#:( i liked it better when it was a song about being played like a fiddle by an authority figure

[bitegore]

If you are bad enough at hearing and good enough at interpreting snippets of text without connecting them to outside texts, a lot of Christian music sounds an awful lot like being gaslit by someone

[hyuuukais]

heyllo :3

can i request reader x chan? reader is overwhelmed but keeps it in because that’s what they see chan doing a lot of the time. but eventually it builds to a breaking point where the stress causes them to completely shut down. chan doesn’t know exactly what’s wrong so it might be cute if he just sits on the floor in front of reader and plays clips from a song he’s working on and asks for their opinion (by basically talking out loud to himself) and then after reader calms down they are able to verbalize they just need a human weighted blanket and to be told they are doing amazing and their efforts are not going unnoticed.

im fine. 🥲

just hold me, tell me you love me

pairing : chan x reader

notes : me vs the long title. anyway thank uuu for being my first request! i hope this lives up to ur expectations and can provide u some comfort 🫶 sending u hugs and love 🫂💙 sorry it's taken a bit long to get back to! kind of was getting this feeling myself and have been unable to write, but i think i'm getting back

warnings : reader is overwhelmed, mentions of anxiety, fear of opening up to someone, reader is called pet names (love, baby), reader breaks down

wc : 1.4k

All week there's been a growing pressure in your chest threatening to spill all over the floor and leave you a mess, lying on the ground with nothing else to give. Give, you've given all you can, and now that you're home, you can't do it anymore. You seek peace in the quiet of your shared bedroom, your boyfriend still at work in his studio.

Your boyfriend, who works hard day and night. Your boyfriend, who's loving and caring and sweet. Your boyfriend, who you're scared to open up to when things get really hard, because he doesn't share with you either. Although the relationship isn't fresh, going on a year and a half, there are still things you don't talk about. You don't want to burden him with your struggles when you've always been able to power through by yourself.

Fisting the sheets under you, you can feel the need to cry in your body, the hollow feeling in your chest and the tightness in your throat, but nothing comes. It's like your body knows you're too tired for even that simple of an action, for even one tear to slip. So instead, you sit the the blanket over you, face peeking out to stare at the wall with tired eyes. You can't sleep. If you close your eyes, you know you won't drift off and wake up feeling better, you'll just lie there for hours.

"Baby?"

Something spikes in you when you hear Chans voice ring out through the apartment, curling into yourself more. He shouldn't be home this early and yet, here he is, calling your name and wondering where you are; you're never in bed this early. Chan continues to call out for you until you hear the bedroom door opening quietly.

"Love?" Chans footsteps get closer, and you can feel the edge of the bed dip with his weight as he sits down. "My love..."

His hand brushes over your shoulder, but you can't face him. When you bring the blanket over your head more, he seems to get the hint, shifting to lean against the headboard next to the statue that is your body, unmoving and heavy. You can feel him fiddling beside you, and soon, a soft melody fills your ears. It's enough to distract you temporarily from the raging storm in your head, focusing on the beats, and when Chans voice comes through, it's like you can feel a sense of comfort washing over you. Although it's not enough to completely take these feelings away, you're grateful for what he's doing.

"This song has been giving me trouble," Chan comments over the music, sighing heavily. "I can't figure out if I like the chorus or not, and it feels like it's missing something in general, but I don't know what. What do you think, baby?"

Unable to answer verbally, but still wanting him to know you're listening, you roll around so you're facing him. He chuckles as you bury your face under his thigh when you see he's sitting cross-legged, the pressure on your face oddly comforting. Chan places a hand on your back, his arm resting behind your head as he rubs small circles over your thick layer of blanket. Another song starts playing after a while, another soft one, too. You relax under his touch, feeling the vibrations through his body as he hums along to this one and makes occasional comments about changes he'd like to make.

Exhaustion hits you like a ton of bricks, your eyes fluttering shut as he keep playing different songs and telling you all about them. Both of you are aware that he shouldn't be playing so much unreleased music, but all Chan cares about in this moment is you, helping you, calming you, loving you. The company will never know anyway.

"Chan," You whisper, voice barely audible. His humming stops and he pauses the music, looking down at your limp form with furrowed brows. Moving your head slightly, you're able to look up at him on an angle, the cool air of the bedroom breaching your blanket cocoon.

"What is it, baby?" Chan moves some hair from your face, leaving this palm to rest on your cheek.

"Can you just-" You clear your throat, one hand coming up to play with the hem of his shorts at his knee to calm you more. "Just hold me, tell me you love me?"

Without words, he shifts down to your level and nods. Carefully, Chan guides you to face away from him and brings you close to his body, your back pressed tightly against his chest. His chin rests on your shoulder, now enveloped inside your blanket as he holds onto you tightly, scared that if he let's go, you'll fade away. The thought of you being in so much pain, whether physical or emotional, is something he can't bear; he can't sit on the sidelines and watch you wither away. Neither of you speak as you lie there for what feels like hours, although it must only be a few minutes. The feeling of Chan's breath on your neck is oddly comforting, your own hands finding his arm around your waist and holding onto him.

Something about the way Chan is holding you, comforting you without the pressure of being asked what's wrong, has you finally breaking down. It starts small, holding back a few tears, but a few escaping despite your efforts. Then Chan shifts closer, pressing soft lips on the skin behind your ear.

"I love you, you know that? So, so much," He whispers, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he buries his face into your hair. "You're doing amazing, baby, and I mean that. I thought... I thought something might have been wrong, but I didn't know how to go about this. I'm sorry it got to this point, I should have asked. I want you to know you can always turn to me, okay?"

His words have the dam breaking and soon enough, the sobs ripping from your chest have you gasping and hiccupping like there's no tomorrow. You don't register the way Chan tries to soothe you as he pulls you around and into his chest. Subconsciously, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and roll his body onto yours, his head sitting in the crook of your neck. The weight feels nice, grounding, and you can finally hear Chan speaking again.

"Shhh, it's okay, you're okay." Chan whispers into the skin of your neck, one of his hands smoothing back your hair. "You're okay, I'm here, now breathe, alright? Breathe, baby."

He inhales deeply, and you do your best to mimic his movements. It's shaky, but you're doing it.

"Good job, you're doing great," Chan keeps his voice low as he speaks. "Keep breathing."

It gets to the point where you don't need to think about breathing anymore, your head throbbing slightly from the sudden outburst of emotion. Chan's body stays on yours, but he props himself up enough to look at you, his palm on your cheek and his thumb wiping away any remaining tears. You can barely look him in the eye.

All he does is stare at you with those pretty, dark eyes, but you realize there's a dampness under them matching yours. You open your mouth to question it, but he shakes his head, a soft smile on his face.

"I don't want you to be in pain alone ever again." His thumb continues to caress your cheek, even though the tears have dried. "I love you too much to let you go through that. Whatever's going on, tell me when you're ready, yeah? For now, just let me gush about my beautiful partner until they're feeling better."

You can't help the small laugh that escapes you as Chan surges up to pepper your face in kisses, saying praises in between each one. With every kiss, you can feel your face heating up until you try and cover it, but he just grabs your wrists and pulls your hands away. Eventually, he slows down, pressing one last kiss directly on your lips, and settles back onto you.

"Let's stay like this for a while," Chan suggests, knowing you need it, but so does he. "My favourite place is in your arms."

-

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom

[hoe4sports]

“Love me to my bones”

Alexia Putellas x reader

A/N: Part two of the stargazing series. It’s based off of the song Stargazing by Myles Smith. P3 can be found here. Triggers includes swearing.

-

05.37. There was thunder outside causing you to be held awake. The heavy drumming on your windows definitely didn’t help on your anxiety. You were staring at the clock on your nightstand while your roommates soft snores were lingering in the room. 05.38. More thunder. Four rounds of thunder within one minute. 3 seconds away from you. For a hot second; you thought you had lost all common sense as you tossed yourself back in your bed and covered your head with a pillow. You didn’t just hate thunder, you despised it. It made all the anxiety you had piled up from football shoved underneath the carpet come alive. You weren’t particularly traumatised, but you had been tough on yourself as a kid. It was hard being compared to Alexia all the time, and it ended up with you having to work twice as hard as her. She was a natural, a magician with the ball. You however, were a not so much natural. But hey, you know what they all say; hard work over talent.

The scrutinising buzzing of Claudia’s alarm woke you up at 6. You were two ringings away from chucking your phone at Claudia to wake her up. It was weird staying with anyone else during away-games, but Alexia had requested her own room for the first time since you started playing together as kids. The wish had come up after she’d talk to Olga about her spacing out, only for Olga to blame it on Alexia for being so busy with football and her teammates. You were surprised by how much it hurt to be wrecked for your usual partner, but you accepted it. What hurt was that Alexia hadn’t reached out to you. She didn’t answer your texts, your calls and she hadn’t given you an explanation. Your explanation was made of giving her the benefit of the doubt. That’s why you had been paired with Claudia. Claudia wasn’t the worst person to camp up with, but by the judgment of her alarm; she wasn’t the best either. “Ah, rise and shine! Ready for another day of football?” Claudia sang after she’d turned off the alarm. The look on your face made her jump a little. “Oh my, Y/N, what happened to you?!” Claudia exclaimed dramatically while hopping up from her bed to touch your face and study the tiredness up close. “I couldn’t sleep, the thunder was horrendous” you mumbled as Claudia moved your face around while she fiddled with the visible bags under your eyes. “Ai, I think you’ll need something better than coffee and face cream” she said blatantly causing you to whack her playfully in her thigh. Truth was that Alexia also hates thunder, so you knew that she was awake as well. You would normally sit together during thunderstorms in the nurturing company of each other. You had been each other’s safe space for years on end, sharing all your secrets and worst fears. That time seemed to had come to an end now that Alexia had Olga. 20 years chucked out of the window. The only comfort you had was that you knew Alexia first.

Claudia dragged you along downstairs for breakfast with the rest of the girls. You felt like you had been run over twice and it felt like your brain was about to pound out of your skull. A few of the girls were already downstairs; Ingrid, Mapi, Caroline, Marta, Patri and Irene. You flashed a half assed smile before you grabbed a plate and placed fruit on your plate. The lack of appetite wasn’t because of poor selection in the breakfast buffet; you could never eat properly after having nightmares or not having any sleep. The chair next to Ingrid was empty so you flopped down next to the Norwegian before taking a bite of the watermelon you had picked up. Ingrid was someone you could trust, whom you could rely on. She would never tell anyone and she would never judge. It was surprising to you when she told you that she wasn’t the captain of the Norwegian national team.

«Y/N? You look like someone forced you to do algebra all night!" Mapi exclaimed causing Ingrid to shot her a look. "Uhm, yea. There was thunder so i couldnt sleep" you shrugged while munching on the bright red strawberries you had collected from the buffet. The juiciness was refreshing for your dehydrated body. "Ai, How did Alexia sleep through that!” Mapi said as she popped a piece of bread into her mouth. “Where exactly is Alexia? Didn’t she come down with you?” Irene stated. The whole lot of girls looked at you as they quieted down. It felt like someone had put a spotlight on your head and you felt your cheeks burn. Everyone knew you and Alexia were two peas in a pod, so everyone also knew that something was wrong. You decided to tell the truth and play it off cool. “She wanted to have her own room, I’m sharing with Pina” you explained as you looked to the wall next to the girls so you could avoid eye contact. The group went dead quiet. The whole room felt like it was closing in on you. The air felt hot. The ringing in your ears were gradually taking a turn for the worse. You could feel the tears pressing.

“I’m gonna go get ready for practice” you practically commanded as you shoved your chair out and stomped up the stairs to the your room in the 11th floor. You quickly opted for the shower, ripping the clothes off your body as fast as you could. The water was turned to a cold setting and the icy water made you feel more awake than ever. It sharpened your body and your mind to the point where you had forgotten about Alexia. Eventually, you got out and pulled on your shorts, t-shirt and your wind jacket. Claudia was laying on her bed watching TikTok as you came out of the bathroom. “That took forever!” Claudia sighted as she looked up at you. “Yea, I forgot the time” you muttered back as you slipped on your trainers. “Ready for practice?”

-

The practice hadn’t really been on your side. You had taken a tumble mid sprint and busted your head open. The medics had forced you to get a huge bandaid in the middle of your forehead. It looked awful, and gruelling. Later that same practice, you had managed to step on the ball during a drill and once again face planted into the grass. The last little slip up was when you got split into two team and Alexia had knocked your right out on your back causing you to black out for a hot second. This really wasnt your lucky day. You got into the wardrobe after practice and stayed behind to shower alone. The girls could get quite loud so you sometimes liked to stay behind. The hotel was in a walking distance to the arena, so it wouldn’t be an issue. After you came out of the shower, you bumped into Alexia.

“Oh, sorry” you said as you kept your head down low as you passed her. “What’s up with you today?” She asked with an attitude as she turned around to look at you. You stood towards the locker as you shrugged. “Nothing”. Alexia sighted as she crossed her arms. “I can tell that there is something going on. I know you Y/N better than anyone on the team.” Alexia said as you tried to get your clothes on as you felt your blood boil. You ignored her chucking your cleats into your bag with your dirty clothes. “Y/N, I know you can hear me! What’s going on with you today?” Alexia’s voice seemed to be a mix of annoyance and worry. You could hear her footsteps coming closer to you. It flipped for you when she touched your shoulder.

“Y/N. Come on, talk to me. You are my bestfriend. I love you and I won’t judge you.” she tried again. The emotions you were bearing felt like a kettle about to boil over. Like the moment when your acl snaps and the whole world goes quiet. Like before you take a penalty. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Your had gripped your bag so hard that it started to hurt your hands. Your breathing was becoming more and more heavy. You turned around to face Alexia.

“Y/N-“

“Really Alexia? Are you fucking dumb? You leave me hanging landing me with Claudia without giving me a heads up! You are an ASS at practice. You stop texting me, you stop partnering up with me, you stop being my best friend. You don’t give me any reason, any explanation. You throw 20 years in the trash within a heartbeat! And you tell me that you know me? That you love me? You clearly don’t fucking know or love me at all!”

“Y/N.. I-“

“Oh my god, Alexia. You really don’t know when to stop?! I’m such an idiot for loving you! I’m such an idiot for loving you more than I love myself, more than football, more than anything! You threw me away like I was nothing. And for what? For a fucking girl, Alexia! You don’t do that, people don’t do that to someone that has supported them for 20 years!”

Alexia’s eyes had tears in them. Her confusion was fogging her brain. She was longing for your touch, but she couldn’t tell you. She couldn’t tell you how Olga had picked a fight with her about you. How jealous Olga was. How she felt like she had to protect you from her own girlfriend. You couldn’t tell her how you were craving her touch. How you loved her first. How you had fallen in love with her before Olga was there. How you had liked her since you were teens. Maybe that was your way out of this situation, of this mess that had been made by you, Alexia and Olga.

“God Alexia, I love you. I love you so fucking much it hurts. I have loved you for decades. I loved you before Olga did. I was in love with you, Alexia. For years! So please, leave me the fuck alone.”

You bolted towards the door of the wardrobe leaving Alexia stunned. You felt embarrassed, but you were hurt. As you stormed out of the room, you smacked the door shut while you paced out as fast as your legs could. You needed to get away from Alexia. And you didn’t care what you had to sacrifice for that to happen.

Things between Olga and Alexia weren’t how you had assumed they were. It wasn’t really “Olga and Alexia” anymore. But Alexia hadn’t told you yet. How they had broken up the day you left for the away game. She wanted to tell you in person, somewhere private. Where nobody could hear her other than you. Where she could pour out her real feelings to you. She wanted to tell you that nobody was worth risking your friendship. That you were her bestfriend. That no girl was ever gonna get to ruin your friendship. That you were her ride or die. But she couldn’t tell you, because you were long gone. Alexia didn’t know what to do or how to make things right; but she knew that she needed to make amends.

[morbus-mlm]

Gravity Falls Headcanons/Things I Think About Often (Prev)

⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋ ⍋

- Mabel's modern artist who we heavily associate her with is Chappell Roan, especially her with the song HOT TO GO! Dipper deserves the same treatment but with Conan Gray okay. I need to see an edit of this silly guy set to Lonely Dancers.

- Pacifica lets her natural hair out once she leaves her family. It's closer to an ash blonde

- Wendy has always been a horror movie girlie, she's seen it all.

- Some of Wendy's friends made those "summoning ___ at 4 am" videos because they were bored, what else is there to do around this town anyways?

- pacifica is a youtuber, she's also a pretty sucessful pro-gamer. She is canonically very good with fps, so she decided to take it to a pro level.

- dipper creates some sort of mystery solving/ghost hunting/conspiracy analyzing show. It's a continuation on stuff he did in childhood (Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained).

- Mabel cannot be contained by a job title, she has done everything and anything creative. I feel like her main job would be something like a tattoo artist but on the side she sells sweaters on etsy, does drawing comms, animated, made music, she has her hands everywhere.

- Mabel, Paz, & Dipper will sometimes visit each other when working. I like the idea of Paz guesting on an episode of Dipper's mystery show, Mabel trying to play fps with Paz, Dipper visiting Mabel's tattoo shop and getting pierced there.

- Soos' keyboard getting decorated by the people he considers family. It starts with Mabel putting on like, five stickers on the bottom of it. Stan & Ford both carve into the sides of it. Dipper draws on it in marker. Melody writes words of affection on the sides/an inside joke between them. Abuelita is the one who etches Soos' name onto the keyboard case. Wendy writes like a cool, motivational quote on the case.

- the Hand Witch, her whole situation is looking towards the better. She and her man read as that one meme, "my witch gf" "me letting her do whatever the hell she wants"

- Wendy modifies her furbies. She is absolutely one of those people who makes long neck furbies and puts lights in their eyes/ears, she gives them hands.

- Emma-May & Fiddleford do not reconnect. Emma doesn't know about Fidd's work in the portal, but she does know about him losing his sanity. She does feel sympathetic and understanding towards his situation, but ultimately she doesn't want to force a romantic dynamic with him.

