To his surprise, Miguel didn't oppose, too gone in the sensations this mass of tangled limbs offered.
Michael hands roamed your body and Miguel's, feeling his own climax approach.
Hearing Miguel's animalistic growls on your ear, made your clit throb. He pounded with every fiber of his body, urging you to reach the stars and play with them.
Your cunt soaked them, too wrecked and ruined to care. Like your mind. It didn't matter who fucked better, all your body asked was fresh cum, deep in your womb.
The serum coaxed you to move faster, almost matching the rhythm of their whomps. The sound of your greedy and drooling hole being battered was music to their ears.
Michael whimpered and his spine arched, finally reaching his peak, spurting his hot sticky scent inside. Miguel hissed and held Michael close, watching him.
Limbs nearly cramped as they curled in, hands fisted tightly on each side of his trembling body, eyes rolled back, mouth panting, head too heavy to think straight. And that's when Miguel sunk his fangs on his neck, injecting his paralyzing venom on his bloodstream.
A pornographic and slurred moan erupted from Michael, his wicked smirk widened as his body slowly but surely, lost all control of his nerves, unable to command them to move.
Miguel had to resist the urge to come inside. He knew he had a couple of minutes before Michael regained mobility, and as heavenly as you felt, he pulled out of you, drowning his orgasm with regained self control, earning a small hissing as he pulled you out too, gently, off Michael.
Legs and body refused to cooperate. With clumsy steps he stood, taunting the surfaces for support. He slanted against the table, gasping for air.
Miguel shook his head and threw a quick look to Michael, still on the floor, but now groaning in discomfort. Even his tongue had numbed out.
Miguel didn't waste time and sauntered over the next table where pieces of his gizmo laid neatly arranged in a metallic tray. He swept them all in a container, along the tubes filled with his samples.
Like Hobie, he took other parts of machinery in a quickened pace to finally grab a couple of lab robes. He wore one and covered your overworked body, to then throw you above his shoulder.
"Nos vamos." (We're leaving)
Michael groaned, loudly. Anger was felt in every gurgle his throat did. Despair widened in the only thing that still remained movable in his numb face. They darted between you and Miguel, begging him to leave you there.
He groaned again, losing sight once Miguel swung with you from a window.
"Hold on tight if you can" Miguel's voice cooed as you two escaped.
-----
Michael had to douse some pain killer spray on the two slits done in his neck.
How could he not forsee this? How could he miss something so obvious that ended up messing his one decade old plan?
He let his emotion get the best out of him, fouling up his usual calculating judgment, replacing it with excitement.
A Public Eye squad remained before him, awaiting for his orders.
"Find them. I need the woman alive, understood?"
"What about the... other one? The monster?" The same officer Miguel had sliced through and marked, spoke.
The lights in the screen gave Michael a sinister red hue on his face, light reflecting on his glasses.
"He's not a monster, Johnson." Dr. Stone smirked, copying your information in his database, "There can't be two of us."
Johnson, the captain, nodded. The squad obeyed, and the hunt was on.
-
Taglist: (I apologize if your blog isn't able to be tagged, tumblr is... tumblr)
@smokeywhalee @maomaimao @beingdeluluisthesolulu @byjessicalotufo @darkfairy102190 @angel-of-the-moons @bunnibitez @decaffeinatedplaidwinnersoul
@thealleydog @sariespi @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @barryatsumu @missylo @fistsuptitsup @lazy-idate @crimsonriot06-7 @uraritychain @little-lovelace @llama--drama @deathlypickles @cupidojenphrodite @@nostalgicdaira @homewreckingwreck @millliko @tatatida @melday0105 @scaryplanetdestroyer @minispidey @miranexx @migueloharacumslut @keepghostly @ion-news @misswonderfrojustice @kishimiest @prctty-birdie @migueloharacumslut @the-true-tato-god @1biggestsimpofalltime @catfwngz @drefear
#t writes✨#Michael Stone#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara smut#miguel ohara#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel spiderman
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Noteworthy details about the first two PJOTV episodes (spoilers)
First of all, every single of them ATE DOWN. just wanted to throw that out there, i'm so so impressed with the cast, everyone was perfect and gorgeous and i'm completely sat for any and all future installments. A fine piece of media. Let's begin.
