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allylikethecat · 4 months

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lol Ally I’m such a sucker for asking ppl to write lil’ fics from prompt posts like that!! You’re amazing❤️ whenever you get to it, I would love to read anything you write (smutty or not) about George or Ross and Matty sharing clothes. Even all three??? They can share him. Maybe something about their size difference! our little babygirl is pocket sized compared to his big boys!! also I love descriptions of smells and sweat when clothes sharing. Always gets me!

⭐️“are you wearing my shirt?”

Hello Dearest Anon,

Way, way back in the dark ages of August you sent me this lovely ask from the Subtle Smut Sentence Starts Prompts list. I have been very, very vocal about how smut is not something I am very good at writing, and is something that I need to super hype myself up to write because everything just ends up super cringe, awkward and the definition of unsexy. It is something I would like to get better at though! HOWEVER it's always good to push ourselves outside of our creative comfort zones and at least try. On that note, I realized that a ~spicy~ chapter of On a Friday (at least per the outline) is coming up and that means I should probably try and practice this whole smut writing thing some more in preparation. Therefore, here ya have it, some extremely mediocre subpar smut. I apologize for sitting on this ask for so long, and hope that you are 1) still around on the blog 2) that you are at least a *little* amused by this attempt. I am extremely grateful that you took the time to send it and am so extremely sorry for taking so long to finish it. Without further ado, here we go Ally Attempts Smut Part III: Return of the Smut. Thank you for this ask, your support, and letting me know what you think! I hope you have a great week and that being subjected to this attempt at writing smut doesn't make it worse!

WARNINGS: Extremely subpar smut, 18+ content

⭐️ “are you wearing my shirt?”

Matty felt silly, George had only been gone a day and a half, popping up to Manchester to visit his sister while Matty was tethered to London by a meeting at Dirty Hit. Matty knew the entire thing was a ploy by Jamie to try and convince him to reaccept the Creative Director’s position he had stepped down from last summer. Regardless it kept him in London while George was in Manchester and Matty felt absolutely ridiculous for the way that he missed him. He had made two cups of coffee that morning on autopilot, dumping the second cup with almond milk down the drain when he realized George wasn’t there to drink it.

His meeting had been fine, and through some kind of miracle, he had even shown up on time without George there to lovingly herd him out the door. Jamie had come prepared with a very convincing argument as to why he should accept reinstatement, and the board of shareholders had been in agreement, which Matty hadn’t been expecting. But that didn’t change the fact that he had come home to an empty house, assuring Jamie that he would at least consider the offer. He didn’t want to admit it right away, but he was probably going to accept, the break they had settled into was more boring than he had anticipated it being, and he needed something to occupy his time with George’s production work growing in demand.

On his way home he had ordered take away for one that he picked at half heartedly, wishing George was there to discuss the proposal. Because it wouldn’t just be taking back his old position, it would be taking on more responsibility, the role turning into less of an honorary title. While Matty was nearly positive he was going to accept, he was still plagued by a wave of self doubt and insecurity. He was sure the career counselors he had been required to meet with as teenager never expected him to succeed, breaking into the music industry and putting out five number one records, let alone that he would end up as a record label executive.

He ran his fingers through his curls, starting to grow out once again. George constantly told him he liked the gray, but Matty couldn’t help but feel self conscious. He liked getting older, he liked that he was around to get older but seeing the gray in his hair and the lines around his eyes was jarring sometimes, especially when he woke up feeling like he was still lost and seventeen. He shoved the plastic containers full of leftovers into the refrigerator, maybe he would be hungry later, he thought and headed upstairs. Despite their most recent album aesthetic leaning into suitwear, and Matty having always been partial to a button down, he couldn’t wait to be free of the constricting fabric.

He hung his blazer up in the closet. He intended to change into his blue Nike hoodie and Adidas track pants. He was alone in the house, there wasn’t anyone to make fun of his mismatched shades of blue, when George’s tee shirt, sitting on the top of the laundry hamper caught his eye. Feeling ridiculous, but he was alone so there wasn’t anyone to tease or judge him, he picked up the shirt. It was a faded pink, a white peace sign across the chest, the shirt, one George primarily wore to his yoga classes three times a week, was oversized even on him. Matty couldn’t help but raise it to his face, the fabric, grown thin from the wash, was soft against his skin as he inhaled the scent of stale cigarette smoke and the comforting musk that he could only describe as George.