- There are parts of her that have moved on, there are parts of her that still feel anger, and sadness over what happened between them. She's happy that he's in a better state now and reconnecting with their son. Emma-May writes to Fiddleford, hoping that he has a good recovery.

- Fiddleford writes a single letter to her. He writes that he is sorry for not being their to support her, to help her raise their child. I feel like he would be very apologetic but not self-aggrandizing.

- There are parts of him that are still angry at himself, and ones that still wish to avoid dealing with such a difficult and messy situation. But he is a man who moves forward. He writes that he's grateful for Emma-May's wishes, and he wishes her well in return.

- Although their romantic bond with each other has severed, their relationship ends on a kind note.

- ford plays the fiddle, fiddleford plays the banjo.

- If Ford and Fidd were in a romantic relationship, those two would be reserved in public, but real tender in private. Those two read to me as more reserved with their romances.

- Stan after a while just tunes out their calls to each other. They will get in the fucking, "no you hang up" loop, or the "ily" loop

- they’re both pretty healthy when it comes to communication, boundaries, stuff like that. Ford drops the banjo curfew/cutoff when Guck lives at the shack/sets up his trailer next to it.

- Ford unlearns a lot of things instilled in him as a child. the ideas of him being the golden boy or something special (both in the positive and negative sense), are something he now recognizes as ideas, not reality.

- this realization really sets in for him due to a lot of reading, him catching up on modern sciences, including psychology. (it's mostly him almost losing stan)

- Stanley is trying to do the same with his own thoughts of being the screw up, the scapegoat, it's hard for him in different ways. Stanley is a person who, "would insult himself first before anyone else could get to it" without his bravado+con-man persona.

- But they both put in the work. They're good brothers, they help each other.

- both the grunkles favorite sweet after all these years is saltwater taffee, 

- I feel like Pacifica connects well with the adults in the town who aren't her parents. She doesn't exactly see any person as a parental figure, I think she just absorbs advice and experience from the people around her yk. Like her and Lazy Susan definitely have a stronger bond than Paz and her mom.

- Bill never really comes back, he just speaks like he has. In TBoB he acts like he's tough shit, but ultimately he's still in the psych ward-- like. This being has no real authority. I like to think therapy is working out for him, he has good days and bad days.

- Just based on my recollection, McGucket is a very agile man. He seems to be able to crawl up & down surfaces not built for climbing.

- I like to think that post series he takes up mountain climbing/hiking because by this point, he's less scared of supernatural beings compared to when he first came to Gravity Falls.

- McGucket dressing himself, McGucket finally being in a position where he can afford different clothing other than his slacks, him feeling present in his own body again. McGucket in green cowboy wear, (look i really like this Appalachian man, i would very much like to see him old and happy).

- Mystery trio (Stan, Ford, & Fidd) post-cannon. The twins travel the world, occasionally bringing Fidd along for the ride. Fidd is their guy in the chair, the person creating tech on the fly, their #1 man. These three men are absolutely on their way to adventure.

- the X-Men movies hold a soft spot for the Pines Family. They have all of them on DVD, usually the collectors editions. All of the Pines have a crush on Logan. The Stans both love older Logan—

- Mabel's room/home would be filled with little collectables (like tchotchkes or sonny angels)

- Stanley meets the Peanuts artists/goes to Knotsberry Farm. Stan gets a hug from Snoopy and he starts bawling.

- Shermie. I do not care if he is the elder or the younger, all I know is that he is the calmer sibling of the three. Is he well adjusted, (no, you kinda can't be if you were raised by Fillbrick), but he is the most normal.

- Stan's art is clearly influenced by the Peanuts, Ford's art influences are 80s sci-fi + realism. Shermie, his is Hanna-Barbera.

[hysteria-things]

Love your two works! Could you write something about Matt dating a girl in college and his reaction to meeting all her friends?

BELLA NOTTE

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your college friends have been asking to meet your boyfriend for a while. he’s visiting for a weekend, but the downside is that he’s terrified to meet them.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: anxiety, cutesy fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 865

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thank you anon! i hope you like this. i loved writing it :)

the laughter died down after a few minutes, you and your two closest college friends hanging out in their dorm. your friends sat in their assigned bed while you sat in the beanbag in the corner. it was thursday night on your lovely college campus.

“so y/n.” your friend jasmine starts, throwing her now empty soda bottle with the food bags scattered in the middle of the room. “when are we going to meet that boyfriend of yours?”

you smile, a light blush forming on your cheeks. you go to school in LA, meaning that visits to matt or vice versa are easy. the only thing is that jasmine and sage have yet to meet him.

they ask about him a lot, and your answer is always ‘soon.’

however, matt is supposed to come tomorrow and stay the weekend.

“for real, girl. i’m starting to think your delusions are getting to the best of you and he’s not real.” sage jokes, licking her spoon with ice cream on it.

“he is real.” you say. “lucky for you guys, he’s coming to visit for the weekend tomorrow. i can tell him you guys are dying to meet him.”

the duo let out girlish squeals. “this is so exciting! he sounds like such a good guy.” jasmine smiles over at you.

you return it and nod. “he is.”

matt knocks at your dorm door in the late afternoon, making you spring up from your bed and open it. “matt!”

“hey, baby.” he greets, pecking you on the lips before entering your single dorm.

he sets his backpack down next to your bed and rubs his sweaty hands on his pants. “so, uh… when are they coming?”

“around seven. we still got a few hours.” you walk over to your bed and sit. you scan matt’s face, and you can tell he’s nervous.

the lip-biting, the hand fiddling, the looking at the ground.

“you have nothing to worry about, love,” you reassure, grabbing his hands and rubbing your thumbs on them to calm him.

“i know.” he sighs, sitting down beside you. “can we watch lady and the tramp?”

one thing about matt is that whenever he’s feeling anxious about something, he turns to binging disney movies to distract him. it’s one of the many qualities you love about him because even at twenty, he doesn’t let the kid in him go.

the closer seven rolls around, matt’s fiddling and lip-biting don’t get any better. your head rests on his chest, the both of you facing the small TV you have. you can hear his heartbeat.

“talk to me, matt,” you say calmly, being that all you hear in your ear is the erratic pump of his heart.

“is it stupid for me to be so scared?” he asks lowly, playing with your hair.

you lean off of him so you can face his front. he has a look of worry on his face, and it makes your heartache.

“not at all. it’s normal to be nervous when meeting new people.” you stroke his face with your hand, and he leans into your touch. he kisses your palm.

“if you get too anxious, i can ask them to leave. they won’t mind at all.”

he exhales. “thank you.”

bella notte starts to play on the TV, and the music makes you smile. out of all the binging disney movies with matt, this song has to be your number one.

“listen.” you exclaim, pointing to the TV. “it’s going to be a bella notte. a beautiful night. trust me, okay?”

your disney reference forces the cutest smile on his face and he nods.

you kiss him on the head and as if on queue, a knock floods the room. “come in!”

sage is the one to walk in first, jasmine following behind. she glances at the TV and gasps. “omg i didn’t know you guys were watching a movie. we can come back when it’s over—”

“not at all.” matt smiles at them. he takes your hand in his and squeezes. “why not watch it with us? i’m matt, by the way.”

“i’m sage, and this is jasmine. it’s so nice to finally meet you! y/n doesn’t shut up about you.”

“sometimes it gets a little too intense.” jasmine says, but in a joking manner.

“sorry, i love him,” you say coldly. you hear matt giggle.

the girls get comfortable in chairs and join you guys in the movie.

as the minutes go by, you sense that matt starts to calm down a little. the whole time his hand is in yours, playing with the ring he got you for one of your anniversaries.

he chirps into some conversations, and the night is better than you can imagine.

matt wakes up the next morning to the sun beaming through your curtains. what he didn’t wake up to was you.

he looked around the dorm room, but you were nowhere to be seen. he groggily reached to his phone to see if you texted him but instead found a note on top of it.

he started to read the small piece of paper, smiling like a fool while doing so.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn

[bitterchocoo]

A Red Herring

Scar | M. Reader as Sparkle [Honkai Star Rail]

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"A thousand faces in a thousand places... can you find the answer?"

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The cosmos is a vast place where many planets resigns. How fun~ So many worlds, so many universes, so many planets. What better way to spend time traveling the universe and spreading elation~? And this world.. one that has something called Tacet Discords? Oh how fun~

Walking through the extreme terrains the man merely smiles, humming a song and skipping along with no care whatsoever. Those.. Tacet Discords were certainly something but they're no match for someone of his.. expertise. It's bound for him to wreaked havoc upon this world. Because why not? It's be fun!

But it seems that his presence.. had caught the attention of someone...

"Hey, let me ask you something..." He stopped in his tracks, turning his head to glance at the stranger who decided to be oh so interested in him. "Is following me around like a lost puppy your way of getting my attention? You've been doing this for nearly half a system hour."

"Really now? I didn't notice! Time sure flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?" The stranger chuckles as he slowly approach the other with a huge grin on his face. This individual is quite.. entertaining.. playing the Tacet Discords like a fiddle.. it's rare to find such a person. How could he resist himself from following an entertaining man in red?

"Spare me." The man groans in response as he turns around to meet him face to face, he was about to say something before noticing a certain feature on him. "Beautiful eyes though." He may not be in the mood to deal with him, but he knows a beauty when he saw one. Such pretty heterochromia eyes..

"Why thank you~" His grin seems to widen at the compliment, stopping in his tracks, a few feet away from the man in red. "I'm Scar, it's a pleasure to meet a person like you~" Such an interesting man. One that's... foolish enough.. to play with Tacet Discords as if they are mere stray animals.. it's truly is such a pleasure to meet a man of his caliber. A man who uses the line between being a genius and being foolish like a jump rope.

"My eyes might not be as pretty as yours, but there's no problem with my vision..." The other began slowly. "The Fractsidus are quite notorious throughout the galaxy.. liars, thieves, social manipulators, wolves in sheep's clothing..." He stated with clear annoyance in his tone.

"Takes one to know one, dear."

Oh ho. He's playing that card huh? "Cut it out and go home, you slick talker. We are Fools, but we aren't stupid." Fools? Ah! So that's why this man in red is so interesting.. "Ah! So you're one of those elusive Masked Fools! No wonder you're so fascinating." Scar commented with a chuckle. Now this had just gotten far more entertainingentertaining. Never would he thought he'll ever meet such an elusive figure.

"Why don't you join me? I'd say the Fractsidus suits you more."

He sighs at Scar words. "Listen, little fishy. If you want the Masked Fools to get onboard, you need to figure out what it is The Laughter wants."

"The Masked Fools? Oh no no no no… my dear, I want you." Scar laughs. It doesn't matter that the other is a Masked Fool, the fact that there's someone out there who willingly toys with the Tacet Discords like how he does? Now that's a find. A rare find. And no way is he going to let this one go.

That bold statement results in a laugh coming from the Fool. Oh how flattering. Someone actually wanted him? Just like that? Well he's on a ride for the unexpected. "Scar was it? Then you can call me [Name]."

----------

A Fool and a Fractsidus.. what's the worst that could happen?

[da-rulah]

The Mayor's Daughter - Mary Goore x f!Reader [Part 6]

Summary: It was only a matter of time before you asked to see Mary's band, but he can't help the rising anxiety that you might just hate what he does… Still, he concedes, and you head to their show with him. If you thought Mary was hot before, oh boy… Now he's irresistible.

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: Teasing, sexual tension, cum play, sexual harassment, unwanted physical contact, use of a homophobic slur, violence, oral sex (m receiving), throat fucking, masturbation (f), cum swallowing, cum play 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3 | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

A/N: Well, look who's back... Mary's here. 😈 Thank you to all those who've waited to patiently for this next chapter. I hope you won't be disappointed... As always, thank you to me besties @her-satanic-wiles and @angellayercake for their encouragement and beta reading services - I adore you both.

AND, this one's dedicated to @kissingghouls, who had a birthday during the week and tested a little snippet of this chapter out for me 👀 I hope you love the rest of it 💕

You could have lay there all night. Truthfully, you couldn’t think of anywhere else in the world you’d rather be right now besides buried in blankets and pillows in Mary’s arms, looking out at the moon rippling across the water of the lake. The radio still played from the cab of his van, and you were content to listen to Mary singing along to his favourite songs under his breath.  

You could feel him vibrating beneath you as he sang, your back pressed to his chest and laying against him between his legs. Every so often, he’d press a kiss to the side of your head, or readjust the way his hands lay across your stomach with his fingers intertwined with yours. You were just so comfortable, never having felt so safe and wanted before.  

“Do you sing in your band, too?” you asked him, fiddling with the rings on his fingers absentmindedly. 

“Hm? Oh, uh... Yeah I guess I do.” You turned your head to look at him, suspicion creasing your brow. 

“You guess?” 

“Well, it’s kinda more... growling? Some screaming. Bit of singing,” he shrugged, a little sheepish. 

“Aw, and here’s me thinking I was the only one you growled for,” you teased, which earned you a laugh.  

“Well you’re the only one who can drag it outta me like that,” he flirted, bouncing his eyebrows and planting a lingering kiss to the top of your cheek.  

You got comfortable again, settling into his chest and wrapping his arms tighter around you. A few moments of blissful quiet passed as you thought about him on stage; what would he sound like? Look like? Was he good? You wanted to know. 

“I wanna see you play,” you said earnestly. “when are you playing next?” 

Mary clammed up a little behind you, suddenly wracked with insecurity and anxiety at the thought of you coming to one of his gigs. It’d feel pretty shitty if you didn’t like his music, and he was very aware that it wasn’t for everyone. While you never complained at the heavier stations on his van radio, you also didn’t strike him as the type to enjoy death metal. You were merely being polite, he was sure of it...  

But then, this was him stereotyping again. Consciously now, he could see it and call himself out before the words left his mouth.  

“Uh... We actually have one on Saturday.” You noticed the nervousness in his tone, the hesitation. You understood why; it must be a little scary to show someone you care about the passion that drives you as fiercely as music drove Mary. 

“I don’t have to come if that’s too soon, I get it,” you tried to reassure him, turning around and smiling sweetly at him. But even that was enough to quell some of his anxiety, just your consideration.  

“You know what?” he sat upright then, angling you a little better while the blankets wrapped around you fell to your waist, exposing you both to the colder night air. “I want you there. Even if you hate us, be nice to see a pretty face out there for me.” 

You rolled your eyes at him playfully, “You just want a groupie, huh?” 

“Hmm, maybe,” he hummed, grinning cheekily and leaning into you to press his lips to yours. You giggled against his lips, letting him curl around you as you melted into each other. It felt so easy to you now, so unbelievably natural. You had to ask yourself why you had taken so long to get here. You could have had this all long, if the pair of you weren’t so stuck in those stereotypical little bubbles of yours.  

But you were here now, and that’s what mattered. Not without its future flaws, you were sure, but it was a start.  

Mary finished off the last song of practise without issue. By now, the band knew every song inside and out, so band practise was only ever a formality, or an excuse to get together and jam. But Davey always called one just before a show, in case there were any issues to iron out and to put together a running order for the setlist. He had a unit where they practised often, all their stage equipment stored in there save for their guitars. 

“So where you been, Goore? Dropped off the face of the earth lately. Last time I saw you was days ago at the garage...” Forrest smirked with an accusation brewing behind his eyes – Mary could tell. He continued winding up the cable in his hands to avoid his eye contact, shaking his head with a smile he could barely hide no matter how hard he tried. That’s what thinking of you did to him. 

“Ah y’know, about,” he avoided. 

“Bullshit, you got a call and bolted. I remember.” 

Mary’s arms slumped by his sides in exasperation, the curled up cable flapping against his thigh.  

“Yeah, and before that last time we saw you was the bicentennial... Fuck’s up with you?” Jed was interested now, shoving his drumsticks into his beat up old backpack that had seen better days. Even Davey who was slotting his bass into its case very carefully – that thing was his baby, often reminding everyone it cost more than their rents combined – was suddenly very interested in where the elusive Mary Goore had been the last couple of weeks. 

“You can’t even hide the smile. It’s a girl, ain’t it?” he chimed in, teasing him like a kid in a playground. “You gone soft?” 

“Nah just had a lot of guitars to work on at the shop lately,” Mary shrugged, tucking the cable away into his own guitar case. 

“Your pants are scorching right now, Mare...” Jed grinned, hopping up to sit on an amp stack.  

Mary finally stood up straight and sighed, looking around at the guys who all had expectant looks on their faces. He knew he’d have to tell them eventually – they were only going to meet you in a few days anyway. He can’t hide you forever, especially when he’d been so sensitive about being hidden himself in your world... He was many things, but a hypocrite he was not. 

“Alright, fine... Yeah, there’s a girl.” The nerves were evident in his voice, quieter and a little stuttery. Of course, the guys all jumped down his throat with “ooh”s and “wheeey”s, Jed even shoving his shoulder in a weird masculine display of celebration.  

“Been holed up somewhere with some broad, ey?” he waggled his eyebrows at him. “Come on then, who is she?” 

Mary was clamming up, having no idea how they were going to react to this. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shuffled on his feet. Forrest noticed his change, and squinted at him as he observed.  

This wasn’t like him. Forrest was the most mature of the guys, had known Mary the longest – since they were kids – and he was very aware there were multiple versions of him. The front he showed the world, and the sensitive and broken guy underneath. Seeing him get nervous about a girl though... that had never happened before. 

“You wouldn’t really know her, she’s not really... from our circle...” Mary dodged the truth as long as he could, but it was inevitable.  

“Yeah no shit, between us we’ve exhausted our “circle”,” Davey laughed, making air quotes with his fingers. Mary winced at the thought of his promiscuous reputation; not a past he was all that proud of... 

“You remember back at the bar, a few weeks ago...?” he started, and Jed jumped in immediately. 

“That girl you stormed right past? You went back?” He leaned forward where he sat on the amp, excited to hear the gory details he definitely was not getting.  

