#but based on those few songs i know they ARE good and i do like them

[forest-hashira]

Naked in Osaka

hi friends! this is my submission for @pixelcafe-network's "challenge friday" that they do every other week! the prompt this week was a random song selected by shuffle, and my assigned song was "Naked In Manhattan" by Chappell Roan, and after a bit of debate (& some help from friends), i decided to go with shoko for this fic. it's a quick thing, but it was fun! i hope to write more for female characters in the future, and this was a good jumping off point 💜

read on ao3 | wc: ~2.6k | cw: gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, but implied fem reader based on song lyrics), alcohol consumption, making out, implied smut at the end (kinda?), implied first sapphic experience (thus the pride divider), shoko calls reader "cute", minor background stsg

“Please leave your message after the tone.” Beep.

“Hey Sho, I know you just landed, and I know you're probably busy, but I would love to see you, so call me when you can.” 

You sighed softly to yourself as you ended the call, tucking your cellphone into your pocket. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that you’d gotten Shoko’s voicemail – she’d been out of the country on a trip and had only just gotten back – but it was still a bit of a disappointment. You hadn’t been able to see her much since you’d graduated from Jujutsu High together, since you’d moved to Osaka just a few weeks later. She was good about returning your calls and texts, so you tried not to think about it too much.

Despite how infrequently you got to see your friend in person, she never really left your thoughts. In fact, you probably thought about her more than was normal. The two of you had been pretty close in school, spending a lot of your time together, especially when Gojo and Geto were off on missions or otherwise wrapped up in each other. You’d been friends with the boys too, of course, but your one on one time with Shoko was where you formed all your best memories of your school years. Around third year was when you realized your fondness for the other girl may have been more than just platonic, but you never allowed yourself to dwell on it or bring it up to Shoko, telling yourself it was no different than the way the boys felt or acted around each other, so there couldn’t be anything weird about it.

Then again, the boys had gone on to start dating after graduation, and last you’d heard they’d gotten engaged, so… Maybe it was worth revisiting those feelings again.

The sound of your phone ringing pulled you out of your thoughts, and when you saw Shoko’s contact picture – a slightly blurry selfie she’d sent you nearly a year ago while she was out getting drinks with her friends in Tokyo, her cheeks a little flushed and a soft smile tugging at her lips – on the screen, you felt your cheeks begin to burn, as if you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing tonight?” Shoko asked, and you couldn’t help but smile. Your conversations with her never really seemed to stop or start; instead, it was more like you’d been having one long conversation with her from the day you’d met.

“Nothing,” you told her, idly beginning to pace your room. “What’s up?”

“Figured I’d come see you if you were free. That okay?”

You bit your lip for a moment, suddenly feeling very flustered. “I-I, uh… Yeah! Yeah, that’s fine. That sounds great, actually.” It was obvious even to you that you were stumbling over your words, and you cringed slightly at how weird you sounded.

Shoko only chuckled quietly at you. “Careful,” she teased, “if you act too excited you might give me a bigger head than Gojo.”

That made you laugh. “As if that could ever happen.”

“You’re right,” she agreed, her words airy with laughter. “Does that udon place down the street from you still do carryout?”

“Yeah, as far as I know.”

“Cool. I’ll cover dinner if you’ll cover drinks.”

“Wine or sake?”

“Surprise me.”

She hung up without saying goodbye, though that wasn’t unusual. You glanced at the time, and though you knew you had a few hours before she’d be there even if she’d already been on the train when she called you, you already felt like you were running out of time for all the things you needed to do before she arrived. 

After a few moments of internal scrambling, you figured out a rough order of operations: popping into the liquor store to grab Shoko’s favorite wine, then a mad dash to make your apartment presentable, then finally a shower before she arrived. The trip to the store didn’t take very long, and you tucked the two bottles of wine you’d grabbed into your freezer to chill while you cleaned and got ready. 

Thankfully, your apartment wasn’t as much of a mess as you’d convinced yourself it was, so cleaning it didn’t take long at all, and you were able to hop in the shower within an hour of getting off the phone. The last thing you wanted was to smell when you saw your friend for the first time in over a year, and you knew you were sweating from nerves. It was ridiculous to be nervous about seeing her, you knew that, but this time felt different, somehow. Maybe it was because you’d been wondering earlier that day if you really did have feelings for Shoko.

Whatever the reason was, you were desperate not to smell like nervous sweats.

After thoroughly scrubbing yourself with your best-smelling body wash, you hurried to your bedroom to get dressed. Overwhelmed with options, you threw on some underwear and paced your room, feeling like a nervous teenager.

It’s just Shoko, you reminded yourself, sitting down on your rug. She’s not gonna care what you’re wearing as long as you’re wearing something. A soft groan escaped you then, and you flopped onto your back and covered your face with your hands.

Your pity party came to an abrupt end when your phone chimed. Pushing yourself up just enough to grab it from your bed, you saw a text from Shoko, letting you know her train was about to arrive, and that she’d be at your apartment in half an hour at most. 

The message made your heart flip in your chest. How long have I been laying here? How long was I in the shower?? Instead of letting her in on your internal panic, you shot back a simple “see you soon!” text, then leapt up from the floor, scrambling to find clothes that were comfortable but also somewhat presentable. Eventually you settled on a pair of pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt, then stepped into the bathroom to make sure your hair wasn’t a complete disaster.

You’d only just finished putting your hair out of your face in a way you were satisfied with when you heard a knock at the door. Heart skipping a beat again, you took a deep breath to steady yourself, then hurried to answer the door.

Shoko stood there with a small smile on her face, an overnight bag slung over her shoulder and the takeout in her other hand. “Long time no see,” she greeted, stepping inside as you moved aside. “Is it cool if I go change real quick?” She set the takeout on your table as she spoke, then turned to you and arched a brow slightly.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll get the drinks out and everything while you do that.”

Her smile widened the tiniest bit. “Perfect.”

She made her way to your bathroom with her overnight bag, and as she shut the door, you pulled a bottle of wine from the freezer and two glasses from the cabinet. They weren’t fancy, and they didn’t match, but you told yourself it was better than drinking out of plastic cups.

Once the glasses were out, you opened the bottle, pouring a fair amount into each of the glasses, though one had a bit more; Shoko’s tolerance had always been a bit higher than yours, so you were sure she would want to drink more than you did to make sure you had the same buzz. 

You had just started pulling the takeout from the bag when Shoko came back from getting changed, and your heart fluttered a bit when you saw her. She wore a tank top with a big picture of Gudetama in the middle and a pair of yellow shorts to match. It reminded you of the pajama sets Gojo had gotten everyone when you were in high school – Cinnamoroll for himself, Kuromi for Geto, Badtz-Maru for Shoko, and Keroppi for you – though you knew it wasn’t the same set from back then, since she wore a different character now. 

“You’re staring,” Shoko teased, bumping you lightly with her hip once she was standing beside you. “Do I really look that hot in my pajamas?”

Though her words left you feeling more than a little flustered, you just scoffed at her and rolled your eyes. “They remind me of the ones Gojo got us when we were in school, that’s all.” 

“He got me these ones, too,” she said with a small chuckle. “They were for my birthday last year.”

“Why’d he pick a different character than the one he picked when we were in school?”

“He said the penguin reminds him too much of Megumi now,” she said with a shrug, and you both laughed. You could see the resemblance too, though; both had the spiky black hair and the deadpan expression, and imagining Gojo telling the boy that nearly made you die laughing all over again, but you kept it to yourself for the moment.

Just as comfortable in your home as she was in her own, Shoko opened a few of your kitchen drawers, grabbing soup spoons and chopsticks for the both of you. “We should watch a movie while we eat.”

“What do you want to watch?” you asked curiously, carrying the takeout to your living room and setting it on your coffee table.

“What was that American movie we watched all the time in school?” she asked, following after you with the utensils and wine. “It was about those high school girls who wore pink.”

“Mean Girls?”

“Yeah, Mean Girls!” she grinned, setting everything down before sitting on the floor, gesturing for you to join her. “God, I don’t know how we never got sick of that movie.”

“Because Regina George was hot,” you replied without thinking about it.

The words drew a laugh from her, and she bumped you with her shoulder. “Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

A small, relieved chuckle left you at her teasing words. “I’m sure we could stream it somewhere if you wanna watch it again.”

“Please, I could use a good throwback.” She took a long sip from her glass, then opened the lid on her bowl of udon.

With a nod, you grabbed the remote for your TV, sipping from your own glass as you flipped through various streaming services looking for the movie. Eventually you found it, not even caring that you had to pay to watch it; it was worth it to have a night in with your friend, especially when you knew it would make her laugh and smile more.

Once the movie had started, you finally got into your own food. You smiled when you saw that Shoko had gotten your order perfect without even asking. She’d memorized it in school, but it made butterflies flutter in your stomach a bit to know that she’d never forgotten it, even after so much time apart.

For the most part it was quiet as you watched the movie, only the soft sounds of occasional slurping and the faint clinging noise of glass on glass when Shoko topped up your wine glasses. Every once in a while, one of you would make a small comment or joke, or you’d quote the lines along with the movie before bursting out laughing. It felt like being back in school, huddled in one of your dorm beds, sharing drinks from a flask shoko had managed to sneak on campus.

At some point, you set your glass down after finishing the contents. It had been your second glass – or maybe your second? Shoko had topped you up enough times that it was hard to be sure – and was enough to have everything feeling a little fuzzy around the edges. Leaning back against your couch, you turned your head towards the other woman, smiling to yourself as you watched her, rather than the movie.

She’s so pretty… even prettier than when we were in school. When did she get so pretty?

“I’ve always been this pretty.”

