#they got me by the throat with their scenes

[predestinatos]

CHALLENGERS — CL16 & MV1 🏓

summary: the line between rivals and friends was blurred. and then you came. MINORS DNI!!!!

word count: 3.5k

tags: charles leclerc x fem!reader x max verstappen, implied cheating, flirting, them being horny boys, 3some vibes, heavily inspired by challengers.

warnings: smut (no sex but... everything else) dirty talking, cheating, cursing.

note: yes i've been obsessed with challengers and i thought the dynamics would look rlly fun on a fic!!! am 100% invested on making this a series! also i'm aware those are padel things in tbe picture but this is just for the cover aesthetics okay!

12:52AM

“You know I can beat him, right?” Charles’ voice sounded rough as he stood against the doorframe, confident smile spread across his lips, arms crossed against his chest, making his muscles stand out. You looked at him then, from your lying position across the hotel bed – one you shouldn’t be on – and shrugged. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

The defiance in your tone registered like a cold breeze across his skin, causing him to shiver slightly yet not break his demeanour as he moved towards you silently, lowering himself towards you on the bed now, face inches away from yours. “I didn’t know you still needed convincing.” Charles noticed how you licked your lips as you stared at his, how for a quick second you almost forgot what you were talking about as your breaths melted into each other. His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed, both of you so silent it could’ve been a scene from a nature documentary: prey seducing predator, but which is which?

“You asked” you replied, refusing to break the distance first, wanting to prove that you were stronger than he thought, that he needed something from you which he couldn’t possibly get, not anymore at least. You looked at his eyes, its bright colour now so darkened by something close to thrill over what was going on in that moment, a thrill you wanted to suppress. “Just wanted to see how good of a liar you were” Charles bit his lip, smile now growing slightly. Maybe it wasn’t thrill. Maybe it was actual amusement.

“You’re unbearable” you said, now turning your face away from him, rolling your eyes at his sheer arrogance. “You want me” he got up from bed, taking off his t-shirt as he searched for his pyjamas. His back flexed with every movement, muscles stranding out in his glistening skin. He smiled knowingly, because although he could not see your face, he knew you were looking. He always knew.

“Brave of you to think so” you shot back, getting up as well, grabbing your bag from the small armchair placed in the corner of the room. Rushing towards the hotel door, his frame stood between you and it – the ability to breathe, the absence of guilt, the absolution of uncommitted sins. “See, you’re still a bad liar” his bare chest rose and fell in front of you and Charles wished he could say he wasn’t about to crumble before you but that wouldn’t be true either. His confidence was only partially real, for he did not have the strength to do more than this, to test you and push you only this far – part of him knew you couldn’t resist, but he was never entirely sure.

YEARS EARLIER

The country club was boring. You didn’t know why your family insisted on going apart from trying to prove how rich they were, something which got exhausting too quickly. Sitting at the table, you played with the olive in your martini as your dad talked about “business” and your mom laughed about something.

The sun warmed your skin as your bare legs welcomed the heat gladly, the only source of some amusement in that place. It was tiring. Your brain felt like it could explode from lack of stimulation. Minutes passed at the speed of years. You had to do something, quick, or else- “I’m going for a walk” you said suddenly, or a voice said, part of your brain who was even more tired than you thought. Your family stood, staring at you briefly before nodding and continuing their tasks, like robots who were well instructed to continue their mission but not used to abnormalities.

Max was sweating. We would feel disgusting, unclean, even, were it not for how focused he was on the game, on his friend – rival, for a few minutes – in front of him. The tennis ball travelled from his racket to Charles in something near to slow motion for him.

Charles was amused. He always was, for he loved playing almost more than winning. He loved getting under his friend’s skin, seeing how hard he tried to beat him while his careless attitude ate him with each hit he took. There was something god-like about his commitment, his seriousness, that Charles admired, if not even envied. He couldn’t care as much about things the way his friend did – he was passion, Max was reason. That’s the way they always worked, and you could see it in the way they played, hear it in the way they grunted as they hit the ball with their utmost force.

“Okay let’s take a break” Charles said, throwing his racket carelessly on the floor as he walked towards the end of the field, towards his water bottle. Max stood in place, looking at his friend, wondering if he looked as disheveled as him – dark hair glued to his skin, cheeks red and a constant frown on his face from the sun’s insistence on affecting them. “It’s 30-all! You can’t just ask for a break when it’s 30-all!” his complaints were dismissed with a shrug of shoulders. “I just did”

Max inhaled heavily, used to this behaviour yet not immune to how much it annoyed him, and on his exhale, he felt his friend’s hands on his shoulders, massaging them gently. “Relax, don’t be so tense all the time,” Charles whispered, slight irony laced in his tone as he buried his hands in his friend’s warm shoulders from the heat.

“Don't stop now, I was enjoying it” your voice broke through them unexpectedly, causing them to turn their eyes towards you simultaneously. Max stared at you, his eyes locked on your teasing ones. But it was Charles who spoke first, in an attempt to match your tone. “And who are you, exactly?” Though you answered his friend, your eyes remained on Max's green ones, on the shy smirk growing slowly across his lips. The hands previously on his shoulders fell across them, brushing his back and finally leaving him altogether, as if melting from the heat. He barely noticed. Maybe he didn’t notice it at all. “I'm Charles” he walked towards you confidently, leaning against the railing that separated the court from the bleachers, one eye closed in a permanent blink due to the sun. You got up, looking, for the first time, at the dark haired man closer to you. Moving slowly towards him as you climbed down the stairs, you felt his defiant gaze, so different from his friend’s yet equally as alluring to you. Now as close to him as you could, your hand on the railing, mere inches away from his arm, you spoke. “And your friend over there?” Charles looked back, as if trying to recall who you could be referring to, prolonging a moment unnecessarily, only to allow his arm to brush against your hand as he turned back towards you, head tilted. “Why do you want to know?” Max’s racket felt cold against his burning skin, the image of his friend's toned back and tanned neck directed towards you, with a short skirt and tight top, causing him to wonder if he was hallucinating, overheating, going crazy. “Charles, she wants us to play more.”

10:45PM

He liked watching you, how you moved so softly, hands caressing your legs as you applied mosturizer. It was almost religious, how your breath guided his unintentionally, how he forgot everything for a few seconds, maybe minutes, maybe hours.

He leaned against the bathroom sink as you placed your foot on top of the toilet seat to better access some parts of your skin you could not otherwise reach. You felt his gaze, still so similar to the one he first used when he first layed his eyes on you – the same intensity, mind over matter debate circulating through his mind as he analyzed every inch of your skin.

“I’m going to win tomorrow” Max said from behind you; a certainty in his voice that made you chuckle with something close to frustration. You muttered an ‘okay’ as you continued your movements, your bracelets clinking against each other. “I’m serious. You know I’m serious” he repeated, frustrated at your nonchalantness, at your dismissal of his convictions.

“Don’t be patronizing” you finally said, turning around as you spread the remains of the cream on your arms and hands. Though you were in underwear and he was clothed, he felt vulnerable in front of you. The ring adorning both of your fingers didn’t make your presence any easier to bear over the years, despite his attempts at pretending it did.

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrows now raised, turning his head to follow your frame which walked towards the hotel bed. “You know what I mean, Max” your voice was stern, your head always high despite you being shorter, as if he was the one who had to look up to you, though he hadn’t, not really.

“You weren’t like this with him” he looked down now, his profile outlined by the bathroom lights. You admired his attractiveness, his intentional care to be clean, precise, as close to perfect as he could. You admired how his expressions never oscilated between extremes, or at least how he managed to hide it so well if they did.

“You don’t need me to tell you these things the way he does” you sighed. You had had this conversation, or something close to it too many times to count. “You have the girl, you have the championship, what else do you want, Max? You want me to constantly tell you you’re a winner, you’re a big fucking boy who’s so so good?” you continued, more aggressively than you perhaps intended, though it did not matter, not really, at least.

He looked back at you now, though he dare not move. His throat bobbed up and down now, and you noticed how his knuckles whitened slightly as he held the sink tightly. “Maybe I do” it was almost a whisper, the way he said it, trying to hide from the attention he so craved, his body manifesting more than he wanted to show.

You looked further down his body, to where your words seemed to affect him most, though he remained looking at you. You admired his silent boldness in contrast to Charles’ loud one. "I chose you, Max" your voice sounded velvety to him, almost driving him insane as he felt his cock hardening. He felt ridiculous. Maybe he was; his obsession with your approval was also an obsession with beating Charles' appeal to you. He might have won many battles but Max had won the war.

YEARS EARLIER

Charles was better - better looking, better skilled, and effortlessly so. Max thought all of this as he stared at the back of his friend's slightly burned neck, standing behind him in front of a bedroom door.

"Ok so, let's not fuck this up" Charles said, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a match. "She clearly wants us"

"Us?" Charles turned around at the question, incredulity written across his face. "Yes, us. Now which one she wants more... We'll find out"

Before he could protest at his friend's unapologetic confidence, the door opened. You stood there, oversized t-shirt being worn as a nightgown, smiling at the two boys.

Both of them frozen, lusting over you so obviously it was almost insulting, were you not turned on by the way their gaze explored your body. Charles had a signature smirk that did not care to hide where his imagination was roaming as he stared at your bare legs; Max, on the other hand, was overcome by a darkness that almost intimidated you, studying every inch of your body hungrily.