“No-” 

“No fucking way,” Davey jumped in, recalling the night in question. “You’re still fucking her majesty?”  

“She’s not-” Mary tried to get a word in, but Davey and Jed were having too much fun with this, interrupting him. 

“The Mayor’s daughter? Fuckin’ hell, Mare,” he laughed with uncontained glee at the prospect. “I know she’s a hot piece of ass, but seriously? Girls like her ain’t into guys like us.” 

Mary’s fists clenched at his sides. It was becoming clear the stereotypes were not contained to just you and him, but you’d both grown up in a world perpetuated by them. Forrest watched the scene unfold quietly, observing Mary’s reactions that were so out of pocket for him. 

“Well she did fuck him in a public bathroom that night, Jed,” Davey joined Jed’s delight. “Daddy’s girl’s got a kinky side.”  

“Shut the fuck up, Davey,” Forrest interjected on Mary’s behalf. Everyone’s heads whipped toward him, including Mary’s. “Fucking neanderthals, man...” The smiles from their faces were wiped clean, their proverbial tails hanging between their legs.  

Forrest walked to stand beside Mary, folding his arms across his chest. “This could be a dangerous game to play, Mare. If her dad finds out...” 

“He already kicked her out. For... other reasons...” Mary didn’t want to divulge too much of your shit to them, that wasn’t his place. He feared he’d already said too much when he saw the looks of shock and confusion on their faces. “She’s been staying with me the last few days.”  

“Move pretty quick, don’t you?” laughed Jed, who was thrown a look of caution by Forrest and immediately shut up again with a mumbled, “sorry”.  

“So you like her then, huh?” Forrest enquired with a smug smile. Mary nodded, biting his thumb nail. “She coming to the show?” 

Jed snickered at the thought, effectively saying “yeah, as if she’d be into our music” without having to say the actual words. Mary shot him a warning glare. 

“Yeah, she is actually,” he didn’t take his eyes off Jed, just begging him to say one more shitty thing. He didn’t.  

“Nice, well I’ll train the apes up and have ‘em civilised for the lady. Don’t worry about it.” Forrest slapped a hand on Mary’s back in support, heading back over to pack up and clicking his fingers in the other’s direction to get them moving too.  

Mary was grateful for Forrest stepping in like that. There was a deeper bond with him than the others, not just on account of the longevity of their friendship, but he’d been there through all of Mary’s shit. For a long time, Forrest was the only friend he had and if anybody understood him, it was him.  

Forrest had his own shit too – neglectful parents, like Mary, but in different ways. High-powered, career driven types. They’d leave him with a nanny and swan off on business trips and fancy vacations, so he knew loneliness in his own way too.  

While his friends were always a good laugh, Davey and Jed just weren’t on quite the same wavelength. Where Forrest and Mary had matured a little, grown up with a smidge of respect, they were trailing behind. They were still young men, trapped in rebellion, angst and male bravado. They needed reigning in from time to time, usually by Mary’s or Forrest’s hand but on more than one occasion they’d had their asses kicked outside a bar for their mouth. The point is, they were learning. Slowly, but they were learning...  

Once the guys packed up their stuff – largely in silence – Davey and Jed muttered a ‘see ya later’ as they filtered out of the unit, but Forrest hung back as Mary rolled down the shutters and padlocked them shut. 

“Hey Mare, does uh... Does she know?” Forrest asked, his voice low as the others walked down the alley of other units just ahead of them. 

“Know what?” he asked, a little confused. “That you guys made a bet with me the first night? Yeah she knew that then, we laughed about it,” he shrugged.  

“No, I didn’t mean that,” Forrest scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He hated bringing this up, it was such a sore subject for Mary... “Does she know... what her dad did?” 

Mary’s eyes widened as it hit him – no, you didn’t know that. Mary hadn’t divulged that much to you, and he didn’t exactly intend to...  

“No. She doesn’t need to,” he shrugged nonchalantly, avoiding the subject. Forrest didn’t press the matter, not wanting to drag Mary down that road any more than he already had. Instead, they took a few steps in silence.  

“So go on then, tell me what she’s like...” Forrest nudged his shoulder as the two of them walked out to the parking lot. Mary smiled at the ground, babbling and singing your praises for as long as Forrest would allow him.  

Watching Mary apply his make-up was becoming one of your favourite past times. He was so particular about it, specifically tonight as he applied it in the dingy little mirror in the corner of their dressing room. Day to day, he cared a little less but tonight was important – every gig was, to him.  

It became very apparent to you very quickly that he took his shows very seriously. As much as he was there to have fun, this was more than just a hobby to him. He wanted this to go somewhere, to make something of himself. This was a dream that he’d worked his skinny little ass off for, and so everything had to be just right, his before-show rituals performed the same as always.  

But there you sat, watching him from the battered two-seater couch in the room as he added the final touches to his skull paint. He pulled back from the mirror, looking at his reflection and smirking with a nod of satisfaction. But then he caught you in that mirror behind him, watching him without an attempt to look away.  

“Lookin’ good, Goore,” you told him, leaning forward on your elbows, chin resting in your palm.  

“I guess, but it’s missing something...” He seemed unbothered, making no move to add any more paints.  

“The blood, right?” you asked, but he shrugged.  

“Wanna try something new. Get over here, doll,” he instructed, beckoning you over. You rose from your seat, closing the distance between you both. He leaned back onto the sink, folding his arms over his chest as you got a little closer than necessary, stood between his feet and leaning your hands on the edges of the sink. Mere inches separated you, and you waited for him to continue. 

“That’s a pretty shade of lipstick you got on tonight,” he flirted, pulling your bottom lip down with his thumb and inspecting the red residue that lingered on it when he pulled back.  

“You should recognise it, not the first time I’ve worn it for you.” If he remembered right, he’d know you wore it the first time he’d snuck in through your bedroom window; the same pretty shade of blood red. “You asked me back then if I thought it would look good on you, and then you kissed me.” 

“I did, didn’t I?” he mused, feigning thoughtfulness. “And it did look good on me...” You giggled at that, and it damn near sent Mary to his knees right there and then. He would never get fucking tired of that giggle. “Have you got it on you?” he asked, before he could get too distracted by that pretty little sound. 

“Of course,” you said, patting the little purse hanging from your shoulder and down by your hip. 

“Good, you might need a touch up when I’m done with you,” he smirked. “Think you can make some pretty little lipstick marks for me?” You nodded, moving in to kiss him immediately but he stopped you, his finger on your lip. You pouted, sagging your shoulders.  

He pulled his finger from your lips and pointed it to his cheek bone, where the black met the white of his thin and chalky paints. You took the initiative, and stood up on your toes to reach, planting a very deliberate kiss to the area. When you pulled back, you marvelled at your work; the prettiest lip stain sat where you’d pressed your lips against him. Mary turned his head to look sideways into the mirror behind him, smirking at the transfer.  

“Perfect, need more though,” he said, turning back to you and pointing now at his jawline on the other side of his face. You obliged eagerly, lingering just a little longer this time and pressing your body against his where he leaned on the sink. You could feel his body tense under you, like he was trying to act cool and aloof but fighting an urge rising inside him... 

“Can I choose a spot?” you teased by his ear, letting your breasts press into his chest just a little...  

“Choose wisely, doll...” he warned, with no real warning behind it whatsoever. But you already had a spot in mind...  

You tucked your head just under his chin, letting your warm breath fan over the expanse of skin around his neck before gently placing your lips directly over his Adam’s apple. You felt it bob as he swallowed with anxiety, the tension of holding back his urges to devour you becoming almost unbearable. You loved that you had this effect on him... He was supposed to be this cocky, self-assured little badass; so how come you could have him tensing and straining with just a few simple, light kisses? Because you drove him wild. 

You lifted your hands from the edges of the sink, instead settling them on his waist while you parted your lips against his neck, letting your tongue lap at the skin briefly before pulling back with a smirk just as he let out a hum of satisfaction. You saw his head thrown back, his eyes shut just before he realised you’d disappeared and snapped his gaze back to you. The look on his face was priceless, silently asking you why the hell you’d stopped.  

“Didn’t wanna smudge it,” you shrugged, smirking. 

“You fucking minx,” he chuckled.  

“One more,” you told him, digging through your purse to add another layer of red to your lips so you could leave the most definitive print this time. Then you leaned in one more time, as if you were going to kiss him on the lips – which frankly, by now, he was desperate for. But you dodged his advance and pressed your lips just to the corner of his mouth, planting a firm, red lip stain so prettily for him.  

“There,” you leaned back, still crowding his space and holding his waist, “looks good.” 

“Not fair of you to tease me like that when the guys are gonna be here any minute, and I can’t bend you over this sink and fuck you dumb,” he growled, knowing full well the effect only his words had on you. His brash vulgarity was such a turn on to you, especially now that you’d experienced Mary’s sweeter side, his tenderness and gentility. He was like Jekyll and Hyde, and knowing what a softie he could be when feelings were involved, it was all the more exciting when Hyde came out to play... 

He pinched your chin between his thumb and knuckle, angling your head to tilt up to him a little more. “I seem to remember you wanted to see how pretty this shade looked smothered all over my cock, hm?” 

Damn him. You had said that... Back in your bedroom that night, but he’d denied you in favour of being the one to taste you instead. If you had the time right now, you’d have dropped to your knees in a heartbeat, but that door would swing open at any moment, his friends and bandmates arriving to get set up and head out on stage. You hadn’t tasted Mary since the very first time you’d slept together, and frankly, your mouth watered at the thought.  

“Shame I’ll have to wait a little longer,” you whined, pouting like a spoilt brat who didn’t get her way, but it only made Mary’s grin wider as he looked down at you.  

As if Satan himself had planned the timing, the door handle to the dressing room rattled, alerting you to the presence of his bandmates arriving and startling you both to stand upright, Mary tucking you into his side with an arm around your shoulder almost protectively.  

“Goore!” Jed strolled into the dressing room with his arms wide open, followed by Davey and Forrest lugging equipment in and glaring at the back of his head for not pulling his damn weight and carrying some of this shit himself. Jed walked straight up to Mary, ignoring your presence at first and forcing Mary into a typical ‘bro hug’ with heavy slaps to each other’s backs in greeting. But then he finally turned to you, a cheeky and mischievous look in his eye. “And this must be the Dutchess...”  

Mary froze, desperately trying to think of something to say in your defence, anything to turn the attention away from Jed’s comment that he could only imagine stung so much worse with everything you’d been through lately. But he couldn’t think of anything... He’d told them to be good. To welcome you, to be fucking decent and immediately, Jed waltzed in and had to poke at an open wound.  

Davey and Forrest stopped dead too, waiting in silence, everyone aware of the tension that lay heavy in the room just from one snide little dig at your family history...  

You looked to Mary next to you and smirked, before turning back to Jed and folding your arms over your chest. You took a step towards him, looking him up and down as if inspecting him before putting on your best snooty impression, and saying, “I think you’re supposed to kneel before a Dutchess, are you not?”  

Another moment of silence passed, Jed’s face twisting from one of slight shock, to mild amusement. “Nah, I’m sure Goore kneels at your feet often enough for everyone,” he teased, winking at you. “I’m Jed,” he introduced, holding a hand out to you which you gladly took, watching as he lifted the back of your hand to kiss the back of it briefly and bow his head in mock respect.  

“I remember,” you laughed, looking back at Mary who was looking at you with concern, but also pride... You had handled that better than he could have expected, cleverly inserting yourself into the humour rather than allowing yourself to be offended by it. You took the power away from Jed, and instead, earned his respect. You didn’t miss his exhale of relief.  

“What’s with the lipstick, Mare?” Jed asked, pointing generally at his face. The others looked over too, now registering it wasn’t fake blood on his face, but lipstick – suspiciously the same colour as you were wearing. 

“Trying something new,” Mary shrugged with a smirk. 

“That your way of telling the ladies you’re taken now, eh?” Davey laughed, waggling his eyebrows. “Goore is off the market!” 

“Better be, I don’t wanna have to get the claws out,” you warned, stepping back into Mary’s side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You dropped your voice a little lower so only Mary could hear, “at least, not for anyone but you.”  

Mary just smirked down at you, biting his lip at the thought of your nails dragging across his flesh in the heat of passion later on tonight. You were being very distracting this evening... 

Forrest and Davey reintroduced themselves to you once they’d set the equipment they carried down, the room settling into a far less tense environment. You sat yourself back down on the small couch and let the preparation for their gig unfold before you, chiming into conversation every now and then where you saw fit. Jed would throw you a few more jabs, but you managed to bat them right back at him like it was child’s play. And with each comeback, you earned just a tad bit more respect out of not only him, but Davey and Forrest too.  

The guys went to soundcheck before the venue opened, while you hung back in the dressing room citing that you wanted to see the real show first. You’d rather see Mary in all his glory and performing than playing to an empty club for the first time. When they came back in, you could see the excitement had grown within the band, the buzz starting to build for the show now that they’d set up and were ready to go.  

The beers had started to flow, just a few to keep them coherent enough to play of course, but the atmosphere was changing, building right up until the moment the stage manager came to collect them. The guys all downed the remainder of their beers, gathering whatever little bits they needed before heading out on stage. The guys wandered out of the door without Mary, leaving the two of you alone. 

Mary pulled you to your feet from the couch, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Keep yourself safe in the crowd, yeah? Can get a bit rowdy...” he warned, a hint of anxiety present in his features. Not just at the thought of you alone in a crowd of metalheads moshing without a care in the world, but at the thought that you might just hate his music. That thought had been niggling away at him for days, ever since he first invited you.  

“I’ll be fine, gonna stick by the bar so you know where to find me when you get off stage,” you assured, pulling gently on the spike of hair he’d now styled in front of his face to sharpen the point for him. “Oh, wait!” 

You rushed out of his hold and towards his backpack, digging through it until you found his make-up kit and rushed back to him. You picked out the little vial of fake blood you knew he kept in there, dropping the kit down on the couch behind you.  

“Can’t go out there and be ‘Mary Goore’ without the ‘Goore’, hm?” you winked, uncapping the bottle and resting the nozzle on his hairline, letting it drip and dribble down his face just enough that it wouldn’t interfere with the pretty lip stains you made earlier. You screwed the cap back on and threw it back into the bag behind you. 

“Part of me is starting to think the blood turns you on a little...” he taunted, that stupid little smirk on his face again. You wanted to one-up him, to have the last damn word... And so, with a quick check to make sure the two of you were in fact alone, you grabbed his wrist and directed his hand down to hem of the short denim skirt you were wearing, pushing it up your inner thigh until you could manoeuvre his fingertips to push the edge of your panties to one side and slide over the little mess that all this damn teasing had caused, coating his fingers in it... 

You pulled his hand from under your skirt and lifted it to between the two of you, giggling in a way that had him stirring beneath his jeans. 

“I think maybe it does...” you tormented, letting go of his wrist and making your way to the doorway, leaning against it as if you were about to leave. Mary stood in awe of you, his hand still hovering in front of him as he looked between you and the shine on his fingertips a few times before snapping back to reality and realising he had a damn show to put on.  

He did the only rational thing he could think to, shoving his slick fingers into his mouth to clean them off while he held eye contact with you. You felt yourself flutter at the sight, gripping onto the doorframe a little tighter. This mother fucker really knew how to rile you up... 

“I’ll need more of that later, doll,” he told you sternly, stepping towards you. You took it as your cue to run, heading down the hall towards the club laughing almost maniacally as Mary stomped after you, his anxiety over performing for you replaced with a simmering need to get it over with so he could just fucking have you.  

It had only been ten minutes since you’d left the dressing room, but you were getting a little antsy waiting... This wasn’t your usual scene, and you’d hoped that maybe your first time in a goth club you’d have Mary at your side to make the experience a little less intimidating. The majority of the crowd were men, all metalheads, and while you were more comfortable here than at any political event or frat party you’d ever been to, you were sure you stuck out like a sore thumb.  

This club was in the city, and so you weren’t worried about anybody really knowing who you were save for Mary and his bandmates. But you were still finding yourself, figuring out your style and the wonderful thing about goth clubs is that everybody here went all out for the aesthetic. You felt boring, mundane even in the outfit you’d chosen. Sure, it was all black, but you’d thought the fishnet top over a black cami was daring... But in this scene, it wasn’t.  

You felt out of place, and without Mary at your side, you were sure you didn’t blend in nearly as much as you were hoping to. So, keeping to the edge of the club by the bar felt like a safe option. While everyone’s eyes were up front on the stage, you could stand back and watch as your boyfriend – well, you hadn’t exactly talked about a label, but you figured – owned the stage. And watch, you did. 

From the second Mary got up on that stage, you couldn’t look away. You hadn’t seen him play much, just a little here and there on that battered old acoustic of his, but never like this... He had such a command to him, this enigmatic energy that captivated you. Clearly, he was in his element. He’d told you it was his dream to perform, to be successful with his music and watching him now, you could see he put every fucking ounce of his soul into it.  

His music was heavy; you expected that. The lyrics were dark, screamed and growled into the microphone like he was possessed. You could understand why he was nervous for you to hear it, to see this dark side of Mary. Music like this wouldn’t appeal to the masses, sure, but it certainly did to you. He was starting to learn there was a dark side to you too, buried and covered up with pretty pink bows and glitter but it was in there. No wonder you were attracted to Mary like a moth to a flame...  

There was something about him on stage that just sparked something... Perhaps the way he handled his guitar, his fingers moving so deftly through the manic riffs he shredded. Perhaps it was the way he growled into the microphone; a deep, gravelly noise that made your breath catch in your lungs. Perhaps it was the way the crowd responded to him, adoring him and screaming for him and yet you knew that he was yours. 

The combination of it all was driving you wild. Riling each other up before the show certainly hadn’t helped, but you found yourself forgetting you were ever anxious to step foot in a club like this alone and focussing solely on him. With each song, you fell deeper into this almost obsessive need for him. 

