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#please this hyperfixation has been my life
the-good-batch · 30 days
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THE WAY IT KEEPS BEING MILKED BY TBB CREATORS/VIEWERS HOW DARK THE SECOND HALF OF SEASON THREE WILL BE IT CONCERNS ME
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love-songs-for-emma · 2 months
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am i going to single-handedly create a fandom about jay holt from the video game "as dusk falls"? i just fuckin might
#i Cant stop thinking about him. ive literally been dreaming about him. i Need to help him. please#hes just a fuckin kid!!! (18?? 19??) hes a TEEN and his family is FUCKED and its not his FAULT#none of this was his fault. he deserves so much fuckin BETTER#also i thought i didnt care about vanessa but then shes got dead brother trauma hi hello hiiiiii#and now jay does too#fuck my LIFE#ive never been one for self-inserts but actually me jay and vanessa hang out regularly in a tree house we built#we laugh and shoot the shit and talk about what losing our brothers have done/are doing to our psyche#as dusk falls#jay holt#vanessa dorland#new hyperfix u say ? this one will be brief hopefully. bc the game is fucking. unfinished. stupid ass cliffhanger ass bjtch ass#plus im rewriting canon so jay has a good young life. no timeskip for MEEE#maria is literally just rambling. hi#.txt#the only fic ive ever written/outlined was about alana bloom from nbc's hannibal & she Deserved a rewrite#but maybe i need to indulge in writing jay holt's better reality TOO#theres a quote. hang on. a quote from a beloved piece of media. why cant i recall what its from rn#but theyre talking about different timelines n shish and one of them says ''maybe this *is* your best reality'' and its SO sad. fuck#is it hannibal. i feel like its always hanniba#no but also i feel like its not???#its like ''this is your best life. youre not getting a better one''#what the eff is that. im gonna be stuck on this forever#EDIT: IT IS FROM FUCKING HANNIBAL. BUT ITS GODDAMN FREDRICK CHILTON OF ALL PEOPLE WHO SAYS IT#''The optimist believes we live in the best of all possible worlds; the pessimist fears this is true.#This is your best possible world Will. Not getting a better one''#fucking CHRIST chilton#lines that go HARD
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fakeoutbf · 6 months
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#food tw#body image tw#hi i feel like this whole week has been a lot and it’s culminated today in me having an anxiety attack over my body#so i thought i’d just let some feelings out please feel free to just skip over this#logically i know that my body and what it looks like isn’t representative of my value as a person#i completely get that and i know that the thought is insane#but growing up with the specific model of being skinny and pretty so ppl find you attractive / appealing is so hard to unlearn some days#this is the heaviest weight i’ve been in my life probably and it isn’t even that much but it just means my body looks different#which makes it fit and look differently in clothes i used to take comfort in#and sure i’ve gotten bigger sizes and it’s no big deal but my brain chose today to hyperfixate on the fact that my love handles are bigger#and create this dip in my hips that didn’t use to be there and now i’m panicking over eating so much bread and carbs and not working out and#winter season coming up and all the carb rich food endorsed during that time and my mom craving more sweets and offering me as well#and IT SHOULDN’T FUCKING MATTER but for YEARS one of the only things i had ‘control’ over was my weight#and now that everything else has gone to shit i can’t get myself to have control over this thing and it’s making me feel even worse#and then i think of eating better but it just seems so hard when i have no motivation to actually make myself healthier meals and i just#i’m stuck in a standstill of wanting to get better but my brain shutting down and being exhausted after work and idk what to do#i know i need to be kinder on myself but also i want to change but idk where or how to start#i know i have to do it alone but fuck everything is so much scarier alone
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mrmooriecesalty · 7 months
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Who's Baldur and why does he have so many gates
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polaraffect · 7 months
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sigh. i want to play baldur's gate 3 rn.
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lightningmcqueer95 · 10 months
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barefoot-joker · 3 months
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Against Heaven and Hell~Yandere!Adam X Reader X Yandere!Lucifer
Hello, everybody! Welcome back to my Hazbin Hotel hyperfixation! Today I bring you a Yandere! Adam vs Yandere! Lucifer story. I think this one turned out alright but let me know what you think. As always, enjoy and have a great day/night!
Words: 1972
Warnings: Swearing, Adam being Adam, Car Crash, Contract Signing, Kidnapping
I bit my lip as I looked at myself in the full length mirror. The girls and I were going out tonight and I wanted to look my best. It had been a few months since we’d seen each other after all. I smoothed out my black and red plaid pants and fluffed my black dress shirt. Deciding I was presentable enough I walked to my kitchen. I grabbed my keys off the counter, put on my black bomber jacket and black boots, and walked out my apartment door. I locked the door behind me and continued my way to the elevator. Hitting the button for the first floor, I found myself tapping my foot as I waited.
Ding!
The doors opened and I walked out. I headed to the parking garage to the left of my apartment building and walked up the few flights of stairs to my car. Since I was the designated driver I made sure a few days before my vehicle was nice and tidy. I put on some tunes as I drove down several blocks before arriving near the center of the city. I parked on a side street and pulled out my phone, texting Ashley that I was ready for them. I scrolled through social media for a few minutes when there was a tap on my window. I looked up and saw Ashley, Shiloh and Tiffany standing there. I unlocked the doors and they all got in. “Hey, girl! Long time no see!” Ashley, sitting in the passenger seat, gave me a tight hug.
“It’s nice to see all of you too. Gosh, it feels like it’s been forever.”
“It really has. But no time is like the present as they say!” Tiffany piped up from the back seat. 
We all nodded in agreement. “So, where should we go?”
“How about Tito’s? I heard they have a $3 special going on tonight.” Shiloh said.
“Tito’s it is then.”
With that I started the car and drove further into the city. We arrived at Tito’s around 7 pm and after parking the car, walked inside. The bar was quite busy that night with many couples sharing tables and others taking to the dance floor as a live band played. The four of us took to a booth across from the bar and ordered our drinks. The girls had gotten some classics like a gin and tonic, old fashioned and Manhattan while I just had my favorite soda. I was the designated driver after all. We sat and chatted for hours, and it soon was 10 pm and my friends were wasted. I struggled to carry all of them to the car as they giggled drunkenly, grasping onto me tightly. “Oh my god, Y/n! You’re so cute, you know that?” Shiloh said, giggling slightly.
“Yeah, yeah.”
I had to lean Tiffany and Shiloh against the back door as I struggled to put Ashley in. “Stop, Y/n! That tickles! Stop!”
I grunted as I managed to get her in with her seat belt on. Quickly I rounded to the back of the car and started to get Shiloh in. Tiffany slid to the ground and started to laugh uncontrollably. This was going to be a rough night.
It took about 15 minutes but I had finally gotten everybody in the car. I drove everybody back to Ashley’s apartment and started to unload them into the hallway. “Y/n, please stay. We can like have a big sleepover!” Ashley slurred.
“Sorry, honey. I’ve got work in the morning. But I’m sure Tiffany and Shiloh wouldn’t mind your company.”
I leaned down to the “Welcome” mat by Ashley’s door and grabbed the spare key. Unlocking the door, I dragged in all three girls. I placed Ashley on her armchair and Shiloh and Tiffany on the couch. Once I made sure they were all cozy, I snuck out before they could grab onto me. I made sure to replace the key under the mat before I walked back to my car. 
The drive home was a bit chaotic. There were lots of people on the streets wandering around due to it being a Friday night and night life was hopping. I was placed out of my thoughts as my light turned green. I was in the middle of the intersection when suddenly my car was struck on the side by a much larger vehicle. I tried to regain control of the wheel as my stomach clenched, however, the car began to flip. I couldn’t even get a scream out as another car came and smashed into the front of mine. I could feel the car being slid across the road before slamming into a building. My head flew forwards and smacked into the wheel before flying back. My vision was doubling as I heard faint screams from the street. Just as my eyes began to close, I could have sworn I saw golden wings descending from the sky.
Before I even opened my eyes, I could feel warmth around me. It didn’t feel like a blanket or anything more like the Sun beaming down upon me. I slowly opened my eyes only to be blinded by bright light. Everything seemed to be overly saturated as I looked around and the gentle humming of violins filled the air. I sat up with a groan and held my head, a slight dull pain hitting it. What happened?
Suddenly, a set of double white doors flew open and revealed a tall, large man in a white, gold and purple robe, a demon looking mask on his face with black horns scraping behind his head. Beside him a smaller female with a black and white devilish mask, gray dress and white and black wings stood. “Ah good, you’re finally awake, babe.”
“Who are you?”
“Adam, first man. Autographs are extra, sweetheart. And this is Lute, my assistant.”
I just stared at him. What in the world? “Um, I hate to ask, but where am I?”
“You’re in Heaven, toots!”
“H-Heaven? You mean like Heaven and Hell Heaven?”
Adam’s yellow eyes rolled. “Duh! What other Heaven do you know of?”
My hands touched my chest and then my face. If I’m here does that mean-
“You’re not dead if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Then how’d I get here? I thought only dead people saw the Pearly Gates?”
Adam’s smile grew wide and the sight of fangs alarmed me. “I may have pulled a few strings to get you here. Please hold the applause. You can thank me later.”
“Um, okay.”
“I’ll give you a few minutes to collect yourself, but don’t keep me waiting for too long.”
He snapped his fingers and the two left. When the doors closed, I took a few moments to breathe. What exactly happened? All I could remember was driving back home from Ashley’s apartment, getting into a huge car crash and golden wings descending from the sky. Could that have been Adam? But then did he know I was going to get into a wreck? Could angels predict that sort of stuff? 
I shook my head and stood up from the bed I was on. Looking down I was in a light blue medical gown and my feet were bare. Was I in a hospital back on Earth? “You almost ready in there, babe? It’s been a while.”
“C-coming.”
“Not without me I hope.”
I stopped before the door. Did he say what I think he said? Whatever.
I opened it and stepped out. “Finally. Now come on, toots. Let the first man show you around!”
Before I could say anything, he slung a tight arm around my shoulders, and we walked off. 
Heaven wasn’t quite what I expected. It was almost like the city I lived in just without what would be considered sin. Every angel smiled and waved as the three of us walked by and it was almost sickening how happy everybody was. “So how do you like Heaven, babe? Does it surpass your expectations?”
“I guess. I wasn’t really expecting to be here. How did I get here again?”
“That doesn’t matter. The important thing is that we’re together! Especially now that you’ve got a real man in your life!”
“Sir, you said you’d hold off on that information.”
“Oh what’s the big deal, Lute? Toots will be stuck here anyway.”
I stopped walking and the two turned to look at me. “Stuck here? What are you talking about? You said I wasn’t dead.”