"You're just going to stand there?" you asked, half laughing, waking the boys up from their trance. They both rushed inside excitedly, causing you to giggle subtly. It was flattering, how much they seemed to crave your sheer attention.

“So…” you asked, moving to sit on the carpeted floor, trying to make them comfortable – which didn’t need much effort, as they seemed to make themselves at home promptly, Charles’ unbuttoned shirt exposing his chest to you, and Max’s own t-shirt was so tight it left little to the imagination.

“You liked to see us play” Max started, a newly found confidence reaching him, a smile matching it perfectly. Maybe you were the one to give it to him, your eyes landing on him as if daring him to speak, him specifically. Charles’ opened up a bottle of a cheap drink he found at the liquor store they had ran to just hours before, as they realized they might actually have a chance with you.

“I did” you answered with a nod, now looking at Charles, who offered you a glass, your fingers brushing his purposefully.

“So much that you wanted more” Max continued, so factual it could pass as arrogance – though it resulted in a blush from you. You admired his sudden calculated boldness, the way he brought the cup to his lips after saying those words, as if he had commented on the state of the weather.

“And you gave me more” you replied, trying to match his – maybe their – tone.

“Oh, we haven’t given you nearly enough” Charles now stepped in. He couldn’t help himself, not with you in front of him, not with the small room closing in on him as he felt your need grow along with his, along with Max’s, along with the cups and the drink and the sheets and the carpeted floor.

“You two do this a lot?” you asked, daringly, though the question had crossed your mind throughout the day. Was this enticing to them? Sharing a woman, pleasuring her together, driving her mad with their games, their touch and words?

They let out a soft laugh together, almost synchronized. They were both beautiful, though in opposite ways – Max’s features were hard despite his soft, quiet demeanor, while Charles’s were softer, more carefully sculpted despite his own careless behavior.

“What, go after the same girl?” Charles asked, looking at Max, who looked at him as well. They found it amusing and rather ironic, really. Everything was a competition to them, even if nothing got in the way of their friendship. What made you especially exciting was how they both wanted you, and how both of them were aware of that fact. They both know the game was on the minute you showed up, like a match they fought in the court.

Upon your nod, Max decided to speak up. He had to; it was somehow agreed and decided who would say what, an unspoken rule he seemed to have made with Charles but couldn’t quite remember. “No, not at all” he laughed, cup now empty as Charles grabbed the bottle and filled it some more.

“What he means is… You’re just that attractive” the brown-haired man spoke. Was he flirting with you, or were they both doing so, even if it came only from his voice? You couldn’t help but feel your whole body responding to how they looked at you, how they seemed to crave you with indescribable need.

“What about you two?” you asked now, blaming the alcohol – though you had barely drunk anything. Their eyes went from you to each other again, awkward and rapidly, as they blushed slightly.

“No, I mean… no we haven’t” Max said, causing a soft chuckle to come out of Charles, his friend’s shyness over the topic making amusing him. It’s not like they haven’t thought about it – not at all – but they hadn’t told each other this. This concept lived in their heads, and none of them dared to bring it up, though they had seen each other naked and crossed lines most so-called friends probably wouldn’t. But neither of them had the conversation about what it meant, or what it could mean, because they didn’t feel the need to. Not until now.

You shrugged it off, finishing your drink in a single gulp. Looking at those two men, you realized you couldn’t quite decide what to do next – you wanted to do so many things that felt too forbidden to speak.

You looked up at Max, his eyes so needy it made your blood pulsate in your veins, the certainty that he would do anything for your touch right in that moment causing you to shiver. Slowly, you moved towards him, his face so close to yours that he dared not move, not until your hands reached his neck and pulled him towards you, kissing him.

That seemed to shift something in him, his own arms holding you as if scared you’d leave, as if wanting to consume you all, taste all of you. His hand instinctively grabbed your waist, though you knelt on the ground and couldn’t – wouldn’t – go anywhere.

“Oh, fuck” Charles said, looking at the both of you. The sight should make him jealous, but it did quite the opposite. He felt aroused, more than he wanted to admit, watching Max controlling your body and movements, eyebrows furrowed from pleasure, as your own lips moved messily and erratic against his, not caring about how it looked. You were putting on a show for him as you savored all of Max – Max was simply savoring all of you, for he had forgotten his friend was even there.

You pulled away, however, now deciding you had to try the other man, who seemed to be in a state of pure bliss over you, your attitude, your movements. You barely moved towards him – you didn’t need to – as he rushed towards you his hand resting on your thigh and grabbing it tightly. He was more aggressive, more assertive and confident in his kiss. He didn’t let go of himself the way Max did, but then again he barely held himself back at all when it came to you.

Max was staring. He knew he was staring but he couldn’t look away. The sight was erotic, something out of his deepest, darkest fantasies – your hair being slightly pulled by Charles’ strong grip, your own hands on his cheeks as his tongue travelled across your mouth. Suddenly, his kissing went down to your neck, and you held him there as you looked directly at Max.

Just your look could have driven him insane, right there and then, but he wouldn’t let it happen. He was hungry for more of you, more of whatever was going on, wanted it to last as long as it possibly could. “Come here” you called for him, who obliged immediately.

At first, he mimicked Charles, but soon his mouth was on yours again and you felt both boys’ mouths on your body, the amount of sensations fogging your mind as you let them both consume you. You pulled Charles mouth to yours, joining the kiss you were sharing with Max. The three of you kissed – messily, sloppily, completely letting the primal, animalistic part of you loose.

You wanted to touch yourself. Wanted them to touch you, feel how wet you were, savoring all of you. You wanted them to touch each other for you – for your gaze, for your entertainment and fulfillment, the way they were doing so now, as you pulled away and watched their own mouths against each other.

Max was hard. He couldn’t think anymore, dizzy from the caresses he was feeling on his body, from the insanity of the moment, from everything and nothing. Charles was drunk – drunk on the intense rush flowing through him, from how hard he knew he was, from how fucking spectacular everything seemed in that moment.

You were in complete bliss. The two men before you were in absolute awe of you, yearning for you with fervent need, letting themselves go to the point where they even yearned for each other. It was time to stop it.

“Okay” you said, snapping both of them back to reality instantly. Both Max and Charles were shocked at how they felt nothing close to shame over the moment. In fact, they felt exhilarated, ready to keep going, to prolong the moment with each other, with you, forever. “It’s time to go” you continued, watching the glow disappear from their faces as they breathed hard, chests falling and rising rapidly. “What?” they asked in unison, something close to innocence returning to their faces.

“We’ll do this again, right?” Charles asked, getting up after you did, with Max following. He was aware that he was hard, his cock rubbing against the fabric of his boxers and shorts uncomfortably. And he was also aware that you were turned on, though he could only imagine how soaked you actually were – a picture that didn’t help his situation.

“Sure” you answered, seeing their gleeful faces one last time before adding, as you walked them to the door “one of you will. The one who wins tomorrow”, closing it on them before you could see the smile turn into a frown.

#max verstappen #charles leclerc #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1blr #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen smut #formula one x you #formula one x reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 smut #lestappen #challengers

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

congrats on the 1k follower count Hype!! Here’s my ficlet request: M (“this can’t be happening… it’s just a dream..”) + 🕯️ + hurt/comfort + taking placing in the (You got me) in the palm of your hand-verse!

Thank you so much! ❤️ This was a fun, fluffy write, I hope you enjoy it. 🔮✨️

Fate don't know you (like I do)

Words: 988

Rated: T

Tags: Established relationship; No UD AU; anniversary; idiots in love; Steve Harrington is a sweetheart; Fade to black

Notes: Set in the same universe as (You got me) in the palm of your hand

Steve is just lighting the last candle when he hears the key in the apartment door. He quickly shakes out the match, then settles crossed-legged on the living room floor. 

He can hear Eddie bustling around in the hallway - his keys dropping into the bowl, the thud of his work boots coming off. It leaves him with just enough time to smooth out his costume and arrange his hair. Just enough time to look at his work and wonder if maybe he overdid it a notch. But then the doorknob turns and it’s too late for doubts.

Eddie shuffles into the room without switching on the light. His overalls are half-unzipped already, revealing a long, pale triangle of his throat and chest, the black ink of his tattoos. His hands are trying to free his dark curls from the clutches of his hair tie. He’s muttering under his breath, something about stupid, fucking alternators and stupid, fucking customers. 

He’s halfway across the room before he realizes the sofa isn’t in its usual spot. 

He pauses, one hand still in his hair, incredulous surprise creeping into his features as he takes in the room. The tablecloths and bed sheets draped over the walls. The way the furniture has been shoved into the corners to make space on the floor. The pillows scattered across the ground, and the sofa table at the center of the room, hidden under another tablecloth. The empty glass jars that have been placed on every available surface, meticulously covered in colorful parchment paper, candles glowing softly from within. 

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, his eyes land on Steve. 

“What the fuck?” he murmurs, eyes raking over his billowey shirt and the velvet curtain-turned-cape, the fucking leggings and the cardboard crown with the fake gems. Steve smiles and rubs at his prickling neck. 

“Um, surprise?” he says. “Happy anniversary.” 

Eddie takes a step towards him, then pauses again. His throat bops as he swallows, but his face still shows nothing but confusion. 

“What is all this?” he asks. His voice cracks around the last syllable. Steve suppresses a grin and leans back on his hands. 

“Well, I wanted to do something special, so I thought I’d recreate the scene of our first meeting.”