Your demise finally came when a few songs into the set, his eyes landed on you. And the fucker smirked. 

With his eyes trained on you, he spoke into the mic. 

“Are you morbid?” he growled. The crowd screamed back at him, but he wasn’t talking to them. Not really.  

You bit your lip, unable to look away from him or even blink as he stared at you, as if he was waiting for you and you only to respond.  

“I said, are you morbid?” he insisted, the crowd screaming back again, louder this time. All you could do was nod pathetically, squeezing your thighs together and squirming just from the way he sounded, his stare... His smirk spread into a menacingly dark grin, his make-up and the lighting acting to enhance his devilish persona. He was turning you on, and he could see it.  

“Fuck yeah, you are,” he snarled, immediately running his fingers along the strings of his guitar to make it screech and diving into the next song. You could have sworn you felt the ghost of his touch as he did, as if his fingers were running their way up your inner thigh and not the neck of his guitar – the thought had your cheeks flushing, hidden under the dim lighting of the club.  

Watching his set was like torture. You tried to focus on the songs, to get into the music and as much as you were enjoying it you just couldn’t tear your eyes from him. When you’d first met Mary at the dive bar, he’d had this arrogance, this cocky self-confidence to him that lured you in but the more you got to know Mary, the more you knew that was a front a lot of the time. He had that softer side, that insecurity that he masked. But this version of Mary? This was where his true confidence lay, and it might just be the sexiest thing you had ever seen.  

As all good things must come to an end, so did their set. The crowd cheered and roared for them, and you found yourself fidgeting while you waited for them to come off stage, pack up their gear and for Mary to come and find you. Impatience had you leaning on the bar, beer in hand and tapping your foot to the metal playing through the club now that the show was over. When you finally felt two strong hands sliding around your waist from behind you, you let out a sigh of relief, smiling to yourself as you span in their grasp. 

“And what’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone in this dive, huh?” 

It wasn’t Mary.  

A strange faced smirked down at you, a thick and heavy beard to match the blonde hair that fell in untamed waved past his shoulders. His lip was pierced, straining from where he bit it while his eyes drank you in from head to toe as if you were some kind of prize. He reeked of cheap spirits and sweat, his forehead shining under the club lights as if he’d been in the mosh pit for the duration of the set.  

Beside him was someone you’d mistake for his twin, if it weren’t for the black hair and obvious difference in size and stature. The man holding you was tall, but solid. His friend was shorter, his body unhealthily thick. But still, he matched the description of your metalhead stereotype, and he too was dragging his eyes all over your body. 

Immediately your smile dropped and you shoved both hands into the guy’s chest. He stayed put, his solid frame too strong to waver but your push forced you back against the bar far enough to get out of his hold.  

“Waiting for my boyfriend, actually,” you snapped, laced with disgust. The blonde guy just laughed incredulously, as if he didn’t believe you.  

“I don’t see no boyfriend,” he said, looking from side to side as if that proved his point. He stepped further towards you, trapping you against the bar and holding onto your waist again. “Can pretend I am for the night if you want?” 

He leaned into you as if he were going to kiss your neck, but you leaned further back and out of the way, trying to push him away from you. All you could do was stop him just short, rather than rid your body of his hold completely. 

“Yeah, no thanks. Get off me!” you yelled.  

“Don’t play hard to get, darlin’. He’s just bein’ friendly!” his buddy chimed in, laughing as he took a swig of a drink he clutched with his sweaty little sausage fingers.  

“Said I’m waiting for my fucking boyfriend, piss off!” You gave him one final shove, and while he took a step back, he didn’t let go of you.  

“I got a better offer, baby. You could have us both if you wanted...” he smirked, glancing back at his friend who laughed with him.  

“Don’t think she wants either of you, Corbin.” Relief set in when you heard his voice materialising next to you, a hand with rings you recognised planting itself on this guy’s chest and pushing him back with enough force that he finally let go of you.  

Mary stepped between you both, squaring up to the blonde without a second thought.  

“The fuck would you know about it, Goore?” The blonde – who you now understood to be named Corbin – sneered, clearly irritated by the arrival of Mary instantly. 

“Well, ya see, that’s my girlfriend you had your grubby little paws all over. And I don’t really like it when people touch my things,” he shrugged, but his tone was far from indifferent.  

Corbin and his greasy little friend roared with laughter, as if the idea of Mary and you was the funniest joke they’d ever heard. That pissed you off... 

“As if a hot piece of ass like that’s gonna fuck you,” he roared, shoving Mary’s shoulder. You could see Mary take a deep, slow breath to collect himself. This guy was testing his damn patience. And you’d never seen Mary handle a situation like this before. But what you did know, was he was fiercely protective of the people he lo- well, people he cared for... You weren’t sure what was about to happen, but you just wanted these pricks to fuck off. 

“Watch your mouth, man,” he warned, his fists curling up at his sides until his knuckles turned white. Corbin and his buddy were still laughing.  

“Hey, hey darlin’... blink twice if you wanna ditch this fag and come hang out with some real fuckin’ men,” Corbin snorted, shoving Mary’s shoulder again. “A girl like you deserves a real dickin’ down!” 

You didn’t hesitate, hocking back a decent glob of spit and launching it in his direction. The laughter ceased immediately as it smacked him on his cheek with a wet splat, dripping into his beard as he jolted in surprise. He wiped it with his hand, flicking it to the floor and while his gaze darkened on you.  

“You little fuckin’ cunt,” he sneered, stepping towards you threateningly as if he were going to grab you but Mary got in the way without hesitation, shoving him and landing a solid punch to Corbin’s cheek with a sickening crack that had everyone within radius turning to look at the commotion.  

Within seconds Corbin retaliated, grabbing Mary’s shirt with two fists and headbutting him, shoving him back against you and in turn, the bar. Bottles knocked to the floor, smashing as Mary took a punch to the nose before getting his footing and throwing one back.  

It all happened too quickly, a brawl breaking out so fast as you got shoved to the side and landed on shards of glass cutting into your palm. You ignored the pain and the wet feeling on your hands in favour of trying to grab the collar of Corbin to drag him off, but his black-haired friend grabbed you instead, pulling your arms behind your back and holding you against him as you watched Mary trying to overpower this solid piece of shit.  

“Mary!” you shrieked at him, turning to the asshole holding you back. “Get the fuck off me, you fucking inbred bastard!” 

From the crowd, Forrest appeared next to you and dove into the fray, grabbing Corbin’s collar like you had failed to and dragging him backwards to the floor, straddling him and landing a punch or two himself to his gut. Mary leaned over the bar, catching his breath while two men in black polos and cargos charged in, one pulling Forrest from Corbin, the other pulling him up and restraining him with his arms behind his back.  

Forrest immediately backed down, holding his hands up in the air while the bouncer who’d intervened let him go, focussing his attention on the asshole still trying to claw his way to Mary. In a last ditch attempt, you kicked your heel between your captor’s legs and tucked it behind his ankle, pulling it until he fell to the floor and freed you. You ran to Mary without hesitation, pulling him to stand upright and holding his head in your bleeding hands to inspect the damage. You couldn’t tell if all this blood was yours or his. 

“You gotta keep that bitch on a fucking leash, Goore!” Corbin screamed, still struggling against the bouncer to get a few more swings in. Mary lurched towards him, but you grabbed his shirt, pulling him back to you.  

“You’re done, man!” the bouncer yelled at him, starting to drag him through the crowd of onlookers than had gathered. Corbin’s face projected a vile expression of pure hatred, smeared in blood that matted his hair and beard. 

“I’m nowhere fucking near done, you watch,” he threatened, “you’re an easy guy to track down, Goore! I’ll fuckin’ find you!” 

Mary glared at him as the bouncers dragged Corbin and his friend out of the club, kicking them to the curb. You diverted his attention back to you, gently pulling on his jawline and cupping his face to take a good look at him and remind him that you were right here and you were okay, in the hope it might dissipate the fury in him.  

Forrest stepped up to Mary, concern creasing his brow. He’d managed to avoid injury, no fresh blood on him anywhere but his knuckles. 

“You good, man? I can’t tell what’s fake and what’s real...” He waved his finger at Mary’s face. Mary smeared the back of his hand against his bust lip, scoffing at the sight of real blood on his hand. “Corbin’s a dick, you know he’s always lookin’ for trouble, man,” Forrest scolded, “You can’t rise to it!” 

“He needs to learn not to run his fuckin’ mouth,” Mary growled.  

“Hey, enough, tough guy...” you told him, lightly smacking his chest. “C’mon, let’s get you patched up.” You took his hand in yours, weaving your fingers in his despite the blood and pulling him through the crowd towards the door you’d come through earlier that lead to the green room backstage.  

The heavy music of the club quietened to a dull roar behind you as the backstage door shut, and you lead Mary down the hall to the dressing room. He was silent, stewing in his head over the things Corbin had said to him, mulling over his anger. When you got him inside, you locked the door behind you, wanting a moment of quiet to patch him up. You let go of his hand and grabbed his make-up kit that you’d chucked on the couch, heading over to the sink you’d pressed him against earlier to wash your own cut up hands and dampen some cotton pads from his bag.  

He lingered by the door, awkwardly stood in silence while you filled the sink. You hadn’t said a word to him, and frankly, Mary was terrified he’d gone too far, that you were pissed at him – or worse, disappointed. He never wanted you to see him like that, he wanted to be better, but he’d stooped to the level of a mindless thug because he couldn’t control how he reacted when it came to you. He’d have let it slide at the comments about him, but the second Corbin spoke down to you? He may as well have waved a red flag to a bull. 

“Come here,” you told him softly, holding your hand out to him. Without a word he did as he was told, standing next to you by the sink while you ran the cotton pads under the warm water. Lightly, you began to dab at a wound by his eyebrow.  

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled quietly. “Didn’t wanna fly off the handle like that.” You smiled as you dabbed at his face, replacing the bloodied pad for another fresh one.  

“Always rushing to save me,” you cooed, “my hero.” Mary chuckled at that, because of course he rushed in to save you – as if he ever wouldn’t... 

“You’re okay though, right?” he asked, tilting your chin you guide your eyes to his for a moment. He was so gentle, searching with genuine concern. You just smiled at him and nodded. “Did you at least enjoy the show?” he asked, changing the subject now he knew you were okay, and figured you weren’t mad at him. If you were, he’d know it by now.  

“I think you know that I did,” you joked, coyly. “You were incredible up there.” 

Mary smirked down at you, battling between his sense of relief that you hadn’t despised the heavy music and his smugness at the blush that was no longer hidden in the dim lights of the club. Frankly though, you had started this. You turned him on before he went on stage, and where else was he supposed to channel that energy?  

“Oh yeah? What did you like about it?” He feigned innocence, letting the smugness win. Of course he did, this was Mary after all... You thought for a moment, avoiding his watching eyes and continuing to dab at the blood that had dribbled down his face and collected around his nose and lip.  

“Well, y’know... Just the control you had of the crowd, like they were eating out of the palm of your hand for most of it.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed in thought, “You do like it when I take control, huh?” This fucking guy. The blush on your cheeks returned hotter than ever, radiating across your face.  

“Shut up, I’m cleaning you up,” you told him, desperately trying to hide the smile fighting to curl your lips.  

“What for? Thought the blood turned you on...”  

Only Mary could go from being involved in a bar fight that left him covered in blood with contusions on his face, to doing his very best to rile you up. But perhaps you were just the right amount of fucked up for him, because it was working.  

Your arms sagged to your sides and you finally made eye contact with Mary. He was staring down at you intensely, waiting in silence with that conceited little twinkle in his eye that was already starting to turn a shade of purple under the smeared remains of his make up. He leaned against the sink again, parting his knees and pulling you towards him by grabbing the belt loops on your skirt and tugging gently. You followed him too easily for your liking, only needing the gentlest of coaxing.  

“I thought... you were morbid,” he tormented, just like he had from the stage. Your chest seemed to flutter, heart stumbling over its own rhythm just as the words in your brain you thought you might use to respond did. But you were rendered speechless, hypnotised even.  

Even partially cleaned up, Mary looked rough. What you couldn’t understand, is why it seemed to excite you the way it did. Was it knowing that he’d suffered his injuries while fighting for you? Was it the thought that he’d fought a guy twice his size just to defend you? Or did the split lip and bruising just give him an even more menacing look that flooded your body with uncontrolled heat? 

You found yourself leaning into him, hesitating as your lips barely brushed his when you remembered they were injured, and a kiss would surely hurt him – especially the kind you were looking for.  

He raised his hand to pinch your bottom lip again, just as he had earlier, inspecting the colour of them once again. 

“That really is a pretty shade, doll...” His voice rumbled in his chest; you felt it, now that you were so close to him.  

“Blood red,” you whispered, slightly garbled thanks to his grip on your lip. He grinned at that, the most beautifully sadistic little grin, before he let go and pushed his battered lips against yours in a deliberate and heated kiss.  

He grunted on impact, pain shooting through his lip but it only spurred him on. Mary was no stranger to mixing pain with pleasure and for you he’d take it all. He didn’t hold back and didn’t expect you to either, your lips clashing together as you found a rhythm. Your hands – now barely bleeding, but still tender – planted themselves on his chest when he pulled you closer by your belt loops again, having you lean so far into him your hips crashed into his.  

His hands held you in place like that as he forced his tongue past your lips, lapping at yours almost grotesquely. It had been a while since you’d seen Mary’s feral side, but here he was under the dressing room’s harsh luminescent lights trying to devour you as if you were his last meal on death row. Your hands grabbed at his chest, nails scratched at him to try and grip onto him but falling short thanks to the barrier of his shirt.  

Hands grabbed at everything they could, both of you seeking the other out and feeling as if close just wasn’t close enough no matter how harshly you pressed against each other. You could feel his jeans growing solid, taught under you and just the mere thought of him hardening at this alone had you pressing your thighs together and pushing your hips into his as much as possible.  

Mary pulled his lips from yours just for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours as he groaned at the intoxicating mix of the pain that pulsed through them and the pleasure that pulsed through his growing erection. 

“Now’s your chance, doll,” he panted. You looked him in the eye, glaring intensely back and forth at one another. “Show me how pretty it looks, hm?” 

It took you a second, but then the penny dropped...  

“I seem to remember you wanted to see how pretty this shade looked smothered all over my cock, hm?” 

When that penny dropped, so did you, immediately falling to your knees between his feet and reaching for the studded belt that held his jeans up. He watched through hooded eyes, gripping the sink behind him to lean his body weight on it while you undid his jeans and pulled them down just enough to expose the trimmed hair that tapered from his stomach down past that delicious ‘v’ line of his hips.  

You reached past the hem of his boxers and fished your prize from its confines, laying heavy and thick in your palm. It was almost shameful, the way your mouth watered at just the sight of him, the feel of him in your hand but there wasn’t even the tiniest part of you that cared. 

You looked up at him through your lashes, gently stroking his length and taking in the view from below him. The lust in his eyes had your body setting itself alight from the inside out. He looked dangerous, waiting for you to do as he wanted. He had full control of you with just his stare and without a single word... What he wanted was very clear, and you were more than happy to oblige knowing that obedience would earn you a reward.  

Truthfully though, you wanted to do this for him just as much as he wanted it. Even when he was on stage, all you could think of was bending to his will, doing whatever the hell he wanted you to in order to derive his pleasure from him. You wanted him to take control of you, to channel that same darkness you saw in his eyes as he played and growled into the mic and use it on you.  

And so, as you stared up at him through those pretty lashes of yours, you opened your mouth and lay your tongue flat on your bottom lip, never breaking eye contact as you leaned in and lay the reddened tip of his cock on it. It was your turn to put on a show for him now, to prove yourself worthy of reward and worship him like you were kneeling at an altar rather than his feet. 

He inhaled sharply, hissing through clenched teeth when your tongue made contact with his head. You kept your eyes on him still, circling your lips around him and relishing in the purr that sounded from above you. How had you failed to do this for him since that very first night in the dive bar? How had you resisted? The way he’d reacted to your mouth last time should have been enough incentive – it certainly was now. 

Frankly, you were appalled by how long it had been since you’d taken him in your mouth like this... You’d more than make up for it now, slowly leaning further into him to take as much of his length into your mouth and throat as possible while still holding your gaze on him.  

The eye contact was driving Mary insane, seeing right through you and knowing you wanted him to watch, to see how good you were being for him. You were freakier than anyone would give you credit for, and only he knew that. Only he got to see it.  

“That’s my girl, huh? Fuck...” he praised, one of his hands letting go of its death grip on the sink and running through your hair as you bobbed slowly. You whimpered a little at the approval, particularly when his fingertips grazed over your scalp, nails scratching and massaging. The pleasure was nothing like what you wanted, what your body craved but you’d take any bit of praise, any kind of encouragement he was willing to give.  

When he wrapped his fingers in your hair, tugging at it gently to encourage your movements you couldn’t stop yourself from gripping his thighs, grounding yourself while he groaned above you. You relaxed your throat, swallowing more of him until your nose nuzzled against his skin and his grip on your hair tightened, holding you there.  

Mary was losing his mind, his head rolling back and eyes squeezing shut when he felt your throat constricting around him. He pulled on your hair to lift your head off him, giving you an opportunity to breathe but all you did was hollow your cheeks and breathe through your nose, using your fist to pump the half of his cock that was now exposed.  

You suckled at the tip for a moment before pulling off him completely, holding eye contact again and stroking him where you knelt. You made sure he was watching you when you began to press deliberate kisses to his shaft, leaving slightly dull lipstick stains against his pale skin. Mary grinned wildly, stroking your hair and allowing you to mark his cock in red stains like you’d promised him.  

“Dirty girl,” he keened, “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” You didn’t answer with words, only nodding as you started leaving open mouthed kisses, tongue laving wetly at the ridges of his cock where veins protruded. “Such a pretty colour...” he chuckled, starting to lose control of his hips as they rolled towards you, chasing the feeling. He so badly wanted to be buried in your mouth again, surrounded by that delicious wet warmth... 