“Not yet. But as soon as my favor goes through then you’re all mine, sweetheart.”
“F-favor? Are you going to kill me?!”
“Eh, sacrifices need to be made. But I can assure you my dick is good.” He winked.
“Get away from me!”
I bolted as fast as I could. “Lute, grab her!”
I could hear the flapping of wings as I continued to run. Just as I was rounding a corner, I could feel myself falling. It wasn’t fast but more like floating back to Earth. The light around me dissipated into a grayness and I felt myself land softly.
My eyes flickered open and it took me a few minutes to realize I was in a hospital room. I sat up quickly and looked around frantically. I couldn’t see any angels around, so I leaned back in bed. A knock sounded at the wooden door and in walked a short man with blonde hair. He had on a white dress shirt and red tie, white pants and black boots. He stopped by the side of my bed and a pleased smile graced his lips. “Thank goodness you’re alright. I thought you’d never wake up. You were in a coma for a few days.”
“You are?”
“Oh, forgive me, where are my manners? Dr Morningstar at your service. You were in quite the accident, little lady.” 
“What happened?”
“From what we were told it was quite the fatal car crash. I’m not sure how it happened, but it seems like Heaven willed it to occur.”
He grit his teeth when he mentioned the glorious upstairs. Odd.
He went back to smiling at me and I couldn’t tell if it was the lighting, but his eyes appeared red. “The most important thing is we get you better. I’m sure your husband is worried about you.”
“Oh, I’m not married.”
“I see.”
His gaze dropped to my hand and I became uncomfortable with how long it lingered there. “Well, I’d better let you rest. I’ll be back later to check up on you.”
He bowed and exited the room, closing the door behind him. What is with today?
Over the next few weeks Dr Morningstar helped me recover. My friends came and visited a couple of times which was nice. I was told I could go home at any time soon. It was late one night when Dr Morningstar came into my room. “Alrighty then Y/n, I have your discharge papers right here.”
He handed me a stack of paperwork. “I just need you to sign the bottom.”
“Of course.”
I did as he said when suddenly the lights started to flicker. The room slightly shook as Dr Morningstar suddenly summoned a cane with an apple on top. “W-what’s going on?”
“You my dear, just signed your soul to me.”
“W-what?!”
“I didn’t want to trick you like this I promise, but it needed to be done. Adam was getting too close to you.”
How could he know about Adam? 
“The douchebag spilled everything to me, trying to make me jealous I guess. But sad to say, you’re now mine.”
He walked closer and I attempted to run but was met with a whack to the head. “Sweet dreams, darling.”
My eyes couldn’t quite process the six wings and horns that my doctor gained as they closed.
Everything faded to black.
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nicksolemnlyswears · 5 months
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WAYS TO DESTRESS
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summary: after a long day, all coriolanus wants to do is blow some steam off. nothing will stop him from getting what he wants…not even your sleepy state
pairing: young! coriolanus snow x capitol! reader
word count: 3.1k
warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, somnophilia, dub non-con, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, pussy spanking, belly bulge (?), LISTEN I KNOW ITS UNLIKELY BUT LET ME BE UNHINGED, a bit rough nothing too crazy, get your holy water though, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it please)
a/n: this came to me the moment i opened my eyes this morning. pure filth. i shouldn't be proud but i am. goes to show how much coriolanus is plaguing my thoughts day and night. my new little hyperfixation. a new villain to add to my collection <3
PT. 2
requests open ✨
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All Coriolanus feels is anger. It's been pumping through his veins throughout most of the day, almost causing him to lose his composure at all the wrong places. He can never afford to fuck up. He already did it once, and second chances are nonexistent in the Capitol.
He owes a lot to Dr. Gaul. After all, she saw the value in Coriolanus. She saw right through him and his faux kindness and unearthed his true wickedness. He simply needed a nudge in the right direction.
While working for with her is an honor, it is hardly easy. Like all aspects of his life, he's had to adapt to how she runs her lab. Coriolanus is hardly a follower; he's a leader, but as long as he remains under the tutelage of Dr. Gaul, he will have to follow her orders. Which means he has to talk when spoken to and perform how she expects him to.
There are days when it all becomes too much. His pride rises to the surface, forcing him to stifle it as best as he can before he does something he regrets.
He has to think of the scrutinizing gaze of his peers waiting for him to fail. As much as they pretend to be his friend, they want him to make a mistake so they can rise to the occasion. He won't allow that.
His apartment is silent when he steps in. The lavish decor is obscured by the lack of illumination. It's to be expected, seeing it's well past midnight.
Leaving his coat by the door, Coriolanus walks towards the bedroom. He needs to destress now, or he'll carry all his anger and frustration on his shoulders for the rest of the week. He can't have that. He can't lose control and look bad in front of Dr. Gaul and the others.
In the master bedroom, he finds you lying on the soft mattress, tangled in the silky bedsheets. He watches your chest rise and fall with gentle breaths, your pouty lips slightly ajar. It's a shame he's going to disturb your sleep, but he needs to let off some steam. That's one of the numerous reasons he has his pretty little girlfriend.
Coriolanus unbuttons the red waistcoat and removes his shoes, leaving them in the armchair. As he approaches your side of the bed, he notices the bright orange bottle on the nightstand and your book thrown haphazardly on the floor.
It's rare for you to take sleep aid medication because you hate how they knock you out. You only take them when you've had a particularly rough day. It seems Coriolanus is not alone in this. Today has been bad for both you and him.
Still, his plan remains the same. Coriolanus leans over you, kissing your forehead gingerly before his lips continue to trail down to kiss your cheek and lips. You don't stir with the soft touches.
Coriolanus darkly chuckles. It's not often he gets to do this. He'll take it as a treat for his patience throughout the day. He'd say the universe is working in his favor if he believed in such silly things.
Having you so pliable and willing in his hands excites him to no end. Lying on the bed, he digs his head on your shoulder, leaving marks for you to find in the morning. It spurs him on to hear little gasps falling from your lips.
"Beautiful and all mine," he mutters into the silent room as he lowers down the thin straps of your night dress to reveal your chest.
Coriolanus takes his time with your body. Even while asleep, it responds to his touch. He sucks and squeezes on your breasts harshly, biting down on the stiff peaks of your nipples.
He's not as gentle this time around compared to other times in the past. Then, you were simply asleep; now, you're completely doped out. He will miss your whines and the way you berate him.
Coriolanus continues down your body until he settles between your legs. "Fuck, darling," he audible groans when he lifts up your nighty to find a patch on your panties. Who would've thought you'd be as responsive to him while asleep.
He gives into his urges as he presses his nose against your center, smelling your arousal and licking up the wet fabric with his tongue. He only parts for a moment as he roughly slides the thin fabric off.
With you like this, there is no reason to tease. He doesn't have to kiss your thighs or hold himself back. Coriolanus can truly delve into what he wants without a spectacle.
It's why he buries his tongue into your wet cunt as soon as he has the chance. He holds your limp thighs on his shoulders as he presses himself against you, his blue eyes closing in ecstasy at the taste.
Soft noises- moans- come from above him as you slightly stir in your drug-induced sleep. While Coriolanus suck on your pearl of nerves, he wonders what you're dreaming about and if he's the protagonist as well.
His hips roll onto the mattress underneath, soothing the ache on his cock. He could go straight to fucking you but wants this to last. He needs to keep his mind busy, and eating you out is the answer.
Unconsciously, you grind your cunt on his tongue, chasing your release. Coriolanus smiles at this and rewards you with fucking you with his tongue. He's determined to make you cum all over it.
"Oh," he hears you whine when his nose rubs on your sensitive clit. He knows you're close. He feels it in the way your thighs are suddenly clenching around him.
There is no doubt in his mind you're still asleep. If you were awake, you'd be gripping his hair like a vice and calling his name for everyone to hear. You'd be begging him to fuck you silly.
Coriolanus laps up your juices like a starving man when you cum. Despite living in poverty, he never felt the need to act in such a way until he tasted you for the first time. He treats his sweet little girlfriend's cunt like a delicacy.
He stops himself before he almost makes you cum again as he slurps and sucks on your cunt. From up close, he can see the way your clit twitches under the pleasure. He leaves a bruise that will turn purple by morning on the inside of your thigh. It'll be a telltale sign he was there, devouring you while you soundly slept. A reminder you're his to use whenever he pleases.
Taking the rest of his clothes off, Coriolanus returns to your sleeping body. He pumps his cock in his fist as he looks at all the bruises and marks he left behind, and you'll have to hide because you can't have him seem like a pervert in front of his classmates.
Kneeling on the bed, he wraps your legs around his hips. He teases your wet cunt with the fat head of his cock, nudging over your clit repeatedly. He continues this until his cock is slick with your juices. As an extra, he spits down on your cunt, spreading his saliva over you. Not because you need lubrication but because he likes the sight of him on you in every which way.
No matter how many times Coriolanus has fucked you throughout your two years of being together, he's always had trouble pushing his cock in. He has to take a deep breath when he bottoms out as your cunt tries to choke him out. It's one of his favorite things about you, a constant reminder of the day he took your innocence.
It's only when he begins rocking his hips into you that you give any indication of waking up.
"What?" You whine as panic settles into you. Your brain isn't working properly. You're hazy and confused. Not knowing where you are, you get scared, and your heart races.
Coriolanus holds your hands as you begin struggling. As he leans down to talk to you, he pins you down, leaving you impaled with his cock. He immensely enjoys the struggle but can't have you screaming out in panic.
"It's just me, darling," he coo's in your ear, nuzzling his nose against your face. It works as your heart begins settling down.
"Coryo?" You sniff with tears in your eyes as your panic is quickly swept away. You try to speak, but the pills leave your tongue heavy and your brain foggy.
"Yes, your Coryo," he responds, kissing your cheek sweetly.
You've stopped struggling and spread your legs once again, just how he likes it. He even feels you clenching down purposefully around Coriolanus' cock. You're no saint; you enjoy making it hard for him even in your drugged-out state.
"Relax, darling. Go back to sleep," he hushes you, softly rocking into you.
Your eyes are already closed as he utters the words. You have no choice in the matter. Granted, now you sleep calmer, knowing it's Coryo touching you and making you feel food.
Coriolanus calls your name once, twice, and there is no response. You're back with the sandman, peacefully asleep. He takes it as a sign to keep fucking you.
Kneeling back on the bed, Coriolanus brings up your thighs to touch your chest. Your pretty cunt is on full display, showcasing the hues of pink and glistening fluids that shine under the lowlights of the bedroom.
Coriolanus licks the pads on his fingers before they smack down on your center. The only way it'll look even better is if it had that familiar twinge of red. He aims for the center, straight at your pearl, and smacks his hand down several times.