“We met in highschool, you dork,” Eddie snarks, but he does sink down on one of the pillows opposite Steve. His eyes continue to roam over their surroundings, large and brown and full of wonder. “Where’d you even get all this stuff?” 

“Where we fell in love, then,” Steve says impatiently. “It turned out great, didn’t it? I borrowed the sheets and the pillows and stuff from Claudia. Remember that super important family matter in Hawkins two weeks back?” 

“The one where you told me not to come.” 

Steve nods enthusiastically. “Exactly. I would have loved to have actual lanterns, too, but getting that many would’ve been way too expensive, so I had to improvise. I think they turned out okay, considering what I was working with, but if you tell me to eat another fucking PB and J sandwich for the next year or so I’ll- … hey, whoa, what’s the matter?” 

Because Eddie has finally turned and is looking at him, and his entire face is twitching with raw emotion. His hands are trembling in his lap. His eyes are still bright - too bright in the low candlelight, way too bright, and shit, shit, shit, what's going on? 

Steve is up on his knees and slipping into Eddie’s space just in time to brush the first tears away.

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. He swats Steve's hands away to rub his arm over his own face, but doesn’t pull out of his embrace. “Fuck, I'm sorry.” 

“No,” Steve stammers. “No, Eddie, I am sorry. I mean, I dunno what for, exactly, but I must've done something wrong for you to-” 

“I thought you were leaving me, you stupid dickhead,” Eddie blurts. 

Steve's words wheeze to a stop. 

“What?” he says when his brain finally manages to reboot itself. “I mean how- … Why would you even think that?” 

Eddie rolls his pretty eyes at him, but there's a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Oh, gee, Stevie, why would I think that? You've been acting all secretive, going back to Hawkins and refusing to tell me what you're doing there, locking yourself in the bedroom for hours, hiding bags full of bed linen in your car-” 

“Aw, what, you saw those?” 

“You're not as subtle as you think, big boy.” 

Eddie winks at him and leans in for a peck on the lips, but when he pulls away, his face is serious again. 

“And also because …” he mutters, pulling a strand of hair from his ponytail to twist it between his fingers. “I dunno. Sometimes, I still look at you and I think … this isn't happening. It's all in my head. It's just a dream. Because there’s now way, is there? No way I’ve scored the prettiest, sweetest, most romantic doofus in that shitty little hellhole for a boyfriend. No way that you’re here with me, that you’d ever want me like this.”

“What?” Steve hums, splaying a firm hand over the base of Eddie’s neck to draw him closer. “You mean like this?” 

He only allows them to break the kiss when they’re both flushed and gasping for air. Eddie’s eyes are still bright when he looks at him, but this time, it’s the good kind of bright. 

“Can’t believe you thought that,” Steve murmurs, pulling the zipper of Eddie’s overalls further down with one deft hand. “You honestly didn’t see this coming?” 

Eddie huffs a laugh against his lips. “For the millionth time, honey: Not actually psychic.” 

“Well, good,” Steve smiles, slipping the overall off Eddie’s shoulders and pushing him down onto the cushioned floor. “That means you also don’t know what else I have planned for tonight.”

More celebration ficlets

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #hype's 1k follower ficlets

[gcslingss]

heart to heart. colt seavers.

summary: the last two days were being especially shitty. your close friend colt invites you over to a scene shoot, and suddenly everything becomes a little bit better.

pairing: colt seavers x gn!reader

warnings: heavy fluff, slight angst, kissing, mild swearing.

word count: 1.8k

notes: firstly, yes, the fic's name is mac demarco's song. i recommend listening to it while reading this. secondly, i had a terrible day today, thus the birth of this fic. hope you guys enjoy :)

p.s: colt is the sweetest guy ever. i wish he was real.

Today had been the worst day of the week.

You’d been told off, looked down at, or backhandedly insulted by nearly everyone you spoke to, and that didn’t leave the best feeling in you by the time it was nearly midnight and you were still awake, staring at the ceiling of your room.

Even your mum had called you clingy and ignored you, and your neighbour had started to pretend you didn’t exist, ignoring your attempts to talk to him, to give him the cake you’d made that afternoon, and he made sure to make you see how much of a good time he was having with his girlfriend.

And to top it all off, your best friend hadn’t contacted you in a week. You knew he was a stuntman and therefore was often busy, but that didn’t mean he could completely ignore you.

You really didn’t know what you’d done wrong to be having such a shitty day.

that’s when your phone pinged beside your pillow. You wouldn’t have checked it, but it pinged with the special sound you’d set for Colt Seavers.

What the fuck? There was no way Colt was texting after an entire fucking week.

You were bitter about it, but not enough to ignore it. So you picked up the phone, and saw two new texts from him in the lock screen preview.

Hi :)

You’re probably sleeping right now, but I’m way too excited not to tell you right now

You waited to see where he was going with this. A minute later, the third text came.

We’re shooting a really special scene for the movie I’m part of tomorrow - I have a big role

And then another one.

D’you wanna come? It would be so cool if you did

You would’ve been lying if you said you didn’t feel your heart warm up when you read that, a smile tugging at your lips. Any irritation you felt for him melted away.

You didn’t hesitate to properly open the text and send him a quick reply.

I’m up, shockingly

Yeah, I’d love to come :]]

There was an enthusiastic response, and then he went offline. 

Well. 

At least there was something to look forward to now.

You placed the phone aside and shuffled into the covers of your bed. You needed sleep if you were going to support him right tomorrow.

… … …

“-and apparently it’s some sort of sci-fi movie, and he’s got a whole lot of-“

“Sorry, I kinda need to go.”

And just like that, your so-called childhood friend walked away, eyes still glued to her phone’s screen, still giggling, not bothering to ever give you a wave or second look.

You stared at her leaving figure rather desolately, feeling numb, yet highly irritated. It only took a few seconds for the irritation to simmer down into severe self-doubt.

Were you annoying? Is that why nobody wanted to talk to you? 

Did you say too much? Or were you not interesting enough? 

What the hell was everyone’s problem?

The only who’d shown any signs of tolerating you recently was Colt, but there was this heavy feeling in your heart that even he was being fake. 

Maybe you shouldn’t go to the shoot. He probably only invited you as a courtesy. he probably didn’t even want you there.

Like a fucking sign from the sky, your phone pinged, and a new message from him read-

Hope you didn’t forget you’ve got an appointment with me today doofus

You didn’t want to laugh, but it bubbled through your throat anyway, and something akin to the feeling of holding a warm candle on a winter day spread through your fingers.

He was so annoying.

… … …

You hadn’t moved a single muscle out of your little square for the past 2 hours, your arms stiff by your sides, your hands anxiously fiddling with each other, your bottom barely touching the chair you were given, and your eyes downcast, staring emptily at the sand.

There had been 3 takes of Colt’s super-actiony ‘falling from the sky’ stunt to be approved by the director. 

It was break time now, and all the present actors and the director had retreated to their trailers. the only people outside were some of the snacking stuntmen, two extras fanning themselves, and you, too absorbed in your self-deprecating thoughts to have even realized the shoot was on break.

“You alright?”

Your neck could’ve snapped with the speed you looked up at, and you physically felt your face muscles cramp when you shifted expressions from despairing to absolutely peachy in less than a second.

“Hey! Yeah, I’m good,” you said, forcing a smile, “Just peachy.”

No. That word should’ve stayed in your head. Fuck.

Colt frowned, smiling almost suspiciously, “When have you ever used that word out loud?”

“…Just now,” you unconvincingly said. You were far too tired to come up with a good response.

“Was I good?” he asked, brushing past it, and you nodded, the smile becoming a little bit more genuine than before. 

“You were great.”

He smiled too, and then observed you for a moment, his eyes searching, searching for any sign that you weren’t okay.

That was the plain truth, but you couldn’t let him know - not on his big day. 

“I’m okay, Colty,” you said, patting him on his shoulder. You could see the extras watching your interaction, and your skin prickled.

“I’m gonna get going now, okay?” you said, standing up as stiff as ever, and turned, only to feel Colt’s hand pull on your wrist, stopping you.

“What?” you whined. Colt turned you by the shoulders to face you and watched your face, and you tried to ignore the way his lips formed the softest, fondest smile as he said, “Don’t go yet, c’mon.”

“You…you’re going to be busy, and I probably have something waiting for me at home, and I don’t want to imp-“

“D’you wanna talk for a bit? Maybe in Tom’s trailer?”

It became clear to you that he was not planning on letting you leave yet. 

You thought about how tired you were, mentally and physically. Your brain hurt from all the buzzing, and your muscles hurt from the constant rigidity.

But then you thought about Colt, and his pretty smile, and his big blue eyes, and his husky laughter, and your mouth mumbled a soft “Okay.”

Colt nodded, and slung an arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked across the set towards the trailers.

… … …

“So Tom doesn’t mind if you use his trailer?”

“I mean, it’s not like he knows about it, so…”

You laughed and punched Colt in the arm, causing him to make a face that made you laugh harder.

But then the laughter died down, and your brain started buzzing again. You went silent, a dormant smile still on your face.

Colt noticed.

“I can tell when you’re feeling shitty,” he murmured, and as his hand slid into yours, you wondered how he even managed to use the exact word you used to describe your day.

You shook your head and shrugged, muttering a “I’m fine,” but then he scooted closed to you and began to rub gentle circles on your palm, uttering your name so softly, and something in you snapped.