Percy's confusion and bewilderment finding out that he's a demigod. "You fell in love with God.... like, Jesus????" LMFAO but seriously his frustration in this moment, thinking there's something actually wrong with his brain, feeling lost and confused and hurt and BROKEN. the struggle in that moment is so relatable to people discovering they have some sort of mental illness or neurodivergence, especially when they weren't believed/listened to etc and i think walker played this part beautifully
GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TOGETHER. GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TO TRAIN PERCY. I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING OFF ROOFTOPS THE IMPLICATIONS THAT THIS HAS???? ARE YOU ACTUALLY JOKING??????? IMAGINE SEASON 3 PERCY FINDS NICO AND THEY HAVE THIS IN COMMON???????????!?!?!?!?!? FEELING SEVERELY FRANTIC AND MASSIVELY UNWELL ABOUT THIS
luke's empathy towards Percy throughout-- his apologies for what happened to his mother at the bottom of Half Blood Hill, him telling P that he relates to the nightmares, the restlessness, the ADHD..... so fucking sick and fucking twisted, I will be sobbing at the ending, gorgeous job on both ends on making this relationship feel very warm and authentic and the trust starting to build. this will H U R T.
CLARISSE. she's so gorgeous and vindictive. Her beauty took me off guard initially, but she's such a spiteful little badass that I completely fell in love with her. I CANNOT WAIT to see more of her characterization, especially into season two. perfection.
Percy burning the blue jelly beans- the thing he'd miss most- out in the middle of the woods at night in a damn can, just to pray to his MOTHER. *sobbing intensifies* i couldn't ask for a more sweet, heartfelt, honest moment. the perfect addition. 10s across the board
Percy's ANGER. OH BOY this was one of my most favorite parts. I feel like we see Percy as a very happy-go-lucky kid altogether but I loved, LOVED to see his frustration and agitation from the very beginning. Everything is so confusing and foreign and all he knows is that 1. he's been betrayed or left behind by everyone he knows and 2. he's been ignored his whole life by his godly parent. His mission is to MAKE HIS DAD SEE PERCY, at ANY COST. Before he even knows who his dad is. He is entitled to feel ALL of this anger and hurt and resentment!!!!!!!
Annabeth calling Percy "sunshine". TOTAL CULTURAL RESET. I gasped. The dawn of a new age of Percabeth. I will be screaming into my pillow about this for the foreseeable future.
The entire characterization of Percy throughout the capture the flag scene. His contrast of being just a kid- flossing (lol), peeing the woods, petting a gecko, just vibing and hanging out VS. being thrown suddenly into attack from his peers that don't care about the rules, surprising himself and everyone around him with his finesse in battle, quick instincts, swordsmanship..... i'm weak fr. I can't wait to see him grow, train, become stronger and more confident.
Overall, I'm entirely floored and beyond happy. I can't wait to see more. 10/10
#percy jackson#pjotv#pjotv spoilers#percy jackson spoilers#percabeth#walker scobell#annabeth chase#leah sava jeffries#grover underwood#clarisse la rue#luke castellan#brain so rotted its unspeakable#good lord#THE ADAPATION WE DESERVE#please dm me if u want to talk more im foaming at the damn mouth
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Say something (I'm giving up on you)
Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Summary: Your husband tells you the truth about Vegas, and it makes your perfect sandcastle crumble.
Word count: 6k
Tags: Female reader, established relationship, wife reader, reader is an architect, cheating, smut, mild somnophilia, mentions of pregnancy and children, very very angsty, no hea, not beta read
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Notes: To be honest, this is very personal and something I needed to get off my chest before going back to my WIPs lol. Sorry if it's rushed or something, I was just going with the flow. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
Find me on Twitter!
Ending 1: moving on
Ending 2: forgiving
Ending 3: a secret third thing (blurb)
As soon as you got out of the shower, a robe on your body and a towel around your head, you noticed how Lewis was sitting there, looking somewhat defeated.
“Hey, I know this season wasn’t what you expected but I’m sure it will get better,” you muttered, noticing how he was down, you stood between his legs, holding his head, pushing his braids away from his face, “I’m hoping you’ll have a great car next year. I’ll put the kettle on, so we can drink a little tea.”
He didn’t answer as you pecked his lips and went downstairs. You had just turned the kettle on when Lewis came down too, stopping in the middle of the kitchen.
“I need to tell you something,” he started and you paused, waiting, “something happened in Vegas.”
You felt your heart accelerate, you didn’t like that tone, so instead of asking more, you just waited, holding your breath.