Shoko’s words startled you a bit, and though it took your brain a moment to catch up, you realized she was responding to your thoughts. Only… you must have said all of them out loud, rather than just in your head. The realization had your face burning with embarrassment. “Oh my god, Sho, I—”

“It’s okay,” she assured you with a smile. She settled into the same position as you, turning to face you a bit. “‘M glad you think I’m pretty. Always thought you were cute, too.”

The whole world came to a screeching halt around you. “…You did?”

“Yeah,” she said easily, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Her words weren’t slurred, but you could see that her movements were loosened a bit from the wine. “Thought you knew that.”

“No, I… How would I have known? You never said anything.”

“I saw the way you looked at me. Thought you’d only look at me like that if you knew.”

You blinked, confused, and more than a little worried. “…How did I look at you?”

Her expression softened at that. “The same way I caught Gojo staring at Geto when Geto wasn’t looking, before they got together.”

The words sent a mixture of shame and hope swirling around your tipsy mind, and before you could really contemplate your next move, you heard yourself asking, “Can I kiss you?”

Shoko’s cheeks flushed a bit, and she nodded, shifting closer and wrapping her arm around your waist. Your eyes widened as she came into your space, and when you felt her breath on your lips, your own finally started cooperating with you again.

“I’ve never kissed a girl before.”

“I’ll teach you,” was Shoko’s only response before she kissed you. She was surprisingly warm, and it only took a second for your eyes to slip shut and for you to melt into her, returning her kiss eagerly. As she kissed you, everything else in the world faded away, the only sensation you were aware of was the feeling of her lips on yours.

It didn’t take long for her to press in closer, tilting her head a bit to deepen the kiss. Stumbling and a bit inexperienced, you did your best to move with her. She held you closer with the arm around your waist, her free hand coming up to cup your cheek, guiding your movements the tiniest bit. Time slowed and stretched out, the moment between you endless in the best possible way. You weren’t entirely sure when her tongue came into the mix, but next thing you knew you were parting your lips to let her in. 

A small sound escaped you as she deepened the kiss further, turning slightly to press you both into the couch a bit more. Still struggling to keep up because of the alcohol in your bloodstream, the movement threw you off a bit. Reluctantly, you pulled away for a moment, needing desperately to catch your breath. 

Shoko smiled down at you as you panted, faces only inches apart. “How was that for your first kiss with a girl?”

“I really wanna kiss you again.”

She laughed softly. “Is kissing all you wanna do tonight?” She arched a brow curiously, her thumb tracing your bottom lip lightly. 

“I don’t know how to do anything else,” you breathed, “but I'd love to learn.”

“Looks like I've got some teaching to do, then. Lesson one: kissing with tongue.” She leaned in again, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss. You were more than willing to let her take the lead, though; there was no one else you’d rather have teach you everything, anyways.

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[luboy7rt]

Trios You Would be in Within COD Ghosts Headcanons - (GN Teammate!Reader)

Note: These are Headcanons of what trios including you would be like.

(Includes: Elias Walker & Gabriel T. Rorke, Logan Walker & David ‘Hesh’ Walker, Keegan P. Russ & Alex V. ‘Ajax’ Johnson, Thomas A. Merrick & Keegan P. Russ and Kick & Neptune.

Elias Walker & Gabriel T. Rorke

(Pre-Federation) 

- In the past before Rorke was brainwashed, Elias, Rorke and you would indeed have been a trio. What happens in this trio? Chaos. Pure chaos, Rorke Is a stern leader, who keeps smugly bringing you and Elias into everything he does. You don't have much choice in the matter even if Rorke gives you a ‘choice’, you and Elias are going along for the ride.

- You three would be on missions together always, even if Merrick, Ajax or the others were There? You three always ended up grouping up together, sometimes separated from the group but you all always just.. pop up at the end of the missions.

- There is some funny moments involved with being in a trio with those two, like Rorke just says.. the most cursed shit (no warning involved, could just be random by just glancing at something and blurting out whatever he suddenly thought confidently with no regret no matter how cursed), Elias just looks unamused by it all and you are there either making it worse or better.

- Elias does look up to Rorke, you probably do too If you also follow his command. Rorke tries his best to be a good leader, he's confident in his skills and does try to keep his teammates, Elias and you safe.

- During battles, even if you don't need help or to be watched over by Elias or Rorke. They end up watching over you, and each other. You three always have eachothers back, but the two can end up being aggressively overbearing over the years. Such as: 

“Are you fuckin’ alive?” - Rorke would groan out over the comms everytime he loses sight of you.

“I don't know, – might be? Probably. They'll pop up sooner or later” - Elias would be quick to attempt to reassure Rorke that you were probably fine.

“Fuckin’ great. Might my ass. Get your ass over here..! The fuck you doing all the way over there!?” - Rorke when he spots you from afar, giving you a firm middle finger, wags it about so you could see it. (He won't care if he also gets enemy soldiers attention with that move either)

That's basically how conversations go, constantly. On field and off field. 

- Bar buddies, even if you don't drink. That's alright, but just enjoying each other's company. The other two are drinking but slowly. Elias drinks slower while Rorke would start slow but end up drinking faster and more throughout the night. (The walk back to base? takes hours of pure military stupidity. No common sense, just stumbling between each other giggling like children) 

(After the Federation)

- Things were never the same between you three, Elias and you drifted apart a bit, Rorke... of course wasn't himself. He hated you both but also had a deep obsession. Rorke makes snarky comments whenever he does see Elias and you, making sure you both know how you ‘betrayed’ him. Elias could never end up killing Rorke, that is his weakness, his regrets… and You? You have to watch it all.

Logan Walker & David ‘Hesh’ Walker:

- Being in a trio with these two is rough, Hesh is the leader, anything Hesh says Logan does and you follow. It's basically a big game of ‘we are doin’ this guys’

‘Sure.’ and nods in response. No questions asked.

- Play fights are a thing, off field only though. Where it's usually Hesh teasing or attempting to pick on Logan, like pushing his head down or elbowing him. Making Logan stumble into you, then you tripping over Riley and it just turns into a hectic ‘sparring’ match between you four. These are the moments Hesh enjoys most, just laughing and grinning with the people he is close with.

- You would definitely take a few road trips whenever there are no missions, it's a chaotic mess, the car volume blasting out songs, the windows rolled down all the way, snacks half open or half eaten. Riley in the back trying to ‘fight’ the wind to keep his face out the window but Hesh is driving a bit too fast so it just looks like the wind is assaulting Riley's face and making the dog do the weirdest faces. Logan gets some photos from sticking his phone out the window. 80% chance he drops his phone and you all have to take a U-turn to go get it back.

- Logan would gently bonk Your head whenever he walks by, because Hesh does the same thing to him. Even if you look un-amused, he just does it a bit harder to push your head down. Even if you start doing it back to him, it becomes a ‘battle’ of wills between you three, who could give the most head pats/head shoves. It's the way they show affection. If you don’t end up liking this habit? He just awkwardly hovers his hand over your head, like he really wants to do it, but also respects you enough to fight himself and not impulsively smack your head,

- Clothes go missing or get stolen all the time between you three, a hat? Shirts? Jackets, gloves? Any type of gear? Whatever is yours is also theirs and whatever is theirs is also yours. finding Riley flopped on top of a pile of missing belongings is the norm as Riley ensures to steal anything he could get his paws on too.

- You would get used to the way Logan and Hesh can communicate with looks, at first you would be like what the actual fuck? But over time you start understanding and using it too. The side-eyes, twitches of an eyebrow, when they bite the inside of their mouth. There are all ways to get the point across, sometimes Logan just blank stares whenever he thinks someone has said something completely stupid, like he will slowly turn to face you and just blank. Nothing across his face except a small eye glance toward the person before staring back at you and he knows you know what he's already thinking. It takes all willpower for Hesh and you to not full-blown cackle. 

Keegan P. Russ & Alex V. ‘Ajax’ Johnson

- Keegan ‘can't’ drive, Ajax can (Safer Option). But somehow, Keegan always ends up driving, you end up in the backseat and Ajax holding onto the car handle for dear life in the passenger seat. Ajax always, doesn't matter how many times he has been in the car with Keegan, glances back at you with a look that says are we seriously letting Keegan drive? Yes. You three end up surviving, Keegan can drive but it is also hell depending on the time of day and the mission. Keegan is relaxing when you and Ajax are having the adrenaline rush of your lives. 

You can't even suggest someone else drive as Keegan puts his attention on you instead of the road. Looking at you offended while Ajax grabs the wheel because Keegan is too busy giving you a nasty look with a raised eyebrow. Are you really suggesting he can't drive? He can drive, you want him not to drive? He's hands are off the wheel. But he laughs and puts them back when Ajax smacks him for that and he will go back to driving. No one brings up Keegan’s driving skills after that as Keegan… Doesn't seem to care how dangerous it is when he ‘stops’ driving suddenly. (But he does do his best to keep you all safe, even if he drives crazily he still knows what he is doing despite scaring you and Ajax)

- Have you ever seen two grown men (+ you) cuddle? Now you have. Ajax, you and Keegan probably have known each other for a long time, it started with Ajax and Keegan just sharing a bed. Keegan taking the cold side alone, Ajax not minding where he sleeps but it started off like this, You somehow joined at the right time and now it’s just the norm to sleep in the same bed. Even if it's not always cuddling (Keegan likes his personal space, Ajax wouldn’t mind though as long as you're not being overbearing). Keegan’s leg always sneaks over the two of you during the night anyway, like he's trying to ensure you're still there with him. This tactical sleeping habit ensures no enemy will suddenly take you three out (That’s what Keegan says anyway. You three end up referring to this as tactical sleeping habit in front of others, and never once do you all admit to what this actually means.) (Everyone else just assumes you three just never let your guards down and actually have tactical sleeping habits to ensure your safety, but nah its just the homies sharing a bed)

- Keegan randomly shit-talks people, just randomly shows up between you and Ajax he would be quiet for a moment, a pause of a moment to wait for either of you to notice him. When neither of you two notice him, he just starts talking about some stupid shit he saw a rookie do. Ajax usually listens along and maybe does encourage Keegan to keep going, because when Keegan starts complaining, he usually comes up with unique and hilarious insults that Ajax loves to hear. You are usually dragged right in between them because they also want to hear what you think and if you would also join the shit-talking.