Tears came to your eyes as your head drooped and you softly sobbed, throat feeling awfully tight.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice muddled, “I didn’t mean to cry, I’m sorry…”

“Hey, no, c’mon,” you heard him say softly, and his two arms wrapped around you, engulfing you in a hug you wished you’d gotten ages ago.

His fingers carded through your hair, his left hand held you close, and you could feel his lips by your temple, silent but reassuring.

You cried for an entire six minutes, because every time you told yourself to stop, the nonchalant gaze of your neighbour or the sharp words of your mum flashed in your mind and the tears came back twice as heavy.

Colt let you cry, and didn’t say a word about how you were drenching his jacket in tears, his little movements being the only thing keeping you from collapsing in your head.

When the weight you’d been feeling the entire day seemed to finally disappear, you pulled away, but only partly, still seeking Colt’s warmth.

“You alright?” he asked, voice softer than a whisper, and you felt so relieved when you smiled so naturally, and nodded.

“Yeah.” You wiped away the tear streaks on your cheeks. “I just… had a really bad few days. Everyone sounds a little extra rude.”

“I hope I’m not on the list,” he said, and you chuckled, shaking your head.

“Of course not,” you said. “You made everything better, if anything.”

“Well, I’m glad.”

You looked up at him. His gaze was keen, concerned, and so warm. His fingers were still caressing your palm. 

What a wonderful creature he was.

You found yourself leaning in and kissing him, something he most certainly did not expect, but the  faint sigh he elicited told you he didn’t mind it whatsoever. 

He kissed you back, harder.

Shit.

The heat of his mouth, the feeling of his chapped lips against yours, his large hands cupping your face, and the little sounds he made when you brought his head close seemed to complete the healing of your tired heart, and after what seemed like an eternity, the two of you broke away.

His eyes were fixed on you, flustered, but appreciative now. His face was flushed. 

After a moment’s silence, he looked down at his watch.

“Tom’s gonna be here any minute,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and hesitating. “We should leave this little hellhole.”

“Yeah. Okay.” It was an automatic response, because your brain really wasn’t functioning.

You got down the trailer, and thankfully no one spotted either of you, because of how Tom liked his privacy. 

“There’s a little bit of the scene left,” Colt explained. “They probably don’t need me, but I should go check it out.”

“Of course. Yeah. I-I should probably head home too. I really enjoyed watching you stunt, by the way. It was great.” You gave him a a pat on his back. 

“Good. That’s good.”

Colt nodded, giving you one final grin, and then turned to leave.

No, wait.

“...Colt?” you called out. 

He stopped in his tracks and spun around. He looked expectant.

“Yeah?”

You didn’t know if you were crossing any lines with what you were going to say, but at that moment, you didn’t exactly care. 

“I love you,” you said, and the words came so easily. “And thank you.”

You could see Colt’s breathing hitch, his chest raised mid-breath. Then, slowly breathing out, he murmured the words “I love you too” back, before he asked-

“Could I, um, come over tonight, maybe? I’m gonna be free,so....”

You’d forgotten anything and everything that had annoyed you at this point. All you could hear in your head was Colt now.

“Yeah, of course. Please.”

He grinned at your response, and he gave you a little goodbye wave, before walking away.

Two little hearts became whole that moment.

#colt seavers #colt seavers x reader #colt seavers fic #the fall guy #the fall guy fic #ryan gosling #ryan gosling fic #my fics #alecfics #i almost cried writing this #Youtube

[fallinginvictus]

tw: mention of Tilda and Drake

part of a scene that I wrote for something else but then just never continued

Aaron is not a reliable narrator and this is just how in the story he feels about things.

Later, Aaron wouldn't be able to recall how it came to this, how anger started simmering inside of his stomach, boiling his organs, vapour crawling under his skin, melting his flesh. He gritted his teeth then, the sound echoing inside the quiet room, his hands clenched into fists by his sides, his nails digging into his palms until they hurt, until they bled, as he tried to focus on something else, trying to keep his boiling anger from shattering his ribcage and destroying everything in its path.

They were sitting in Betsy's office, the couch soft under Aaron's weight, a smoking mug of hot chocolate sitting in front of them. Andrew was holding a blue one in his hands, Neil a yellow one. Aaron didn't want to drink her hot chocolate, he didn't want to delude himself into thinking that he was safe and warm, that he could relax and let go. Aaron didn't feel safe, didn't feel warm, his body was tense, the tips of his fingers cold.

They had been going to Betsy for a while, trying to fix what had never once been whole, their relationship but a porcelain plate found one rainy day on the side of a crowded street, shattered but pretty. How could they ever be able to fix it when they had no idea of how it had looked like when it had been whole.

Betsy's was Andrew's, he wasn't Aaron's. How could Aaron trust her judgement, how could he ever confide in her?

Whatever I say, he always thought. Whatever me and Andrew will talk about, she will always pick his side. She will always be his.

“Why is he here, anyways,” he asked when his anger hadn't yet reached the surface, interrupting Neil in the middle of a sentence.

“Do you even want to be here?” Neil spat back as he turned towards Aaron.

“With you? No.”

“Okay why don't we-”

“No,” Neil interrupted Betsy's calm voice. “Why doesn't Aaron talk for a change? It's been months of them coming here together and not once has Aaron put in any effort.”

“How would you even know?” Aaron replied as the agner started to bubble. “And why would you even care? It has nothing at all to do with you.”

“Because I actually care about Andrew and for whatever reason he seems to want to patch things up with his ungrateful and selfish brother.”

“Ungrateful?” Aaron snarled, turning sharply towards Neil.

“This is not how we do things here,” Betsy said, trying to calm them down. “Let's discuss why you think-”

“Andrew has done everything in his power to keep you safe from your mother, all he ever did was for you, to protect you because you couldn't protect yourself and yet here you still are, resenting him for it.”

“I'm sorry, should I have thanked him on my knees for killing my mother?” he asked as the boiling anger mixed with his melted organs started to rise up in his throat.

“He killed his own mother for you, he-”

“It wasn't his mother!” Aaron spat out, the words tumbling out of throat and splattering on the ground.

“Aaron-”

“She was mine. My mum,” he whispered as he got up from the couch. “He was willing to live his life in agony as Drake abused him just so that he could have a loving mother. The only reason he left was because he was scared of me getting hurt. That's what he said last time. Not to save himself, but to save me. We are the same.”

Andrew went still on the couch as the words left Aaron's mouth.

Neil chuckled humorlessly, “Don't you dare-”

“Tell the truth? He wanted a mother's love more than anything else and was willing to be subjected to the worst kind of pain just to have it. He didn't kill his mum, because Tilda was never his. She was mine,” the lump in his throat made his words come out in a chocked sound, his hands shaking as anger kept flowing in his veins. "It was easy to kill her because he never cared about her in the first place. The difficult part about your mother hurting you is that it's your own mother hurting you. That's why you don't fight back, why you don't leave, because no matter how much it hurts, she's still your mum and you still love her. It was easy for Andrew because it was just some woman. I could fight a stranger on the street if they attacked me. I didn't fight back, not because I didn't know how to fight or how to defend myself, but because I didn't want to.” A second passed. “I'm grateful that he saved me, that he risked his own life to make sure I could be safe and unharmed. But stop fucking acting as if I'm insane and pathetic for mourning my mother, for being upset that she died because of me, that-”

“She didn't die because of you,” Andrew said, the cup of hot chocolate still in his hand, his eyes on Aaron.

“She's dead because you killed her. You killed her to save me. She died because of me.”

“She died because she was a bad person who hurt her son,” Andrew said as he placed his mug on the table in front of him.

“That's irrelevant. That's not the point,” Aaron shook his head as his anger started to evaporate.

“We all made our choices. She chose to be a terrible human being, I chose to kill her. I'm not going to apologise.”

“I don't fucking want you to,” Aaron said inside a breath. “I want you and your boyfriend to stop looking down on everyone who doesn't feel the way you do, doesn't think the way you do. God forbid I loved my mother and I sometimes miss the mum who loved me. You never even met that side of her, so you have nothing to miss.”

“Aaron, Neil and Andrew don't look down on you-”

“Don't they? Don't you Neil?”

Neil stayed quiet, his brows furrowed, his lips a straight line.

“You call Kevin a coward. You act as if me being upset over my abuser dying because of me makes me pathetic, you-”

“She didn't die because of you,” Andrew said again between gritted tweeth.

“Stop focusing on that,” Aaron exploded. “That's not what matters now!”

“It matters to me,” Andrew said, his tone flat, his face unreadable.

“Why does that matter to you?” Betsy asked, her eyes turning towards Andrew.

“See?” Aaron whispered as a tear finally made its way down his cheek. “You only care about him. I just told everyone here something that matters to me and yet all that matters is what Andrew thinks, what he feels, why he feels that. I think we should stop coming here if all that we do is try to see what Andrew feels and me apologising for everything.”

#aaron minyard #andrew minyard #twinyards #betsy dobson #neil josten #aftg fanfic #aftg

[lesbianwriter]

“I can’t love you.” Hero said.

Her voice was gentle…tender, even…but that did nothing to soften the blow.

“Why not?” Villain shook her head, clutching the bed sheets. “You tell me now? Were you messing with my head last night, and is that why you choose to wait until now?” Her eyes narrowed, and her fingers dug harder into the sheets, her knuckles turning white.