It manages to wake you again, eyes hooded with sleep, staring at him and complaints falling from your lips. Each time the 'smack' reverberates and you flinch, he soothes the sting, spreading the clear strings of arousal that drip from your hole.
Only when your cunt is flushed red and your clit is puffed out of its fleshy covering, does he pull you down on his cock. He fucks in and out of you mercilessly, addicted to the way your tight walls hug his cock even as he pulls out.
He glances towards your face and notes you're back to sleep. If it were up to him, you'd take the pills more often just so he could find you waiting for him asleep, naked on the bed. A real-life doll of his own.
The sound of skin slapping and his desperate moans and grunts fill the room, along with some of your smaller ones. He doesn't tend to be so vocal; he prefers listening to you beg for him, but with no one to hear him, he lets it all out.
Coriolanus places a hand on your lower tummy, pressing down to feel himself through your walls. It's an erotic thing to feel his cock slipping in and out, reaching the deepest parts of you.
He slows the pace of his thrusting, opting to go harder and deeper, just where he can make out the bump on your pelvis of his cock head.
The pressure Coryo is causing doesn't go unnoticed by you. Groggily, you open your eyes to find him with his head dipped down, whispering profanities to himself, a pretty sheen of sweat covering his fair skin.
"Mmm, Co-coryo," you moan, catching his attention.
With a glint in his eyes, he grabs your hand, placing it where you can feel it too, his fingers lacing through yours as he holds it down, "Feel this? No one will ever get you to feel like I do, darling. I'm going to ruin you for all others. Not like I'll let you leave anyways."
It's never crossed your mind to leave Coriolanus. Not for a second. The moment you set eyes on him, you knew he was it, and the ring on your finger is a promise of that. It's why you let him use you as he pleases.
You babble out a response as the darkness consumes you once more. By morning, you'll barely remember a thing as a side effect of the pills, but Coryo won't let you forget.
The mixture of your relaxed state, Coriolanus' hand pressing down on you, and the angle of his thrusts allow for something that hasn't happened before. Something he'll enjoy for the years to come.
As he viciously snaps his hips to chase his release, you wiggle under him. There are words on your heavy tongue neither can make out, a warning.
"Shh," Coriolanus quiets you down, focusing on the way you're milking his cock for all that his worth.
He's in for a surprise when a particularly angled thrust causes you to squirt around him. A stream of your juices covering his cock and abdomen. Although he falters for a moment, he quickly pulls out and rubs at your clit, causing a smaller stream to leak out of you.
His night has become a hundred times better. His eyes widen in wonder as his brain creates new ways to have you and make you do it again. "This is going to be fun."
When you wake up in the morning, you don't remember what happened, but you know something did. It's in the way your cunt aches and how thick cum runs down your leg when you get up.
Brief, blurry memories surface as you shower. Truly, you didn't care. If anything, you're upset you missed out on the fun and can't remember the pleasure. Ultimately, you trust Coriolanus and that he won't hurt you.
You feel well-rested as you dress and make breakfast for the two of you. There is an undeniable ache in your cunt, but that's always welcomed. Your problems from yesterday are only a quiet hum in a dark corner of your brain.
"My love," you softly call out to Coriolanus, touching his naked shoulder.
"Good morning," he says with his eyes closed, although there is an undeniable grin on his lips. All the stress he felt yesterday has dissipated, leaving a pleasant feeling in his chest.
"Good morning to you, too," you giggle as you lean down to catch his lips in a kiss. There is a tangy taste attached to them that you recognize well. "Had a good night, did you?"
"I certainly did. Do you remember anything?" He asks, sitting up on the bed. The falling bedsheets reveal his toned chest and stomach. Gently, you grab the tray with food and place it on his lap.
"Barely," you scoff, "It's a shame." You technically haven't had sex with Coriolanus in two long weeks. His stunt from last night did nothing to satiate you or your mind that keeps picturing him in all sorts of compromising positions.
Coriolanus hums as he takes a bite of toast. You know him well enough to know he's amused that you don't remember and that he's hiding something.
"What is it?" You prod, brushing a strand of pale blonde hair away from his eyes.
"Nothing," he says with a shrug. He's making you work for it. Coryo loves his games, after all.
"Coryo," you speak his name with a warning.
He takes his time, sipping on the glass placed on the tray. "I just…I didn't know you could squirt," he reveals cheekily, stabbing his fork on a piece of fruit.
"What? That's because I don't," you say, taken aback.
A crease forms between your eyebrows. You and Coryo are not ashamed to talk about sex. It took you by surprise at first because he always presents himself so elegantly and no-nonsense. Behind the scenes, though, when he's with you, he's open to discussing everything he wishes to try and his likes and dislikes.
You, in return, have been the same. Admitting that you've never been able to squirt and might never be able to. It's been a topic of conversation numerous times, seeing as it's something Coryo has always been curious about.
"Yes, you do. Last night, you squirted all over my cock and my fingers and my tongue," he boasts with a smirk as he remembers all the times he made you cum after that.
"I did?"
"You were such a good girl for me, darling," Coriolanus responds, putting the tray of food to the side and cupping your face, "All you had to do was relax."
"Hard to do when you're edging me for hours," you roll your eyes at him. Edging you is just one of the fun ways he tortures you.
"Don't be a spoilsport," he frowns, gripping your face harder before planting another kiss on your lips.
"It's not fair. I can't remember anything," you softly murmur. It's a real damn shame you won't remember the first time you squirt or the face Coryo made at the realization.
"Poor thing. I can show you how to do it again. I practiced last night a couple of times," he whispers in your ear, kissing down to your pulse point, "But I can't right now, or I'll be late."
"Huh?" You dumbly respond, enthralled by his words, imagining all the pleasure he'll give you.
"Thanks for breakfast," Coriolanus says, standing from the bed and heading into the bathroom butt-naked.
You watch after him lustfully and angrily, forced to continue your morning as if nothing happened.
In less than an hour, Coriolanus is ready to return to Dr. Gaul's laboratory. He has to check for any progress in his experiment before heading to the university for his classes.
He sits you on the bed before he leaves, though, to show you something 'important.' "I'll see you tonight," he says, kissing the crown of your head and turning on the TV.
The screen shows you lying on your back, whining helplessly as Coryo slips two fingers into your cunt rapidly. The rings on his fingers and the palm of his hand glisten with your sticky juices.
He did not lie about your new ability as you watch your hole leak clear liquid. The Coryo on the screen, who had been encouraging you with lewd words, eagerly attaches his mouth to catch it all. When he pulls back, his chin is dripping with your release.
Watching yourself in that fucked out state and Coryo behaving so obscenely gets your silk panties wet. Glancing at the clock, you note you have 30 minutes till you have to be at the door.
In no time, you're spread out on the bed with your hand under your university skirt, panties pushed to the side fucking two fingers into your cunt. Your eyes are focused entirely on the screen, rewatching the clip.
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thanks for reading! i hope you liked it!
part two for coryo making her squirt while she's actually conscious?
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nardos-primetime · 21 days
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Rise appreciation bc I can't sleep
I find it so funny how when I was younger I didn't wanna get into ANY tmnt bc it seemed basic and boring and now I can't sleep because of these losers I love them so much.
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Alongside that rise content would sneak into random things and I'd normally just scroll past, along with noticing cool looking pfps (which were mostly just screenshots FROM THE SHOW? THE ART IS THAT CLEAN MY HEADASS THOUGHT IT LOOKED COOL) Like even when I wasn't obsessed the designs solely gave them all so much personality while being pleasing on the eye, not many cartoons have that inherent pull with their art design for me and now that I AM a fan I want to choke past me and throw him in front of the screen dude this show is AMAZING and I'm happy to be a part of this community now even if I'm not a SUPER consistent or great creator. The fact I can just have FUN here is so insane and awesome.
(NOT to mention these turtles are actually helping me learn more about my own issues to hopefully be able to work on them more)
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Local turtles change some randos life to the point of violent hyperfixation (his sleep schedule has been destroyed and will not recover for months)
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vaexna · 26 days
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hello aphmau mcd enjoyer community. my name is xylo (or damien. or toki. or ophe.). unfortunately my first post on this damn app is going to be about an old hyperfixation that shaped me since like 5th grade
anyways, here's a wip of the high priest of o'khasis! (might or might not get finished o_o we'll see)
for some reason he's one of the only mcd/aphverse characters i've ever drawn in my life but. yk what. that's okay. the desire to draw emo boys has been strong since a young age
(ps. i need aph mcd enjoyer friends . i've been alone in this for way too long. please be my friend . my hyperfixation isn't that strong but it's strong enough for me to get the motivation at 1am to draw this mfkr. thank u for coming to my ted talk.)
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urgonnaneedabiggership · 11 months
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Host of a Ghost
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Mild violence. Very, very light mention of a foiled SA (not to reader). Some angst.
Word count: 4.1K
Short A/N: This man has become my hyperfixation since I watched the movie and I'd been wanting to write something with him and today finally the muse came to me do I deliver you this decent-sized thing I wrote. Hope you like it <3
PART II
“Unusual” wasn’t a word you would’ve used to describe your life at all. At least not until about a year ago.
It was unusual to find a spider with such an odd color palette roaming your apartment since you were used to more dull-colored typical critters. It was also unusual that you didn’t panic enough to turn the apartment upside down to look for the thing before it bit you, but there was too much work to do, and a million notes from Dr. Connors to go over. It was equally unusual that you hadn’t rushed to the hospital the minute you noticed the tiny marks on your thigh.
“I mean, if it was really dangerous, it would have hurt more.” Was your reasoning to ignore it and keep scanning the pages before you. Nobody said pursuing a Ph.D. was without sacrifice. 
By the time you tried to stand up to make more coffee just to end up collapsing on your kitchen floor, it was much too late.
From then on, “unusual” was pretty much every day’s motto.
Having a nightmare that night about being suffocated and unable to escape just to wake up hanging upside down and wrapped in sticky shit was the first clue. Turns out you were actually able to produce said sticky shit at will in the shape of a thin thread, then you discovered the wall-climbing abilities, and before you knew it you were roaming the city at night trying to get comfortable threading between the tall buildings, running across rooftops and challenging yourself to climb this or that building as fast as you could. You felt indestructible, alive. It was wonderful.
You’d never forget the night of your first save either. For several reasons.
It was an ordinary night, right before returning to your apartment, when a violent shiver abruptly ran up your spine and every cell in your body commanded you to stop. When you did, a scuffle in a nearby alley caught your eye. A young girl was violently shoved against a wall by a man who pressed his hand against her mouth. The same second his hand came dangerously close to the zipper of her jacket, you practically tackled him from above and pinned him against the ground, having no clue of what to do besides throwing punches at his face until you knocked him out. A whimper coming from a dumpster behind made you realize you had an audience.