You didn’t tease him for much longer, taking the tip past your lips again and sinking down on his length. The moan he released had arousal pooling between your legs, and your own need was becoming hard to ignore. But you would, knowing that Mary would pay you back for your patience – if not now, when he got you home... 

“So tempting to use this pretty mouth of yours, doll... See how much you can take.” That was an invitation, an open hint to ask for your consent to do just that. The thought of pulling back to give verbal consent was just not sitting right with you – a second of neglect to his now weeping cock was a second too long, and you weren’t about to neglect him at all. Instead, you gripped the hem of his jeans and pulled his hips towards you, indicating you wanted him to use his hips, to move and use you just as he’d said.  

“Oh, you want that, huh?” You nodded, pulling again. “Shit...”  he hissed, pushing himself up from leaning on the sink to stand in front of you, all the while you never let him slip from your mouth.  

With his feet firmly planted to the floor either side of you, he wrapped his hand in your hair again and began to rock his hips; slowly at first, savouring the feeling and watching intently as you sat so prettily for him, obediently taking everything he gave you. But he couldn’t help himself – the sight at his feet completely maddening – and he found himself thrusting a little faster, testing how much you could take. When you didn’t struggle at all, he amped his thrusts up again, grunting and moaning above you. It took all your willpower not to let go of his jeans and dive between your own legs for some friction, some kind of relief from the arousal overtaking your body. 

As if he read your mind, Mary used his free hand to rip yours from his jeans. “Touch yourself,” he ordered, “Until I can feel your fucking moans on my cock.” 

You had no willpower to deny him, immediately diving your hand beneath your skirt and pushing your panties to one side to circle your clit with the juices that had gathered there. You whined in satisfaction, the sound vibrating along Mary’s shaft and spurring him on to bury himself to the hilt in your throat.  

“Don’t hold back, make yourself cum.” And you didn’t, wasting no time building up to pleasure and doing everything you could do get yourself to the edge. It never took long with your own fingers, not when you knew the goal was just to cum as quickly as possible. There was nothing to savour, you were rushing not for yourself but to give Mary exactly what he wanted.  

“You fuckin’ wait, doll... I’ve been too sweet on you, hm?” he warned. Truthfully, the sex recently had taken more of a sensual turn now that feelings were involved but there was still a filthy side to Mary, and he knew you had it too. There was no harm in mixing it up a little here and there... “Wait ‘til I get you home. I’ll have you fucking screaming for me...”  

You believed him. You knew what he was capable of, and you had no problem letting him do whatever he deemed necessary to elicit those screams that you couldn’t create here. But his promise had your hips bucking against your hand, chasing the high that fast approached. Your moans echoed around his head, vibrating down his cock over and over as he used your throat.  

“Come on, doll, cum for me. I’m not letting go ‘til you do,” he groaned, tightening his grip in your hair until your roots burned but all it did was spur you on... You hollowed your cheeks for him, using your tongue to please him as he fucked your throat. Your fingers sped up, furiously circling your clit and pushing you closer and closer to the brink until you snapped... 

Your hips jolted and thrashed where you knelt, the floor harshly bruising your knees. Moans ended up as choked garbles as you came harder than you’d expected for such little build up. The only thing keeping you remotely in place was Mary’s grip on your hair, holding your head for him to continue fucking your throat with reckless abandon now, too turned on to hold off as soon as you fell over the edge of euphoria.  

“That’s it, doll... Fucking hell...” he growled, biting into his already injured lip and trying desperately to hold onto his own control. He waited, watching you as he used your mouth, getting closer and closer until you stopped squirming beneath him.  

“Where?” he panted, desperate now, “where can I finish?” He sounded frantic, panicked. Truthfully he was, because if he didn’t get some kind of answer soon, he’d be unable to hold off, and the thought of ruining his orgasm was too devastating after all the work you’d put in for him... You just pointed at your full mouth and sucked at him harder, earning you a roar of “Fucking SHIT” as he threw is head back one final time and lost all control. 

You took every drop of his spend you could like a champ, holding what you could on your tongue as his hips slowed to a shallow splutter and he whimpered and grunted above you like an animal. He looked ethereal, despite the injuries to his face as he found his pleasure in you. 

You waited patiently as he caught his breath, the last dribbles of his spend finding their way onto your tongue as you lapped at his now over-sensitive head. He leaned back against the sink again to steady himself, looking down at you sat prettily waiting for him like a puppy dog waiting on a treat. Your lipstick had smeared across your face, messed up by your kisses and his borderline brutal motions. And yet, you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. 

Even prettier when you opened your mouth for him, and showed him what you’d collected on your tongue.  

“You waitin’ for permission, or something?” he laughed, pinching your chin to tilt your head side to side and inspect you. You just waited in silence, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Lipstick’s ruined, baby. Gonna need a fresh coat...” he bent down until he was eye level with you, “Or maybe a gloss?” 

With a wink, he dipped his finger into your mouth, coating his finger in his cum and spreading it over your lips gently as if it were lip gloss. It sparkled under the lights of the room, matching that playful twinkle in your eye. 

“So pretty...” he complimented, watching as you now closed your mouth and swallowed what was left. Mary watched in awe, almost pissed off that his cock had softened and for now, he was spent. Just that act alone had him wanting to worship you like the goddess you were. But he’d have to wait until he got you home...  

But Mary being the nasty little shit he was, wanted nothing more than to do whatever he could to keep the fire going, to fan the embers and turn you on as much as you did him. And so, he took your hand in his, helping you up off the floor. Then with one hand, he wrapped his fingers around your neck and held you still, moving in to kiss his gloss from your lips. 

You knew from the first night you spent with him he had no problem with the taste of his own release, but as long as he kept finding new and ridiculously sexy ways to show you that, you’d always find it one of the hottest damn kinks of his... You melted into his kiss immediately, adoring the taste of him on your tongue mixed with the fresh blood of his split lip he’d bitten into. Was it a nice flavour? No. But it was the very essence of Mary, and it had you drifting into a world of your own as you made out with him. 

Suddenly, the doorhandle rattled, followed in quick succession by a heavy thump on the door and an “ow!” being yelped through the wood. It sounded like Jed, trying to get in without knowing you’d locked the door when you came in to clean Mary up. He’d tried shoving the door open with his shoulder, only to collide with it instead.  

“Hey, what the fuck?” he yelled through the door. Quickly Mary parted from you, tucking himself back into his jeans and doing them up. He stepped to the side and made his way slowly to the door, giving you enough time to take another cotton pad from his kit and run it under some fresh warm water, wiping away the red smears from your face to look somewhat presentable. Your hair was still wild from Mary’s grip, but you didn’t quite have time to get it back to normal before Mary let Jed into the dressing room, followed by Forrest and Davey on his heels. 

They looked around the room, flitting between the two of you who in your effort to look nonchalant looked more guilty than if they’d caught you mid-blowjob.  

“You fuckin’ animals...” Jed laughed, slapping Mary’s chest as he walked further into the room to gather up their kit. “Glad we got here in time, don’t need your ass print on our shit Mare.” 

They thought they’d caught you before anything happened... Good, you’d let them believe that. 

“You good, man?” Forrest asked, “I know he landed a few punches. You look rough.” 

“Thanks,” Mary scoffed. “Did he look worse at least?” 

“Oh yeah, think you broke his nose. Blood everywhere, looked crooked. Nice,” Davey laughed, “Bouncers shoved him out on the street while I was having a smoke, he was pissed.” 

“Bastard deserved it, has done for a while,” Mary shrugged.  

“We’re gonna load the van and head out, you two alright to get yourselves home?” Forrest asked, picking up some of the kit they’d brought in the dressing room after their set. 

“Yeah we’re good, not over the limit,” Mary turned to you then, “you ready to get outta here, doll?” You just nodded, turning to pack up Mary’s kit and drain the sink of the pink-tinted water.  

It didn’t take long to shift the gear into Forrest’s van with you and Mary helping out. Surprisingly, all the guys gave you a hug as they were leaving, citing it was nice to meet you and hopping into the van – not before Jed got in a jab about ‘going easy on Mary’ despite his new ‘bad boy look’ when you got him home. You just promised him you wouldn’t with a wink, to which he laughed.  

As they drove out of the parking lot, Mary turned back to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him.  

“Shall we?” he asked with a suggestive tone, swaying you in his arms and smirking down at you.  

“We shall...” you sang, leaning up onto your toes to plant your lips to his in a slow and delicious kiss. He hummed against your lips, his hands grabbing at your waist as you introduced your tongue to the mix – but he soon cut you off. 

“Get in that van, right now,” he ordered, earning a giggle from you. You span in his arms and felt a playful smack to your ass as you began to walk towards the passenger side of his van, Mary making his way into the driver’s side. 

The tension in the front seat was thick and heavy, anticipation for the moment he finally got you home building with each passing second. At some point, Mary reached over and placed his hand on your thigh, stroking his thumb over the bare skin and letting it slide inwards. You twisted in your seat, allowing him the room to slide a little higher, just to tease...  

Once out of the city and back on home turf, you threw caution to the wind and leaned over the centre console to kiss at Mary’s neck, nibble at his ear, anything and everything you could do while he drove – very carefully – through the streets he knew like the back of his hand.  

“You want me to total this thing, doll?” he growled. You just giggled, sucking a hickey into his neck.  

Eventually, he pulled into his apartment complex, parking up in his designated spot. As soon as he took his seatbelt off he was shoving you back over to your side and climbing over the console himself, his hands everywhere all at once as his lips engulfed you. You fucking loved riling him up like this...  

“Do you know how tempting it is just to fuck you right here?” he growled as his lips made the descent down your neck.  

“I’d let you,” you laughed, “but I gotta stop by the 7/11...”  

“Huh?” he pulled back from you, confused. “You didn’t fancy mentioning that before I dived over here?” he teased. You giggled again – and of course, had no idea what that did to him, inevitably making the unfolding situation in his jeans worse. 

“What? I’m out of birth control...” you whined. “And as much as I love the idea of you railing me until the sun rises, I really don’t fancy motherhood any time soon. Pharmacy isn’t open this late, so condoms it is. Just for tonight.” You leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the end of his nose.  

“Fine by me, condoms make me last longer anyway,” he smirked. “I’ll come with.” He started to retreat back to open his door, but you stopped him.  

“No no, it’s fine. It’s just around the corner. I’ll be like five minutes. You take your stuff upstairs, get a little rest – you're gonna need it...” Mary sighed in defeat.  

“Alright fine, you got your phone on you, yeah?” he checked, a little concern on his face.  

“Yeah yeah, I’m good. I’ll see you up there,” you leaned in to press another kiss to his lips, jumping out of the van and heading down the street in the direction of the local convenience store.  

Mary watched you walk away – absolutely nothing to do with the way your ass looked in that skirt, of course – and gave in, knowing there was no arguing with you on this. So instead, he got out and fished his guitar case from the back, along with his backpack of make-up and guitar picks and headed upstairs. He hummed to himself as he climbed the two flights of stairs up to his floor, content and happy despite the bar fight that had broken out.  

Truthfully, Mary couldn’t believe his damn luck. He’d landed a girl like you, worked at the differences and insecurities and whilst it was still a work in progress, you were his. He’d won the biggest battle, let his walls down just enough to let you in so you could take care of the rest together, brick by brick.  

Mary rounded the corner to his apartment, shoving his hand into his pocket for the keys to unlock the front door when he stopped, frozen and staring straight ahead... Something wasn’t right. 

The door to his apartment was slightly ajar, the wooden frame splintered by the lock as if it had been forced open with a crowbar. He couldn’t hear anything, only silence spilling from the crack in the door, but Mary knew better than to go charging in...  

“I’m nowhere fucking near done, you watch!” Corbin’s threat echoed around his head. “You’re an easy guy to track down, Goore! I’ll fuckin’ find you!” 

Corbin had made good on his promise. And for all Mary knew, he was still inside, waiting for him. Waiting for you.  

Quietly, Mary set his things down in the hallway, rifling through his bag for his cell phone, typing a quick message and hitting send before he fished into the hidden pocket inside and pull out a Swiss army knife. Handy little thing to own, when you own a guitar workshop and play in a band. Never know when you might need it to screw something together, or cut or saw something. He’d never needed to use it for self-defence before, and frankly, he felt sick at the thought of it. But he wasn’t going into that apartment without something. 

Slowly, and quietly, Mary stepped towards his front door. His heart pounded in his chest, sweat beginning to form on his brow as fight or flight began to kick in.  

He took a deep breath, flicked the knife attachment out of its hiding place, and slowly pushed open his front door...  

You sifted through the aisles of the 7/11, humming to yourself one of Mary’s songs that you particularly liked from the show tonight. With condoms in hand, as well as some assorted snacks, some beers and a few toiletries, you headed over to the register ready for the sluggish teen employee to ring you up.  

They took their sweet time, and you tried your best not to look impatient. It was late, after all, and this poor kid had the graveyard shift. You wouldn’t wanna be here either, in their shoes. Not that you’d worked a solid day’s work in your life, mind you... 

As the poor kid moved at the pace of a turtle scanning each of your items, your phone buzzed in your purse. Figuring Mary was asking you to pick something up for him, you checked it, only to have your heart jump into your mouth, and your stomach fall out of your ass... 

Don’t come home. Not safe. Call Forrest +1 (618) 107-1423 

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3 | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

[tinytalkingtina]

Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday

@devondespresso Tagged me in this forever ago and I finally had one wiggle its way into my brain!

This week been fiddling with the idea of a true role reversal Steddie, with Eddie as the popular jock and Steve as the metalhead (as opposed to a punk). This got a little away from me, haha. No idea for a story or how other characters might fit in, but if anyone wants to take the concept and run with it feel free!

Eddie

Eddie is still poor, and still lives with his uncle (let's pretend he had to repeat a grade due to the chaos of moving in with Wayne). But he's Hawkin's star track runner/lightweight wrestler, channeling his energy into sports and competition. His grades are probably still not great, but since he's winning awards at meets, teachers let a lot more slide, and he skates by most of his classes with low C's. If he's loud and excited, then well, that's just what jocks do, right?

Wayne works nights, so Eddie is usually left to his own devices. Sure, the trailer can't hold that many people (and maybe Eddie has a bit of a chip on his shoulder that he lives in the trailer park), but this is the Midwest, and Eddie is creative. He hosts big bonfire ragers out in the woods, deep enough that the cops can't easily break them up.

Eddie's "Munson Doctrine" is from the perspective of being a jock. Mixed with his insecurities, it becomes about staying on top, no matter what. That means dating around, taking girls out most Fridays. He likes girls and has plenty of fun. And if he occasionally slips in a fantasy or two about drug dealer Steve Harrington pinning him against a wall with that knife of his, no one needs to know.

Steve

Then we have Steve. Steve's had piano lessons since he was 5. A framed picture of him in his bow tie and tiny suit at his first recital sits on his mom's desk. He's good at sports and does Little League as a kid, but they don't hold his interest, not the way music does. When he hits middle school, him and his dad have a huge fight over him refusing to try out for any sports. The cracks were already there, because his parents are louder than they think when they argue. To drown them out, he turns on the radio, spinning the dials. By chance, he finds a Black Sabbath song. Something in it speaks to him, gives an outlet to the frustration and anger he's feeling.

Steve picks up drums to play in band at school, but he also borrows books from the library and teaches himself guitar after begging his mom for one for his 13th birthday. He makes a few friends, they start a band. As he enters high school his parents fight more. His grades, never great to begin with, slip further, so no more allowance for Steve. The first time he tries to steals a tape, he's caught almost immediately. But he gets better at it over time. Can't steal tattoos though, and Steve's not a great artist. So maybe he starts dealing. His parents work late most nights, so they don't need to know about his...extracurricular hobbies.

Even if he's not at the top of the high school food chain, Steve's still good at reading people and social situations. I don't think he would have the desire to DM AD&D, but I think Steve makes a good player, always solid at strategizing. In the hallways, he sees and overhears things, enough that he's able to keep the heat off him and his friends with some clever insinuation, and the threat to cut off anyone who tries something.

He sees the way that loudmouth jock Eddie Munson's eyes flick down to his lips when he buys weed off him at parties too, the guy isn't nearly as subtle as he thinks he is. Steve would love to take him down a couple pegs, if Eddie'd let him.

Thanks to @little-annie for some ideas on fleshing metalhead!Steve out more :D

Edit: check out the role reversal steddie tag for snippets of what Annie and I are writing now :)

No pressure tags to some folks (and if anyone wants to be tagged in the future let me know!): @augustjustice @hbyrde36 @puppy-steve @soaringornithopter

@hairstevington @eyesofshinigami

[boba-beom]

༉‧₊˚. can't take my eyes off of you | CHOI YEONJUN

pairing: bf!yeonjun x gn!reader

genre: drabble; fluff

summary: you tend to struggle falling asleep, but when yeonjun sings you a portion of a song with his soothing voice, you manage to sleep easier knowing just how much he loves you.

wc: 662

warnings: established relationship, yeonjun adores reader, lyrics incorporated in between, petnames; (hunny, baby, love), just so sweet :c, I'm also so soft for yeonjun T^T

a/n: I watched yeonjun's live this morning when I was half awake and I can't stop thinking about it 🥹 it was the sweetest thing ever

The comforter ruffles from your endless tossing and turning in bed. You turn your head to check the time on the clock situated on your desk and as it read quarter past one in the morning. A sigh leaves your lips as you roll onto your back, staring up at the plain ceiling just trying to ease your mind to get to sleep. But it never works.

The door to your bedroom opens slowly as you look over to see your boyfriend come home from work, sling bag sliding down his shoulder and hanging it up on the hook on the wall.

These times, Yeonjun knows you've been struggling to sleep. Most of the time you're asleep before he comes home, but in the rare cases you're still awake when he gets back, his heart drops a little.

"Hey," Yeonjun coos, moving to sit towards you on the edge of the bed. "Can't sleep, hunny?"