“I…I have an image to protect—last night was a slip-up, Villain, surely you of all people know what it’s like to make a mistake. I wasn’t trying to hurt you; however, I have responsibilities and have to keep a clean image.”

Typical heroes.

She turned her head, facing the floor as her cheeks heated up and her throat burned with every horrible word she wanted to fling at her nemesis. She had been used. Used.

“You’re the worst.” Was all she could force out.

The shame threatened to swallow her alive. If only the sheets could suck her in so that she’d never have to see that perfect, pearly smile again.

Hero raised a brow, her muscular arms crossed. “Says the woman who tried to topple the city a few nights ago. Look,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry, is that what you want to hear? I do like you, but I can’t…love you.”

“Because I’m a villain, or because I’m a woman?” Villain retorted indignantly.

The venom was back in her voice.

As Hero deserved.

Her gaze flicked to the window and she considered yanking the curtains open, showing the whole street below the penthouse the scene, the spectacle, the pathetic little stage where Villain was the puppet and Hero was the one playing with the strings.

“Don’t be immature.” Hero’s spine stiffened.

“I’m immature? You played me for a fool! And then you expect me to, what, be calm about it?!” Villain stormed up to her feet and gathered her clothes from the floor.

There was no trusting heroes.

All of them, every last one, was a liar. Her biggest mistake was thinking that Hero would be any different, that someone like Hero born with a silver spoon in her mouth would understand her…or even love her. Every secret, stolen moment was a lie. And last night was the worst one of all.

“I didn’t plan for last night to escalate the way it did, Villain. Sweetheart, look—“

“Don’t you dare call me ‘sweetheart’.” Villain snarled, shoving her jacket on over her body and zipping it all the way up. “You don’t love me, you won’t ever love me, I think I got the memo.”

Hero sighed, running a hand through her hair as she shook her head. “I made a poor choice, I messed up, I didn’t mean to string you along like that. Just…I wanted to be with you even once. One time. But we can’t continue this—the agency wouldn’t like this.”

“Fine.” Villain muttered bitterly.

With that, she walked out of the bedroom with a resounding slam of the door. Her hands shook. Everything—everything—infuriated her to look at. The art on the wall, the luxury furniture…everything that symbolized the stark contrast between the lives they lived. Hero’s penthouse, the home of a hero that the public adored and idolized for her morals, strength and looks. Beautiful and shiny, rippling with muscles. Born to rich parents with the money to give her an elite education in everything from strategy to sparring.

And Villain was anything but that. She was a speck of dirt next to Hero’s shining, glamorous lifestyle. Yet she’d been stupid enough to think that Hero could love someone like her.

Fuming, Villain stormed out, knocking over an expensive looking vase on her way out.

Hero would pay one way or another.

I feel like I say this every time I post but so sorry for the inactivity :(, I’ve been struggling with writers block AND studying—a true deadly combo.

Anywho, this piece is very much inspired by “good luck, babe!” by Chappell Roan if it isn’t super obvious lol.

And even though I’ve been inactive for awhile, I value and appreciate you guys sm and thank you so much for you support and for your patience!

#wlw writing #hero x villain #heroes and villains #writing snippet #wlw #my writing

[abouttofillhisshoes]

ok so now that I’ve traumatised everyone I’m requesting 22 for mpind matty!!

I’m going to sleep let’s hope I don’t dream of ginger roots shaped like butt plugs because!! that would be horrible!! anyways mwah <3

-legend anon🩵

this is sooo old i hope u still wanna see it!! don't remind me of the figging thing im positively gagging and not in a good way. Anyways onto the actually blurb length blurb

22. "Mark me. Mark me so everyone knows who I belong to."

wc: like 1k?? not much, that's for sure

content warnings: not really smut but also kinda, use of the word juxtaposition (soz guys), marking, exhibitionism, sub!Matty, teasing, jealous girlie, typical MPIND Matty cockiness

You're overreacting, you know you are. It's not that serious.

But it is.

Matty stands there, surrounded by people, all of them listening to him telling a story, hands moving erratically to emphasize his words, pausing to let people laugh at his crude humour every few seconds, most of them too drunk to even realise what he was talking about.

That wouldn't be an issue, not normally. The girl next to him is the source of your feeling of unease, hanging onto his every word and getting a bit closer with every giggle, touching his arm while batting her eyelashes, looking up at him sweetly. Something inside of you stirs at the scene, and your legs carry you across the room in direction of Matty, not stopping to think for just a second.

Pushing your way through the circle of people surrounding him, muttering quiet excuses as you walk up to the center where he stood, wrapping an arm around his waist. Matty looks at you, and you take the opportunity to kiss him, right in front of everyone. The girl that was coming onto him visibly rolls her eyes, taking a small step back and turning her attention to her drink, downing it.

A smug smile spreads onto your face as he finishes up his story rather quickly, leaving out key details as you impatiently tug on his shirt, urging him to come with you. Excusing himself, he follows you keenly, knowing exactly what got you like this.

The sound of his back hitting the closed bathroom door is loud, the sounds of his slightly tipsy giggles only making you more aggressive, feeling him up as his hands settle on your waist.

"What do you think you're doing, letting her touch you like that?" you voice is harsh as your nails ghost over his neck, tracing down the hollow of his throat.

"Jealous, are we? Didnt take you for the possessive type." Matty's grin is teasing, and he purposely throws his head back, exposing more skin to you.

"Don't act coy, its pissing me off."

"I only have eyes for you, you know that." he puntucates his sentence with a hand on your chest, softly touching your tits over your top. His movements are measured, fluid, and driving you insane.

"She doesn't know that." you hiss, mouthing at the skin of his neck, nipping and biting it. Matty lets out a satisfied sigh, leaning into the familiar sensation. Your hands find his hair, tugging it back in that way you know he loves, a soft moan spilling from his lips.

"Show her who I belong to then, mark me yours." the way he speaks is low, challenging, almost mocking you for your reaction. You shoot him an annoyed look, his smirk only spurring you on. Your teeth graze over his throat, leaving deep purple hickeys all over his neck, no area remaining untouched.

His strained sounds as you get more and more aggressive make you smile, barely giving him time to breathe between hot kisses full of teeth and tongue, directly followed by those same lips back on his skin sucking dark marks into the skin.

The bright light of the bathroom perfectly illuminates your work, the contrast of the hickeys against his pale skin make your breathing get a bit more shallow than usual, a change that doesn't go unnoticed by Matty.

"Enjoying the view?" he sniggers, cocking his head at you. The expression on your face is one he knows and loves all too well. One of lust. Passion. Adoration.

"Cocky." you mumble, trailing your fingers over his collarbones, pressing down lightly, making him hiss in pain, a filthy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Wanna show me off then, have them all see what you did to me?"

"Don't act like that's only what I want," you pull at his almost fully unbuttoned shirt, toying with the loose buttons. "We both know how much you love belonging to me." Matty goes quiet, his rapid blinking telling you everything you need to know.

"Hm. I need you to answer me, love." you can practically see him light up at the use of the pet name you use sparsely, his eyes soft as he stares into yours, lips parted slightly.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" You taunt, letting your hands cup his face in a sweet manner, a delicious juxtaposition to the condescending way you're speaks to him. Matty takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. It's rare that Matty gets even the smallest bit shy, but fuck, do you relish in it when it happens.

"I want people to see me, see how you own me." he smiles down at you, his hands gripping tighter onto your waist, pressing your body flush against his. The soft rumble of his voice goes straight to your core, and you clear your throat, much to Matty's amusement.

"I'm yours." he adds, a delicate finger running over your bottom lip, smudging your stick lipgloss. His nails are chipped with purple nail polish, matching his belt perfectly. His fashion sense is one of the things you love about him, not matter how 'odd' or 'girly' other people find it.

"You're mine." you speak softly, the kiss following mirrors the tenderness between the two of you, your lips moving against each other with devotion, hungrily drinking in each others reactions as they came, echoing off the tacky blue tiles of the bathroom wall.

Matty is proud, grinning wildly as you exit the bathroom, his shirt completely unbuttoned, his jeans so low waisted in was bordering on obscene. The looks the two of you got were mixed.

Some people raked their eyes up and down his body, gaze flicking between you and him before it finally clicked, their head quickly turning away from your direction.

George sees you as well, groaning as he spots the obviously fresh hickeys from across the kitchen counter, clutching the liquor bottle in his left hand. Handing you a mystery drink, he says a few words into your ear.

"Do you have to do that here? I dont want to think about you and him getting it on." George visibly shudders at the thought, shaking is head as if to get the mental image out of it.

"Soz mate, but this is payback for having to listen to your relentless shagging on Halloween." A party Matty had thrown months back for Halloween had led to George hooking up with a girl from your form, the walls proven paper thin as everyone had heard everything. You cringe at the memory, the sight of a few hickeys paling in comparison the the torture you had to endure that night.

George rolls his eyes just in time for Matty to pull you away, wrapping a tattooed arm around your waist, playing with the mesh of your his top.

"Alright?" he asks, pressing an endearing kiss to the corner of your mouth, the smell of wine filling your senses. You nod, intertwining your fingers as the two of you wade through the crowd, and you spot the girl from earlier.

Your body moves faster than your head, and you grab Matty's lower back, turning him to face you. You can feel the girl's eyes on you as you kissing him messily, taking his lower lip between your teeth as he gasps into your mouth.