“I cheated.”
It’s like you were punched in the gut, and you gasped for air. Your eyes immediately teared up, but you held in, waiting for his next words. You held yourself up with both hands on the kitchen island, because your legs felt like they might just give in. You stared at him, numb. Waiting for it to be some sick and unfunny joke, but the guilt in his eyes was so real.
“It happened in Vegas, and it didn’t mean anything at all, and I’m so so sorry, I know I should never have done it, and I regret it. I love you so much, I never wanted to hurt you, please believe me, I’ll do anything for your forgiveness, whatever you want just say th-”
At that point you stopped listening, looking down at your hand sprawled on the countertop, the wedding band and the engagement ring you wore on top of it felt like they were burning, like a curse just about to ruin your perfect life.
Like a beautiful sandcastle crumbling under a big wave, your perfect life came crashing down, with a couple of words and one single decision that never came from you. Your plans, your dreams, your future that always had Lewis beside you now were turning to dust. And it hurt like fucking hell, like you were under the wreckage, something heavy compressing your chest leaving you to die an agonizing death.
Lewis walked up to you, trying to take your hand but you moved out of his reach, taking a step back.
“Please, just say something. Anything. Please, love. Scream at me, hit me, key my car, anything. Please, say something,” He begged you, and all you could feel was pain, a knot in your stomach as you walked away, numbly going back to your room, locking the door behind you because you could hear him coming after you.
You held your head, this feeling of despair gnawing your insides, and you pulled the wedding band and engagement ring out, leaving it at the bedside table. Your tears came down and you looked at the bed were you had made love on the night before, were you had fucked his brains out just because you wanted him to feel better, after being upset with how the season ended. He hid this information for more than a week, because you had been in Abu Dhabi with him for moral support. Crying, you pull off the bed sheets, leaving them on the floor when the knot in your stomach makes you too nauseous. Running to the bathroom, you puke your disgust away, crying and dry heaving after there was nothing left in your stomach.
You were going to leave your job next year because you two were planning to try for kids. You were going to dedicate yourself to finally writing your book. You were going to join him the whole season, to never leave his side, to go wherever he went. You were going to buy a place in his hometown too, to be close to his family whenever you two had the time. You had planned to have a baby in England, because of Lewis.
How after five years together, after two years of marriage you had crafted your life around his. How you’d drop everything to make him happy, because his happiness made you happy. He knew cheating was your only and strongest dealbreaker, you had told him countless times during your relationship, you had reminded him before the wedding too, and he had said he would never be interested in anyone else.
You pulled a towel from under the sink and sobbed into it. You could still hear his voice outside, muffled by the door. Going back to bed, you put your wedding band back again, staring at it as a token of your happiest years.
You cried yourself to sleep.
The next morning you woke up and did your morning routine in pain. It was like you had to live feeling the pulsating pain of a broken bone. As you opened the door, Lewis was sleeping on the hallway floor by the door. Avoiding him, you went to the kitchen, but you didn’t have the energy to cook anything, so you grabbed the key of one of his cars and left for a coffee shop.
Everything felt like an out of body experience, like you were in automatic mode, going with the flow, buying a muffin and a tea because that’s what you did every time. Greeting the waitress with a small smile, like always. The only difference was going back to the car instead of eating inside the cafe, and eating there, pushing food inside so you could have some resemblance of normalcy. Your phone had been ringing for the past thirty minutes non stop, the ringtone you had put specifically for him, the song you had your first dance in your wedding. You think about that Lewis, that man who would never do anything that could hurt you. The one with dreams and promises, the man who would say he wanted kids with you, the one who always had a description of the kids you would have. She’ll have your eyes and my hair, he would say, daydreaming, hopefully she’ll have your beautiful smile, Lew, you would add.
Driving around for a while, your phone on Do not disturb, you watched the streets of Monaco, bustling with people, locals and tourists, walking around, going to boutiques and cafés, and you noticed how Monaco had never been your first choice to live in. You would rather a place a little bit colder, with lots of libraries and historical places, with mountains and lakes.
You went back home hours later, and as soon as you got inside, you were faced with Lewis, pale and visibly worried, phone in hand.
“Oh my god, I was so worried! I thought- I thought you had left me- Where were you?”
“Driving” you kicked your shoes and went to the kitchen to drink water. After downing two full glasses, you went outside, sitting by the view of the city.
You painfully loved him, the kind of love you once were happy to let yourself dive in, and now you were drowning.