“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, remembering your uncovered face, the only solution at hand is to wrap your scarf around your head to try and hide as much as possible, “Oh god this feels too much like cultural appropriation for my taste,” You kept nervously rambling to yourself as you slowly approached the dumpster.
“Um…hi,” You greeted, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
Being met with nothing but silence, you were about to leave when a soft voice replied.
“No. He didn’t. Thank you so much.”
“Is there…I don’t know; is there somebody you want me to call?”
“I want to call my mom.” She replied, her voice still shaking, “He took my phone.”
“Right. Phone. Okay.” You quickly made your way back to the unconscious man and pawed his clothes looking for it. He let out a groan in protest.
“Yeah it doesn’t feel right, does it asshole?” You muttered as you retrieved it from one of his pockets. Then you shoved him onto his stomach to tie his hands and legs behind his back before returning to the girl.
“Here. It still works,” You just held it over the dumpster, seeing nothing but her pale hand as it reached out to take it before you took a few steps back. 
“No, wait,” She immediately pleaded, “Please don’t leave me alone with him.”
“Like hell I am. I’m staying right here.”
So you waited with her until the police arrived. However, the minute you saw the flickering lights and heard the approaching siren, you retreated into the dark part of the alley and climbed onto the nearest building to escape through the rooftops.
It wasn’t until you were back in your apartment that you realized you’d been smiling all the way home. Carefully shutting the window behind you, you let yourself fall onto the couch and screamed joyfully, the pillow muffling the sound.
She was okay. A person was okay because you could intervene and do something about it.
However, a new wave of shivers flooded your veins so abruptly that you sat down immediately.
“Yeah, I know how that feels,” Came a feminine voice from the unlit kitchen, “Being able to help, I mean.”
You scrambled to your feet and started walking backward. However, the voice didn’t remain hidden for too long. A woman emerged from the shadows, dressed in red with a yellow hairband pushing her near-afro hair back. She greeted you with a soft smile.
“Your reflexes need polishing,”
“My…?” You repeated, dumbfounded.
“And you have to learn how to fight properly. Randomly throwing punches isn’t always going to cut it,”
“I’m sorry, who are you? Why are you in my apartment? Were you following me? Do you know about…?”
“Whoa, slow down, kid. I know you have questions, and I might be able to help you with that. But you’re going to have to come with me.”
“Alright, I’ll…let me just get my car keys,”
“Oh, sweetie,” The woman said in between laughs, not malicious but truly amused, “You have so much to learn,”
You were starting to wonder why she had elongated that “o” like that until, after pressing a few buttons on the device around her wrist, something that you would’ve described as a “black hole on LSD” erupted in the middle of your living room.
That night you learned that her name was Jessica Drews and that she was completely right about you having so much to learn. With a four-second-o.
Over the following months, you became capable of things you didn’t think possible. Walls that took you a minute to climb became easy obstacles that didn’t take up more than fifteen seconds of your time, your fighting skills had also improved exponentially under Jess’s tutelage, and of course, going from a life where you could count your friends with less than one hand to being constantly surrounded by amazing (no pun intended) Spider-People who not only understood the changes you were going through but warmly welcomed you into their circle was more than you could’ve asked for.
Well, perhaps some more willingly than others. And by others you meant him.
He, who seemed to be always around, silently watching but never intervening.
He, who despite being allegedly “always locked up in his lab” always seemed to personally oversee your training since day one.
Whom you’d tried to greet as gleefully as you did the others just to receive, if anything, a vague nod of acknowledgment. In your first three months, you had spoken maybe four times. Well, you had. He only hummed, nodded, or answered in monosyllables. You knew better than to waste your energy with people like that, but for some reason you were unwilling to just accept Miguel O’Hara didn’t like you and that was that.
“For some reason” being code for “I’m one second away from fainting every time he as much as looks in my direction,”
You weren’t a child, for crying out loud. You were aware that no matter how cold, distant, and seemingly indifferent the leader of your new team was, he was an insanely attractive man. Even with the fangs…no, especially with the fangs, for some reason. His whole aura that screamed “completely-inaccessible-frighteningly-powerful-twice-my-size-man” had you harboring a huge crush on him within two months of meeting him. So painfully unrequited that it was embarrassing.   Just the fact he could ignore your greetings and surely never think twice of it but you would spend the rest of the day wondering what you could’ve possibly said to make him at least say “hello” back made you want to scream into a pillow until your throat burned.
It was right up there with the time he’d muttered ‘much better’ when he saw you land a kick you’d been practicing and those three seconds kept playing on your head for the rest of the week.
The night of your first mission you decided you were going to prove your worth, not to your crush but to your team leader.
“I told him you’re ready,” Jess said with a proud smile, “He’s going to call you in sometime throughout the day to let you know where you’ll be going and with whom, probably me. How do you feel?”
“Excited, I guess,” You replied, pressing your lips together anxiously, “Also nervous. I don’t want to screw this up.”
“With me as your mentor? That’s unlikely,” Jess replied with a wink, giving you an encouraging pat on your shoulder as she walked away.
However, the day continued normally. You did some assigned tasks here and there, which mostly included helping Spider-Byte to keep everything running smoothly given your background in the tech field. You grabbed lunch, then thought it would be a good idea to train some more before going away.
You were beginning to lose all hope when, as you leaned down to fix some wiring, Lyla popped right beside your head and called your name so loudly you hit your head against the metal and hissed. One year and still you hadn’t used to the way she appeared out of nowhere.
“Oops, sorry,” She promptly apologized, “Well you’ll have to walk that off, Miguel wants to see you STAT.”
“How am I supposed to walk a head injury off, Lyla?” You joked, rubbing your forehead as you rushed across the halls with the holographical figure floating after you.
“Not in my code,” She replied using her usual excuse.
When you walked into his working space, Miguel’s back was turned to you as he used a digital pen to do some annotations on what looked like blueprints of new equipment. After he didn’t react to your presence for a few seconds, you hesitantly walked closer and cleared your throat.
“That looks nice. Is it a new suit?” You asked, as always, trying to start a conversation.
“I just received an alert about the…” He stopped and sighed as if saying the silly nickname was physically painful to him, “…the Go-Home-Machine. It said there was a small power overload since we sent back that Vulture from the 192-011 Universe.”
“Yeah, but Byte and I are already working on that and it should be fully functional by tomorrow morning,” You replied, a bit confused as to what that had to do with your mission.
“Good. Let me know as soon as it’s fixed.” Miguel hastily replied, not even turning to face you until a whole minute passed and he realized you were still standing there. Even then, he just barely turned his head.
“That’s all, (Y/N). Thank you.”
That’s all? What do you mean that’s all?
“Was there something else you wanted to do?” He asked. Shit. You’d said that out loud.
“I…Jessica told me that I’m ready to go on a mission and that today you…”
“I said I would think about it, and I have.”
He fell silent again. No matter how attractive he was, you were starting to truly get pissed at his stupid theatrical antics.
“And?”
“And the answer’s no. You’re not ready yet.”
That felt like all the disappointments in your entire life added up and multiplied by ten. Especially because of how easily he dismissed you despite being aware of how hard you’d worked, how many nights you decided to forgo hours of sleep just to train and polish every movement until it was as close to flawless as you could.
“Not ready yet?” You practically hissed in a voice you almost didn’t recognize. Hell, it was enough for him to put down the pen. “Not ready yet? That kid Pavitr has been here for what? A month? And he’s already going off on missions. Alone, I might add!”
Unsurprisingly, he did not answer.
“And he’s very, very good, I’m not saying he isn’t. But I’m just as good. And more experienced, both at being here and at being a Spider-Person. I have completed every training scenario you’ve thrown my way, worked my ass off to understand every bit of information regarding interdimensional traveling, and studied the protocol to control anomalies, what is it that you still need me to prove?”
He took a deep breath. So deep that his shoulders rose, flexing the muscles of his back in such a way that if you hadn’t been so angry, you would’ve been too distracted to keep arguing. Even with your blood boiling, you couldn’t help but stare and feel your stomach tense at the sight.
“Do you like being part of this team, (Y/N)? Do you like training in our headquarters, having access to all our information, and maintaining contact with the other members of this society?”
“Of course I do,” You replied immediately. Slowly, Miguel turned around to face you completely and walked towards you, descending the two small steps that separated you until he stood towering over you. Even if your knees were about to give in to this unexpected closeness, this wasn’t the time to fold. You held his glare defiantly and folded your arms in an attempt to mentally guard yourself against him.
“Then I suggest you get in line and do as you’re told,” He said in a low voice. But it wasn’t threatening, or condescending. It was an odd, flat tone. Tired, perhaps. Almost as if…as if he was reprimanding you against his will.
He was almost unbearably close. You could feel his breath hitting your face. If right then all logic flew out of the window and you stood on your tiptoes you could…
“I’ll do that when you’ve earned my respect, and I have a policy of reciprocity when it comes to respect, Miguel. I’ve been in line for a year, I’ve listened, learned, and improved so much that if you’re still looking down on me, then it’s your problem, not mine. And no self-righteous, big-headed…”
“Just get out,” He cut you off, once again turning his back to you and walking towards the blueprints again.
“Oh no, I’m not finished…” You insisted, trying to follow him. However, as soon as you gave one step forward he turned around so violently that you stumbled backward and stared at him with something you hadn’t felt towards him up until then: fear.
“Yes, you are,” Was his only reply. As dull as the others.
While you could only see his face for a moment before he walked past you and left the room, something about his expression stuck with you even hours later, when you laid on your bed at night and combed through the scene over and over. You thought he would be fuming, maybe even shocked that you’d dared to talk to him like that. The last thing you expected was for him to look…upset. Hurt, even. The mere thought of you being able to hurt Miguel O’Hara was as ridiculous as imagining a goldfish fighting back against a shark. Still, you realized that even if you thought he was in the wrong, you felt bad about how things went down back there. You would never understand what being the leader of hundreds of super-powered people was like. Commanding each and directing their particular abilities as best as he could all while maintaining a vigilant eye on endless strings of causes and effects because he knew firsthand the consequences of being careless with them.
Even if he had made a mistake with you and of course you still wanted to address it later, right then all you wanted was to apologize.
And so, not even an hour later you were roaming the halls of the HQ, your heart beating furiously as you got closer to his quarters, wondering what you could even begin to say.
When the automatic doors slid open, you stepped inside and turned back to look as the doors closed behind you. Well, no turning back now.