Her footsteps are aggressive as she walks away, muttering under her breath. You smile against Matty's lips, content with yourself. Finally, you let go of him, your hands lingering on his chest as you trace what you left behind, a hazy feeling clouding your mind.

"Got what you wanted?" his tone is provoking as brown eyes find yours, face flushing a gentle shade of pink. The music is muted as everything blurs around you, the only thing worthy of your attention being the person standing right in front of you.

"You know 'm not done yet." you lean in to him, bringing your lips up to his ear, your breath hot against his skin.

"Far from it, actually. I'm going to show you just how much you need me, no matter how convincing your little display of confidence might me, hm?" his breath hitches at your words, his eyes darting around the room at the dozens of people surrounding you, blissfully unaware of the filthy things you're painting his fantasies with, scenes playing out behind his eyes like a film.

"Meet me outside in five minutes. Say goodbye to your little friend for me, yeah?" with that, you leave him standing there, breathing unsteady and knees weak, threatening to buckle under him.

It doesn't take long before you have him shoved up against the hood of some random car, the darkness of the moonless night concealing you. Matty's moans are like music to your ears, your lips against his getting harsher as seconds pass, feeling for like hours.

"Please, take me home. I need you so badly, please darling, i'll be so, so good for you-" you cut him off his a finger pressed to his pretty pink lips. He wants you, he yearns for you. The way his back arches forward at even the slightest tells you everything you need to know.

Who are you to deny him?

#hey yall #guess who's back #no one cheered #its a bit rushed #i just wanted to get something out #hope yall like it!! #not proofed at all soz xx #the 1975 #matty healy #george daniel #ross macdonald #adam hann #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #mpind matty #matty healy smut #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #truman black

[thedeviltohisangel]

For A Fortnight There We Were: He Got My Heartbeat

a/n: EV AND CAL ARE BACK! the response to the first one shot of this was so crazy and became so popular and I could have never imagined! this takes place back on the MOTA set when they start to wonder if they really are started to feel tingly for each other or if the characters are bleeding into their lives. please shoot me any requests for future one shots or blurbs since I love being able to fill in all the little blanks for you guys. standing by to chat about these two (or callum in general lbr) and am thinking of add austin x popstar!oc to this universe? idk, let me know your thoughts. love you all and see you on the flip side...

She heard the sound of the director cutting and ignored it anyway. He did too. Evelyn used the arm around his neck to pull him closer and prevent his lips from slipping off of hers. Her hips shifted forward on their own accord and she felt something twitch between her legs. 

“Jesus, fuck-Ev, I’m sorry-”

“-oh, God, it’s my fault-” She fell backwards off the chaise as she hurried to scramble out of his lap. 

“No, Evelyn, don’t, it’s fine!” Callum was racing to grab the abandoned bed sheet from the ground as she was struggling to conceal her chest from the production crew. “Can someone get her a fucking robe?” he yelled as he was finally able to wrap her in the polyester. 

“Please don’t touch me.” Her shoulder shrugged quickly to rid his hand from her skin. Her lips were still burning from his kisses. Her nose on fire from where it had nuzzled with his. Her chin and waist aching for the feel of his hands again. She doesn’t think she would be able to hold onto her sanity if his hands were on her ever again. 

“I’m sorry.” He held his hands up in surrender as a PA emerged with a fluffy white bathrobe for her to tuck her arms into. Not a glance from her was spared his direction as she stood and hurried off the set. 

Callum hung his head between his legs as they offered him a robe but he had no motivation to grab it. He was only able to think how stupid he was. How silly it was to let himself get lost in the sensation of kissing her and touching her and making love to her. It was all acting and for the camera and none of it was real but it had felt so tangible. Like even after she pulled away he could still reach out and grab it and keep it and never let it go. But he had fucking ruined it because he wasn’t able to control his arousal for her. 

“Falling in love with your co-star…not always the best choice. Especially when they happen to be married.” He scoffed at Tom’s words as he sat next to him, pulled on the robe to protect his modesty in front of one of his heroes.

“I’m not in love with her,” he mumbled around the lump in his throat. “We’re just friends.” The hotel room set was quiet now. Tom had cleared it out as he watched the two young actors fall apart right in front of him. The intimacy had been a step too close to what they really craved to maintain any sense of stability. 

“I see,” he responded with a nod. They had said cut nearly five whole minutes before the two of them had even thought to stop. The intimacy coordinator had watched the scene playout with a perplexed look as none of the choreography had been followed, they had just kissed and groaned and moved their hips the way that had felt right and normal and it had worked perfectly. It had felt like they had been doing it forever. Like they were meant to. “Sometimes, lines get blurred on projects. It’s okay to admit that to each other.”

“And, hypothetically, how would one tell if the lines between the characters and the actors are blurring or if the feelings are real regardless of the character?”

“Hypothetically?”

“Completely.”

“You talk to each other.” Callum chuckled. Sometimes the simplest answer was the correct one. 

“She didn’t seem like she wanted to talk to me.” The look on her face when he had tried to reach out and comfort her would haunt him. The rejection slapping across his face like a biting cold wind. The way he had bared his soul just an inch to try and connect to her and protect her and she turned him away easily.

“Give her time. Everything you are feeling is amplified for her. A few more complications.” Evelyn was in the middle of a very public legal fight. There were houses and cars and a plane to divide and assign value to and storage units of furniture and designer clothing. Businesses they had invested in together and land they had purchased to build a life on.

“Maybe it’s not worth it. Maybe I let sleeping dogs lie.” Callum had already watched the way phone calls with her lawyers and emails from her manager and texts from her ex took a toll on her day in and day out. It would be unfair of him to add one more burden to her shoulders. 

“Or maybe you don’t and it turns out to be the best decision of your life, Callum.” Maybe it was the start of a fairytale. Maybe it was the love that they both were meant to have in their life. Maybe it was the kind of love that could soothe the ache in their chest and fill the hole in their heart and mend the cracks in their souls. 

Maybe it was exactly what they both needed.

----

The binder of her lines for the next day of shooting was sitting in her lap as her hairstylist brushed out her 1940s era curls but they just looked like blurry letters on the page. All she could think about was the look on Callum’s face when she had recoiled from his touch. She thinks he looked genuinely hurt. Like she was rejecting a vulnerable piece of him that he had offered. 

“Is it a bad idea to go apologize to him?” she asked the trailer full of people. They had all been quiet from the moment she entered and had been waiting for her to talk first. “Like, do I just leave it be or do I go say something?” 

“Are you just saying sorry or are you trying to talk about why it went down like that?” her assistant asked. Evelyn chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about, leaning back in her chair and shoving the binder onto the vanity. 

“It’s only going to get more awkward if we don’t do the latter.” With a sigh, she grabbed her water bottle and got down from the chair. “I’m going to put on something comfy then go see if he’s in his trailer. Can someone practice with me on how to not say that I’m confusing the characters relationship and emotions for real life?”

“Or you just be honest that maybe all your feelings are real life. He’s giving it right back, Ev, we’ve all seen it.” 

“And then what happens? I ask him to twiddle his fucking thumbs while Logan drags me through court for the rest of my life?” She tucked her feet into a pair of UGGs and grabbed her phone from where it was charging. “No matter if anything is going on between Cal and I, he deserves better than what I have to offer him or anyone right now.” There was no reason to drag someone she cared about as much as him into this mess. No reason to ruin whatever relationship they currently had if she didn’t have to. Evelyn had gotten used to seeing him and Golo at the end of every day and running lines and laughing while taking a smoke break when they all got food delivered and hung out as a group. He was always sending her some funny video saying it reminded him of her and teasing her about how his mustache tickled her when they kissed and she was happy around him in a way she hadn’t been in a long time. 

“Ev? Did you hear what Tracy said?” 

“No, I was-” She stopped when they were all smiling at her like they knew all her secrets. “Whatever. None of you are helping. I’ll just fucking wing it and see you later.” Evelyn took a few deep breaths of fresh air and walked to the trailer in question only a few yards away, Golo popping his head into the window and barking once when he noticed her arrival. 

“My Evelyn door bell was ringing.” Callum opened the door before she had the chance to knock and her momentary freeze was interrupted by the dog that was eager for her attention. 

“Hi, baby,” she cooed as she squatted to scratch at his ears and laugh around his kisses. “It’s only been a couple days, Golo!” 

“He told me you give the best belly scratches and he wants them everyday,” Callum said as he leaned his back against the doorway. “You want to come in or you just swung by to see this one?” She stood up and pulled her sweatshirt down to cover her exposed skin.

“I wanted to talk about earlier. Unless now isn’t a good time or unless you didn’t want to talk about it all.” He paused for a beat as he thought about the two options she had just presented. One offered an understanding of whatever it was that was palpable between them. There would be no more guessing. But there was the trap. Because if the answer was that the lines had just blurred. That the tension was based in the characters and only existed on set, then he would rather not know. He would rather float through the turmoil of not knowing because at least his heart had a chance at remaining whole.

“No, we can talk about it.” Callum opened the door wider and stepped to the side as she and his dog crossed the threshold. “You want a bottle of water? Something else?” 

“Just water is fine.” Evelyn sat in a chair and wiped her sweaty palms on the top of her thighs. He handed her a bottle of water and leaned against the wall opposite. “I, uh, I wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that, I know it was just an accident. And it was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have deviated from what we discussed with the intimacy coordinator. That is what they are here for and it was inappropriate of me to…do what I did.” Kiss him like it was real. Move her hips in the hopes she would catch some friction between her legs. Observe the look on his face as he had acted out his orgasm. She had never found the way Logan looked when he came particularly mesmerizing. But that’s how she would describe the feeling of looking at Callum.