“Please, can we talk about it?” He asked, by the balcony door as if he were afraid to scare you away like a skittish animal. You nodded, and he carefully sat on the chair beside you. “Can we work on it? Do you think you may have it in your heart to forgive me?”
“I don’t know, Lewis, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”
“We can do marriage counseling, we can do anything you want, we can- we can move, buy another place, we can adopt a kitten, like you’ve always wanted, or we can renew our vows, I can gi-give you a pass, so we’ll be even-”
“I honestly don’t know how to fix this, Lewis. I’m not sure it’s even fixable.”
You two stared into the horizon, lost in thoughts.
“Give me a chance, and I’ll fix it, love. I’ll do everything in my power to fix it.”
“Tell me what happened,” you commanded, not looking at him.
“Love, please, don’t do this.”
“You want to fix this, right? Then start by telling me the whole truth.”
And he did. He told you who was, Kate-something, an influencer who had been a fling of his from the past, before you. They had met unexpectedly during the Vegas Grand Prix, she had been invited by some other team. He told you almost everything, leaving out details about the sex, but he told you everything else, and you listened, unmoved, only the tears falling down nonstop.
The next couple of days consisted of Lewis buying you things, food, jewelry, clothes and planning a trip for after the holidays. You slept in your room, and Lewis slept in the guest room, giving you space, to whenever you were comfortable to share a bed with him again. You had every meal together, sometimes he cooked, sometimes he had it delivered. You tried to engage in conversation, but in the end, Lewis was doing most of the talking. Chatting about news of his friends, about his team, about the plans for the trip.
As you sat in the office, you opened a drawer and picked up your resignation letter. You had left it written to hand it when you got back from the holidays. The letter was brief, thanking everyone for the opportunity to work at their company, thanking your boss for all the lessons and explaining you were leaving to become a homemaker. You scoffed at it now, ripping the letter in half and throwing it in the trash.
Maybe you needed to take a step back from everything. The plans and the dreams and the future. Maybe you just needed to give him a chance, you loved him so much, and this kind of love doesn’t go away with a snap of the fingers.
Maybe he was right and if you two started all over, maybe you could fix this.
“I know it might be too soon, but would you consider going on a date? Just like the old times,” he asked one morning a few days later, as you ate breakfast.
“Sure, Lewis.”
He nodded, and you knew he was feeling the way you didn’t call him love or honey anymore. He planned a date that same night. You dressed up to the nines, just to feel some normalcy, just to feel like yourself again. You had dressed in a black long sleeved dress, with some transparency in the sleeves, a black scarpin and you tied your hair in an elegant high ponytail and those bright red lipsticks Lewis liked.
He looked at you in wonder as you came down the stairs.
“You look stunning, my love.” He whispered, taking your hand and making you spin. You felt that spark in your stomach again, well, a little bit of that.
He took you to a two star restaurant, one you’d always go on date nights. He also drove you there in your favorite Mercedes. You decided to put in the effort, to make conversation, to engage with him the whole night. You ate, talked, laughed and drank a couple of wine glasses.
By the end of the night, you had felt a resemblance of normalcy again. When Lewis was picking the tab, you went to the toilet, and you saw a woman trying to change a baby’s diaper. She dropped the box of wet wipes, and you bent down to pick it.
“Thank you, lovely!” She said as you handed it back. You peeked at the baby, a little girl who couldn’t be older than a year.
“Hi there, princess!” You said with a baby voice.
“Can you keep an eye on her just as I pee quickly, I’m sorry to bother,” the mother asked.
“Don’t worry,” you said, carrying the baby she had just finished changing. As the woman entered the stall, you decided to ask, “How has it been, being a mom?”
“Oh, it’s amazing. Of course it’s not easy, but my husband has been a great help around the house and the baby. I couldn’t be happier!”
You looked to the mirror, the baby in your arms, and you imagined living this with Lewis. And you just couldn’t. Because he wouldn’t be there all the time anyway. He would be traveling the world, racing for his championship, you would follow him, but at some point you would have to stop, you would have to settle home the last trimester, and he wouldn’t be there. Would he miss your baby’s birth?
You wondered if he would cheat again when you weren’t there.
As you left the toilet, your mood had dwindled again.
Lewis noticed as you were quiet going home, head against the window, watching the city and mumbling the song playing in the car.