- Pats. Pats are a big thing between Ajax, Keegan and you. Ajax walks past you or Keegan, you'll be on the receiving end of a back pat from him to just silently let you know he is there. Keegan would nudge the butt of his weapon against your upper back as he walks past or his knuckles brushing your lower back. Its juet small touches like these that you three would exchange often.

- They also head to the bar often, if you don't drink that's alright with them, you can be their ride home because they get absolutely hammered. It starts off easy, then Ajax makes a bet that he could do more shots than Keegan, then it gets competitive then you're hauling both their asses back to base at the end of the night.

- Ajax used to drag Keegan home for the holidays, knowing Keegan didn’t have a place for himself. He ended up seeing you at base one year before they left and dragged you along. You and Keegan end up meeting Ajax’s family and are invited every year until… Ajax dies. Sometimes after his death, Keegan and you would still visit to pay your respects and care for Ajax’s family despite the fact Keegan always turns down invitations to join the family get-to-together, he feels like it wouldn't be right to join when he 'let' Ajax die in his arms. (:Sorry)

Thomas A. Merrick & Keegan P. Russ

- Honestly? It's Merrick who is the most protective in this trio, he doesn't stand by someone trying to start shit with you or Keegan, he will just put his own body in front of yours or Keegans if he thinks you are in some sort of danger/trouble. 

- Keegan is a silent protector, he has yours and Merrick's back, always. No issues for him, he simply always ensures that you're both cared for under his watchful eye.

- Merrick always calls for you or Keegan to do tasks, he knows the other Ghosts could do it, but he relies on you both the most because he just knows he could always trust your judgment/calls. It's his first instinct to call for either Keegan or you.

- Merrick does take Keegan with him on holidays (Especially after Ajax's death). (Whoever said Merrick is definitely a widower I agree so much. I'm sorry I can't remember/find where I first saw the Headcanon). But yes, Merrick usually brings Keegan with him, and he would invite you along as well. Usually takes you both out for breakfast, or a small trip just the three of you. Merrick refuses to let you or Keegan pay for a thing, he just waves a hand at you and shrugs you off if you even attempt to while he pulls out his wallet.

- Picnics. Definitely between the three of you, just taking a moment to yourselves away from the constant chaos that is your lives. It usually just happens in silence, after a few hours. You would be laid in the grass together watching the sun set, then stargaze. During these rare moments of silence, it’s just you three. A rare moment of happiness just you three share, while Merrick calls out whatever constellations he could spot. Even moves his hand infront of your eyes to lead your eyes to also seeing it. Keegan ends up pointing out a few he knows from the last time you guys did this, making sure to remember whatever Merrick points out. 

Kick & Neptune

- Kick is the chaotic one in the trio, Neptune the blunt no bullshit guy and you? Are you along for a chaotic ride with these two?

- They will also judge others together. If you are not around they wait for you just to spill any dirt (they find alot of things on people that they shouldn’t know) they dug up on a poor soul.

- They definitely have some intel/technology talks. (Even if you can or cannot fathom what they are talking about). They don't mind to much, well Kick would try and explain it (if you can't understand still he tries again.. and Again.. and again) Neptune would just sip his coffee in the background listening, doesn't even offer his input even if he could help You understand.

- I can't think of anything of these two as they aren't very known but I just wanted to let you all know that I wanted to add them anyway.

(Might add more to this, might not. Thanks for reading)

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

i feel like you would be a big the guess who fan

I

WAS JUST

WATCHING/LISTENING

TO

ONE

OF

THEIR

SONGS

YESTERDAY

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: Your rockstar boyfriend comes home early and finds you very needy. But he already knows that, doesn't he?

WC: 1.9k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), pure breeding kink, unprotected p in v, masturbation (m & f), mention of ovulation and periods, voyeurism if you squint, rockstar!Eddie Munson, established relationship

A/N: a collaboration with the love of my life @corroded-hellfire, based on the song Juno by Sabrina Carpenter.

--

Eddie Munson may have failed a few classes—there was a reason he had three senior years—but sex ed wasn’t one of them. He learned how to use a condom, that girls could get pregnant their first time, and the difference between a pad and a tampon (living with his Uncle Wayne kept that conversation at bay.)

But the lesson Eddie recalls now is that ovulation occurs about seven days after your last period. Which, according to the pocket calendar he keeps stashed away during touring, is today. 

It isn’t like he asks about your cycle, but when he calls from the road, you’ll mention when you have cramps or you’ve just taken a Midol. At first, he tracked your periods so he could make sure the house had a plethora of chocolate during that awful week, but then he began noticing…other patterns. 

Two months ago, you’d initiated phone sex, whining about how badly you needed him inside you, needed his cum, needed his cum inside you. Last month, you’d cheekily informed him that you’d snapped some Polaroids earlier that day and had express-mailed them to his hotel room—photos that were for his eyes only. Both of those instances occurred two weeks after your period ended. 

This month, Eddie refused to be apart from you when your desire took over. 

That’s how he finds himself ditching the End of Tour party, coming home a day early to surprise you. It’s been months without you, months stuck in close proximity with Gareth, Jeff, and Grant. If Eddie doesn’t get his hands on you soon, he might implode. 

“Babe?”

No answer. 

Eddie frowns, taking the winding stairs two at a time. The light in your bedroom is on, the door slightly ajar. A soft humming comes from inside, the noise interrupted every so often with your unrestrained moans. 

He can’t help but listen for a moment. 

“Eddie…f-fuck…right there…”

If he hadn’t been away for so long, he might have let you enjoy your solo time. Maybe he’d secretly rub one out to your sweet sounds. A high keening sound robs Eddie of his thoughts as he slips his own hand into his pants. 

His mind is blank, no memory of the thoughts that were just floating through his consciousness. Now, there’s only the sound of your breathy moans and the way his fingers wrap around the base of his cock. 

“Eddie,” you whine pathetically, “need you to fill me up, baby. Please, please, please.”

As if his body is running on autopilot in response to what you just said, Eddie removes his hand from his pants and pushes the bedroom door fully open. Your head is thrown back and your eyes are closed in pleasure so you don’t see your boyfriend as he stalks closer to the bed.

“Need your cum, Eddie,” you whimper, body trembling with want. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Eddie coos softly, loud enough so you know he’s there, but not enough to scare you or ruin the mood. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of that sultry voice. The mood in the room begs for you to keep going, to keep working your fingers in and out of your needy hole as Eddie rips his shirt off over his head. But your curiosity is too strong to keep at bay, even with the neediness surging through you.

“E-Eddie?” you ask through labored breath. “What’re you doing home?”

“Skipped out early so I could be with my girl.”

Eddie undoes the buckle on his belt, his eyes locked on yours the entire time. “And it’s a good thing I did. I can’t have my pretty princess all needy for me like this. Let me help you, baby.” Eddie gets the handcuffs off his belt and hangs them on his index finger as he approaches the door of the bed. A dark eyebrow quirks up as he gives you a smirk. “Now that I’m home with these, sweetheart, you don’t need to use those pink fuzzy ones you keep in the drawer.”

“Please,” you whimper.

That one little word is all Eddie needs to hear before he kicks his jeans off and quickly shuffles out of his boxers. He kicks them somewhere to be found at a later time and kneels on the foot of the bed. 

Your dark, lust filled eyes follow his every movement. 

“Eds, can you—”

Eddie grins, already pressing kisses along your inner thighs to your core. “Baby, you don’t gotta tell me what to do. I know this body better than I know my own.”

With that, his tongue finds your clit, licking and sucking with excruciating precision. His ringed fingers wrap around your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders and tugging you close. 

He breathes in, inhaling your scent like it’s a god-sent nectar. 

“Missed my pretty girl and her pretty pussy,” he mumbles into you. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

Your leg twitches as he laps at you, a mixture of his saliva and your arousal pooling beneath you. The noises you’re making are involuntary and straight up obscene. 

“Eddie…Eddie…oh my god, Eddie!” Throwing your head back, you feel your body tense in anticipation of that delicious release. Your orgasm is a tidal wave, crashing over you in a way you hadn’t experienced since Eddie had left for the tour. 

Eddie sits back now, rocking on his heels. “Still got it, huh?” His grin is proud and slick with your sheen. 

“Definitely.”

“Good.” He presses his palms to his thighs and stands up, giving you a better view of his own desire. 

Pre-cum leaks from his tip, his cock rock-hard just from eating you out. You have a strong suspicion that if you’d taken any longer to finish, he would’ve busted before you. 

You want to take him in your mouth, to glide your tongue over the prominent vein and knead his balls until you’re swallowing his load. 

Eddie, however, can only focus on one thing. 

“Heard my pretty girl wants me to fill her up,” he coos. “Is that true? Do you want me to fill you up until my cum drips out of you?”

To his surprise, you shake your head no. 

“Don’t want it to drip out of me. I want to keep all of it inside.”

The groan that emanates from Eddie’s throat fuels a fire in your belly. His cock twitches, the head tapping against his navel. 

“Sounds like you want me to claim you. Permanently.” Not just the hickeys that fade within a few days. No, you want him to—

Without hesitating, Eddie climbs onto the bed and positions himself on top of you. 