Without thinking, and refusing to consider that maybe it was gross because Matty had just pulled the shirt out of the dirty laundry pile, he tugged it over his head, the fabric instantly enveloping him in the warmth and comfort that was George. The sharp, masculine tang of sweat that clung to the shirt as it brushed the tops of Matty’s thighs, made him feel small and delicate, like he should be cared for. His dick twitched with interest, and Matty found himself palming himself over his boxers, his head spinning at the juxtaposition of his own touch while being overwhelmed by the smell of George, so strong he could taste it in the back of his throat.

He let out a little whine of frustration, his knees shaking as he flopped onto the bed, wiggling out of his boxers as he went. George should be here, he thought. He was hyper aware of the way the fabric of George’s shirt was dragging against his nipples, the way that it was still a little damp, having been peeling from George’s sweaty body and then tossed into the hamper, the moisture becoming trapped among the fibers even two days later. He shivered with arousal, his cock, red and angry, begging for George’s touch curved up towards his belly. He thumbed at the head, gasping as his rough guitarist’s calluses dragged against the sensitive skin, smearing precum down the shaft, his hips squirming off the mattress on their own accord. He rucked up George’s tee shirt towards his chest, pressing down on his belly with his free hand as if trying to hold himself down, the way George did when he was too impatient.

He moaned, the sound high pitched and performative even if there wasn’t anyone there to hear him. He inhaled sharply, breathing in more of the intoxicated pheromones clinging to George’s shirt and whined again, tightening his grip on his cock, shifting so that he could tug on his balls. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and he tilted his head back, panting as he continued to touch himself, desperate to pretend it was George’s fingers teasing him.

“Matty, I’m home!” George called and Matty whimpered, his head swimming as he chased his release, the smell of George overwhelming his senses to the point that he was imagining the sound of his voice.

George snorted, “I see you started without me, missed me that much love?” he asked, his words light and teasing. Matty’s eyes flew open to see George looming over him, still wearing his overcoat with his backpack slung over his shoulder.

Matty couldn’t help it, he just whimpered in response, eyes growing dark as George shed his backpack and jacket, tossing them to the floor unceremoniously before kicking off his trainers.

“Please,” Matty gasped, arching up off the bed so that he could kiss George, pulling him down so that he was pinned under his bulk. He was completely overwhelmed by so much George, George, George as he rutted desperately against his hip while George kissed him, licking into his mouth, tugging on his lower lip like he wanted to consume him fully.

He came with his face buried into George’s shoulder, biting down on the junction of his neck and shoulder, refusing to be ashamed that he had just come from dry humping George like some kind of teenager.

“Welcome home,” slurred Matty as George rolled off of him, his own erection straining his jeans. Matty would be dealing with that for him as soon as he caught his breath. He was moving into his mid to late thirties now, it took him longer to recover.

“Good to be back,” said George with a chuckle, propping himself up on his elbow to look at Matty with a frown. “Are you wearing my shirt?”

#allylikethecat #ask ally #anon ask #prompt fill #prompt fills #subtle smut sentence starter prompts #matty fic #gatty #smut #subpar smut #ok but the fact that my bestie has abandoned me and this is just being tossed into the universe #without another human being looking at it and telling me it's not the worst thing i've ever written #is really scary #so please be kind #keep it kind #like you can laugh with me just not at me #if you laugh *at me* i will probably cry #just know that i did try really hard #and im sorry this took me months to fill and then this was the result...

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blissfali · 9 months

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hey guys. wasnt able to be on tumblr because ivr been busy building this he-man castle grayskull mega construct (knock off lego) set for the past 36 hours. doesnt it look awesome

#The most grueling fucking set ive ever built #i know its not OFFICIAL LEGO but by god you couldve tried a LITTLE bit #for starters #iT DOES NOT FUCKING END. YOU CAN NOT STOP AFTER EACH BAG LIKE WITH LEGO YOU EITHER STOP IN THE MIDDLE FOR NO REASON OR YOU GO UNTIL YOU DIE #(my route)#Like. why #why would you do that #secondly #idk. it was just annoying #it looks awesome from the outside the inside is mid but i like the characters #my mom got it for me like. 2 years ago. Um #Tbf she got it for ME because SHE likes he man (i never liked he man cause every road trip she would play the same he man christmas special #dvd in our dvd player for like hours over and over)#i was a she ra girly. And now im a reboot she ra girly #<- she hates the she ra reboot but thats fiar bc she grew up with the og… she doesnt know true #This is number 2 on my list for worst building experience lego set idc that its not lego #number 1 is the big millenium falcon #number 3 is the titanic #this one is worse than the titanic and i literally worked on that bitch for 6 and a half days straight #That was more enjoyable than this.