“Miguel?” You called, looking around the large room, pondering whether a first-name basis was okay. After everything that had happened, going back to Mr. O’Hara sounded terribly stupid. Then your eyes landed on the row of screens where he spent most of his time. An extremely ill-timed wave of curiosity filled your chest as you approached them, taking another look at the seemingly empty room before stepping onto the platform. Getting bolder, you reached out your hand and brushed your fingertips across one of the screens. It immediately came to life with a blue glow, startling you and making you curse under your breath. You were about to look for a button to switch it off when a video started playing automatically from where he had left off. He was in it, holding a young girl. Miguel wasn’t just smiling. He was laughing. His laugh was exactly as you’d pictured it. Not particularly loud, but hearty and low. He had the kind of laugh that made you unwittingly smile as well as a newfound sympathy filled your chest as tears filled your eyes when you pictured that being taken from him just like that. How could one have a family, and then one day be completely alone and keep going?
With a renewed disposition to make things better between you, your hand reached out for the switch that would turn the screen off until a third voice piqued your interest. It belonged to whoever was holding the camera.
“Would you please stop hoarding her? I deserve some mother-daughter time too! Here, hold this thing and give her to me,” The voice said between laughs. There was something about that voice that made an extremely cold shiver run down your spine.
“Fine, you’re right. Bueno pues, mijita, ve con mamá, ¿quieres ir con mamá?”
The picture became blurry as the camera switched places with a giggling Gabriella, who could be briefly seen stretching her arms toward the third figure.
“Alright,” Came Miguel’s voice again, “But when I turn the camera towards you I want both of you to blow Daddy a kiss, can you do that for me?”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned the camera around.
And then you found yourself staring into your own eyes. They weren’t quite the same shade as yours, and “your” hair was styled differently. And “you” had freckles. But otherwise, it was like staring into an interdimensional mirror. Then, your voice spoke.
“Okay sweetie, let’s humor him, shall we? Blow Daddy a kiss. And another one from me because now I have to use both arms to hold you, my big girl!”
Miguel laughed again at the way his daughter’s face lit up at being called a “big girl”.
“¿Saben que las amo a las dos, verdad?”
“And Gabriella loves you too. I think you’re…nice enough.”
“(Y/N), I don’t think you marry somebody for ‘nice enough’, mi amor,”
“I love you too. Against my better judgment.”
With one last interrupted laugh, the video ended, and, in a cruel irony, the once again black screen showed your actual reflection.
Except this time, it wasn’t the only one. With a loud gasp, you turned around. After seeing him in that video, it became much more evident that the Miguel in it was nothing but a memory of the past. And in a matter of seconds, everything shifted into place like a gloomy puzzle. His expression was unreadable, though he wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were fixed on the empty screen.
“I wasn’t supposed to ever see that, was I?” Was the only thing that came to your mind after a lengthy, tense silence.
“What good would it have done?” He replied, almost numbly.
“So that’s why you’ve always…stared?” You kept pushing. Against your better judgment, you thought.
“It was at first,” Came his only response. Like always, it seemed like you would have to tear the answers off him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, turning your head to look for his eyes. Even then, something warm filled your chest. Something that made your heart beat so quickly you felt as if it would stop at any moment, and it spread all over you no matter how much you tried to fend it off. Hope.
Surprisingly, this time he caved in and looked at you. Still, the answer never came. For the first time in all the time you’d known him, Miguel O’Hara was at a loss for words. And that said more than anything he could’ve come up with.
“And you expect me to believe that, by sheer chance, you happened to catch feelings for somebody who is practically your wife’s interdimensional twin?”
“It sounds so much worse when you say it like that,” Was that a hint of a smile? An attempt at a joke? One year and the only time he’d bothered to be decent to you was when you were talking about how much you looked like her?
With an annoyed look, you moved away from him and started to make your way to the exit.
“Do you think I wanted this?” He spoke rather loudly, his whispers going out of the window as he started to follow you across the room.
Miguel O’Hara following you to keep you from leaving. Just hours before you would’ve died of happiness at the mere thought of this scenario. Right now, your brain was a flurry of thoughts and emotions that you didn’t know how to handle.
“I was doing an amazing job at keeping my distance. Watching you from afar, seeing you laugh, grow, win everybody over with that awfully big heart of yours, and still I reined myself in,” He continued, “Today’s the perfect example. You thought I didn’t respect you, for fuck’s sake! I respect you so much that every single day I have ignored you and pretended you are nothing but another face in the halls. Damn it, (Y/N), I couldn’t even look you in the eye when for months you’ve been all I’ve wanted. All because I didn’t know if I loved you or what was left of her. And I didn’t want you to get involved in shit that’s mine to figure out.”
Hearing him not only withdraw his previous statement of you not being capable of doing things and accepting the problem was his and not yours made you stop in your tracks.
Fine, the sudden (though odd) love declaration had something to do with it too.
“So you don’t think I’m not ready?” You asked, turning around and even taking some steps towards him.
“Are you serious? I’ve watched you closely all these months. You learn in days what others do in weeks. You push yourself way more than so many of our members and yet I’ve never, ever seen you become overconfident. Today you never said you knew everything. You said you knew enough.”
This time, it was you who remained silent. There was something else you wanted him to elaborate on, and from the look in his eyes, you realized he knew damn well what it was.
“You were right. The problem wasn’t yours. It was mine all along. I could manage to push you away and keep my feelings at bay. But knowing that you were eventually going to go out there and take so many risks...worst case scenario, you could get hurt or not come back at all. That was too much for me to handle, s’all.”
“Were you afraid of losing me…?” You started to ask just for him to interrupt you.
“Yes. Very much.” However, you lifted a hand to stop him. You weren’t finished.
“Were you afraid of losing me, or were you afraid of losing her again, Miguel?”
Three seconds later, when no answer came out of his mouth, you were about to turn around once again when he rushed and stood in front of you. For a second, you thought he was going to grab your shoulders to keep you in place. Not wanting to come off as if he was forcing you to stay, his hands just hovered on both sides of your shoulders without touching you.
“Listen, she wasn’t a picky eater like you are. But I swear that woman never drank enough water and every time I see you there’s either a bottle in your hand or laying around. And she was so, so messy. It took us at least ten minutes to find the keys every single time…and Spider-Byte said you sort your tools by size and color. Color. (Y/N), I don’t think even I…”
“Are you getting somewhere with this?”
“You’re not her, (Y/N). You have never been, and you never will, I know that. I want you to know that I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. I love you.”
After that, he moved out of the way and folded his arms.
“If you want to go back to your dimension and stay there for a while…or for good, I don’t know, I completely…”
“I love you too, you know?” You cut him off, pressing your lips together after blurting out the three words that’d been haunting you for the past months. Words that up until now you were sure would never leave your chest. When you turned to look at him, you saw in his eyes what minutes ago had filled yours. Hope.
God, his face was so hauntingly beautiful when his features softened.
“What do you want from me?” You finally asked him, your voice shaky from the effect you knew his answer would have regardless of what it was.
Miguel moved closer to you almost hesitantly, his eyes never leaving yours. When he was close enough, he reached out with both his hands and slid them up the back of your neck, his thumbs tucked in front of your ears as his warm palms engulfed the back of your head so he could hold you while he brought his face down to press his forehead against yours.
“Mi amor, I’d give you all I am and be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me for now,”  
You knew it would take some time for you to get used to hearing him say things like that without wondering if you were the only one in his mind when he did. It would be a while until you felt completely certain that you were made of flesh and bone and not just a ghost in his eyes, but it would happen. You saw his eyes as he drew his face closer to yours and when your lips touched, you knew that it would definitely happen sooner or later. Until then, you thought as you stood on your tiptoes when he almost desperately pressed his lips onto yours, he was very much worth the wait.
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antiquatedplumbobs · 3 months
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The Soddy
A CC Free Prairie Homestead
Lot size: 40x30 Price: §37,341 Lot type: Residential Location: Biscuit's Bastion, Chestnut Ridge
Homesteading and the settlement of the American west has always been a particular interest of mine and recently I've become very interested in sod houses! I toyed with the idea of recreating one in Sims but never had a good world or assets to work with. When I fell into my little building bender a few weeks ago I realized Chestnut Ridge was perfect for it and promptly hyperfixated.
This home is ideal for a couple or small family just trying to make their way in the prairie of Chestnut Ridge. The house can fit up to three sims and a baby or toddler, perhaps a bit snug for our modern standards but perfectly alright for the nineteenth century. Also comes complete with fertile fields, an empty chicken coop, a slightly decrepit horse barn, and a well stocked root cellar.
More info and download under the cut:
This house is heavily inspired by Prairie Homestead in South Dakota. When I started kicking around the idea of this build I started googling for reference photos and discovered this very cool historic site. I tried to match this build to its real life counterpart more than I usually do, as the interior that they have set up for that house was just so fun and unique feeling. The exterior is inspired by it, but sim lot constraints required more creative license. I highly recommend you look at some photos, it really is such an interesting place.
Sod houses, which were constructed by cutting hunks of the top layer of the grasslands (which were held together by the strong roots of the native grasses) were common throughout the latter part of the nineteenth century and began to peter out in the early part of the twentieth century. They weren't the most luxurious accommodations, but did have the virtue of being warm in the winter and cool in the summer.
Unfortunately as the walls were made from the earth, bugs could be an issue and I've given this lot the creepy crawlies bug challenge for ~realism~. It's also off-the-grid, and has a functional root cellar (meaning I put the fridge down there, have fun in thunderstorms).
This lot is fully playtested (might have been the most I've played in a while actually, I wanted to make sure the crib worked). Please please enjoy this build. I know I always say it but this one is actually my favorite, and making this work with the constraints of Sims 4 terrain tools was quite the undertaking and I'm so pleased with it.
If you use it please tag me in any photos, I love seeing what y'all get up to with my builds!!
Gallery ID: antiqueplumbobs
SFS | Google Drive
@publicvanillabuilds @twentiethcenturysims @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters
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astonmartinii · 1 year
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love languages | charles leclerc instagram au
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
charles and y/n show off their love languages, gift giving and words of affirmation.
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 661,083 others
charles_leclerc: sometimes facilitating your girlfriend's hyperfixations works out
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yourusername it's defo better than the cupboard full of yarn from when i wanted to start crochet
charles_leclerc you're a much better dj than crocheter (sp?)
landonorris you're coming for my brand
yourusername hush child i've been playing guitar hero since before you were born
landonorris you're two years older than me?
yourusername i was a cool fucking kid
danielricciardo so all i'm hearing is flat party
yourusername if you bring the alcohol i'm down
charles_leclerc it's literally my flat?
user223 they're my parents omg
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 40,133 others
yourusername: who said boys don't like flowers?