As you arrived home, you pushed Lewis against the sofa, he looked confused, but his eyes followed your hands as you pulled your dress up, bunching it around your hips so you could straddle his lap.
“Baby, I don’t think w-” he started talking, but you held his chin.
“Shut the fuck up,” you said, pressing your lips against his.
You kissed him like you were starved, showing him how much you missed him, how much you loved him. He let you guide the kiss, opening your mouth and entangling your tongues, your hips grinding on him. He whispered nonsense as he kissed your face and neck, I missed you so much, love, nibbling at your neck, I love you my baby, pulling your dress down to free your tits, sucking on your nipples, missed this, baby, you’re so fucking sexy, you ground on him, moving and moaning as his hand held your ass, guiding your movements. You were so wet, you missed his touch so much.
As you looked down, seeing his lips latched onto your nipple, your mind drifted, wondering if he touched the other woman like this, if he talked dirty to her like that.
And you were immediately turned off.
“Stop, stop,” you pushed him and he let you go easily, scrambling to the sofa and away from his lap, “red, red!” You shouted your safe word.
Breathless, Lewis nodded, as you quickly pulled the cups of your dress up, covering your boobs and pulled your dress down, eyes watering. He stared at you, confused and not knowing how to act. You two were very creative in the bedroom, but you only used the safe word a few times whenever you two were in the mood for some BDSM scenes, you had never used your safe word in a normal setting.
“Are you ok?” He asked, finally and you just shook your head.
“Was she better than me?” You asked, voice small and vulnerable.
“What? Baby, no, never! You’re my everything.” He sat by your side, but you stood up in wobbly legs, nervous.
You wanted to ask why, if you were enough, if you were everything, then why he felt the need to do it. Why would he throw away so many years, such a beautiful love story that you used to joke you would tell your grandkids about.
You started walking away, but Lewis ran up to you and blocked your path.
“Please, let’s talk it out,” He asked, eyes pleading. You stared at his lips, and something inside you just snapped.
“I don’t want to talk! FUCK!” You pushed past him, “I look at you and I can only picture you with her! I feel your hands on my body and I hate it because I can only think of you touching her, and kissing her and fucking making love to her! Look at us! Look at everything you ruined because you just couldn’t not get your dick wet! Because you couldn’t wait five fucking days for me!”
You tried not to sob, running a hand over your face.
“And you were perfect and I love you, and I hate myself for loving you because I don’t trust you! I keep thinking that if one day I miss the flight to your race, will you cheat again? If- if I have to work and you suddenly feel lonely, will you cheat again? If we fight for some reason, will you cheat again?”
“We can fix this, we go to counseling or-
“FIX WHAT? I didn’t break anything! Because I love you so much that the idea of lying with another man disgusts me! You broke my heart, our home and our future!”
He was crying too when you looked at him.
You took the keys to his car and slipped away, driving around, trying to clear your head. Deep down you wished you could forgive and forget, you wished you could get over that mistake, but now everything around the house reminds you of his mistake.
You lost control of the car and crashed against a tree. It wasn’t a big crash, even though the hood of the car looked totalled. You called someone to take the destroyed car away, and you took an Uber to the hospital, just to make sure you didn’t hit your head too hard. In the hospital, they put a bandaid on the small cut and you held an ice pack above the swelling in the side of your forehead, they also gave you a few pills for the pain and possible headache.
You went back home hours later, and Lewis was waiting by the living room.
“Where were-” he stopped short, seeing the small cut on your forehead, “oh, god, what happened?”
“I crashed your car, I’m sorry. It wasn’t a big deal, I’m ok,” you walked into the kitchen to take one of the pills for the incoming headache.
“What? Why didn’t you call me?” Lewis followed you.
“It wasn’t a big deal,” you repeated calmly.
“Are you kidding me? You’re bleeding!”
“I’m not, it was just a small piece of glass that grated my forehead, but I’m ok, it doesn’t really hurt,” you muttered, wanting to go to sleep, “I’m sorry about your car, I’ll pay to get it fixed.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the car! I’m worried about you!” He came closer, holding your face with both hands, looking around for any more injuries.
You stared at his face, his eyes that had been such a source of happiness and unconditional love were now painful to see. Handsome still, but you couldn’t see him as yours anymore. You took his hands off you gently.
“I’m ok. I’ll pay for your car.” You reinforced, taking a step back.
“Our car, love. You’re my wife. And you don’t have to pay for it.” He corrected you, but you couldn’t feel anything.