“Allow me the honors, sweetheart.” Eddie drags the tip of his cock through your wet center and pushes in with a groan. “Fuck, thassit. Feels even better than I remember.”

You gripped his biceps, relishing in the gentle stretch of him within you. Every tour felt like an eternity, but that first time together each time he came home was worth the wait. 

“Now,” Eddie growled into your ear as he found his pace, “tell me what you want. Tell me what you need from me.”

You scrounge up a reply with the sliver of your mental capacity that isn’t focused on him. “Your baby.”

Eddie smiles, kissing down your jawline. “You need my baby, huh? Need me to put a baby in this cute belly of yours?”

“Mhm. Need that s-so bad, Eddie. Please.” The words tumble from your lips in utter desperation. All you can think about is having his baby, his hands caressing your bump, knowing that he’s the reason you’re pregnant. 

“Goddamn,” Eddie hisses. He buries his head in your neck. “Beg for my baby some more.”

You arch your back, letting him wrap his arm around your waist. “Please give me your baby. Pleasepleaseplease—”

His fingers grip you harder, his movements becoming more erratic with each thrust. You can feel his fingernails digging crescents into your skin. 

“There we go, sweet girl. Fuck, ‘m close…”

You nod, too enraptured in him to even utter the words ‘me, too.’ All you can manage are a few strangled moans as your orgasm washes over you. Your body is light with pleasure, drifting away on a cloud of contentment. 

“Eddie.” The sound of his name on your lips tips him over the edge. It’s just the way you say it, all breathy and soft, that drives him wild. 

With a final groan, Eddie spills into you. “Oh, sh-shit…that’s it. Take it. Take my cum, baby.” There was a primal edge to every word. 

Both spent from all your exertion, Eddie flops down next to you and the only sounds are two ragged breaths as you both attempt to control your breathing. 

Once your bodies have calmed down a bit, Eddie turns on his side and splays one large hand across your lower abdomen. His warm palm is a comforting weight, one that has your eyes slipping closed and a smile coming to your face. 

“You’re home early,” you finally say.

Eddie chuckles and leans in to press a lingering kiss to your shoulder.

“Missed you. Didn’t wanna go to some dumb party if you weren’t going to be there.” He presses another kiss a little higher on your shoulder. “Especially not when you’re ovulating.”

Your heavy eyes open and you let your head fall to the side, coming face to face with your boyfriend.

“How’d you know I was ovulating?”

“I remember when you got your period,” he says. “Just some simple math. I may not have been able to pass geometry, but this kind of math I can do.”

A soft chuckle emanates from your chest and you fully turn on your side to face him. Eddie wastes no time pulling you flush up against his chest, his strong arms winding around you.

“Came here with a mission to knock me up, huh?” you tease, nuzzling your face against the side of his neck. 

“Seemed like an easy decision.” Eddie presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You want to be carrying my baby. I want to get you pregnant. Little Munson Junior wants to be born. Everyone wins.”

You laugh as you bury your face against his shoulder. 

“Would love to have a little you,” you say. 

“Nah, I hope they look like you,” Eddie says. “One of you is already unbearably cute, I can’t wait to have two.”

“Can’t wait to snuggle them,” you say, a lazy smile spreading on your face at the thought. “You, me, and a little baby.”

“Our little baby,” Eddie adds.

“Hopefully this one took,” you say.

“Either way I’m prepared. If you’re not, I’m more than willing to fuck you every waking moment until it sticks. If you are…well, I may have picked up a few pregnancy tests on the way home,” Eddie admits.

“You didn’t.” You look up at your boyfriend, a gleeful chuckle following your words.

“Hell yeah, I did. Corroded Coffin’s latest album and tour are over and done with. It’s time you and I had our own little collaboration.”

“I like the sound of that,” you hum. “We make pretty sweet music together.”

“Oh, we absolutely do.” 

Eddie waggles his eyebrows roguishly before resting his forehead against yours. “But tonight,” he murmurs mischievously, “I’m hoping to hear some screamo.” 

--

[chosows]

"AM I DOING GOOD?"

YOUR OBSESSED LOSER BOYFRIEND

Choso x Fem Reader

Summary: Choso just can’t seem to get enough of you. To him, you’re the only woman worthy of his time—the only woman he’ll ever look at so intimately. When you’re at work, he struggles to cope with your lack of company, becoming desperate for your attention when you aren’t around. Every day he awaits your return impatiently—craving your familiar touch.

Word count: 2.5k

Contains: Submissive Choso, established relationship, masturbation, interrupted masturbation, begging, teasing, no protection, penetrative, cowgirl, missionary, cumshots, creampie

Audio: i based this on this audio from a request. full credits to the VA for inspo

Note: need to write more one shots like this ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

Left alone in the bedroom, Choso grumbles. The past few hours have been spent aimlessly flipping through TV stations; there is nothing to satiate his boredom. He wants one thing and one thing only—you. He flooded your phone with messages, receiving no response since you’re likely making your way home from work. Time couldn’t tick by any slower.

Rolling onto his side, the open drawer full of your panties catches his attention. Choso pierces his lips together, his mind wandering to picture you in your lingerie—thinking about how sexy you look when you tease him, sending him all those naughty pictures when he’s the one at work. The ones he saves to his gallery in a special folder just for you; two albums have your name, one inaccessible without a passcode.

Grabbing a pair, he balls them up into his hand and throws himself back on the mattress, admiring them in the air. A black lace set, simple but equally as seductive. He lowers them to his face, cursing himself for his perverted ways as he sniffs, only to be disappointed by the smell of laundry detergent. No one could miss pussy more than he does; his dick throbs at the thought of your taste when you guide his head, holding him down while he eats you out.

Unable to contain himself, he fumbles with his zipper and pulls his dick from his underpants, his tip sensitive to the touch. Using your panties for added stimulation, he begins stroking himself, wishing it were you touching him. Sometimes, he wishes he wasn’t so obsessed with you—it’s beginning to interfere with his life; deep down, he knows he’d live no other way. You’re the only thought in his head; he’d do anything for you—the possibilities are endless.

Since you’re not home, he’s free to be as loud as he wants. His moans leave his mouth as his head lolled back, letting himself get lost in the endless fantasies his mind curated of you. You enter through the door and take your shoes off, humming the tune to the song playing through your headphones while you walk through to the living room. When you call Choso’s name, he doesn’t reply and your brows pinch together.

“Baby? Are you home?” You call out again, hearing clattering coming from the bedroom.

“M’ here. Wait—” The floorboards creak as you approach the bedroom and he panics, covering himself carelessly as the door swings open.

“I missed you so much!” You beam at him and walk over, holding his head in your hands while cuddling him to your chest.

“Missed you too.” He mumbles, his dick twitching from the material of the blanket rubbing him the wrong way.

“Are you okay? You look pale.” You pull your lips to one side and put your hand on his forehead, slicking his hair back, “You don’t have a fever.”

“I’m okay, just sleepy.” He smiles, his eyes innocent despite the deceit—he’s not tired at all.

“You’re always sleepy.” You hum, pressing your forehead to his. Your gaze lowers, noticing him swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

“Not always.”

“Your cheeks are rosy.” Your thumb strokes over his smooth skin, unaware of the situation under the blanket that he is desperately attempting to conceal.

“You’re so beautiful.” He chokes on his words when you straddle him, your ass directly on top of his hardly-covered dick.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It’s—” He grits his teeth, turning his head to the side, “—Nothing. I told you I’m fine.”

“What’s this?” Underneath the blanket covering him is a slip of fabric. Before he could stop you, you reel it out and reveal your panties.

“I swear I can explain, please.” He whines, grabbing your hand while you stare down at him. You don’t speak, giving him the approval to justify his actions.

“I just wanted to feel you. I missed you so much; I need you so fucking bad.” His eyes were wide, a soft glimmer possessing them while his hands rubbed up and down your hips.

“How long have you been jerking off in my panties?”

“A few weeks—”

You flash a stern glare at him and he huffs, squeezing your fingers while they intertwine with his.

“I know, I’m sorry. Please, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You’re so needy, you know?” Your voice lowers, bundling his shirt as you draw him closer to you. He couldn’t handle being touch-starved for much longer and cracked, connecting his lips with yours.

While you intended to go for a controlled approach, Choso was sloppy, dragging you down with him while his lips assaulted yours. All his pent-up sexual frustration is revealing itself, his tongue meeting with yours in an instant. Despite not being touched, this was all he needed to orgasm, whimpering pathetically into your mouth as he cums all over himself. You pull back and remove the blanket, seeing the trail shot up his lower abdomen and shirt.

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” He murmurs, grabbing onto your face with both hands, “I’ve been a good boy for you.”

“You’ve been perfect.” Your lips twist up, “Only you could cum all over yourself like this. You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“All yours. Only yours.” He hastily replies, grinning right back at you.

“I think it’s only right that a good boyfriend deserves a treat, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“You’ve made such a mess.” You toss the now dirty blanket onto the floor, helping him out of his shirt and boxers.

“I’ll clean it all up later, I promise.”

“Thank you, baby.” You kiss his cheek and pull away, only to feel his grip on your forearm tighten.

“Where are you going?” He whines, tugging you back as you stumble forward.

“I’m going to get changed.”

“No.” He lets his head roll back, his cheeks lit with a red flush, highlighting his dire need for your attention, “I need you now.”

“No?” You cock your head slightly askew, his demanding words catching you off guard.

“You haven’t touched me in ages.”

“You’re going to have to wait, Choso. I won’t be long.”

“Please don’t leave the room; you can do it here. I want to see your pretty body.”

“Let’s make a deal, okay?” You brush your hair away from your face and he nods, “I want you to get yourself off until I’m ready and I’ll stay in the room. Can you do that for me?”

“Am I allowed to cum?”

“What fun would it be if you cum again before I get my hands on you?”