“Takes two to tango. Nothing to apologize for.” He looked down at his feet and Evelyn sat, waiting for him to say something more. Something further. Anything. 

“Ok. Yeah, ok. I’ll get out of here.” She stood and stared at him for a beat but he seemed incapable of looking at her. She probably disgusted him. Just wanted her to promise to never do it again so he could move on with his life and his career. And the quicker she left, the quicker she could go to her rental flat and cry in the shower with a bottle of white wine. 

Her right hand was around the doorknob when his hand encircled her left wrist. She paused.

“It’s not just the characters bleeding into my thoughts and actions,” he whispered as her eyes closed and her forehead rested against the door. “My feelings for you are as real they fucking get.”

“Callum…”

“I know. I know. Tell me to get over it and I will, Ev. Tell me you only view me as a friend and I will work every goddamn to get over it to keep you in my life. Tell me I am losing my mind.” Evelyn was breathless as she was trying to find the courage to turn and face him. The grip on her wrist was loosening, Cal admitting defeat and letting her go, so she turned and slipped her hand so it was holding his instead.

“You are losing your mind. But I guess I am too.” He looked up at her with eyebrows raised in surprise. A step forward closed any gap between them. “My life…my life is so complicated right now. And you don’t deserve being dragged into that.” They both ached to touch each other but didn’t want to upset the current balance between them. 

“I don’t want to complicate things for you. That is the last thing I would ever want,” he breathed. 

“But I also don’t know when things will ever not be complicated. Logan…he’s dragging things out. Trying to suck me dry. Trying to make me suffer.” Everyone around her was telling her that he was trying to bully her into getting back with him. That he didn’t want this divorce in the first place and would make her life so miserable until she cracked and broke down and went crawling back to him. 

“You tell me what you want to do, Ev. I’ll wait if you ask me to. Wait until the timing is right and we can try to do this the right way.” It would pain him to wait but at least he would know she was waiting on the other side. Having her at arm's length was better than not having her at all.

“Or.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and she brought a shaking, unsure hand to his cheek. Callum’s mouth parted at the contact, his own hand resting on top of hers as he felt like he could drop to his knees and worship her at the simple contact alone. “Or I stop letting him dictate a single second of my life. And we go do something sickeningly normal tomorrow night. Just the two of us.”

“Austin will be heartbroken,” he teased. She giggled. “I can take you to my favorite pub in Chelsea. They can be discrete.” 

“Ok.”

“Ok.” Her hand dropped from his cheek and she took a step back towards the door. 

“I’ll see you bright and early, Mr. Turner.” 

“Counting down the seconds, Ms. Shaw.” She turned away from him with a twinkling laugh and exited with a goodbye to Golo as well. “I’ve got a date tomorrow, mate. What the fuck do I wear?” Golo merely blinked at him. 

He doesn’t know how he had managed to reach the heights he was currently soaring to. The most beautiful woman on the planet asking him to take her to a pub. The most talented woman on the planet touching him like he was precious porcelain. He would do anything just for her eyes to land on him. His chest ached to protect her and care for her and let her know she was never alone because she would always have him. The weight of what tomorrow night could mean for him and for her and for a potential future resting on his shoulders. He planned to rise to the challenge just like she deserved. Fight for her to heal. Fight for her to find peace and love.

Fight for their love story to end with the three words she deserved more than anything.

Happily ever after.

#callum turner #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner x oc #callum turner imagine #callum turner fanfic #callum turner fic #evelyn

[chaotic-orphan]

Noble Consequences

“You see now?” Villain yelled across the street, a building levelled behind them. Smoke and dust partially obscuring them from moment to fleeting moment. They were panting, twin trails of blood making lines down one side of their face. They stepped forward, or more, limped forward, their usually pristine coat in tatters.

Superhero watched them move, only very distantly aware of the sirens in the distance and the chaos on the street. Unlike Villain they were frozen in place, looking at the place behind Villain, at the rubble, at— at Hero’s apartment block. Their mind couldn’t comprehend that fact. It wouldn’t let them, certain that their brain would crumble as quickly as the bricks and foundation of the apartment block did. Destroyed right in front of their eyes.

“You can’t save them,” Villain screamed, still hobbling over to Superhero’s statue-like form. “They don’t care about you, or me, or anybody or anything!”

Superhero’s mouth opened, as if to reply, but any words escaped them. Surely… surely Hero wasn’t home at the time, surely… they were alright. Somewhere else. Far from here, having coffee or dinner or something. Something normal, living people did.

Villain was in front of Superhero, grabbing their shirt in both hands and shaking them. “Supervillain is a monster,” Villain howled, voice broken and filled with heartache and fury and pain. Superhero’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, struggling to work properly. “Look at what your kindness did! Look at where your second chances got us! Hero is dead because of you.”

“No,” Superhero mumbled, the words clogging their throat as they shook their head. “No… no, no, no, no. Hero is… Hero’s not—”

“We have to kill them, Superhero.”

Superhero tore their gaze from the rubble to Villain in front of them. “W—what?”

“We have to kill Supervillain, or they won’t stop.”

Superhero bristled, putting a hand over Villain’s and pulling them off, stepping back and their legs buckled and hit the floor. “No… no, no. No, no,” Superhero repeated, like a fucking tape stuck on loop.

Villain dropped to their knees with Superhero, supporting them as they fell. Thick wet tears rolled quickly down Superhero’s face as the first firetruck pulled up onto the scene.

Villain grabbed Superhero’s face, tilting it to face Villain again. “We have to kill them, Superhero. Promise me.”

Superhero didn’t respond.

Villain shook their head again and screamed in a guttural, heartbroken voice: “promise me you won’t stand in my way. For Hero… they…”

A sob ripped from Villain’s throat cut them off and once they started, Villain couldn’t get them to stop. Their grip on Superhero loosened as they fell forwards, loud, pained cries of agony wracking their body as they wept.

Superhero wrapped their arms around Villain and let them cry on their shoulder, holding them tightly, like Hero would’ve if they—

Superhero blinked, and sniffed and said: “okay, Villain. We do it your way.”

#hero villain writing #writblr #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #hero #villain #hero villain drabble #hero villain angst #hero villain whump #whump writing #emotional whump #angst #death implied #broken building #whump drabble #hero whump #distraught villain #grief #grief whump #tw grief #immediate grief #shell shock #shock #effects of shock #orphan writing #orphan #my writing #drabble #this is therapeutic #self indulgence at its finest

[bullet-prooflove]

for nsfw alphabet for Terry Silver can you do L, o, r, u, w <3

Lick:

Terry loves having his mouth on you, giving you pleasure is his favourite thing. He honestly did not think he would find love, esp this late in life and now that he’s found it, he will do anything to ensure it doesn’t disappear. This includes ruining you for absolutely any other person that crosses your path.

He finds it incredible sexy when you queen with him. He always maintains some aspect of control, hands gripping your thighs, holding you against his mouth so he gets that perfect angle as you fuck his tongue. You were shy about it at first and he found that incredibly endearing.

“Trust me you’ll like it.” He’d told you before guiding you right where he wants you. You come so hard that night you see stars.

Loves how deep he can get when he tongue fucks you from behind. Holding you open, seeing how wet you are before he licks it all up is a huge turn on for him.

After the first orgasm, he gently uses his palms on your inner thighs to keep your legs spread so he can lick up the mess he’s made.

You usually give him a blow job when you feel he needs to relax. He doesn’t give you much of an opportunity to otherwise because he’s all about your pleasure, he prefers to come inside you because he craves the intimacy of sex. However if he’s working too hard or distracted, that’s when you get the chance, it usually starts with your palms coming to rest on his knees while you lean in for a kiss, you part his legs as you kiss your way down his throat before you get down on your knees.

For him a blowjob feels like a gift, because you the way you treat him. This isn’t a fuck your throat kind of thing. You take your time, teasing the shaft, circling the head, licking the pre-cum off the end before you take him entirely into your mouth. You set your own pace and Terry adheres to it. He’s never come as hard as he’s come with you in those moments.

Everyone else before that has always made it quick, a means to an end. You make him feel cherished with the way you take care of him. You always curl in his lap afterwards and he cradles you close. He likes to feel that tenderness in the aftermath, it reminds him of how loved he is.

Overnight:

Every session with Terry is intense for the both of you, it’s always very physical and very emotional. The aftermath always involves the two of you tangled up in each other, you fall asleep completely but Terry usually wakes up after an hour or two to set the house alarm and make sure the doors are locked. You’re safety is paramount to him and he refuses to have it compromised.

Restraints:

You get off on it when Terry brings out the silk restraints, you know it’s going to be a very fun night. He binds your wrists above your head, but never your legs because he likes to feel your thighs gripping him when he’s inside you.

Terry can’t have physical restraints used on him. It takes him back to Vietnam and that feeling of helplessness when he was captured. He found this out the hard way during the a sex game. When you do restrain him, it’s with your hands, fingers entwining with his as you pin him to the bed, there’s an intimacy in that he enjoys immensely.

Uniform:

You both have in the past with other partners, Terry as part of the sex club scene, you with other boyfriends/girlfriends but you don’t do it with each other.  Terry loves being with you, he doesn’t need any other version of you and it’s never really been you’re fantasy.