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charles_leclerc i love anything from you <3
user521 the way they just use their instagrams to flex their relationship
user762 like we get it you're happy LEAVE US ALONE
landonorris you posted your rizz on instagram ???
yourusername it's called a love letter loser
landonorris cringe
yourusername just say you're lonely and bounce
charles_leclerc you guys good?
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charles_leclerc posted to their story
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[caption: learnt how to bake because there's no good cinnamon rolls in monaco for y/n]
carlossainz55
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[caption: ever want to feel lonely? sit with charles when he's on the phone to y/n}
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 773,087 others
charles_leclerc: happy birthday to the love of my life, you've changed my life more than you can know. with only a few races left this season, we can celebrate properly soon xx
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yourusername i love you so much charles, virginia woof and i shall be cheering for you all the way til the end xx
user12 god when is it my turn
user44 i beg she gets to give a radio message if charles wins in abu dhabi
user77 OMG PLEASE I NEED IT
scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n!!! looking forward to seeing you in abu dhabi
user404 it's happening ITS HAPPENING
yourusername added to their story
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[caption: nowhere i'd rather be, believe always]
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 1,076,223 others
charles_leclerc: what i'm feeling right now can't be put into words. we've been working for this my whole life, sacrificing so much and losing so many people. i can't say it doesn't hurt not having them here to see it, but i know they're proud. to the tifosi, i am beyond happy to bring the championship back to maranello and take ferrari back to where they belong. y/n has always said my love language is gift giving so consider this my gift back to you for all the support you've shown me over the years. and finally to y/n, you're not only my escape from racing at home but also my focus on the road. i take your letters to every race and will always think of you when i cross that line, i love you and this championship is just as much yours as it is mine. forza ferrari
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pierregasly congrats calmar!! everyone is so proud of you
yourusername this is yours charles, and yours alone. you've worked for it, you deserve it. i'm so proud and honoured to even be a part of your journey. i love you.
charles_leclerc i hope you're ready for three months of nothing but me
yourusername i can't wait
scuderiaferrari CONGRATS CHARLES FORZA FERRARI
user16 omg he actually did it !!!! congrats charles
user689 her radio message, they're really in love man
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, daniel ricciardo and 70,458 others
yourusername: thank god i got my nails done. no joke i love you so much charles, i can't wait to write you letters for the rest of my life.
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charles_leclerc i'm glad i booked the right nail salon. no jokes i can't wait to buy you random shit for the rest of my life.
user44 OMG HE DID IT
pierregasly congrats!!! bagsy best man
carlossainz55 that'll be me actually
arthur_leclerc it's me actually
yourusername you know he already asked seb right?
user88 so do we think he planned to wait until he won the championship to propose or?
charles_leclerc i did want to wait, but i was proposing this year no matter what, needed her to be mrs. leclerc as soon as possible
user88 AHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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its-time-to-write · 6 months
Note
I loveeee your taylor swift based jamie fics so i was wondering if u could maybe write one based on question..? You’re amazing at writing conflict between the reader and jamie but ofc ending with fluff and i feel like question is the oerfect outline for a fic like that. Thank you!
once again, I am slowly but surely finishing asks in my inbox! my hyperfixation has been awakened ever so slightly, as well as my need for new Jamie content. enjoy!
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half-moon eyes
“What if I don’t go?” you suggest, sprawled out on Keeley’s couch.
“You have to,” Rebecca calls from the kitchen. “It’s non-negotiable.”
“I don’t even work for you,” you say, “so you literally cannot make me.”
Keeley grins devilishly next to you, feet propped up on the coffee table. “You don’t work for me either, and I can make you,” she says.
You groan. “C’mon, Keels, I’m not even on staff at Richmond. Why do I have to go to this benefit? It’s going to be a bunch of rich footballer twats.”
Rebecca places two glasses on the table and sits down. “You’re a rich twat. And you’re our friend. Besides, Keeley and I already bought your dress.”
“You what?” you yelp.
Keeley’s still grinning, except it’s all smug now. “Come on, babe, it’ll be fun. Free food, free booze. Hot men. Besides, it’s for a good cause. You love those.”
You drape an arm over your eyes and say, “Fine. I’ll go. But honestly, it’s just because Ted told me he’d help me get Roy on the dance floor.”
Rebecca and Keeley become a chorus of “oh, come on,” as they whack you with Keeley’s pink fluffy pillows.
Keeley and Rebecca are the absolute worst for picking out the dress they did, because it’s perfect.
It’s sleeveless with a halter neck, decorated with giant light blue sequins all the way to the floor, with a slit high enough to add some spice, but still low enough that you won’t feel the need to tug at it every five seconds.
And while you were correct about the rich footballers, you were a little bit incorrect about the “twat” part. Mostly.
You didn’t want to go to the benefit for the same reasons Keeley and Rebecca did want you to go.
Jamie fucking Tartt. 
He does no favors for your “good girl” reputation, and yet you’ve found yourself completely enamored with him. You swear to Keels and Bec that it’s just his muscles and his eyes and nothing more, but they got you to admit that you also liked his personality and that’s when you knew you were done.
The whole point of being in a three-person friend group is so that at any given time, two of you can meddle in the third one’s love life.
It’s supposed to always be you and Keeley versus Rebecca, or you and Rebecca versus Keeley.
Not Rebecca and Keeley versus you. 
They had successfully gotten you to spend time with Jamie during a team party, one where they snuck you in as Keeley’s emotional-support person then promptly ditched you to flirt with footballers/coaches of their own. 
You’d sat in a corner with a book stolen from a shelf, trying to make yourself invisible. Unfortunately for you, Jamie has sharp eyes and a tendency to gravitate toward introverts. 
But it doesn’t matter now. You’re in Rebecca’s car headed to that dumb benefit and gripping Keeley’s hand.
“Please don’t leave me this time,” you plead.
Keeley squeezes your hand twice. “Babe, it’s a bunch of people you know. And besides, how are you supposed to get in Jamie’s pants if you’re with me the whole night?”
Rebecca snorts out a laugh as you groan. 
“I’m not trying to get into Jamie’s pants,” you say. “I’m literally only here because you made me.”
“Sure,” Keeley says. “And I’m a virgin.”
The car dissolves into laughter along with your nerves, and you feel as ready as you ever will to face the night.
“Two please,” you say to the bartender. He turns around to prepare Keeley and Rebecca’s drinks and you sigh, forearms on the counter.
“Rough night?” asks a teasing voice. You turn to see Jamie slide into the space next to you looking fit in a cream suit. He tilts his head a little bit, causing one dangly earring to sparkle in the light.
“Surprised to see you without a book,” he continues. “But no worries, you could always ask Roy for one of his. He’s always got one on him and I think he’s stored one up his-”
“Here you go,” says the bartender.
“Thanks,” you reply, nodding once to Jamie in a way that signals he can leave, but instead of doing so he follows you.
“I can take those,” he says, reaching for the drinks and you automatically hand them to him.
“Thanks,” you say again.
He tilts his head to look at you. “You’re fucking quiet tonight.”
You laugh once, short and grating. “Yeah, well, this isn’t really my thing. I got suckered into it and manipulated into wearing this dress and normally I’m not this uncomfortable, but I don’t really know many people here.”
“You know me,” Jamie says softly, and then you’re at the table. 
Keeley looks up in surprise as Jamie hands her a drink but the surprise doesn’t last long before it’s replaced by devilish twinkle. 
“Oh, are you two going dancing?” she says.
“N-no,” you stutter, “he was just-”
“Dancing sounds so fun,” Rebecca interjects. “I might join you in a song or two.”
“But we’re not-” you try again.
Rebecca quirks an eyebrow at you. “Aren’t you?”
You turn to see Jamie with his hand out. “Come on,” he says. “It’ll be fun. Swear down.”
You reach for him before your mind can tell you not to, and let him pull you onto the dance floor.
You aren’t the only ones there, it’s actually pretty busy, but there’s only one set of hands on you.
You’re letting Jamie Tartt into your space in a way that no man before has been allowed. 
He’s crowding you a little bit, dancing close enough that you’re brushing up against each other and there isn’t really anywhere to go, but you’re fairly certain that the moment you indicated you needed space, he’d be gone. 
He’s so close that it’s overwhelming, with the music loud in your ears and the smell of his cologne.
Time seems to slow, music fades, and all that exists are you and Jamie. He reaches out to touch your face and you lean closer, almost at eye-level due to your heels.
He pauses for just a moment so you surge forward and kiss him, vaguely aware of Keeley and Rebecca wolf-whistling somewhere nearby. 
Sam looks over and starts clapping, and pretty soon all the Greyhounds within the vicinity are hollering and cheering. You blush and press your hands to your cheeks but Jamie just grins. It’s the cocky, “I got the girl,” grin.
So yeah, sue you if he ended up in your bed.
What were you going to do, act like you were immune to the way he looked at you? The way he talked to you like you were the most interesting person in the room? The way his lips peppered firm kisses up your neck and across your clavicle after you sneaked outside for some “fresh air?”
No, immunity was never an option. 
Half of you said it was just a one-night stand and the other half… well the other half told you to consider the facts. 
The facts were that you knew he was into you, like full-on romantically attracted because you’d seen his text thread with Keeley.
She hadn’t shown you exactly, just left her phone unlocked on her coffee table, angled toward you while she told you she was going to make tea and it was going to take a long time.
So maybe the way he threaded your hands together while he pressed his body to yours won’t be a one-off event. Maybe you’ll get another chance to hear your name from his lips like it’s the only word he knows.
Maybe.
Except you’re awake at 2am and he’s gone; no note, no text, no nothing. You know for a fact he’s not meeting Roy, so where exactly could he have gone?
You don’t know. You just know your bed is cold and empty and there’s a strange pit in your chest. Maybe Keeley was wrong, and he didn’t like you that much. Maybe he was just looking for one night of fun.
You’d be ok with that, if only you’d known ahead of time. If only you hadn’t gotten your hopes up.
It’s a good thing you don’t work at Nelson Road because it means you can avoid Rebecca, Keeley, Jamie, and Ted for some reason, because apparently Rebecca told him everything and he’s incredibly invested in getting Jamie a “good girlfriend.”
Instead, you go to work like normal and accept your coworkers’ invitation to go out.
Kevin got you all into some incredibly popular bar because his girlfriend’s a repo baby, and you can tell from the moment you walk in that it is not your vibe. You’re just grateful you asked what to wear ahead of time.
You go to the bar and say, “Two please,” and feel someone slide into the space next to you. You turn, half expecting it to be Jamie.