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slaughterlocked · 4 months

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🔪 / from jules. sorry girl --

HE'S ON A HIGH, OF COURSE HE IS. CHUCKLING AS HE COMES HOME, GRINNING LIKE A KID AT CHRISTMAS. As far as he remembers, she's out with friends tonight - or so he'd believed. It's partly why he doesn't even bother entering the house with any sense of subtlety, and partly why he hasn't completely cleaned up. The other part is sheer cockiness. He's not been caught yet, after all. Doesn't bother pausing to listen for familiar sounds of his wife being present, doesn't even cease the little tune he's humming: the annoying song that had been playing at the pizzeria on repeat as he'd gone about his business. Preparing the party rooms, checking in with employees entering the building, filing a notice to ensure he is the only one who is allowed to fix Bonnie. Wouldn't do for anyone to find anything untowards, after all.

So yes, he's in a good mood. It abruptly fades at the sight of his wife in their bedroom, as he waltzes in. He's very suddenly aware of his own state: ghostly faced, eyes too bright; usual shirt ruffled, splatters of blood trickling irritatingly on the right sleeve; the fucking knife in the bag he clutches to his chest. Lips part wordlessly for a second, caught off-guard [...] and then he's offering her a very weary, very artificial smile. They've not been able to read each other as well as they used to. Not since Evan. Maybe it'll work to his advantage this time. "Wasn't expecting to see my beautiful wife," he says, and plays it casual, taking a very small step backwards, "didn't you have plans, love?" Cursing her inwardly. Cursing his own carelessness more.

#(( bad news: worst man ever is your husband. im so sorry jules ))#( shall we read this story again?: starters. )#( tale as old as tragedy: william & juliet. )#( house haunted by shame: default iii. )#tw death #tw child murder #tw murder #tw violence #tw blood #tw mental instability #( ask to tag. )#a; florietiae

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onepiecesims · 1 year

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Update on Kid’s, could use some rework but I’ve never worked on blender so quality is not a thing over onepiecesims dot com /s

#eustass kid #one piece #op #sims 4 #s4 #googles will come soon but for now i just wanna try fix this mess #truly worst hair for a starter but im dedicated to this man #wip

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wutheringdevotion · 8 months

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No one would have ever called them the perfect couple. Thiago was certain his friends had thrown a secret little party the day they, once and for all, parted ways. But he had loved her with an intensity and a devotion that couldn't be manufactured. She had quickly become the air he breathed, the color of his blood, and the only thing in his mind. He had loved and loved and loved her. He had stood at her feet, willing to be crushed by the weight of her passion. He loved her. And he lost her. And it was almost unbearable. The notion that his heart would never beat as fast as it did with the tachycardia she managed to inflict on him with a simple look completely broke his spirit.

But he smiled when his friends asked how he was doing, hoping the old saying was true and faking it would make the void inside his chest eventually go away. He said he was fine, that he was doing alright but still imagined her body laying next to his as he drifted to sleep at night.

He was fine, he had moved on. The brilliant girl on his arm and the dazzling smile on his face proof of it. Only if one were to look closely one would realize the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Or that his body didn't lean into the woman's like it used to seek her warmth. It wasn't fair, Thiago knew Camille was perfect in every sense of the word. It was just that he had to force himself to fall into her touch and not think about how she used to feel, how it used to be. Or that his mind kept wondering if her new significant other meant as much to her as she meant to him — if she, too, was hoping to find a glimpse of him, of them, when looking into their eyes.

Or that, even with Camille by his side, his eyes instinctively searched the room for her. Even in a room full of art, the only person he still wanted to see was her. And when their eyes locked across the room, he felt all the air leave his lungs. Just as breathtaking as he remembered her. He quickly drifted his gaze away, knowing looking at her for too long would consume him. "Drinks?" He asked his date, forcing a smile to his face. // @moonlightedwrites

#thiago almeida*interactions.#//possibly my worst starter to date im sorry

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