Window:

Terry has got off on it a little, during his sex club days but with you, it’s private. He takes pleasure in the knowledge that he’s the only one that gets to see you in that state, that gets to give you pleasure. However sometimes the two of you get a little heated in public spaces.

There is one time you did get caught but you don’t know it. You were at an art showing and ran into your ex-boyfriend JP, who is filling in last minute for one of the other artists who had to had to pull out. Terry sees your demeanour falter and he remembers the story associated with this guy. He undermined your art, cheated on you, made you feel worthless. He’s the reason the two of you met in in Paris, you couldn’t stand to be in LA so you took the residency in France when it was offered. It’s clear that he still feels some entitlement, Terry watches from a distance as the two of you interact, the way JP lingers in your personal space because even after all this time he still wants you, the way you withdraw into yourself when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You disappear for a while after that and he finds you sitting in the alone in one of the galleries off to the side.

“I’m sorry.” You say as he kneels down in front of you. “He just makes me feel…”

You don’t say the word but he knows it. Inadequate. Terry fucking hates it.

“You, my love, are spectacular.” He tells you, his thumb chasing along the line of your jaw as he looks into your eyes. “Beautiful, talented, fierce.”

“I need you to show me that.” You tell him, your nose tracing along the  length of his until your lips are barely apart. “I need you to remind me of who I am.”

So he does, he fucks you in that gallery, your dress hiked up your hips as he whispers the sweetest damn words into the hollow of your throat.

“Fuck, you are the only man who does this to me.” You murmur when he has you on the cusp. “The only one that’s ever made me feel this damn good.”

Your eyes are closed but Terry’s, their wide open and fixed on the man whose watching the two of you in the doorway. Your ex JP. He looks stricken. It’s clear that he expected to find you here alone, that he expected to fuck you again. His cheeks colour as Terrys tugs your hair just a little and you fall apart all over his cock, his name on your lips.

“That’s it sweetheart.” He says, his eyes meeting JP’s with a ferociously he feels deep down in his bones. “You deserve far more than that boy could ever give you.”

#terry silver #terry silver x reader #cobra kai

[flurrys-creativity]

Falling hard or falling slow

Pairing: Song Mingi (Ateez) x GN!Reader; Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff; Rating: sfw, PG-13; Warnings: Mingi being a nervous wreck and face planting himself on the floor; Wordcount: 416

Summary: He fell for you first and he fell hard. You only followed falling for him after he did it quite literally.

A/N: I simply love this gentle giant. And this prompt by @pirateeznet feels so fitting for him!

Mingi worked at a small café and most of his shifts went by peacefully. The only times something went downhill, were the times he had to serve you - a regular patron of the café.

You sat at a table in the corner of the room, nose deep in a book while absentmindedly stirring your hot cocoa. You always chose to visit the café when you felt like socialising without wanting to actually meet friends or people in general - you simply needed the background noise of chatter and laughter.

Mingi stood behind the counter, wiping the same spot over and over again as he silently admired you from afar. He nearly jumped out of his skin when his coworker elbowed him, followed by a nod of their head and a knowing smirk.

Mingi swallowed harshly, eyes darting to you again. How could he possibly approach you, how could he possibly talk to you, how could he possibly ask you for your number or even ask you out?

You looked up from your book when someone cleared their throat in front of you. You had to lean back quite a bit so as not to strain your neck until you finally met his eyes. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, stammering inaudible. "Yes?"

"Uhm, so, yeah, uhm, can I bring you anything else?" Mingi sputtered, nodding down to your table before looking back up.

"Oh", you smiled gently, "I'm fine, thanks. But I'll call out if I need another cocoa."

Mingi nodded quickly and turned around on his heels, wanting to flee the scene as fast as possible. But right as he took the first step, his foot got caught somehow and he stumbled forward - unable to catch himself, Mingi crashed down on the floor.

You jumped up in surprise. Your eyes were wide and your book long forgotten as you looked down at the grown ass man, who momentarily didn't move at all. "Are you alright? Can you get up?"

Mingi only shook his head. "Please ignore me, pretend you don't see me." He wished the floor would consume him so he could hide from his own embarrassment.

To his surprise though you crouched down next to him and placed a hand on his upper arm. "How could I possibly pretend not to see someone so handsome?" You giggled lightly as he looked up at you with hopeful eyes. "How about you get yourself a drink and join me at my table when you can?"

© all rights reserved  

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland​ @songsoomin​ 

#pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #wkcnet #kvanity #ateez #song mingi #ateez mingi #drabble #fluff #falling hard or falling slow

[mqkoeyes]

thinking abt them again

#ff16 #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy xvi #joshua rosfield #clive rosfield #roscest #AAHHHHHHHH #thinking abt them very sadly #i'm not immune to them #they got me by the throat with their scenes #THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO EACH OTHER AND IT MAKES ME WANNA DIE #kiss #oh my god bruh i'm so distraught #what if i kms #the way they look at each other #I'M GOING TO END MY LIFE #sighs loudly

[crow-cap]

quick thing of a lesson in changing the world by @thousand-sunnies because it made me giggle

#this. this fought me #I’d fucking LOVE to draw some of the later scenes where stuff gets intense #or do like fully coloured stuff for this fic #but this did not want to get drawn and I’ve got so many exams. pounding the ground biting maiming etc #crowcraft #opc #one piece #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy #koby one piece #coby one piece #op #don’t look to hard at this #thousand sunnies your fic is amazing!! !!! It grabbed me by the throat and shook!!!!!!! and made me laugh so hard!!!!!!!!!

[ex0rin]

Hughie Campbell | The Boys S01E05: Good for the Soul

#hughie campbell #the boys #cara gifs #jack quaid #was trying to make a different set #but got so distracted #that hand on the back of hughie's neck #it uh #makes me a little feral tbh #the grip!! #hughie being fucking terrified!!! #AND STILL GOING THROUGH WITH IT #fucking anything for butcher eh? #god he's so!!!! #that red on his throat from homelander's fingers?? #i bet he bruises up so fucking pretty #also: #pspsps semains come look at this #i made like six more gifs of this scene btw #but it looks better with just the two imo

[ilikedetectives]

I'm all ears about bottom Minthara.

I keep thinking how nice it would be if there was a second scene for her romance when you reach act 3 and get together with her. And for it to be softer and more tender in comparison to the scene at the goblin party. I desperately need it and to have Tav take care of her please

I'm so normal about bottom Minthara, not because of the smut, but it shows her ultimate trust in Tav as their relationship evolves from Act 1 to Act 3. Given what she's been through, it's understandable for her to want to be in control, because let's be honest throughout the centuries under Lolth and then the Absolute, when was the last time her mind was her own for her to make a choice, for herself? (hint: "Tonight, I wanted this - for myself.") So for her to willingly trust Tav to let that go, even just for a few moments. Alurlssrin is unselfish, deep, unbreakable love, but do you know what Tav is? Tav is her tri âm tri kỷ (know the sound, know the self) in both romantic and platonic ways, do you understand?!?!?!? Her scars are invisible and Tav is the only one who sees through them, that is why she only cares for how Tav sees her through their eyes *go outside and scream*

Between "Tonight there will be no voices, no orders, no gods... I belong only to you." (Act 2/3) and "Minthara is my home." in the epilogue, I'd say there's nothing but soft between them as time goes on and it gets softer as each night passes.

The dream is a very soft romance scene after "I belong only to you." which is a total contrast to Act 1 (bonus is including the alurlssrin dialogue during aftercare). I wish Tav could also comfort her after saving her from Orin because that level of trauma coming back, ooof.

#minthara baenre #nightwarden minthara #bg3 #I know I joke harder than Dribbles the Clown about her sitting on Tav's face in Act 1 #but what got me by the throat is actually her choosing to cuddle afterwards #then wifes Tav on the spot #then the “I only heard your breath and your voice” #and “Tonight I wanted this - for myself.” #“I prayed that you would but there are no gods left to me” sealed my fate #isn't she the only one with aftercare cuddle scene? #I GOT A TYPO IT WAS MEANT TO BE UNSELFISH NOT SELFISH OH FISH #once again 髮如雪 Hair Like Snow and Sleeping Sun playing in the background asdasdas #Imma post this now cuz if I wait any longer this is gonna be a 5k word response asdasasddsa #anon #answered #minthara brainrot #bg3 babbles

[cosmic-kaden]

He is too fucking cute! He is too fucking cheeky! He is messing up my insides, giving me butterflies! ;//A//; ILLEGAL! [bangs squeaky gavel] You're going to jail! >: c ..............fuckIReallyLikeHim

#[slams my fist on the table] YOU GOT ME IN A FUCKING CHOKEHOLD GOD DAAAAAAMMMNNNNN #I had to slow this down so muchhhh because its a blink and you miss it scene hhhhhhhhhh #IF MY THROAT WASN'T SO SORE I'D BE SCREAMING! >//////< #Crush; ⌛ #my gifs;;

[wreathedinlaurels-nerd]

Not to simp on main but he is so sexy and For What!?

#the house of dragon #house of the dragon #hotd #ser harwin strong #harwin strong #harwin breakbones strong #ser harwin breakbones strong #breakbones #game of thrones #got #caught me red handed #listen i cant help it he's hot #and the scene of him decking a bunch of guys to get to Rhaenyra has me by the throat