“Okay, I won’t. Don’t make me wait forever.” Choso lets go of you, watching you waltz over to the laundry basket.

His eyes linger on your figure as you strip out of your clothes, using his previous spill of cum as lubricant. It was hard to remain silent, his moans muffled due to him forcing his mouth shut. There is no shame left in him as his body twitches, the sight of you from behind leaving him tearing at the skin on his lips. He was overstimulated, hornier than he was previously—but he never gave up. His body knew you were what he craved—likely the only thing providing him the stamina to keep going.

You grin while your back is facing him, hearing the soft noises he makes while he strokes himself to the thoughts playing in his mind. You glance back, noticing him divert his eyes, his hand trembling due to the repeated motions. Though cruel, you want to see how long you can make him wait. Choso always cums quickly, but he’s the type of man that wants to cum multiple times until he gets everything out of his system—until he knows that he has pleased you. If necessary, he’d continue until his eyes are forced shut.

His heavy breathing increases, his big amber eyes begging you to turn around and place your hands all over him. Under the muffled sounds of his whimpers, he calls for you, his voice too weak for you to register from the distance you’re at. He knows you’re doing this to him on purpose, turning him on as his pitch rises an octave, his whines now desperate cries for attention. You unclasp your bra, slinging it aside, then slowly step out of your panties. His face lights up, a gleaming smile displayed as his hands proceed to tremble.

“Are you ready?” He gasps in between his words, eagerly awaiting you to spin around and join him on the mattress.

“Not yet.”

“You said— We had a deal.” He almost sounds hurt, as if he took the betrayal to heart, “I’m going to cum— You know I can’t last—”

“Relax, Choso. I’m teasing.” You chuckle, spinning around and closing the distance, “You can stop now. You did so well.”

“Did I?” His sticky hand leeches onto yours, “I thought you’d be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I keep sending you inappropriate messages while you’re at work and I steal your panties.” He utters. He feels ashamed at how attached he is to you—many of your friends have commented on his clingy behaviour.

“I like your little messages; I think they’re cute—the pictures too.”

“Yeah? You like them?”

“I love them; you look so pretty in the videos. Got the most handsome face I’ve ever seen, haven’t you?”

“I’ll send you more. You make me this way—I’m so horny. I get so excited for you to come home every day.”

“I can see that.” Your eyes drift down to his dick, wrapping your hand around it, grazing against the veins that decorate it. “All of this because of me, I’m flattered.”

“All for you. I love you so much.” Choso tugs you forward, making sure he’s able to hold you in the kiss so you can’t break free this time.

His lips were soft; you could feel his smirk pressed against you while you shuffled closer. He adored kissing you; exploring every inch of you is a blessing to him. He pulls back and shifts your hips, lining his tip up with your entrance. The moment he’s been waiting for all day is finally in his hands, the greatest privilege he has been gifted in life.

“I can’t wait to feel you. I’m going to make you feel so good.” He mutters, dotting kisses down your arm while you lower yourself onto him, “So good. I’ll make you cum, I swear.”

“Quiet down, Choso.” You snicker, his pupils blown out as he bottoms out inside of you.

“Oh fuck, ‘so tight,” Since he can’t tone it down, you put your hand over his mouth. You silence his moans, barely doing enough to dull the volume.

Your day at work drained you; you don’t have enough energy to remain on top for long, growing exhausted only after the first few minutes have passed. Choso recognises your lack of energy and rolls over, allowing you to lie down. When you give him this opportunity, he makes sure he doesn’t disappoint you. He inches back into you, setting the pace to his liking, carefully analysing your facial expressions.

“Please talk to me.” He grunts, reaching forward to stroke your face.

“You’re doing so well—just like that.” Your eyes flutter shut as his tip massages a point deep within you, stimulating your G-spot. From the look on his face, it’s as though he is awestruck by you; none of this is new to him, he just can’t get over how gorgeous you are.

“Are you close?” He’s aware that it’s early on, but this has been prolonged for him—he’s already at his point of release.

“Not yet.”

“Fuck— I don’t know how much longer I can last.”

“You can do it, Choso. Do it for me.”

“I’m trying. M’ trying, but it’s so hard—”

“Keep yourself there.” You readjust your position, raising your hips slightly while he secures you in place.

“Here? Should I press down?” He rubs his hand on your lower abdomen, applying pressure to aid your pleasure, “Look at you— You’re so pretty. You’re going to be mine forever, aren’t you?”

“Forever.” You mumble your words, repeating them as the satisfaction begins to take over your rational thinking.

“Can you feel this?” He says in a proud tone while his fingers circle around your clit, building your climax rapidly, “Am I doing it right?”

“Mhm’, that’s it.” Your breath hitches, muscles tightening due to the stimulation, “That’s it, Choso.”

“I’m holding out for you,” The atmosphere was filled with heavy breathing and the sound of skin slapping, “Please don’t be mad if I cum.”

“Just a little more.”

“I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.” His voice was raspy, barely able to get his words out. “I love how you take care of me. I love how good our sex is—”

“And— Those other people,” He pants, glaring directly into your eyes, “Who said I wasn’t enough for you were wrong, weren't they? I’m so good for you.”

“You’re more than enough for me.”

“Not every man has to pretend to be emotionless. They’re so jealous because I’m the one you wanted.” He plants his lips on your neck, leaving a soft trail of pecks leading down to your chest, “I’m going to give you everything, going to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

Choso comes undone inside of you, his whimpers flowing while his cum spurts out, filling you up just as he had anticipated. He continues to thrust, making sure you have the opportunity to finish despite him being close to passing out from the overstimulation. His hands are groping your breasts, sliding all over your body, doing anything he can to help you.

“Please cum, please,” He whispers his plea, his breath fanning onto your neck, “I want you to cum for me.”

“Yes— Oh shit,” He laughs in between gasps, not expecting his words to have an effect, “You’re so tight around me.”

Locking with his innocent eyes, you break, losing your composure as your orgasm reigns over your body. Choso is struggling to speak, his words coming out in hiccups while he continues—unable to stop himself. He pulls out of you and shoots cum all over your stomach, letting his drained body fall beside yours. Tonight, he made a mess much bigger than he ever had before, his head spinning while his body regains energy.

“I really needed this.” Choso turns, noticing the sweet expression on your face as you gaze at him.

“I love you too; I forgot to say it back.” You beam over at him while your chest heaves, your body sticky with both sweat and cum, a combination that becomes irritating as time passes.

“Give me a minute and I’ll clean everything up like I promised.” He pecks your cheek, pleased with himself for the state you’re in. Usually, you prefer to be the one in charge of aftercare—you don’t have the heart to stop him as he seems so ecstatic with his performance. “Do you want a fresh set of lingerie or my boxers and a shirt?”

“Boxers and a shirt, please.”

[lxclerc]

𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 ─ 𝐦𝐯𝟏

summary: where max verstappen is the subject of a love song from a singer who never writes love songs pairing: max verstappen x american singer!reader faceclaim: no one specifically but based off olivia rodrigo

note: me? writing max verstappen? smau fluff? on main? everyone look away.

dailyynupdates

liked by user33, user4, user16 and others

dailyynupdates yn was seen around monte carlo the past few days, taking pictures with fans and allegedly cozying up with three time world champion max verstappen

view all 104,210 comments...

user12 what is going on in the house of commons because this was the last thing i expected

user39 this is quite literally the most random pairing i've ever stumbled across

user91 how do they even know each other 😭 user63 right like...where did this even come from? how did it start? literally how did they meet? they could not be farthest apart in the sphere of famous people

user19 now who the hell is max verstappen and why is he with my wife?

user49 oh girl you have a lot to catch up on the max lore user71 max is a formula one driver user56 saying max is a formula 1 driver like he currently isn't dominating the sport to the point where people hates him saying he's making it boring since he keeps winning because he's just that fucking good that literally no other driver can keep up is kinda wild user10 oh so our girl's new man is good at his job user52 "good at his job might just be the biggest understatement of the century when it comes to max. man's a fucking beast at his job

user48 i dont have to see her with her ratty ex anymore omfg war is over

user93 dare i say...they're adorable

user82 yn being in an age appropriate, healthy relationship? i never thought the day would come

user74 we won for real 🥹🫶

dailyynupdates

liked by user23, user31, user69 and others

dailyynupdates max and yn in a video posted by yn's friend 😭

view all 59,129 comments...

user93 oh my god look at them 😭

user81 they look so in love i want to cry

user65 "maximillian, do i look pretty like this?" "you always look pretty" i couldn't quite catch what he said at the end but 😭😭😭

user85 dutch here and i believe he said "laiverd" which means darling user75 this means so much to me user65 you just made my entire week

user45 seeing her in love after all the shit men is healing a part of me i didnt know was broken

user53 max fixing her hood then kissing her cheek what if you just stabbed me

user31 every time i see these, i get the urge to take a shot of bleach 😀

sincerelyyn ✓

liked by conangrey, maxverstappen1, taylorswift and others

sincerelyyn can't have a conversation if it's not all about you

view all 402,452 comments...

yourfriend as the other person of those conversations, he's fine i guess 😒

sincerelyyn you know i love youuuuu

taylorswift love seeing you happy ❤️

sincerelyyn ❤️❤️ user73 mother is all of us user63 you know it's real when it's taylor swift approved

conangrey i hate happy couples i hope you both trip 🫶

sincerelyyn die 🫶

user92 their friendship is everything to me

user15 not girlie trying to soft launch like we all don't know who it is 😭

user43 THEYRE SO ‼️🥵🥰⚠️

user65 you're so right

user24 i'm so happy finally seeing our girl happy 😭

user84 "someday i'll be everything to somebody else" YES YOU ARE BABYGIRL 😭

maxverstappen1

liked by sincerelyyn, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others

maxverstappen1 my american girl 🩷

view all 308,291 comments...