Because the car was his. All the cars were his. The house was his, too. The dog was his. The properties. Everything belonged to him. You belonged to him the whole time. And now you just didn’t anymore.
You had signed a prenup before the wedding, which had been an idea that came from Lewis’ lawyer. Your husband had been angrily against it, but you didn’t mind signing it, because it was never about the money. Even upset signing the prenup, Lewis still took all of your expenses, bills, house and cars, and everything else. There was a cheating clause on that document, one you never bothered to read or memorize because cheating was never on your mind.
A couple of days later you had barely said a word to him, and you were having breakfast when he approached you.
“I’ll call mum later, to tell her we’re not going to her birthday dinner,” Lewis informed you.
“No, we’re going. We’re not going to spoil her celebration because of our problems,” you shook your head.
So you went to dinner at his mom’s. Everyone was there and you brought her a gold necklace with a peony pendant, since it was her favorite flower. You and Lewis tried to pretend nothing was wrong as to not ruin the mood of the night. You still sat by his side, ate and talked with everyone. Lewis knew you were faking being ok, because your smiles didn’t reach your eyes anymore, and every time he tried any physical touch like holding hands, putting a hand on your shoulder or pulling you to his lap, your body would tense up, so he would let go of you.
By then end of the night, you were pretty sure everyone had believed your act, but when Carmen asked for help with taking her presents upstairs, you knew she knew too.
“What is going on, love? You’re not your usual self today.”
You felt your eyes filling up and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You adored Carmen, you adored Lewis’ family, his siblings, his parents and his nephews and nieces. But Carmen had become a second mum to you from the beginning, being the first person to welcome you with open arms.
“Talk to me, dear,” she asked and the kindness in her voice made you cry even more, sobbing so much she had to hug you holding you tight.
“This is probably the last time we’ll see each other as family, Carmen,” you warned her, and her face crumbled just like yours did.
“No… No, honey, what happened?” She asked, and you shook your head.
“You talk to him later, and I’m sure he will tell you whenever he’s ready,” you muttered, not wanting to meddle in a mother-son relationship, not wanting to poison it. You pulled the engagement ring from your finger, the beautiful engraved jewel, that had belonged to Carmen's family for generations, had ended up with you, and you had expected to pass it down to a kid you’d have with Lewis. You gave the ring back to her.
“For when he finds the one.”
“No, you’re the one for him, honey,” she exclaimed, teary eyed.
“I wish I was, but I’m not,” you stared longingly at the ring sitting on the palm of her hand.
“One day he will need it again, and he will find someone and you’ll love her just as much. I’ll be just the distant past, but I hope you save a little space in your heart for me, yeah?” You laughed a little bit, wiping the tears on your cheeks. She only nodded, her own tears falling down. “Thank you for taking me in all these years, for embracing me into your family, I’m very grateful for that.”
You two cried a little more, and you tried to mask your crying face after a few minutes in the bathroom.
In the end, unfortunately, Lewis' family convinced you to stay the night since it would be a long drive back to Lewis’ place in London. You ended up sharing a bed for the first time since he admitted to cheating. You laid there with your back turned to him in the dark.
You couldn’t sleep for a couple of hours, but he did. When you turned back around, you stared at his beautiful face. Your dreamy, handsome husband. You softly traced imaginary lines in his face, tracing his eyebrows and nose, the tip of your finger running over his lips and cupids’ bow. How could you love someone so deeply and still not want to be with them? How could you not just put everything behind?
He knew you so well, he knew of you past of being cheated on, of going through abusive relationships. He knew where you draw the lines. He knew your limitations and still went ahead with cheating on you.
You got up from the bed, you went to the small armchair, opening your iPad to try and watch a movie or something to help you sleep. But as you unlocked it, the tab open was the project you had made for the family home you and Lewis were going to build for when you had kids. The finished project hit you like a punch in the gut.
You went inside the bathroom and took a break. It was the middle of the night, and everyone was asleep, so you just sat on the closed toilet to try and calm down the aching pain in your chest. When you came back, Lewis was awake going through your iPad you had left unlocked.
“What’s- What’s this?”
“It’s the project for our home, I was going to gift it to you on your birthday,” you whispered, sitting by his side on the floor, your backs to the bed.