He strokes your hair, caressing his thumb over your temple and lightly massaging it, easing your mind better than you tried to do yourself.

"I tried, I can't, for some reason." You move aside to make some space for Yeonjun.

He lays on his side, an arm propped up to hold him up and his free hand starts playing with your fingers, fiddling and intertwining them.

"Ease your mind, deep and gentle breaths, baby." He says lowly.

You're just too good to be true,

Can't take my eyes off of you.

You turn your body so you're facing him, laying your hand between the both of you, turning it upwards as his fingers skims back and forth the length of your wrist. His touches were always delicate when it came to you.

He sings the lyrics with a sweet tone, looking at you with so much love and adoration. You were always so grateful for the peace and comfort he brings you, doing the most even when he works hard until the hours of dawn.

You'd be like Heaven to touch,

I wanna hold you so much.

The lyrics resonated with him so well, but also resonated with you too. It holds so much meaning, especially with Yeonjun in front of you, observing the way you look at his lips moving as he lightly sings to you.

You catch the way the corners of his lips are slightly upturned, and it feels like a flower blooming in your chest. Watching him love you with no limit makes you wonder what you did in your past life to deserve so much affection, to deserve Yeonjun in your life.

At long last, love has arrived,

And I thank God I'm alive.

The sound of Yeonjun's voice becomes a little hoarse, almost whispering the song as he watches your eyelids flutter shut, analysing the features on your sleeping face. The face of his love.

His heart swells in his chest knowing that he's been blessed with an angel on earth. The traces he leaves on your skin slows down as he moves the stray hairs away from your face, cupping your cheek after while he continues to analyse your face.

You're just too good to be true,

Can't take my eyes off of you.

He ends the song with a soothing tone, letting the slight vibrato in his voice accentuate the meaning within the lyrics. Your soft breathing has him smiling to himself, just from the thought of being able to help you get to sleep.

He knows you work hard throughout the day, and even being able to see you sleep well with his help is like an accomplishment from him.

"Love," Yeonjun whispers, leaning down to kiss your temples again, pulling the comforter so you're tucked in comfortably, "I'm always here for you, m'kay?"

He reaches over the bedside light shade and switches it off, leaving his lips pressed against the side of your head, and his arms cradling you in his hold.

"I love you so much."

taglist: @choiwrld @yjusei @feyregels @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @https-yeonjun @lovejoshua @seolis-world @bb-eilish @iggynor4 @amethysts-1620 @gorechoi-backup @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman (send an ask to be added to the taglist, here's the sheet for reference).

[rlqfpdl]

All I want is you

Apollo!Fem!reader x Jason Grace

Summary: You can’t help but admire Jason. Not knowing he’s doing the same.

Contains: fluff. Characters might seem a bit ooc.

A/N: I noticed the lack of Jason fics so hope you all enjoy this one. I had such fun writing it. Feedback is always welcomed and reqs are open <3

Word count: 1.1k

His skin seemed to glow perfectly, his eyes sparkled with the sun. His perfect silky blonde hair was a bit messy, like he had just woken up. Gods, it was flawless, like gold. His slightly tilted glasses made him look cuter than when he didn't have them on. If you didn't know any better, you would say you're enamored, captivated, charmed, enchan…

“Stop staring, you're drooling,” Will said, pointing towards the corner of his lip and casually continuing to eat his breakfast. You brought your finger towards your lip to confirm. How embarrassing, you thought. “I wasn't staring. I don't know what I could ever be staring at,'' you defended, avoiding Will's gaze. Suddenly, your plate was really interesting as you fiddled around with some pancakes. Smooth, gaslight your brother into thinking he's the crazy one. 

“Sure lover girl, let's pretend you weren't ogling at Mr. Sparky over there,” Will just knew how to push your buttons. Both of you being top healers meant you knew each other better than the rest of your siblings. Sadly, that also meant he knew your weaknesses all too well like a certain blonde he kept talking about.

 “He's way out of my league” you rebutted. You didn't give yourself enough credit. Most would assume you were a daughter of Aphrodite if it weren't for the distinct freckles and soft glow that every Apollo kid seems to have. 

“Yeah well, he likes you back. you guys just need to be a little less shy” he stated as if it were a fact. But it wasn't, well, at least not for you. Jason was just too handsome. Sure, the Aphrodite boys were too, and so were some of the Hermes boys, but Jason was just different in your eyes. It wasn't only about looks; it was his caring personality and how nice he could be. Not that it was a surprise, but considering he is the son of Jupiter you would have thought he would be a little more conceited. 

”You know, you keep saying that, but I don't see it. Plus I can't think of crushes right now; we have to prepare the infirmary.” both you and Will know that deep down, you wanted to believe that Jason liked you back but were always ‘too busy’ to talk about your feelings. 

Especially on capture the flag days, You weren't one to participate; fighting isn't your thing. You were half decent with a bow but just awful at playing, landing you with the amazing job of nursing everyone back to health. You would think people knew better than to slash each other to almost death, knowing that their desert privilege was on the line. But that never seemed to stop anyone from creating more work for the Apollo cabin. 

You sighed as you prepared some of the beds in the infirmary, having gauzes and ambrosia ready at your disposal. Singing softly as you worked, maybe you weren't blessed with amazing archery skills or astonishing arts abilities, but you had other skills in your favor. Like your voice and talent with the lyre. Most of the camp would agree that you were the best singer from the Apollo cabin, often leading the sing-alongs at the campfires or just singing sweet children's songs to the little ones at camp. 

Caught up in your singing and folding of sheets, you didn't hear the conch being blown or the screaming campers celebrating their victory or announcing their complaints over losing. So, to say you almost had a heart attack when you heard a soft voice call your name was truly an understatement. 

“Gods Austin you scared me,” you said, looking at your brother as he smiled softly, “Sorry you just have a patient ready for you, doc,” he said, smirking slightly as he was up to something. “I'll attend some; tell Will to take care of the rest” You turned around, not looking at your now creepily smiling brother. You started putting a little tray on one of the beds . Austin continued talking, “Oh but there is this camper who has specially requested for you,” he said as he dragged said camper towards you. “Okay well bring them up; i don't have time to attend everybody,” your voice started to faint as you looked up towards this oh so special camper that requested you. 

“I can come back at another time if you're too busy,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head with rosy cheeks, he was embarrassed. But now you sported matching red cheeks as you looked at him intensely in awe of his presence. “No, you fine Jason please sit” you gestured towards the bed. “I got nicked with a sword; it's not that bad” he explained, tilting his head, his voice was ringing in your ears like a charm.

“Can i touch your face” you mumbled as you began to study the small gash he had from afar. “Sure,” Jason stuttered a bit, his face getting a little bit redder. You softly touched his jaw, further inspecting his injury. “Well, it's not deep enough for ambrosia or nectar, but it's still kind of deep,” you stated grabbing a cotton ball with a pair of tweezers “I’m just going to clean it up and heal it ,” you said, your voice shaking a bit. Jason could only muster a hum as you placed a tiny amount of alcohol into his wound. He winced at the sting, but it didn't seem to bother him that much, especially with how gently you touched his face. 

Both of you fell into an uncomfortable silence, not knowing what to say, faces a bit too close to each other, entering in panic mode. Yet Jason built up enough courage as he whispered a faint “Your voice is so beautiful.” You couldn't help but look into his blue eyes, eternally getting lost in those precious sky-blue irises. Your faces got closer slowly, instinctively, as if it was the only way to respond. Trying to wrap your head around the boy's words truly left you speechless. But life decided to ruin this perfect moment as you heard someone speak. 

“I need some help with some Ares kids,” Will said standing there, clearly seeing he had interrupted something. “Right,” you responded brushing off nonexistent dust from your camp shirt and looking back at Jason. “Your wound should feel better now, let me know if it doesn't,” you said, all giddy at the thought of him coming back. He just nodded shyly, trying to say anything as you walked closer to Will but ultimately stayed silent. 

“Your voice is so beautiful, marry me Y/N” mocked Will as both of you walked towards the other side of the infirmary, punching his stomach, “Shut up” you whispered. Gods, Jason Grace might just be the death of you. 

[redr0sewrites]

Hi, I love your works! Can you write a hazbin hotel Lucifer x gn punk reader? Like, they dress punk, listen to punk music and are pretty rebellious anarchists? Tysm

YESSSS OFC!!!! also random rose lore but i am such a big green day fan and my mom once went to a green day concert and she talks ab it all the time-

🥀Cw: fluff, Lucifer being a sweetie

🥀HCs:

Lucifer was probably a little confused about your style and ideals when he first met you

he would ask you soooooo many questions about your outfits

hes a little awkward, but he means well 😭

he definitely asked you for music recommendations because you seemed really interested and invested in your style of music

when you started talking all excitedly about your favorite bands and music taste, Lucifer found himself enraptured by your love for the things you enjoy

Lucifer admires your individuality and how you stay true to the things you enjoy, and he also loves your spunky attitude

deep down, he despises heaven and authority figures as much as anyone else and he thinks its hilarious that the two of you are dating

an anarchist and the literal king of hell

once u start recommending your music to him, hes hooked

suddenly every rock or punk song he listens to reminds him of you, and he adores it

i think he'd really enjoy green day, maybe x ray spex too, but he'll ultimately listen to anything u want him too

lucifer ADORES your style too

if you wear studded patch jackets, vests, etc he DEFINITELY designs patches and studs for you

he would give u a little duck or apple pin to put on your jacket!!!

lucifer will help you out with your hair too, he loves detangling it at the end of the day and washing all of the hair spray and spiky styling out

would def help you dye it fun colors too

i mentioned this in my goth hcs, but if you wear a lot of jewelry he loves to fiddle and fidget with it while he's bored

like he'll just be standing next to you and all of a sudden he's playing with the chain necklaces you're wearing or poking the spikes and studs on your jacket just bc he's bored

overall, he's super supportive and sweet

"are you ready, duckling?" Lucifer called, waiting for you to finish getting ready. he had decided to take you out on a date tonight- not to a fancy establishment, no, but to a more hell-born central part of the pentagram to visit some knock-off theme park you'd mentioned weeks ago called LooLoo Land. the both of you thought that the obvious copyright of Lu Lu World was hilarious, and what better place to go on a date than a shitty theme park?

"I'm coming Luci, give me a sec!" you shout, "i'm just finishing up with my accessories". Lucifer hums in response, soon bursting into giggles as you come hurdling down the stairs, tackling him in a hug. you both pulled away after a few seconds, and Lucifer stepped back to admire your outfit. "Is it just me, or have you gotten spikier?" Lucifer chuckled, poking a stud on your jacket as you roll your eyes. "C'mon you, we have to go!" you smile, dragging him out the door as he admired your determined expression. "driving or teleporting?" you ask, and Lucifer shrugs. "you're no help," you grumble, but take his hand. "let's teleport, it'll be quicker." with a smile, Lucifer opens a portal. "Whatever you wish, dear ~"

RAHHHHHH💯💯💯 this one required a bit of research cuz idk as much ab punk culture/music as ik ab goth stuff, but it was still sm fun to write!!!!!

[wintervalewritersecond]

siren song || - xavier thorpe

requested: yes! requests: open! second part of siren song! the third part is also out, check my masterlist! ^^

A/N: thank you for the love on siren song! to read part one, click here! i hope you enjoy this part &lt;3 i had to rewrite this considering i accidentally deleted it :')

wordcount: 4.736 warnings: xavier being a bad friend, curse words, slight memory loss, incorrect information about siren song probably, use of weed.

After finally convincing Bianca to use her Siren Song, you get some well-deserved peace in your head. How long does it take for Xavier to notice the changes?

"What?"

The question catches Bianca off guard, not something that happens a lot. Tears are staining your face as you sniff, trying to not start sobbing again.

"Hey, it's okay. Come in."

Her arm is placed on your shoulders as she guides you into her room, placing you on her bed before grabbing her desk chair, sitting next to you.

"What has gotten you so upset?"

You look down at your hands, biting your cheeks as you nervously fiddle with your fingers. You feel embarrassed to sit here, crying in the dorm of your friend that used to be Xaviers girlfriend, but you didn't know anyone that would know how you feel. No one except for Bianca.

"I think Xavier hates me."

"What?" Bianca exclaims shocked. "Why do you think that?"

If there is one thing that Bianca was sure of, it was that Xavier is completely infatuated with you. Even during their relationship, he still made sure to spend some time with you, and Bianca never cared. She trusted both of you, as you became her friend when the relationship was going on. When the couple broke up, your friendship watered down a bit, but you were still both friendly.

"We just had a fight," you whisper. "He never yelled at me like that. Never."

She hands you a tissue, breathing in deeply.

"He has been ignoring me for weeks. He became so obsessed with Wednesday that he did not have any time for me. She- she asked him to the Rave'n and then he found out that she just used him," you ramble. "I asked him to come with me, not even as a real date, but just so he wouldn't be alone. And then he totally ditched me there the second Wednesday came in. The worst thing is, she doesn't even like him. She told me."

How stupid can a boy be? Bianca grits her teeth, shaking her head.

"He is dumb. If there is one thing that he should do, it's to get his head straight. I can't believe that he would do this. Especially after all you have done for him!"

"What if I just become more like Wednesday? I- I can braid my hair? I will even learn to play the cello. He- He said that she was better than me... That I just bother him. Am I too obsessed or- or annoying?"

Even Bianca's heart breaks at that point. The tears are rolling down your face again as you still don't dare to look up at her.

"Am I really that bad of a friend?"

"No!" Bianca immediately responds. "No, Y/N, if anything, you are a great friend. Too good for him. You don't need to be Wednesday to be better. I think she is too emotionless for her own good."

"I wish I was that way," you sigh. "Please, Bianca. If I tell you that I really want it, can you really not use your Song?"

Bianca takes a deep breath, her leg bouncing up and down. Her eyes fall down to the amulet around her neck. It is very against the rules to use her Siren Song, it is something that could get her in a lot of trouble. But, at the same time, she knows exactly how you feel. Xavier is just someone who deserves love, yet he doesn't know how to act around it when someone is literally handing it to him on a silver plate.

Her heart tells her to help you, to give you everything you deserve, but she knows that she also needs to think about the possible consequences. Though your grades have been slipping and your mood has been down for a while now as well. So many factors.

"Y/N, I really don't know."

"What if I consent to it? Surely that must be fine. I- I will sign a contract, even. Write it myself. I- Even only thinking about doing this for me would already be enough."

You must genuinely sound so annoying now, but you know that this will help.

"Why won't you try talking to Kinbott first?"

"I just need something... Something that will work immediately. A Siren Song can always be undone, right?"

"I'm not sure about that," Bianca grimaces. "It's hard, Y/N. I promise you that I will think about it. Just... Try and get some rest, okay?"

-

You had spent the rest of the weekend laying in bed, napping or reading, and sometimes you would head to the Quad to get something to eat. Kent made sure to try and cheer you up, which did work to an extent. You appreciate having a friend like that.

Even from the distance you sit at now, you can still see the figure of Wednesday Addams, sitting alone at her table while writing something down in her notebook. Ajax waves Xavier over to get him to sit at your table but is quickly rejected as the long-haired boy decides to sit with Wednesday. She looks up with the deadliest of looks, though it doesn't seem to phase him at all. Can't he see?

Bianca looks out from the second level of the Quad, spotting both you and Xavier. Not one word is exchanged, though your body language speaks for itself. Your shoulders are slumped and even though Kent tries his hardest to make you laugh, it isn't enough.

Seeing you so upset about someone who doesn't deserve it makes her feel bad. Even in her relationship, she felt like you were more important to Xavier, and that is something she just... Accepted. She never blamed you for it, as Bianca could never really trust Xavier either. But the feelings he has for you are totally real.

After that dinner, you retired back to your room. Yoko would be hanging out with Divina anyway. Just as you let yourself fall on your bed, you hear a knock on the door.

"Coming!"

You kick your bag underneath your bed before walking up to the door, opening it to reveal a Bianca behind it.

"I will only do it after you agree to all the consequences."

She walks in as you close the door behind her, trailing after her.

"You're serious?"

"You deserve to have some peace, Y/N. God knows I wish someone could have done this for me when I was in your situation. I will tell you every consequence," Bianca looks at you sternly. "And I have some conditions."

"Yeah- Yeah totally."

Bianca sits down at your desk, handing you a pen and paper.

"You are to write down that you agree with the Siren Song. I can't just use it whenever I want. Principal Weems will have my head if she finds out."

"Anything, Bianca."

You start writing, still listening to the siren as she explains everything.

"I can genuinely not say if I am able to undo the Song. There is a high likelihood that it will not return to you and Xavier being best friends. I also do not know what to do if this news ever reaches Weems. No one knows that we are planning to do this, no one except for us."

"I promise you, I will take all the blame," you nod, a weak smile on your face. "It is the least I can do."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She looks at you, her eyebrows stuck in a frown. "It's not something small. You deserve much better than how Xavier acts now."

"I- Yeah. I thought about it all day yesterday. I just... I want to. I promise."

You hand her the paper in neatly written handwriting.

I, Y/N Y/L/N, fully consent to the use of the Siren Song by Bianca Barcley. I have willingly agreed to be under the influence of the song for as long as I wish. All punishments that are given for using the Siren Song are punishments I will take over. Bianca Barcley is not to be lectured nor punished for her actions.

Underneath it is your handwriting, together with the date of today. Bianca takes a deep breath, nodding as she reads it over and over again.

"What exactly... Is it that you want me to do? You just... Want to forget him?"

You nod.

"I was thinking that... I don't want to be scared of him, I just want to stay out of his way. If that makes any sense?"

"Xavier Thorpe will be the one you forget, from now on his name will stop sounding in your head," Bianca mutters, trying to practice whatever she will say. "Distance is something that you will keep, he will not be the reason as to why you... Weep?"

You will forget Xavier, make sure to keep your distance, and not cry over him. You do feel guilty for making Bianca use the Siren Song on you, but in your eyes, it feels like the only way out.