charles_leclerc i still can't believe this is happening

maxverstappen1 for someone who don't even follow me, you sure are early to my posts 😒 user91 max gagged him with that im afraid

landonorris please please max talk to her about getting me tickets 😭

user85 lando is just like us fr struggling to get guts tour tickets maxverstappen1 no ❤️ landonorris 😔 sincerelyyn @landonorris let me get you in contact with my team 🤍 maxverstappen1 baby noooo sincerelyyn be nice, max landonorris HELL YEAH THANKS YN user42 this is the crossover i never thought i needed

user66 max posting non racing content and being all soft in the comments for yn in what world am i in

user52 fr i feel like im in an alternate universe 😭

sincerelyyn love youuuu

maxverstappen1 love you more

sincelyyn i never knew love could be so golden till i met you <3

maxverstappen1 mijn hele hart is van jou, schat (you own my entire heart, darling) user42 they mean so very much to me 😭

danielricciardo god the two of you make me nauseous

maxverstappen1 hating because you ain't us danielricciardo im not liking that attitude, kid 😒 user71 daniel is so us

sincerelyyn

liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, yourfriend and others

sincerelyyn so american will be out on all platforms at midnight. a letter to the man i love, the only way i know how ❤️

view all 592,649 comments...

maxverstappen1 i adore you with everything in my being ❤️

sincerelyyn ik hou van je (i love you)

i hope you guys liked this as much as i loved writing it 🫶

[emmyrosee]

 Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫

THIS IS SO CUTEEEE-

Bro this is so long yaLL GET A SNACK- I never had a senior prom this is my venting PFFFFF-

I do want to make a disclaimer! To make this fic work I had to go and use an American based school system, where traditionally seniors are 18, can drive, and eat in cafeterias. For those about to comment my inaccuracies, thank you!

—-

Sukuna has been a little more than preoccupied lately.

He, who once would spend every afternoon driving you and yuuji home, who would blast your favorite music and take you to McDonald’s for a soda, has been more than busy with someone new.

You don’t know where she came from, hell you’ve known the two of them for years, yet this is the first you’ve ever really heard of the being known as Uraume.

“They’ve actually been friends for years,” yuuji had told you. “I’m surprised you never really met her- though she’s pretty shy. Only close with sukuna, honestly.”

Yeah. Real close.

Within just a few weeks, Uraume has snagged your place as Sukuna’s number one. No longer does he stand outside your class to carry your books to the next. Your front seat privileges go to her. He plays her favorite songs. He drops you off at home before taking her to god knows where to do god knows what. And yuuji is blind to this change, merely glad his best friend is sitting in the back seat with him, all the while it tears you up on the inside.

And it isn’t until you catch a beefy hand shift to hold Uraume’s that you realize it’s over. Your heart shatters, your lip wobbles, and you turn your body to face away from the disgusting sight.

“You okay?” Yuuji asks, gently nudging you with the tips of his fingers, and when you look up to peek at Sukuna’s frame once again, you catch his eyes looking at you in the rear view. You sigh and turn your gaze away.

“What’s wrong, brat?” He asks, and you could throw up when Uraume turns in her seat to look at you too.

She looks genuinely concerned, and you could punch her for it.

“Just… take me home, Sukuna,” you murmur.

“But we’re getting pizza!” Yuuji whines. “I don’t want you to miss out!”

You smile and gently pat his leg, “don’t worry about me, yuuji. I’m just getting car sick.”

Car sick enough you don’t car pool with him anymore.

You’re back to taking the bus, curled on your seat to stay out of other people’s way, leaving home about 45 minutes earlier than you would’ve with Sukuna. It makes you skip breakfast and washing your face, barely giving you enough time to get into clean clothes and head off onto the day.

But it’s better than seeing them interact, a crush and potential romance brewing right in your eyesight. You never told him how you were getting to school, either, not in the mood for his attempts to change your mind or force you otherwise.

Until-

“You’ve been taking the fucking bus?”

There’s a loud bark that rings through the halls of school, people moving out of the way for the one and only sukuna to come barreling down it, some looking in worry, others with their eyes rolling in their skull.

You sigh and close your locker, leaning against it, “did yuuji finally tell you?”

“No, and I’m going to beat the shit out of him for not telling me,” he snarls, leaning in close. “Do you know how fucking dangerous the bus can be?”

You roll your eyes, “people take the bus every day, Sukuna.”

“Yeah. Not you. Not anymore. I drive you. You know that.”

“Not anymore,” you grumble. He cocks a brow in challenge and you roll your eyes, “I have no interest in being in a car with you.”

“Who fucking shit in your oatmeal this morning?” He snaps. “You’ve had a punk ass attitude for the past two weeks, what the fuck happened?”

“Maybe im just not into being babied anymore?” You lie. He furrows his brows and licks his lips as the bell rings.

“This isn’t over. We’re not done.”

“I am!” You sing.

You’ve never had a day at school drag like today has.

Classes have never felt longer, teachers have never talked slower, and the clock has never ticked drowsier. It physically causes your head to pound and your stomach to become nauseous, and agony courses though your veins as the lunch bell rings.

It’s only lunch.

You manage to shuffle your way out to the cafeteria to meet your friends, two who cheer happily at your arrival and one who offers you a nod of acknowledgment. You plop down next to Fushiguro and rub your temples.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuji asks, and you flash him a small smile.

“I just don’t feel well.”

“You haven’t felt well in days,” he points out, “I hope you’ll be alright for tomorrow night!”

Tomorrow night.

Prom is tomorrow night.

You scrub your face with your hands, “I’ll feel better once I eat, yuuji. Don’t worry,” you say quietly.

The drumming of Nobara’s nails on the table don’t help the growing migraine in your skull, and you try your best to drown out the noise of so many people and so many thoughts and so many feelings about your argument with sukuna that you feel like you could throw up straight on this table.

Kugisaki grimaces, “I told your brother to be here today to talk about prom,” she says, poking her juice open with a straw. “He’s late.”

“He’s not late,” yuuji says, pointing a finger at a table just a few down. “He’s over there, with Uraume.”

The minute every vowel passes Yuuji’s lips, a shiver trails down your spine, filling your entire being with heaviness and hatred. You don’t dare look over your shoulder, instead you grab a grape from Fushiguro’s lunch to munch on. He nudges the small container closer, and you take another green grape from him.

“Besides,” Yuuji continues, taking a bite of his lunch, “I’m 98% sure Sukuna’s going with her. Something about her friend group and car pooling, I figured we could catch a ride with someone else.”

Your heart stops completely.

The man you’d assumed you were going with, the man you’d been in love with for years, is taking someone else, the day before prom.

“He WHAT!” Kugisaki snaps, and next to you, Fushiguro laces his pinky finger with yours, squeezing softly to keep you grounded. “Oh! The fucking nerve! I knew he was a piece of shit, but THIS?! Oh, Itadori, why couldn’t you have your license!”

“Hey! Why don’t you!”

“Kugisaki,” Fushiguro says softly. “Him being a scumbag is nothing new. But,” you feel blue eyes focus on the side of your head. “Let’s be a little more gentle about this, okay?”

From behind you, there’s a set of laughter that eases its way over the cafeteria, and you wish it was literally anyone else’s, anyone’s other than Uraume’s, and you hate how light and airy it sounds.

How pretty.

“I know for a fact Sukuna’s not that funny,” Kugisaki grumbles, but all you do is pick at your food and silently pretend to agree with your friend.

Sukuna is funny. Sukuna is so funny it hurts, it brings tears to your eyes and your sides and stomach to hurt, and even though you share him everyday, it hurts now to share him with her.

“Man, she’s laughing real hard,” Yuuji says, taking a sip of his water, his head turned to watch his brother interact with his friend. “Wonder what he said.”

“Yuuji,” Megumi warns.

Yuuji chuckles to himself, “it’s almost like they’re feeding off of each other, it’s kinda sweet.”

“Yuuji.”

“-and I mean, Sukuna’s usually not so open and friendly, let alone cracking jokes. It’s cute-“

“ITADORI!”

Megumi snaps hard enough at his friend to make him shut up, and when yuuji finally turns back to face you, your bottom lip wobbles and you play more with your food. Tears pour down your face, as Kugisaki reaches over to rest a hand on yours, sympathy in her gaze. “Yeah,” you sniffle. “It’s cute.” The hand not being cradled by Kugisaki comes up to wipe your tears, and before you know it, your legs stand up and carry you straight to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall where you’re able to finally let it go. You cradle yourself in comfort, eyes screwed shut as you sob every fiber of your soul out.

Kugisaki calls your name once, twice, then she sighs, “come on. Let’s talk this out, okay?”

“I’m not going to prom,” you confess. “Not if he’s going with her.”

“You don’t know if he is, though,” she argues, leaning against your stall door. “And if he is, and he fumbles the best thing that ever happened to him, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

There’s another person that enters the bathroom, and you hear Kugisaki scoff. “You’re like, a thousand percent not supposed to be in here.”

“Bite me,” the voice snaps, and it doesn’t take long to decode it as Sukuna’s. Your hand claps over your mouth to silence your tears, not wanting him to hear you. “I thought she was crying, I wanted to check on her.”

“She’s fine. Shoo.”

“Kugisaki-“

“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” she snaps, and you close your swollen eyes as she defends your honor. “Because we’re not. Don’t act like you care at all about me or her, or her peace or her business. So fucking beat it, before I snitch you out to the principal, then no one’s fucking happy.”

You hear sukuna exhale in annoyance, “just… text me, okay?” He says, and you know he’s talking to you.