Lewis sniffled, and you didn’t look at his face because you didn’t want to see him cry. He kept looking at the project, going page after page, seeing all the details you had thoughtfully put there. He started crying even harder when he saw the nurseries you had designed. When he saw the tennis court, because you and him loved playing with his dad, and talked countless times about teaching your kids to play. When Lewis saw the big kitchen with the panel wall where you could place pictures and drawings and notes. When he saw the sunroom, with toys and your small library, and Lewis’ videogames. All the tidbits you and him had dreamed about during your five years relationship.
“We can’t let this all go, love” he said between soft cries.
“God, I hate metaphors,” you whispered, drying the tears that came down, “but we’re a broken mirror, Lewis. We can try and fix it, and glue all the pieces back together, but the cracks will still be there.”
“I don't know how I messed up this badly, I don’t even know why-” he set the iPad down, staring at his hands, “I’m so sorry, so so sorry.”
You only nodded, getting up. You went back to bed, laying under the covers.
“I know,” you whispered after a few minutes. He came back to bed too, laying beside you without touching you.
“The project is beautiful. I love it.” He muttered staring at the ceiling.
“I do too.”
When you left his mom’s house, with a tight goodbye hug with Carmen, Lewis had to go to Brackley for work and you went back to Monaco.
You thought you may have a chance to fix everything. But as the days he was away passed, you started to wonder if he went to England to really work. If he wasn’t going to meet someone, the Kate-something, or any other of his flings from the past. If he even was in Brackley as he said he was.
The trust was gone.
As if it wasn’t bad enough as it was, the lady, Kate-something texted you. You had no idea how she got your number, and the text read:
“Ask your husband what he did after the Las Vegas GP.”
You scoffed, thinking she was a little late for a shocking revelation. You screenshotted the text just in case and blocked her number after, without bothering to let Lewis know about it.
You were one foot out of the door already.
The dreaded day came when you met with a lawyer, a big shot famous lawyer who always worked with famous people when they wanted a low profile divorce. She was very respectful of all your wishes, though with the small fortune you were going to pay for her services, being polite and helpful was the least she could do. She drafted a divorce agreement following all your requirements, especially in regards to the prenup.
The next few days, you read and reread the divorce papers, leaving them in the locked drawer in your office.
When Lewis came back from the Mercedes factory, it was night and you were having a glass of wine by the balcony.
“Want a nightcap?” You offered your glass to him. He nodded, taking a sip off the half full glass, “how was work?”
He told you about all the work in the factory, going to dinner with his teammate and meeting with his boss. It was almost like before, for a few minutes it was just a regular day in your married life. Lewis helped you put everything away in the kitchen and you went upstairs.
When he was about to go into the guest room, you stopped him.
“Lewis,” you asked and he looked at you hopefully, “can you sleep with me tonight?”
“Whatever you want, love.”
So you settled in for sleep, both of you going through your nightly routine, and finally, laying in bed. You took the initiative to cuddle him, nose against his neck, inhaling his scent and your ear above his heart.
You slept great for the first time since you were in separate beds. But you woke up in the middle of the night. And the way the little lampshade by the bedside table lit up the side of his face, peacefully asleep, handsome and yours. Fully yours still.
You couldn’t help the small kiss on his chest, above his heart, the other kiss on his cheek, and a third one on his neck, that had him waking up.
“Baby?” Lewis looked at you. You kissed his lips, open mouthed, sloppy and desperate.
“Shh,” you kissed his chest again, now he was fully awake, surrendered under your touch. You straddled him, your body missing him so much, his touch and his love, and the twilight making everything feel like before, you couldn’t help but desire him with burning passion.
“Love,” he stopped you, holding your jaw softly, “are you sure?”
“Please, just be mine tonight, yeah?” You asked him in a small voice.
“I’m yours forever, love.”
And so you drowned in him, one last time. You tossed your pajamas away, as he sat up in the bed, kissing your neck down, biting softly at your nipples, taking it painfully slow just in case you changed your mind. You ground against him, his cock hard under your ministrations. You pulled his pants down, and he kicked it to the floor, as you slid your cunt over his length, dripping over him, moaning loud and hearing his groans as his hands settled on your hips, letting you take control, doing whatever you wanted.
You got on your knees just so you could line him up at your entrance, pushing down slowly, letting him stretch you well, your body accommodating him perfectly like it should always be. And so you started riding him, slowly at first, but then you pounded him into the mattress, fucking him into oblivion. His hands were all around, pinching your nipples, gripping your waist and slapping your ass the way he knew drove you crazy. He fingered your clit, making you cum around his cock shamelessly fast, hips shaking and cunt gripping him tight.