"I think you will just return to how it was before you met Xavier," she then nods. "I will try to make sure that you will not get too close to him again, but I can't promise anything. If you have feelings for him now, you might just... Start liking him all over again."

"I just need to forget," you say, handing the handwritten note to Bianca. "Thank you so much, Bianca."

"This might be the first time I feel guilty for using it," she laughs nervously. "But, you deserve it. Truly. Xavier just needs to get his act straight. He loves you, he's just dumb."

You don't fully believe her. You want to, but you can't. You truly thought that he liked you back, that he was also interested in you. But now you were not even sure if he liked you as a friend anymore.

"Ready? You will probably be sleepy after this."

Trembling hands and nervous sighs.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Bianca nods, pulling the necklace off of her neck. She closes her eyes, holding your hands in hers.

"Xavier Thorpe will be the one you forget, from now on his name will stop sounding in your head. Distance is something that you will keep, he will not be the reason as to why you weep."

-

You had woken up with a slight headache. Your limbs are still sore from the Rave'n dance, but that can't stop you. Not that you remember a lot of it; they must have spiked the drinks. You pick up your bag from under the bed, emptying it out before filling it with everything you need for the day. After finally finding all your books, pens, and notebooks, you exit your room.

"Hi, guys!"

With a big smile, you greet your friends, plopping down in between Kent and Bianca. You had gotten a sandwich from the dining hall, trying to get some breakfast in before your first class.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Kent snickers. "You're up before me most of the time."

You shrug, taking a bite of your sandwich.

"I was so tired," you mumble, wiping your mouth with the napkin. "I'm still sore from all the dancing!"

Ajax and Enid soon also join the table as Enid huffs.

"I feel like the paint is still in my hair," she complains. "I mean, it was a good post for my blog, but that dress was my favorite dress ever! "

You let out a chuckle, closing the sandwich container before placing the leftovers in your bag. Yes, the paint was a pain to get out of your hair and your dress has also been stained, but the rest of the evening went splendidly.

After fifteen minutes, the first bell rings, signaling that classes are to start in only five minutes. You sling your backpack onto your back before standing up from the table.

"You ready for Botany?" Bianca smirks.

"Well," you sigh. "Can I use your notes? I can't find any of mine from the last three weeks. I don't know what I did during class, but I know that there is a test coming up and this is not my best subject."

Bianca's smile falters for a second, realizing that you really don't remember a lot about Xavier anymore.

"Yeah, you can sit with me. Might be the easiest anyway."

You nod, entering the class as you greet miss Thornhill. She had already placed some strange plants in the front of the classroom as other students slowly entered the classroom.

Some students already picked a spot, including Wednesday. She is placed next to another person, hair to his shoulders and a frown on his face.

"Good morning, Wednesday!"

You sit down on the opposite side of Bianca as she and the boy sit between you and Wednesday.

He feels familiar. It is almost like he was in a dream. Like you accidentally bumped into him once or twice, only seeing him in your classroom once in a while. It's like the lingering smell of perfume when someone walks past you, or when you see a half-erased line of pencils on a page. He is mesmerizing, yet extremely intimidating. It is almost like you can't rip your eyes off of him, but you are also too scared to keep looking.

Bianca gives you a look before placing her notebook in front of you, making sure that you can read all of it as Thornhill starts talking. You try to write down all she says, making small sketches of the flowers and plants she shows while also trying to write down all the notes from the last few weeks.

"Alright, so, I will be expecting the essays about the Ghost Orchid and at least two more carnivorous plants. No maximum amount of words, but at least 450 words per plant."

Thank God for Bianca's notes. Without those, you would have actually failed this.

"I think I'm going to be doing my homework in the Nightshade library," you whisper to the girl. "I really need to get started on this."

After writing down the last few sentences, you drop your pen. Your hand is cramping from all the writing and your fingers are covered in ink. Only Biology and one hour of fencing left and after that, you were going to sit with the Choir Club, even though you're not a member. You would often hang out with them, sitting on a bench nearby while waiting for your friends to finish. You yourself were actually in the Art Club, but you tend to hang out with other clubs on days that you didn't have any.

A small break after Botany, just long enough to grab a hot drink from the dining hall before getting dressed in your fencing suit again.

"Bianca? You want to team up?"

She raises an eyebrow, smirking while grabbing a saber, switching it from hand to hand.

"I thought you would never ask."

"I can use some competition. And improvement."

Bianca won. Not once, not twice, but five times. You groan as you end up on the floor again, the tip of the saber pointing to your chest. You hold up your hand before pushing yourself up.

"We get it," you let out a laugh before pulling the mask off of your head. "I'm going to need a break."

She holds out her hand, helping you get up before taking her own mask off. The two of you walk towards one of the small wooden benches that sit against the wall of the room, grabbing a bottle of water before cracking it open, and taking big sips.

Everyone else is still training, the clanking of sabers and the sound of shoes against the mats filling up the classroom. You let out a big sigh, pushing some strands of hair out of your face.

"I don't know if I will ever fight you again," you mumble.

"You're getting better," Bianca laughs, closing the bottle back up. "I have seen worse."

You look at everyone around you, some also taking off their masks to catch their breath as Coach walks around, giving out tips and advice where needed.

The boy with the long hair is here again, yet you still don't know where you know him from. Bianca sneakily looks at you, blinking before looking at Xavier. He acted like you weren't even there as he just fenced against Ajax. She does still think the two of you fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, but Xavier first needs to figure himself out. She knows he likes you; it is clear as day. But as long as he acts like this, he doesn't deserve you. Not at all.

Has he always just been in the background? It is like a ghost, you know that you have seen him, yet you don't know where or when.

"One more round?"

-

"I think I'll be heading to the library now," you tell Bianca. "I genuinely don't know what happened these last few weeks, but I am behind on all my homework."

Half of the Choir Club time has passed as they rehearsed their songs for Outreach Day. They were to perform when the new statue in the town square was going to be revealed. But you had more than enough homework to do.

"I might join you later," she sighs. "Some quiet would be nice."

You tell your friends goodbye before slinging your bag over your shoulder, hurrying down the Quad and into the small hidden hallway leading to the Poe statue. With two snaps you get in, making sure that the entrance is closed off again before going down the stairs.

Nice and quiet.

After around forty-five minutes, you hear some more rumbling. Ah, Bianca must be here. You have gotten a lot of work done, actually. The Ghost Orchid part of your essay is already done, now moving on to the Crimson Pitch plant.

"Hey, Bianca!"

The footsteps descend the stairs, but the figure does not belong to Bianca. The tall guy with long hair walks into the library, the one that felt like he lived somewhere in your memory. Your eyes grow big as you immediately throw everything back in your bag. You didn't know that he was a Nightshade as well.

You close your bag hurriedly. Something about him is so intimidating, but he is absolutely mesmerizing at the same time. Why are you so afraid of him? When walking out you accidentally bump into him.

"Sorry," you quickly mumble, running up the stairs before he can even reply.

Bianca is cleaning up when you get out of the library, so you run up to her. Luckily she is still there.

"Can I do my homework in your room? Yoko was inviting some friends to my dorm and..." You look around, making sure no one is around them. "That guy showed up again. The new one."

Bianca clenches her teeth, grabbing the last few papers before stuffing them in her bag, taking your arm to take you up into her room. She can't have Xavier mess this all up. You haven't been this happy in weeks.

You sit down against her bed, laptop on your lap as you are typing away. But the words are getting stuck, the same sentence being rewritten multiple times before finally getting one that slightly makes sense.

"Is he new?"

Bianca turns around on her chair, looking at you.

"Who?"

"The guy with long hair. He was in the Nightshade library. I- I didn't know if he was supposed to be in there because I wasn't sure if he was in our group."

Why does he have to be there at the exact same time as you? It almost makes the Siren Song useless. You might avoid him as much as you can, but he isn't under the spell.

"He's new."

"He's kinda pretty."

Bianca scoffs.

"Pretty weird. It might be best to stay out of his way, he needs to work on himself before making new... friends."

-

Xavier groans, dropping his bag on the floor. You had been fully ignoring him, but to be fair, he totally deserved it. He had noticed you sneaking into the library and his plan was to try and talk to you, but you had fled before he could get one word in.

He had called Ajax, asking him to come down to the library as soon as he could. Xavier spent some time sitting in the room, biting on his lips while bouncing his leg up and down. He really, really fucked up.

Rumbling of stones and footsteps.

Ajax shows up, slightly out of breath. He had ran here from his dorm. Xavier said that there was a big problem and if he was needed in the Nightshade library, it would probably be huge.

"What's up, man?"

"I fucked up," Xavier runs his hands over his face. "Like, really bad."

The Gorgon frowns, looking at his friend. Xavier looks stressed out, more than usual. His hair is messy, his eyes are red and he has big eyebags underneath his eyes.

"What did you do?"

The artist breathes in shakily, pacing around the room while fiddling with his hands.

"I have been a total asshole to Y/N," he mumbles. "I left her at the Rave'n, drenched in that paint, and then she went up to visit me. I wasn't only a horrible date, but I was an even worse friend."

"Xavier?" Ajax asks yet again. "What did you do?"

Xavier breathes out roughly, blinking while pursing his lips. He is too ashamed to say it, but he needs to tell someone. He needs someone to set him straight.

"I treated her like shit. I told her Wednesday was better than she is."

His friend gasps, looking at his friend almost disgusted. How could he have said that to her? After all those nights of the artist hanging out in Ajax's dorm, him smoking some weed while listening to his friend blabber on about how much he liked you, and then he does this?

"What the fuck? Xavier, you have liked her for years, why would you say that?!"

Xavier rubs his eyes. If anyone is disappointed, it's him. He was so in his head that he took it all out on you. Wednesday isn't better than you. He has liked you for the longest time now, and this just messed it all up. Xavier his mental health has been declining, especially now that he is also suspected of being some type of monster. But that isn't your fault. None of it is. You have always, always been there for him, and he just swept you to the side.

"I'm going to be honest, dude," Ajax looks at his friend. "I am really disappointed in you."

"As you should be," Xavier whispers.

"I'll help."

Xavier looks up, kind of shocked. For some reason, he expected Ajax to just abandon Xavier in the library, leaving him to fend for himself.

"Only if you promise to never do this again. Go to Kinbott more, try and talk about your feelings. Y/N never cared, you could show up crying at her dorm at three am and she would make sure that you're fine before she even thinks of going to sleep."

"Ajax- Thank you so much."

"Yeah, yeah. Just try to talk to her. I'm serious, Xavier. You might be my best friend, but this is not cool."

-

For the last two weeks, Xavier had tried to talk to you on multiple occasions. He even sat at your table, though Kent and Bianca were hovering around you, not even letting Xavier get one word in.

During Botany he tried to draw a butterfly, making it float in the air before it quickly gets swatted away by Bianca who just gives Xavier a disgusted stare.

During Fencing he walked up to you, wanting to ask you to train with him like you usually did, but you quickly darted away once you saw him coming for you.

He went down to the Nightshade library to wait for you, yet you never came.

What he did do was 'accidentally' bump into you. He would calculate when he had to stand up to go to class. The first thing you would put in your bag was your notebook, followed by your pencil case. After that you would close the zipper; his sign to stand up. After swinging the bag on your shoulder, you would walk off.

You accidentally bump into someone's back, making the bottle of water that they had in their hand fall.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

As you go to pick it up and give it back, you see the boy again. The boy that appeared in your dreams as if they were faint memories. The boy reminded you of ink splatters and the smell of freshly painted walls.

You quickly hand him the bottle, excusing yourself before finding your way to a picnic table again. He makes you nervous, and you don't know in what way. Bianca warned you for him, so all you could do was listen.

In your room, you had a collection of handwritten notes, asking you to meet up in the Nightshade library. You never did. Once you showed them to Bianca, she immediately shook her head.

-

"I don't know what else to do," Xavier furrows his eyebrows, "She just doesn't want to talk to me. I don't blame her for not wanting to, but sometimes she even completely ignores me. As if she doesn't even know my name. I tried everything."

Ajax takes a hit of his joint, his eyes tinted red before he blows it out of the window. The moon is lighting up Nevermore, its stars shining around it.

"Everything?"

"Yeah," Xavier responds. "I tried to talk to her, give her notes, even accidentally bumped into her. But, Bianca and Kent are just acting like bodyguards to her."

"If you want, I can try to talk to her tomorrow."

"You would do that?"

"Yeah," the Gorgon shrugs. "She still talks to me sometimes. Hanging out in the Quad after classes. I'll let you know how it went."

-

"Y/N! Hey!"

Ajax runs up to you, a big smile on his face before he pulls his beanie back down.

"Ajax! It is nice to see you again."

"What are your plans for today?"

Hm, what were your plans? You did really want to go to the Weathervane to get a drink, but considering it is a Thursday, you weren't too sure. There are no shuttle buses today, and walking in the chilly weather for twenty-five minutes didn't sound too appealing.

"I have some homework I still need to do. I was thinking of going to the Nightshade library to study. Want to join?"

The boy eagerly shakes his head, following you through the hall and down the stairs. The small table gets filled with books, pens, and notebooks. Ajax didn't really take a lot of homework, but he did provide some snacks.

The two of you talked about all different types of things. How he was planning on asking out Enid, how you expected Outreach Day to go, which homework you were doing, and much more.

"Can I maybe ask you something personal?"

You hum, looking up from your paper.

"Of course."

"I was just wondering," he awkwardly laughs. "What happened at the Rave'n?"

"I have no idea," you shrug. "I think there were some Normies who set off the sprinklers. All I know is that my dress is still stained and that, whatever it was, really burned my eyes."

Ajax frowns, what are you talking about?

"Yeah, no, I was there. One beanie destroyed," he chuckles. "But I meant more like... After the Rave'n. What happened?"

It is your turn to be confused.

"Well... I showered, tried to wash the stains out of my clothes, and then hung out with Bianca."

Do you just really not remember?

"What? No, Y/N, I mean... What happened with you and Xavier?"

Even more confusion spreads on your face as you put your pen down on the paper. What is he talking about? All you did was dance, drink punch, took a break, danced more, and then went to clean yourself from the sticky red paint. And who is he talking about?

"Who is Xavier?"

------------------------

TAGLIST

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[plumfondler]

Touch-starved, needy Steve. It’s gotten a little better with robin and the kids, but he just melts when Eddie starts getting in his space and all but hanging off him

This.... Got away from me, yes.

🫂

The first time Steve notices Eddie getting in his personal space (after being pinned to the boathouse wall) he is a little taken aback. His first instinct is to back away or push Eddie away from him, because that's what you do, right? Someone is in your space, it's probably a threat, so you should neutralize the threat?

Once Steve's fight response fades, he develops an immediate fondness for Eddie. Eddie was passionate and intense and loud and charming. And a very tactile person.

Steve often noticed Eddie's hands. They would gesture wildly and clench excitedly, but also fidget nervously. Steve had his keyring hanging from his belt loop once and Eddie started playing with the keys as soon as he was within arms reach of Steve. After that, Steve bought a small leather bracelet with some beads on it and Eddie immediately grabbed his wrist and started fiddling with it.

Once Steve got used to Eddie holding his arm across his lap to play with his bracelet, he started testing the waters and draping his legs across Eddie when they were all sitting around. The joy that burst in Steve's chest was unlike anything he'd ever felt, when Eddie rested his hands on Steve's legs, fingers idly stroking.

Eddie soon started pulling Steve's legs over his lap first, which gave Steve the confidence to start trying other things, like leaning.

Though the leaning did turn into accidentally falling asleep on once or twice.

But something changed after the leaning. Eddie was suddenly attached. The second he would walk into a room with Steve in it, he was drawn to him like a magnet. Eddie would drape his arms over Steve's broad shoulders when everyone was standing around, or just drape his entire body over Steve's back like a koala if Steve was sitting on a stool or at a picnic table. And Steve would always put a hand on Eddie's arms to hold him there. To silently say "stay."

Soon Eddie was casually wrapping Steve up in hugs mid-conversation, with no warning.

Then one day Eddie kisses Steve's cheek. Steve made Eddie a mixtape of all the metal songs he liked so maybe Eddie can show him more like those? And Eddie's face lit up and he planted a fat kiss on Steve's face.

Steve can't say he isn't surprised. He can't say he doesn't love it. The warmth. The softness. Eddie's gentle hand that held Steve's chin for a brief moment.

Steve found himself giggling and speechless.

Eddie seems to love this reaction so he likes to try it again from time to time.

And then one time they try it at the same time.

Steve and Robin are bickering about something and Eddie is dangling over Steve's shoulder. Eddie silently gestures to Steve's empty beer with his own, shaking it, and Steve nods, still listening to Robin.

Eddie leans in to kiss Steve's cheek but Steve turns.

Their lips meet and they both sigh upon impact.

They don't pull away.

Robin stops talking.

Eddie and Steve open their eyes, lips still attached.

"Oh boy, okay, so this is finally happening, okay. And it happened in front of me okay, that's fine okay. I can deal with this, it's fine it's fine it's fine."

Robin starts babbling and Eddie and Steve slowly smile foreheads together, reaching out to hold each other's faces, bursting into laughter.

"Hey Robs, we're gonna go talk about this in the kitchen, okay?" Steve said, weaving his fingers with Eddie's, reaching out to squeeze Robin's hand.

Robin nodded and Steve lifted Eddie's fingers to his face, nuzzling them.

"Yes, we're going to go make out about this in the kitchen, can we bring you anything in an hour?" Eddie asked, standing and tugging Steve up to his feet.

Steve giggled and followed Eddie to the kitchen.

They rounded the corner and Steve pinned Eddie against the wall, kissing him tenderly.

"Whoa, wait, what happened to talking about this," Eddie grinned, nudging Steve's nose with his own.

"Hi,I like you. Do you like me?"

"Yes, a lot."

"Mmk."

And the kissing resumed.

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

Send me your headcanons!