“She’ll think about it,” Kugisaki growls. Once the big footprints are out of earshot, you slowly ease your way out of the stall and straight into Kugisaki’s arms, “I know honey, I know,” she soothes, hugging you tight. “You deserve so much better, babydoll. Fuck him.”

“He led me on for months,” you wail. “And he tossed me to the side like a fucking piece of trash. For her.”

“And that’s why you should go to prom,” she argues, pulling back to look at you, eyes soft in understanding. “You don’t need him to have fun- you’ve got friends who are dying to go with you. And you want to make him real jealous?” She asks, and you quirk your brow in intrigue.

She smirks, “go with Fushiguro.”

You sniffle and shake your head, “I cant do that to Fushiguro. Im not going to use him as a pawn to make Sukuna want me again. It’s not fair.”

Kugisaki nods and clicks her tongue, “why don’t you get a note from the nurse and go home for the day?” She encourages, and you ponder the idea in your head.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible idea… to go home and process the day, figure out what to do about prom, maybe even return the dress for your money back. You sigh shakily and nod your head before the bathroom door bursts open again, emerging a yuuji whose hands are clasped over his eyes. “Just wanted to bring you your backpack!”

You snort and wipe your nose, “thank you, Yuuji.”

“You’re welcome!” He shifts his fingers to peek at you, lifting the middle one to make eye contact, “so… sorry we didn’t get to talk about prom.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, ushering them both out of the bathroom. “I’m… I’m probably not going anyways.”

“WHAT!” He whines, his hands coming down to his sides in a saddened pout. “But! It’s senior prom! We have to go!”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t felt up for it since we made the plan to go. Maybe I’m just not supposed to.” When Fushiguro appears from the men’s bathroom and approaches the group, you flash him a sweet smile, “but I want you guys to still go!”

“Well if you’re not going, I’m not going!” Yuuji proclaims.

Fushiguro shakes his head, “if this is about prom, I won’t go either. We can chill at our houses instead-“

“EVERYONE IS GOING TO PROM!” Kugisaki barks, causing more than a few heads to turn in the hall. Then, she sighs, “we’re all old now. This is it. Our last chance of good memories from this shit fuck of a school. Everyone is going. Period.”

“But-“

“We’ll talk it out later,” you say quickly, noticing the duo of Sukuna and Uraume heading to the vending machines together. “I’m going home. Someone take notes for me.”

“Will do,” Fushiguro calls out for you. You feel three pairs of eyes boring into the back of your skull, but you couldn’t care less.

Not when you’re left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

Getting out of school was easy enough. Working up an excuse that you’re dizzy and need to be rushed home. It’s getting home that sucked.

Before, Sukuna was your ride home when you were sick, cutting classes to get you back to your home so you could take care of yourself and get plenty of rest. Now, you stand at a public bus stop, earbuds in your ears, and you wait. You’ve done this route plenty of times by now, courtesy of Sukuna’s front seat being taken by her.

The ride is quiet enough, your head resting against the cool glass of the window as your phone buzzes violently.

sukuna 💪🏻 Where the fuck did you go?

No seriously wtf

This shit with Fushiguro taking notes for you? The fucks up with that?

Why’d you even leave?

You think you can ignore me?

This isn’t over. Once this bell rings?

I’m hunting you down.

You ignore his threats and let the bus carry you home, your exhausted legs finishing the trip up and into the familiar confines of your house. You’ve got at least two hours before sukuna makes good on his word, and you decide to take that time to take care of yourself- something your heart has been too tired to do since Uraume came into your life uninvited.

After a hot shower, some skin care and topped with some pretty perfume, you make your way to the living room, stopping briefly for a snack from the kitchen.

You put on a movie, but your phone won’t stop buzzing. It’s Sukuna, it’s always going to be Sukuna, and you merely turn it on Do Not Disturb.

If ignoring his texts wouldn’t get him pissed, that certainly would.

But you don’t care. Not anymore.

There’s a ferocious knocking on the door that snaps you out of your zone, and it doesn’t take you long to render the intense energy as Sukuna’s. You pause your movie and shrug your blanket off, making your way to the front door.

Your hands tingle and your heart pounds at the idea of confrontation, but you figure you have nothing to lose as you open the door, revealing an annoyed Sukuna, foot tapping impatiently.

“You think you can hide from me?” he snaps, and you roll your eyes and try to close the door. Sukuna merely jams his foot in the frame to stop you. “Stop fucking around with me, and talk to me. And what’s this bullshit of Yuuji telling me you’re not going to prom?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you say blankly, but all that does is aggravate him more, and he uses a big hand to force the door open more. The act would be attractive to you, had your heart not been torn into pieces by him. “Don’t break my door.”

“Don’t ignore my goddamned texts!” He barks. You scoff and step back inside your house, where he swiftly follows you. “You’re acting like a fucking child.”

“IM ACTING LIKE A CHILD?” You screech, loud enough where even Sukuna’s eyes widen. “Me? After this entire week where you’ve picked your new best friend to cling to, IM THE CHILD?”

“Yes!” He snaps. “What, I can’t have other friends?”

“You seemed pretty content with the one,” you chuckle. “Certainly didn’t need me to keep you entertained.”

“It’s not my fault that Uraume’s been hanging out with me more,” he says, crossing his big arms. “You just can’t handle sharing me once in a while? Are you that insecure?”

This, has you wincing back, his words making you nauseous and tears bite at your waterline, stinging painfully as you finally blink a line down. He takes a deep inhale and cards a massive hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean that-“

“Fuck. You.”

“Look-“

“No, you look, Sukuna,” you growl, hands coming up to shove him hard. “You don’t get to gaslight me into thinking I’m being dramatic, after you’ve completely thrown me to the side and neglected me for the week. You don’t get to make me feel like the bad guy after you led me on for months on end, only to chase after another girl. You don’t get to break my heart, and demand me to piece it back together, only to try and guilt me for protecting my peace! FUCK! YOU!”

“Led you on for what?” He asks, confusion replacing annoyance, but aggregation still in his tone. “The fuck are you spewing?” You reach up to shove him again; this time, he grips your shoulders to make you steady, “are you out of your fucking mind? There is no other girl!”

“Oh, yeah,” you scoff, your voice tight with tears. “You just hold every broad’s hand in front of me. You just rest your hand onto every girl’s thigh, clearly. My bad, Sukuna.”

“I never held her hand, I moved her hand from my thigh, you weren’t fucking paying attention!”

“Yeah? What about not walking me to class anymore? Not carrying my books for me? Not sitting next to me anymore, instead going to be with her?”

His brows furrow, and there’s nothing you’d like more than to smack the expression clean off of his face. “Doll, Uraume is a friend. That’s it!”

“Yeah? Then what does that make us?”

“Everything!” He yells, the plates rattling and doors creaking from the force. The tears in your eyes still as you stare up at him, whimpering and shaking in his grip.

“What…?”

He sighs in exhaustion, “are you so dense you don’t notice just how obsessed with you I am? The minute someone else comes into my life, you’re blind to that?”

“Sukuna-“

“I’ve fought Fushiguro over you,” he continues. “I’ve argued with teachers for being late to walk you to your class. I’ve gotten pulled over speeding to your house to be with you. I’ve fucking been here, wanting you, but I was waiting for you to be ready.”

“Well, you’ve sure had a hell of a time proving it,” you snip, and he grits his teeth to ground himself. “Talking to another girl, taking her to prom-“

“I’m not taking her to prom, I’m taking you!”

“Then why have you been ignoring me!”

Your words are silenced as he grabs you by the chin and pulls you in for a kiss, the broken bits of your soul and heart snapping back together. Your brain stops and your stomach swirls, but your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, keeping him close. He tastes like orange soda and feels comforting like a freshly washed blanket, his band tee getting fisted in your hand as your other one plays with the hair of his buzz cut. He shivers, his arms hug around your waist, panting into your mouth before hesitantly pulling back.

He leans down to your ear, “listen carefully. I’m not taking Uraume. I’m taking you. Uraume is a friend. That’s it. Once I tell her we’re together, she’ll back off, and we’re going to be fine. I’ve been ‘ignoring you’ because I figured you wanted space, but I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Got it?” You sniffle and burrow your face in his chest, letting his big arms wrap around you and keep you safe. He presses another kiss to the crown of your head, and you feel your mind go fuzzy at the moment he cradles you close.

“Missed my annoying brat of a crush. Driving to school was so fucking boring,” he says, and you scoff against him and wipe your nose on his shirt. “Ugh. Ew.”

“You’re supposed to find me pretty no matter what,” you sniffle. “Even if I use you as a tissue.”

“Maybe, just don’t use me as a tissue?” He snickers, and when you loosen and laugh yourself, he gently pulls back to look at you.

“C’mon. Show me your dress. Need to know what color tie I’m getting.”

“You want to match with me?” You whimper.

He smirks, “Kugisaki already hates me. You think she’s going to let us not matching slide?”

“You’re so right.”

[reidrum]

surprise songs | s.r.

A/N: okay listen i am not a fan of unrealistic professions for reader who’s dating reid, BUT i just totally know penelope is one to hyper analyze every surprise song and definitely has theories for when rep tv is coming. it’s canon idk. enjoy this silly little thing it’s just for funsies <3 (not proofread im lazy)

spencer reid x popstar!reader

cw: literally none, reader is basically taylor swift for convenience purposes, angry penelope?

summary: garcia yells at reid because you sang sad songs on tour, how could you do that reid

wc: 0.5k

——————————————————————————

Penelope’s heels clack through the bullpen with a vengeful mission to find a certain stupid boy genius. She walks past Derek’s desk who lets out an amused whistle and turns his chair to watch her wreak her wrath.

Hell hath no fury like a Penelope scorned.

“What the hell did you do?” She exclaims, lightly smacking the back of Spencer’s head.