“Can- oh, fuck,” he asked after a particularly hard clench of your dripping cunt, “-Can you give me one more, my baby?”
Then, he changed positions, laying you by his side, hugging you with one arm and using the other to lift your leg so he could have room to fuck you slow, lazy and nice, pressing your g-spot again and again. He smothered your lips with his tongue and teeth, stealing your moans, as your hands pressed his body into yours. You wanted to melt into him, to leave fingerprints and nail marks all over him. You wanted him to have a permanent indentation of your body pressed to his.
Selfishly, you wanted him to never forget you. To be a part of him in the forever he promised you. Even if you won’t be there.
“Look at me,” he asked, and you opened your eyes to meet his dark molten embers so full of love that it threatened to suffocate you, “you’re the only woman for me. You’re my everything.”
He picked up the pace a little, going harder, until he had you gushing around him, making a mess of your sheets and milking him until he was groaning, hips stuttering into release.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so good. Feel so good for me,” he murmured into the dark, “I love you so so much.”
You two hugged back to sleep.
In the morning you showered, brushed your teeth and changed. You stopped in the middle of the room, staring at Lewis’ sleeping form. In the closet you packed a bag, putting clothes and shoes on it, then you grabbed your iPad, laptop and work stuff, then you called a taxi and waited.
You left the divorce agreement on the kitchen island, alongside your wedding band, your lawyer’s contact information and a small note. You were crying as you got into the taxi, leaving behind the future plans you had hoped to live.
It took you a couple of months to get your shit together. You spent Christmas with your family only for the first time in years, and you didn’t travel for New Year’s Eve with Lewis as planned, you didn’t resign from your job, instead opting for a relocation so you could move away.
Finding a new place in Scotland was relatively easy considering you had a good amount of savings because Lewis always paid all the bills, you found a place where you could dedicate yourself to work and to write your book and to heal.
•
Lewis found the house empty that next morning. You had made love to him again, and he thought that maybe you two could salvage the marriage. But as he looked for you around the house, he found the divorce agreement in the kitchen. His stomach dropped as he held your wedding band, and the other hand found your note.
“Seems like I’m a coward too, since I can’t face you to say goodbye. Take this divorce agreement to your lawyer, and any questions you might have, please forward it to my lawyer, she’ll explain everything.
I love you, but I don’t trust you. And nothing good can be built in a trustless marriage.
The next time you find a good one, don’t break her heart.”
He cried like a baby, going over your divorce agreement that was signed by you. You had given up everything, you didn’t want anything of his, not any cars or property, not any financial support, not even the house that had your name on it too. You voided the prenup, stating that you didn’t want the alimony that came with the cheating clause. Looked like a clean break, like you didn’t want anything that could tie you to Lewis.
He tried calling you and texting you, but seemed like you had blocked him on everything. He went through the motions, meeting with your lawyer who, despite the fame of being tough, was really kind to him. He told your lawyer that he wanted you to take the alimony that came with the cheating clause because it was only fair, and he wouldn’t sign the divorce if you didn’t accept the money.
So after a few weeks, Lewis' lawyer got in contact to tell him you accepted the money, as long as he would sign the divorce as soon as possible. By the New Year, you were officially a divorced couple.
•
You got settled on your new home by the end of the first month of the year, three weeks after the divorce was finalized. You moved to a little north of Edinburgh, not too far from the city, but far enough that you could have some sense of peace and privacy.
You still had a tan line on your ring finger of the left hand.
You only realized your period was late the week later, as you were doing grocery shopping and house supplies, and you noticed you haven’t got your period for a while. Despite being a grown woman, worker and independent, you felt shaky fingers as you took a pharmacy test.
While you waited, you stayed in front of the mirror. You had felt a bit of nausea, but you attributed it to stress and disgust, and you had been feeling tired but you thought it was because of the moving and all the paperwork. You ran your palm over your stomach, trying to feel something, but it felt so normal.
When the time’s up and you leaned over the sink to check the result, you sighed reading the 8 - 10 weeks pregnant.
“That’s ok, baby,” you whispered, teary eyed, “we’re gonna be ok.”
Ending 1: moving on
Ending 2: forgiving
Ending 3: a secret third thing (blurb)
#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fic#formula 1#formula one#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton +18#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x reader#Spotify
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