It’s not, but he is attractive, objectively speaking. You down your shots and smile as dazzling as possible.
If you’re going to be here, you might as well get the most out of your night. The man next to you smiles back so you take that as an invitation to move a little closer and start flirting.
He buys you a drink and you laugh at his stupid little jokes, reaching out just a little to touch his arm. 
Your coworkers are doing there own thing and you’re debating whether or not you actually want to fuck this guy when you feel someone watching you. 
You pause a moment to try to get the room into focus but before you can, someone is shouldering their way in between you and whatever this guy’s name is.
“Alright mate, time to go,” Jamie says, and the guy says, “Jesus, sorry, didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”
“I don’t,” you slur but he’s already gone.
Jamie turns to you and says, “I’m getting you home,”
Your skin is tingly and warm and there’s a pleasant haze in your mind, but not so pleasant that you forget the fact that you’re still a little mad.
“Kevin,” you mumble as Jamie slips an arm under your shoulder.
“Yeah yeah, told that rich prick that I was getting you home safe. Recognized him from your website.”
A less-drunk you would have latched onto the fact that Jamie had looked at your website long enough to recognize some of the people you worked with. As it is, all you can think about is sleep. Which reminds you
“Why’d you leave?” you ask as Jamie helps you into the passenger seat.
Jamie stills for a moment before continuing to buckle you in. He gets into the car and sits in silence for a moment.
“Dunno,” he finally says. “It- it was too real for a moment. We’re not the same at all. You’re fucking… good. I’m not, not really.”
“Bullshit,” you reply but you succumb to sleep before Jamie can ask you what you mean.
You’re in Jamie’s car again less than twenty-four hours later. Why you agreed to meet him, you’re not sure. But here you are in a deserted parking lot at 8pm, parked as far away from streetlights as possible. Your knees are pulled to your chest, and you’re grateful you opted to wear your favorite over-large hoodie. It gives you the illusion of security, like you can hide.
Jamie on the other hand is wearing a fucking brown Gucci track suit.
“Isaac gave it to me,” he says with a shrug, in response to your raised eyebrow.
That’s been the extent of your conversation for a solid minute, ever since you got out of your car and into his. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to talk first, but you’re not going to. He’s the one who invited you, he’s the one who can figure out what to say.
He does not disappoint.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have fucking left. Don’t really know what I were thinking.”
You snort out a laugh, but his worried face falls so abruptly that you immediately try to take it back. 
You say, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. It’s just that there’s no way you don’t know what you were thinking. You’re not stupid, you don’t just accidentally leave like that. And it’s not the leaving that’s the problem, it’s the fact that you didn’t tell me. Or talk to me after at all. So I’m just stuck in my own head trying to figure out what I did wrong.”
Jamie is shaking his head before you’re even halfway done. “You’re right, I do know what I was thinking. It’s like, you’re fucking brilliant, yeah? You do all this cool shit and make a difference and everyone fucking loves you. I went on a tv show to piss of me dad.”
He pauses, staring at the steering wheel. “If I woke up in the same bed as you, I’d start thinking we could be together. That I could have something- real, like. And that isn’t gonna fucking work.” He laughs, once, but it’s void of mirth.
You squint at him. “You could have at least tried.”
Jamie moves uncomfortably in his seat as he says, “That’s how I do shit, ain’t it? Fuck it up before it can fuck me up.”
You both relapse into silence, and you take stock of the way the nighttime glow sits on Jamie’s skin. 
His features are softened, much like they looked in your dim bedroom light except this time, his eyebrows are knotted together.
You reach out to smooth them with your thumb before you can stop yourself. 
Jamie sighs and leans into your touch and you find yourself cupping his face. 
“What if we tried?” you whisper. “I bet we could do it. I’m really stubborn.”
He smiles a little at that, all wistful. “I’d do anything for you,” he responds, “Just don’t worry ‘bout it when it’s time for you to leave, yeah?”
What is it that Roy says, that you deserve someone who makes you feel like you’ve been struck by lightning?
You feel more like it’s a meteor. 
It looks pretty as it shoots across the sky, almost like it’s a star, but then it lands on you and squishes you flat. There’s no electrifying current, just the inescapable, crushing weight of a giant rock that you thought you could wish on.
Two months. You made it two months with Jamie, and it felt like you were dancing on clouds right up to the moment you tripped.
It’s always something with him. Everything’s for PR, for an angle, for the game. Your relationship… it’s smothering.  
It’s not smothering in the way you like, because let’s be real; you would be attached at his hip if you could.
But he seems to think that he can buy his way into your heart, especially during the weeks he has extra training, or an away game, or anything that cuts into your time together. 
“It’s too much,” you say through tears one afternoon. “I don’t even know what to do with half of it. You’re spending so much money on me and I’m not ungrateful, but Jamie. I don’t want things. I don’t care that you’re busy, I want you and I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who thinks they can purchase my affection.
Jamie just looks at you, nods once, and walks away. No fight, no nothing. 
You’re struck by two conflicting memories at once.
The first being his outstretched hand at the benefit, ready to pull you out of your comfort zone. 
The second, his soft voice saying, “don’t worry ‘bout it when it’s time to leave.”
As you watch his retreating figure, you fight the urge to run after him. He’s the one with the self-sabotaging tendencies. You should have realized you were going to end up here sooner or later. 
If he doesn’t even think you’re worth fighting for, then what’s the point?
You text Keeley and Rebecca, then get to your bed as fast as you possibly can.
Two months is a lot longer than most people think it is. It’s over sixty days of waking up with someone. Of texting them. Of holding them, eating meals with them, of kissing them goodnight. 
It only takes two weeks for a habit to develop and now your bed feels far too large and empty. 
Keeley’s snoring in what should be Jamie’s spot, unceremoniously sprawled out in some awful satin zebra-print pajamas. It’s better than being alone, but you’d rather have Jamie snoring next to you in some awful satin leopard-print boxers.
“Do you believe in soulmates?” you ask Rebecca. You’re laying on her floor while she eats a biscuit.
She asks, “Platonic or romantic?” so you shoot her a questioning glance. “I’m not sure about romantic soulmates, but after seeing Ted and Beard, I abso-fucking-loutely believe in platonic soulmates,” she clarifies.
“Cool,” you say, “smashing, brill, fucking superb.”
“What makes you think Jamie was your soulmate?” she asks. That makes you sit up.
“I didn’t say shit about Jamie,” you say.
Rebecca rolls her eyes. “Darling, it was very heavily implied. And anyway, who else would you be talking about? The last time you had a boyfriend was back when this club was still complete shit. So. Why do you think Jamie was your soulmate?”
“I don’t,” you respond, “I just- I don’t know, we clicked. It was weird. You know we talked before the benefit? We were at this party and… he talked to me. I was hiding because Keeley fucking left me by myself so I stole a book and was reading in the corner, and he sat next to me and started asking me questions. And-” you stop yourself.
“And,” Rebecca prompts.
“And I wish he would have fought a little more. For as great as he said I was, he just walked away like it was nothing. It feels like shit.”
Rebecca stands up only to sit down on the floor next to you. She tells you, “Men are shit with feelings. They never know what they really want until they don’t have it.”
You don’t take precautions to sneak out of Rebecca’s office because everyone has left by the time you go, so you walk down the stairs arm in arm as you giggle about something stupid.
“Oh shit, I left my phone on my desk,” she says. “Wait here while I get it?”
You grin and lean against the wall, staring down a decal of Bumbercatch.
You can feel someone watching you and you assume it’s just Declan’s cutout until something moves in your peripheral vision. 
“Jesus Christ!” you exclaim. “Jamie?”
“I weren’t trying to scare you,” he says apologetically. “Didn’t know anyone was still here. I was doing a cool down on the treadmill and lost track of time.”
“…Cool,” you reply. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to say in situations like this.
Jamie passes his water bottle from one hand to the other as you shift your weight. Neither one of you are making an effort to say anything, or an effort to leave.
“For Christ’s sake,” comes Rebecca’s voice a few steps above you. “Can you two please just tell each other how you’re fucking feeling? My god Jamie, use your big boy words for fucking once.”
Jamie looks offended for a moment but apparently Rebecca’s words ring a little bit true because he switches from offended to wistful. Again.
“I can’t with that face,” you tell him. “You look like a kicked puppy, and it’s your fault at least eighty percent of the time.”
“I’m leaving,” Rebecca says. 
“Wait, but you drove me here,” you say to her back. 
She calls, “Cheers,” with no indication that she’s listening to you.
“I can take you home,” Jamie offers.
You tilt your head at him and say, “Yeah, and I can catch a taxi. Or walk. Or anything, really.”
“I’m driving you,” he says. “Just gotta grab my bag.”
“Oh now he fights,” you mutter.
Jamie stills for a moment before heading into the locker room. He’s back so fast you wonder if he was worried about you sneaking out without him.
You’re sitting in the passenger seat, reliving all the times you’ve been here before. You resist the urge to curl up.
It’s a quiet ride over to your house and you take advantage of the fact that Jamie is actively not looking at you. You allow yourself to examine his profile out of the corner of your eye. You miss touching his face, holding his hand. Does he feel the same? Most likely not.
He pulls into your driveway and as you reach for the handle he says, “Oi.”
You still.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I really am.”
You explode. “For fucking what, Jamie? What the fuck do you think you’re sorry for? How many times are we going to do this? If one of us were going to have relationship insecurity, I would’ve assumed it’d be me. Hell, everyone thinks that I’m the insecure one. But it’s you! I don’t fucking get it, you ruin every good thing you have because you have stupid fucking thoughts and you don’t fight for what you fucking want, for fuck’s sake.”
“I want you,” he says.
“Coulda fooled me,” you shoot back.
“I do and I know I was being a twat. Went to fucking… therapy. I’m getting better, swear down.”
“Uh huh,” you say. “Bullshit.”
“That’s a fuck-ton of swear words for you,” he comments. “Been taking notes from Roy?” “Piss off,” you reply.
“That’s a yes.”
“Fine. Here’s a nice, clean sentence for you. What do you want?”
“I miss you,” he says without hesitation.
Right.
“And..?” you say.
“And I want you back.”
“Maybe,” you reply. “Possibly. I’ll put you on probation. Cook me dinner and then we’ll talk about it.”
Jamie turns off his car. “Does that mean I can come in?”
You sigh, but it’s with a smile on your face. “Against my better judgement yes, it does mean you can come in. But no funny business. At least not tonight.”
Jamie grins just a tiny bit and says, “Does cuddling count as funny business? I miss holding you?”
“We’ll see how good dinner is.” You open the car door and Jamie follows you close on your heels into your house. You think maybe this time, you’ll both get it right.