[hotluncheddie]

omg it's been said before but your autistic Steve series is so good so life affirming so precious to me..... and so I would like to share my own thoughts on the matter...... Steve who did sports bc he had so much excess energy!! and now he gets the zoomies all the time and needs NEEDS to get outside and run around when the weather is nice...... Steve who thinks he's unforgivably strange and unlovable without his perfectly crafted mask and Robin who says she likes him better without it!!!!.... Steve hyperfixations (feat Steve who reads and frequents the library my beloved, he's so casually curious it just makes sense with his characterization I think)...... Steve full body stimming with Eddie or Robin and feeling amazing!!!!!...... Steve who has set up his space Exactly The Way He Likes It.....

love and light to you ♥️💋🥞🏄🏻

lovely 2jug2head!!! hello!!! ur so sweet!!!

but autistic steve!!! my love!! my guy!!! yesssss!!!! these are all so good! so sweet and lovely and perfect!!! ty for sending me this!!!

(sorry this reply took a little to get too, i've been on my freak shit but finally got few ideas down for u <3)

i think steve would take time learning what stimming and being overstimulated and understimulated means. i think after the upside-down especially, but a lot before that too, he got too used to detaching, kind of separating from his body in order to survive. so now, sometimes, he gets these itches and urges and weird feelings and he just doesn’t know what to do about it. [and i think sport definitely helped him in the past, but i dunno if he would make that connection right away.]

but, he watches robin flap her arms with her sweater sleeves covering her hands. and watches eddie get fucking breathless head banging to a song. he sees robin skip to his car at the end of a shift, looking up at the sky and letting out a 'AHH!' with so so much feeling, cheeks flushed and eyes bright that the day is done, getting in and fiddling with the radio like it’s no big deal. he watches eddie jiggle his leg and bite his rings and stand up and pace when he's talking about something he loves. and steve tries them.

he tries all of them.

he fists his hands and shakes them until something dislodges in his chest, till he can finally take a full breath. he sings loudly along to bruce springsteen and wham in his car in the mornings, sometimes not ever really singing, just making noise. he jumps around his room with robin when she plays blondie, he asks eddie to show him how to head bang, tries it and laughs and kisses him breathless when the song ends. he gives robin his keys and takes off running in a lap around the building after work, sometimes near sprinting, sometimes circling five, six times, going till he's panting and the faces of all the people he had to see that day are washed away, until he can't feel the plastic on his fingers, can't smell the bleach or the too much cologne some guy used. until he's reset, until he's him again, not theirs, not who anyone wants him to be. until he feels good again, lets himself feel good.

sometimes, now, he jiggles his leg the same way eddie does, at the same time, until robin says she has to move 'feel fuckin' seasick over here with you two goblins.' and eddie just laughs. and steve can curl up into his side, if he wants, can pick up eddies hand and bite his rings if he feels like it, eddie would let him, maybe call him cute, wouldn't judge him. neither of them would, if he did that, if he did more. they would never, and its so nice.

<3

["Steve who thinks he's unforgivably strange and unlovable without his perfectly crafted mask" ;-; that's my fcuking GUY. he would and its so :(( !!!! ]

but yeah, robin would hate that fake plastic smile he puts on to mask sometimes. and she'd tell him, with so much love. 'stop it. show me you.' because she just wants to be with steve.

but she’s so wonderful, he just, she gets it. sometimes things that he didn’t even know were bothering him will build and he’ll snap and rant and moan to finally get it all out. lungs heaving as he empties everything out before her. but she’ll just look at it, and seem to place it all in a way that makes sense, a way that’s small and fits in his pocket. she’ll say ‘woah yeah, that seems like a lot / would be stressful / i’m not surprised you're overwhelmed’ and it’s just. it’s so simple. he’s seen, he’s listened too and validated. it still makes him pause, in stunned silence, and it’s like there’s a plaster placed on his heart with every instance that it happens. sometimes it seems to strike such a chord it's like it's hitting a deep wound that he buried inside, a scab finally healing and falling away. sometimes it makes him sob in her arms, overwhelmed and amazed and so so moved by this person he's met, this wonderful angelic creature that he gets to call his.

the next time he has his super masked, customer service face on when its just the two of them, she threatens to bite him. and steve smiles for real, laughs, feels another plaster sticking over the others.

<3

and steve library frequenter yes yes!! i agree that he is curious and practical and i think a hands on kind of guy! so i think he goes to the library and gets books about cars. i think he likes learning about how to fix his, trying to understand what could go wrong, how it happens, what you do in different scenarios. i think that's something him and eddie and wayne bond over, helping to fix their cars. steve and eddie even work together to do up wayne's van a little, getting it a new bumper and a couple parts scavenged at the junkyard. it's fun for him to work out what's missing, what’s changed, how and why and then putting it into practice. taking something apart and putting it back together. makes him feel proud of himself, something he really doesn't feel often. makes his brain zone in and flow and focus for a couple hours and it just feels so nice, its a happy time for him.

also, speaking of special interests - ✨sport stats✨. steve can name the players of all the basketball teams currently playing professionally, likes watching the tactics shows that come on before and after the games. likes talking at eddie and explaining why its actually really cool that they swapped out that player to give this new guy a chance, he's big news, a young up and comer and has a really interesting play style, its gonna work well with how their current manger organises the court. and eddie just smiles at him, squeezing steves hand in his lap and trying to understand what he sees on screen, follow along (he struggles to take in all the information, it's just not his thing. but it makes him so happy when he watches steve watch.) and steves happy little keens when something interesting happens, mindlessly fiddling with eddie’s fingers and tapping his other hands fingers against his knee, 1, 2, 3, 2, 4, 2. relaxed and focused and sometimes he rocks when it gets really tense and eddies heart bursts.

because it wasn't always like that, it was a struggle and a near pleading for eddie to just get steve to tell him what he likes, talk to him, get to know him. to just let eddie in. because eddie wanted to know everything and steve just didn't know how to deal with that. why would eddie care? no one ever listens to him. he's embarrassing and annoying and gets to loud and eddie doesn't like sports so why would steve tell him anything? it took soft words and gentle encouragement and reassurance again and again that he's listening, he wants to listen, wants to know. 'always, always wanna listen to what you have to say stevie.' so when steve comes over to the trailer after work, talking about the latest switch they announced in the paper, how last nights points shifted the league around and now he doesn't even know who's going to win, isn't that cool? eddie fucking beams because this is his boy. his bright, beautiful, exited baby and he’s talking to eddie, he's letting eddie see him.

<3

steve and his space though. thinking very much about that. he doesn’t have the strictest schedule, he’s learning that sometimes its okay to leave the sheets for another couple days, that the dust can settle for another week before he needs to wipe it away. but some things are just, they just have to be right. he needs to know where things are, needs the important stuff in the same place every day so he doesn't forget. needs his products in the bathroom out and in order so he can keep track of when something needs replacing, so he's not left without something he needs. wants this one specific pillow at night, and one for between his knees and a duvet on year round, needs it to feel warm and safe and right in his bed.

and his clothes, its not even about the sensory stuff for him, like yeah most of his tops are soft, his jeans pretty worn in. he has some really old sweatshirts that are special, that come out on the worst days. but it's also about how clothes look, how they make him feel. he want his jeans to fit right, sit right on his shoes. wants his shirts to make his shoulders look nice, make him feel comfortable and confident and like a normal fucking person who can exist in the world. its another part of the mask, maybe. but it works and its his and most of the time he thinks he looks good. and that's okay. he's learning and its healthy and its practical and it helps.

but he also adores wearing eddies t-shirts. when he's at home all day or to sleep at night. especially if eddies not there, when steve misses him, when he wants him. steve wears eddies t-shirts to bed. they're all ones eddies left after staying, they're old and soft and the tags have been cut out and they smell like eddie. like his eddie. like he's there. steve loves it, wraps himself up in it, helps him feel soothed and taken care of even if he's alone, maybe its a little sad, makes him feel embarrassed, too much. but he's learning not to care.

sometimes eddie talks to him and touches him in a certain special way that makes steve feel so so foggy and taken care of and amazing. so, if eddie's not there but he craves that foggy feeling, steve wears eddies t-shirts and he speaks to himself like eddie would and he makes himself dinner and looks after himself and tucks himself into bed and rubs the fabric of the collar against his nose. and tries not to feel embarrassed if he needs more, if he has to suck on his fingers/thumb for a while, clutching the fabric in his hand. tries to let himself whimper or even cry a little if he needs, at how nice it feels, how gooey and needy he can allow himself to get. accept it as part of himself, that eddie likes it, still likes him, still loves him. just something he needs sometimes. and steve falls asleep, wearing eddies t-shirt.

<3

gonna tag a few people who might want to see, hope that's okay? wanna spread him around and show him off!! look at him!!! our best guy!!!

@pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @spectrum-spectre @just-a-tiny-void @steventhusiast @cherrychapsticksteve @lil-gremlin-things @finntheehumaneater @irethsune

[togrowoldinv]

Paradise

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

The perfect honeymoon with Natasha

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, fingering (r receiving), oral (N receiving), bathtub sex 👀

Note: I finally got a moment to write this while on my trip. Enjoy it!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

You knew going on your honeymoon with Natasha would be one of the best experiences of your life.

The drive was entertaining as you got to know Natasha further and fall even more madly in love with her. She let you play all of your favorite songs and you think you even heard her singing along at some point.

When you got to the resort, the view was better than you could’ve imagined but you found yourself not being able to look away from Natasha. She already seemed more relaxed than you’d ever seen before.

Her red hair shined perfectly in the sun. You suggested getting changed and heading down to the beach. She agreed and you spent most of the day soaking up the sun.

On your way back to the room, Natasha reaches for your hand as you exit the elevator.

“How about a bath?” Natasha looks over at you with a mischievous smirk on her face.

“That sounds perfect, baby,” you say.

Your favorite amenity of the nice resort is the jacuzzi bathtub in the bathroom. It’s more than big enough for both of you to be in together comfortably.

Natasha pulls you into the bathroom and kisses you. The force behind it takes you by surprise, but you love when she takes control like this.

“You are so beautiful,” Natasha says as her hands slip under your shirt. She lifts it over your head before moving her efforts to your pants, sliding them down your legs with ease.

“I want to feel you,” you tell her. You undress her much like she undressed you, and you litter kisses all over her neck and face.

You take a moment to really admire each other’s beauty. The sun made her cheeks a light pink and her eyes have never looked so perfectly green.

Natasha runs the bath and she gets in first. You settle in front of her with your back to her chest. Her hands rest over your stomach and you fiddle with her fingers. The newness of the wedding ring on her hand makes your heart soar.

“We need to get one of these,” Natasha comments.

“Agreed. We also need to go on more beach trips because you’re absolutely glowing,” you tell her.

“Oh yeah?” She asks. You lean your head to look at her and smile. “I think that’s just the result of being your wife.”

“My wife,” you say dreamily. “You’re my wife.”

“I am,” she says.

You kiss her the best you can from the angle you’re at and she lets her hands wander down your body. One rests on your hip while the other touches you so lightly right where you want her.

“Fuck, Natasha,” you softly moan into the kiss. She increases her efforts and lets her fingers brush over you more. You’ve done this with her before, but this time feels different. You must have a look on your face that tells her that because Natasha stops kissing you.

“What is it?” She asks. Her hand runs over your cheek and down your neck in a soothing motion.

“Something about being wives now. It’s just different,” you say.

“Different good?”

“Different amazing,” you say. “I love you so much and I’m just so happy we’re married.”

Natasha smiles at that. “I’m happy too. The happiest I’ve ever been.”

“Me too.”

You share a sweet kiss and Natasha gets back to moving her hand between your legs. It’s easy for her to slip inside you and she curls her fingers perfectly.

“You take me so well, my beautiful wife,” Natasha says. You let out a moan and she’s encouraged to keep going. “Such a good girl. Why don’t you come for me?”

She picks up her speed and soon you’re reaching your peak.

“Natasha!” You cry out as you come for her. She drops kisses to your shoulders as she works you down. Her fingers slip out of you and you turn around in her arms.

“Can you sit on the edge?” You ask her.

“I can do anything for my wife,” Natasha says, smirking at you. She moves to sit on the edge of the tub and you settle on your knees in front of her.

“You’re definitely playing into my wife kink.”

“So?”

You chuckle and spread her legs apart. You’ll never get tired of how she looks when she’s all spread out for you.

“God, I love you,” you tell her as you kiss her thighs.

“Me or my thighs?” She asks.

“Both.”

You dive into her and she shivers at the first touch of your tongue against her. Natasha is quickly putting her hands on your head to keep you in place.

“You’re doing so well, pretty girl,” Natasha encourages. You rub against her clit with your free hand and she lets out the most beautiful sounds.

“Come for me,” you say and she does, holding her hands in your hair the entire time.

You lick her clean and pull her back down into the water with you. You sit face to face with your legs crossing over hers.

“I love you,” Natasha says. It’s still rare she volunteers the words first. Even when you know she feels it, it can still be difficult for her to express it.

“I love you, you tell her. “Forever and ever, my lovely wife.”

Natasha kisses both of your cheeks and then your lips. You then rest against her chest as she holds you close.

The rest of the trip is spent with days on the beach and nights having romantic dinners, with your jacuzzi tub events happening all the while.

It’s the perfect beginning of the rest of your lives together.

[jadeddangel]

The Owl House x Reader

General Headcannons for The Owl House x Reader

Older!Luz Noceda:

Her love language is physical touch and gift giving

She's a cuddle bug

If your sick or not feeling well she'll refuse to leave your side

The kind of girl to write poetry that doesn't make sense

But you can still tell that she does it cause she loves you

She's a horrible cook but don't tell her that

She buys or makes charms for your staffs

She kisses any kind of small wounds that you have

Luz let out a loud gasp "ay! Mi amor! Tu estas bien? Does it hurt?" Luz asked frantically as she held your hand looking at the literal smallest paper cut on your finger before digging in her pocket and pulling out a small bandaid and putting it over the cut and kissing over the band-aid " all better mi amor!"

"Uhm Luz? Why do you just have bandaids?" You asked confused. Luz straightened her lips into a line "uhm.. a good witch is always prepared?" Luz said questioningly

She buys you themed band-aids from the human realm

she tries to teach you Spanish

She's not the best teacher but you can see her effort

Older! Amity Blight:

Her love language is acts of service and words of affirmation

She's really big on arts and crafts

She likes to make you things

She likes to let your palismans play together

She likes to do things like make your laundry and things

Cause in some part of her mind she thinks it'll make you love her more

She's rather shy with PDA at first

She's a touch starved baby

Ghost and your palisman were cuddled up in a little window hammock that amity had made for them

"Hey amity? Do you think our palismans live eachother like we love eachother?" You asked curiously

Amity blushed a bit "oh quiet take your nap you were so adamant on it earlier" amity said defensively

It doesn't matter if you've been dating for years

She still gets flustered if you say anything too sweet

She shows her love with actions rather than words

So she often makes you food

She's an amazing cook btw

Eda The Owl Lady:

Her love language is quality time and gift giving

She likes giving you shiny things

Like rings, jewels, anything that shimmers or shines really

She doesn't particularly like her curse being around you

But after she makes her piece with it she's fine cuddling you

Whether that's in her harpy form or in her full form

She's starting to realize that it won't hurt you

Eda groaned holding her head. "Eda? Dear? Are you ok? Is the owl bothering you again?" You asked sweetly sitting up in edas nest. Eda sighed and nodded "its just getting worse and I don't know what to do it just.. it's like it wants to be with you? If that makes sense?" Eda tried to explain as you nodded along.

"Yknow, eda I don't really mind the owl.. it's rather sweet after you guys had that heart to heart, so how about you just let it put? And if anything goes wrong I'll have elixir on hand" you reassured the older woman

That night was one of the first of many that eda let the owl interact with you

Raine Whispers:

Their love language is the same as Eda's, quality time and gift giving

They can't really cook anything but eggs

They're so sweet

They really like to make little songs/ lullabies for you

but they're willing to learn anything you'd be willing to teach them

They're not really touch starved

But if you so much as lock your pinkys together they're melting in your arms

They loves you with their whole heart so when they're performing or teaching your the only thing on their mind

In all truth the thought of you probably helped with their stage fright

They gets flustered so easy

Raine was playing their fiddle for their class they were playing the song they had made for you.

Raine finished the song after a few moments before bowing and putting their fiddle away gently

They had a smile on their face at the thought of you in the next classroom over listening to them play... just for you

They always sat and ate lunch with you in their classroom

The Collector:

His love language is gift giving and acts of service

Game nights literally every damn night

He likes to hide your things all over your home

He always takes your petty arguments as a joke

He may not be the healthiest but he's definitely always there for you

He's a cuddle bug

Practically clinging to your side where ever you were

He isn't shy about pda in the slightest

The collector was clinging to your sleeve "nooo don't leave!" Collector whined trying to tug yoy back into the house

You sighed "baby please I'm begging you just let go of me I'll be back soon, I've got a class to teach" you bargained

The collector let go of you gently "fine.." he pouted

He's beyond clingy

It's a problem sometimes but you manage

Older!Hunter:

His love language is acts of service, quality time, and gift giving

He makes you little cravings of animals

Especially wolves

Definitely his favorite earthly animal

He's touch starved

Please give him hugs and kisses

Really likes to hold your hand

His hands are rough and calloused after the years of being a golden guard and then his hobby of carving palisman

He likes to visit earth with you for small dates every now and then

Hunter held your hand gently as he led you through a forest on earth, hunter had been planning this small, somewhat simple date over the past month

Hunter had set up some fairy lights and a picnic deep in the woods, he had been quiet and mysterious the whole walk but soon spoke softly. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna kill you or anything" hunter joked

You laughed a bit but paused as you saw the at area "oh hunter.. this is beautiful "

Hunter smiled and helped you sit down "yea.. just like you" he said sweetly

He was sweet and romantic like this alot of the time

He's corny but it's relieving to know that he really cares for you