244 notes · View notes
moongreenlight · 4 months
Text
Greek mythology/the Olympians has been my hyperfixation for going on two decades now and I just… Soap as Dionysus.
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Always brings a good bottle of wine and a few rooted cuttings of ivy as a housewarming gift. If he’s fixed his attention on you, he’ll also put a few sex toys in the little bag he brings. Puts them right on top for the pleasure of seeing your scramble to try to shove them in a drawer or tuck the whole gift in the closet.
He’s a great time. Has this intoxicating way about him. Like life is a stage and he’s the director. Playful and fun, though a little too enthusiastic at times. Handsy when the two of you hang out. You assume that’s just his nature and excuse it accordingly. Hard not to, gorgeous man that he is. A divine kind of handsome. Like his features are an eons-old amalgamation of all the most beautiful features humans have ever had.
And he gets strangely possessive, even after you’ve been nudging back his wandering hands or putting your hand between his mouth and your neck all night. Borders on vindictive and aggressive if he’s not in the right headspace.
It’s a bit terrifying to see him snapping his teeth in the face of some man at the bar who had only just asked you if you’d wanted a drink. You swear later in the night you see him babbling feverishly to a group of his friends. It sounds like total gibberish, and his friends look even more confused than you feel, but his eyes are wide as saucers and his hands are flying about hazardously. You don’t think much of it after Soap pulls you by the waist to the corner booth and tips a cocktail up to your mouth.
He keeps you out until all hours of the night. Insists on staying jovial. Club-hopping to find the best crowd, best music, best conversation. Keeps you up and active for so long that the confines of reality start to become fuzzy at the edges.
Sexuality expressed through bodies writing and twisting in drunken dance. Bumping up against one another. Collecting strangers and your own sweat in fat beads on your skin that make you shiver when they get heavy enough to trail down the small of your back.
When the room is spinning enough to make you stumble just a bit and you’re unable to do anything but giggle about it, he’s somehow able to make sneaking off into the family bathroom together seem like a good idea. He seems just as drunk as you are, slinging an arm around your shoulders when you walk. Bellowing a laugh when his hand grazes your tit but making no attempt to pull it away.
It’s less easy to be oblivious when you’re in the bathroom together. The muffled music filtering through the bottom of the door. He’s pressing up against you even though now there’s no crowd to excuse his practically grinding his groin on your hip.
It smells like sweat and generic brand bathroom cleaner. You hum when he staggers to the urinal instead of griping at him about how crass it is to take a piss right in front of you. He props himself up on the wall with one hand and a moment after you hear the teeth of his zipper come undone, he lets out a throaty, satisfied groan.
You busy yourself looking in the mirror. Checking your makeup. Seeing if you look as drunk as you feel. It’s filthy. There’s a web of cracks coming from the bottom left where it looks like someone tried to send their fist through to the wall behind it. It makes you a bit dizzy to look at and you have to bend at the waist to get close enough to see the way your mascara has smudged all around your eyes.
And all of a sudden there’s a burning heat behind you. Sickly, feverish heat pressing straight into the pillows of your ass. Soap’s spidery reflection shows up just over your smile sporting a wicked grin. Teeth and eyes flashing.
You try and swat him away, all too used to his comings-on, but he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips bruisingly hard.
“C’mon, hen. Been driving me mad all night. Relax a bit. Jus’ need this. Need you. Please.”
He has to lay flat over your back to hiss in your ear. Teeth clenched like he really needs to put some effort behind his words to sound polite. Like a petulant child who’d just been reminded by their mother to practice manners.
You were practiced in batting back his advances, but for some reason his grit made you falter. His gaze seemed to be burning a hole through you in the mirror. The idea that something inside him was hitting a roaring boil that he couldn’t stop from flowing over made your brain go foggy. The opposite of sobering. His aberrant need was contagious and catching quick.
He smelled like sweat and cheap cologne and dry, sweet wine and woods. Flirty and masculine and overwhelming. And he’s warm and strong behind you, even if he’s pushing his hard cock into you.
Who were you to deny him the pleasure of snapping his hips into your backside a few times? Letting his fingers impatiently tug at the button of your jeans and hastily tug them down with your underwear until they pooled around your ankles?
It didn’t help that the sound of him sending a glob of spit into his hand made you clench around nothing. A familiar warmth gathering between your thighs that made you shift a bit to chase the momentary relief even a touch of friction could provide.
He couldn’t even afford you the decency of pretending not to see. No. Instead he points a spotlight on you and insists you perform for him again. Nudging your legs apart and pressing his thigh flush against your core while purring the filthiest things in your ear.
“Ken I jus’ needed to wear you down, mm? Thought ‘bout this before we went out. Always did get sloppy when you drink. Jus’ needed a little push. That’s it -Jesus- cunt’s so wet. Gonna take good care of her.”
And the club is so packed full of drunken, dancing bodies that hardly anyone notices the way you two stumble out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. Even though you’re still fumbling with the button of your jeans with shaking hands.
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imabeautifulbutterfly · 2 months
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congrats on 450!! I've just gotten back into my star wars hyperfixation, tis the season I suppose, and your fics have been LIFE SAVERS and so I am here to congratulate you on an incredibly well earned celebration! and to request:
7. "you're not as bad as everyone says."
28. "maybe there's a universe your there where we're friends."
with either Wolfe or Cody x fem/gender neutral (whichever you prefer)?
Thank you so much and congrats again!!! <3
Awww @hxad-ovxr-hxart that's so sweet. I'm so glad my fics have helped. That makes me so happy, and I hope you'll like the fic. I wrote with Wolffe in mind. Enjoy.
Love oo,
Friends
Warnings: Crashing, angst, death, fluff, comfort, I think that's it. If I miss anything please let me know.
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Commander Wolffe was never a man who suffered fools, he didn’t appreciate tardiness, he hated chit chat, and worst of all he hated personal questions. And somehow you managed to do all four on your first day on the Triumphant, which made you public enemy number one in Wolffe’s book. 
Every day you saw him, he simply rolled his eyes and growled each time you passed. 
You tried your best to fix it, but no matter what you did or said, it didn’t make a difference. You gave up after months of constant growls and eye rolls. Now you simply made a point to arrive on time for your shift as a communication specialist. You performed your role to the best of your ability, and did your best to stay out of his way. 
Things were going well, that was until your shuttle crashed, and the two of you were the only survivors. 
“Anything broken?” Wolffe asked after he checked on the two pilots and made his way over to you.
You shook your head, “No. I think …” you tested out each of your limbs, “I think I’m alright” you groaned as you tried to stand.
“Easy. Here,” he held out his hand to help you up, “alright?”
You nodded and followed him out of the crashed gunship, “Hmm… where are we?” You looked around trying to become aware of your surroundings.
“We dropped out of hyperspace somewhere in between, the Triumphant and our destination. Don’t worry they’ll come for us, I sent out a distress beacon.”
“How long do you think we’ll be here?”
“A day or two… maybe a week.” He went into the ship, and grabbed the emergency gear, passing one backpack to you and keeping one himself. 
“Are we going somewhere?”
“To a more defensible position, we don’t wanna be out here in case there’s Separatist droids nearby or in case there are any dangerous animals.”
You nodded and followed him, keeping pace as best you could. It was about three hours later, when you were panting and gasping for breath, “Wait … Commander, please I … I need a break.” You leaned against a boulder. 
“Alright …” Wolffe nodded, “take a break, we can rest for a minute.”
You nodded, thanking him, as you took a break, “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, you’re a civilian. You’re not used to this.”
You looked up at him as you regained your breath and took a sip of water, “You know, you’re not as bad as everyone says you are.”
Wolffe, let out a laugh, “And how bad does everyone say I am?”
“That you have a short temper, you don’t suffer fools, you don’t like civilians really…”
He turned to look at you, “Really?” You simply nodded your answer, “I wouldn’t say I don’t like civilians, I’d say … civilians don’t appreciate the sacrifices me and my brothers make.”
“I know” you answered solemnly, “I’ve heard them, when I walk around Coruscant. I’m sorry. It’s not right or fair.”
“My life has never been really fair. But, thank you.”
You stood brushing off your pants, “I’m good, we can continue.”
Wolffe simply nodded as he led the way to a cave that would provide the right shelter, he set up a defensive perimeter, while you started a fire, when you were finished he came and sat beside you nodding at your achievement. 
“Good job, didn’t think civilians knew how to start a fire”
“Well I did take basic survival training, when I first joined the GAR.”
“Impressive.” He took off his helmet and his gloves, keeping the comm alert on high in case the rescue team was trying to get a hold of them.
“Commander” you looked into the fire, lost in thought, “Do you think maybe there's a universe out there where we're friends?”
“I don’t know” Wolffe answered as he kept his own gaze on the fire, “but I can tell you, you gained a friend today.” He smirked as he looked at you, “Listen, I don’t know what I ever did to make you think I hate you, civvie. But I don’t. I am actually impressed by you. It’s not easy joining the GAR to begin with, not as a civilian, certainly not as a woman, but you continue to work harder than everyone else. You’re prompt with your reports and always pleasant with your co-workers. I’ve heard nothing but praise from everyone you work with, and even today, you put up with a lot, with barely a complaint. That’s impressive.”
You tried to hide the smile that wanted to creep on to your face, “Thank you, Commander.”
“Wolffe.”
“I’m sorry?”
“When it’s just us, you can call me Wolffe. After all, we’re friends, right?”
“That’s right … Wolffe.”
He didn’t know why but hearing you say his name, brought a smile to his lips. “Close your eyes and try to sleep” he motioned to the ground, “I’ll keep watch. You’ll be safe.”
You nodded and leaned down against the ground resting your head on the backpack, wrapping the emergency blanket around you to stay warm. “Wolffe, do you think someone got our distress signal?”
“Don’t worry civvie, Plo’buir isn’t about to leave us behind.” He looked after you and smiled, “Just relax, and close your eyes. It’ll be okay.”
You nodded, closing your eyes, “Thank you, Wolffe”
“For?”
“For being my friend,” your voice trailed off as the exhaustion from the crash, the hike, and just the anxiety of the day pulled you under. Soon enough you were snoring. 
Wolffe smiled as he watched you sleep, his heart fluttering as he took in your features. He always wondered why you had kept your distance from him, but to think you thought he hated you, made his heart hurt. It was so far from the truth. However, it was too soon to point that out. Instead, for now, he’d be your friend, and hope that in the future, your friendship could progress to something more. Maybe one day. 
“Goodnight, cyar’ika. Sweet dreams.” He whispered as he put his helmet back on and kept his blaster on his lap, keeping guard, making it his job to protect you. 
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