Spencer reacts in shock, “Hey! What was that for?” He tries to rack his brain for what Penelope could be upset about. Did he miss her birthday? An event?

She pulls out her phone and shows the screen to Spencer, who leans closer and strains to read it.

[“SURPRISE PIANO SONG N1 WEMBLEY: Teardrops On My Guitar/The Last Time!”]

Oh.

You and Spencer had been dating for a year now, a little before you embarked on your world tour. Every night you would perform a few acoustic songs that differed each show, and some fans liked to read into the diabolical combinations you’d come up with.

“Garcia, I didn’t do anything!”

“Then why, would she sing those together! Do you not understand how insane those choices are? Together?! You obviously did something to make her do that, and as the only person close enough to you to do something it’s my job to reprimand you.” She huffs.

Spencer chuckled to himself, he knew Penelope was a huge fan of his girlfriend but he found it amusing that she was analyzing their relationship from song choices.

She playfully thwacks his forehead again. Spencer shouts, “Maybe she just wanted to sing sad songs, I don’t know!”

“Bullshit, Reid.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

He held his hands up in mock surrender, “Do you want me to ask her?”

“Oh my god, no! You dummy, don’t do that. I don’t want her to think I’m like, a crazy fan or something.”

Derek snorts from the back of the bullpen, Spencer shakes his head, “Okay, would you prefer I sit in a corner and think about my actions?”

“Actually, yes that would be nice.”

He raises his eyebrows in amusement and stands up, walking to an unoccupied corner of the bullpen and sits down, looking back at Garcia with a faux sad look on his face, “This good?”

Penelope nods triumphantly and clacks back to her cave. Spencer laughs to himself as he pulls his phone out, opening up a flower delivery website.

It can’t hurt to cover his bases, right?

The next day Spencer gets a text from you,

Thank you for the flowers, my love. They’re almost as pretty as you. Can’t wait to see you soon, love you :)

He smiles and replies lovingly to you, and sets his phone back down to finish the rest of his work.

Later that day Penelope comes back into the bullpen to deliver something to Hotch, and passes Spencer’s desk, and before he has time to brace for impact she gives him a cautionary smile, “You did good, but you’re still on thin ice, Reid. “

Happily confused, Reid pulls out his phone again to google search what you sang today, piecing together the obvious reason for Penelope’s change in attitude towards him.

[SURPRISE SONG PIANO N2 WEMBLEY: This Love/Ours!]

His cheeks rise in a blush, feeling bashful and loved. He sends you another loving text with a promise to call you tonight.

Safe to say, Penelope is more than pleased with the following surprise song choices in the next shows.

[intheholler]

the appalachian murder ballad <3 one of the most interesting elements of americana and american folk, imo!

my wife recently gave me A Look when i had one playing in the car and she was like, "why do all of these old folk songs talk about killing people lmao" and i realized i wanted to Talk About It at length.

nerd shit under the cut, and it's long. y'all been warned

so, as y'all probably know, a lot of appalachian folk music grew its roots in scottish folk (and then was heavily influenced by Black folks once it arrived here, but that's a post for another time).

they existed, as most folk music does, to deliver a narrative--to pass on a story orally, especially in communities where literacy was not widespread. their whole purpose was to get the news out there about current events, and everyone loves a good murder mystery!

as an aside, i saw someone liken the murder ballad to a ye olde true crime podcast and tbh, yeah lol.

the "original" murder ballads started back across the pond as news stories printed on broadsheets and penned in such a way that it was easy to put to melody.

they were meant to be passed on and keep the people informed about the goings-on in town. i imagine that because these songs were left up to their original orators to get them going, this would be why we have sooo many variations of old folk songs.

naturally then, almost always, they were based on real events, either sung from an outside perspective, from the killer's perspective and in some cases, from the victim's. of course, like most things from days of yore, they reek of social dogshit. the particular flavor of dogshit of the OG murder ballad was misogyny.

so, the murder ballad came over when the english and scots-irish settlers did. in fact, a lot of the current murder ballads are still telling stories from centuries ago, and, as is the way of folk, getting rewritten and given new names and melodies and evolving into the modern recordings we hear today.

305 such scottish and english ballads were noted and collected into what is famously known as the Child Ballads collected by a professor named francis james child in the 19th century. they have been reshaped and covered and recorded a million and one times, as is the folk way.

while newer ones continued to largely fit the formula of retelling real events and murder trials (such as one of my favorite ones, little sadie, about a murderer getting chased through the carolinas to have justice handed down), they also evolved into sometimes fictional, (often unfortunately misogynistic) cautionary tales.

perhaps the most famous examples of these are omie wise and pretty polly where the woman's death almost feels justified as if it's her fault (big shocker).

but i digress. in this way, the evolution of the murder ballad came to serve a similar purpose as the spooky legends of appalachia did/do now.

(why do we have those urban legends and oral traditions warning yall out of the woods? to keep babies from gettin lost n dying in them. i know it's a fun tiktok trend rn to tell tale of spooky scary woods like there's really more haints out here than there are anywhere else, but that's a rant for another time too ain't it)

so, the aforementioned little sadie (also known as "bad lee brown" in some cases) was first recorded in the 1920s. i'm also plugging my favorite female-vocaist cover of it there because it's superior when a woman does it, sorry.

it is a pretty straightforward murder ballad in its content--in the original version, the guy kills a woman, a stranger or his girlfriend sometimes depending on who is covering it.

but instead of it being a cautionary 'be careful and don't get pregnant or it's your fault' tale like omie wise and pretty polly, the guy doesn't get away with it, and he's not portrayed as sympathetic like the murderer is in so many ballads.

a few decades after, women started saying fuck you and writing their own murder ballads.

in the 40s, the femme fatale trope was in full swing with women flipping the script and killing their male lovers for slights against them instead.

men began to enter the "find out" phase in these songs and paid up for being abusive partners. women regained their agency and humanity by actually giving themselves an active voice instead of just being essentially 'fridged in the ballads of old.

her majesty dolly parton even covered plenty of old ballads herself but then went on to write the bridge, telling the pregnant-woman-in-the-murder-ballad's side of things for once. love her.

as a listener, i realized that i personally prefer these modern covers of appalachian murder ballads sung by women-led acts like dolly and gillian welch and even the super-recent crooked still especially, because there is a sense of reclamation, subverting its roots by giving it a woman's voice instead.

meaning that, like a lot else from the problematic past, the appalachian murder ballad is something to be enjoyed with critical ears. violence against women is an evergreen issue, of course, and you're going to encounter a lot of that in this branch of historical music.

but with folk songs, and especially the murder ballad, being such a foundational element of appalachian history and culture and fitting squarely into the appalachian gothic, i still find them important and so, so interesting

i do feel it's worth mentioning that there are "tamer" ones. with traditional and modern murder ballads alike, some of them are just for "fun," like a murder mystery novel is enjoyable to read; not all have a message or retell a historical trial.

(for instance, i'd even argue ultra-modern, popular americana songs like hell's comin' with me is a contemporary americana murder ballad--being sung by a male vocalist and having evolved from being at the expense of a woman to instead being directed at a harmful and corrupt church. that kind of thing)

in short: it continues to evolve, and i continue to eat that shit up.

anyway, to leave off, lemme share with yall my personal favorite murder ballad which fits squarely into murder mystery/horror novel territory imo.

it's the 10th child ballad and was originally known as "the twa sisters." it's been covered to hell n back and named and renamed.

but! if you listen to any flavor of americana, chances are high you already know it; popular names are "the dreadful wind and rain" and sometimes just "wind and rain."

in it, a jealous older sister pushes her other sister into a river (or stream, or sea, depending on who's covering it) over a dumbass man. the little sister's body floats away and a fiddle maker come upon her and took parts of her body to make a fiddle of his own. the only song the new fiddle plays is the tale about how it came to be, and it is the same song you have been listening to until then.

how's that for genuinely spooky-scary appalachia, y'all?

[nexysworld]

summary: Brat tamed by your step dad. pairing: Step Dad Toji x Fem!Reader tags: NSFW, Smut, Stepcest, Daddy Kink, Age Gap, Pussy Slapping, Spanking, Mean!Toji, Degradation Kink, Unprotected Sex, Manhandling, Dub-con, fem receiving oral, Reader is 18+, MDNI wc: 2.4k

Read on AO3 || Ask Box || Masterlists a/n: this is my first time writing for JJK and Toji, but god am I down BAD for this man. I wanna practice and write more because....yeah. 😏 Title based on the song. Also special thanks to @kaitkatme for beta-reading this for me.

“Fuck off Megumi, you’re always breathing down my neck!” You yelled, chucking the pillow across the room at your step brother. “Seriously, get out!”

“I’m only doing what I’m supposed to as your big brother!” He yelled back, easily dodging the weaponized cushion. “Dudes like that are only looking for one thing. They’re dangerous.” “Really? You sure? I would say you’d know, but I don’t think you’re getting any either.” You replied, rolling your eyes. 

“Whatever, give me the phone.” His hand was stuck out expectantly.  “No way! I’m an adult, I can go out with whoever I want.” 

The two of you tussle back and forth around the room, grappling over the device in your hand. Luckily for you, his back was to your bedroom door, giving you the chance with one good shove to send him staggering backwards into the hallway, sticking your tongue out at him for good measure. The door slammed shut with a loud thud, and you clicked the lock to make sure he couldn’t get back in so easily. 

You flopped back down onto the plush bed, intending to return to what you were doing when noise caught your attention. Loud stomping, followed by some muffled arguing – you recognized one of the voices as your step dad, he must’ve been woken up by the argument. 

As the voices got closer you could make out the tail end of the conversation.  “Why don’t you just buckle up and be a father for once.” “Will you stop naggin’ me, she ain’t even my kid.” “She calls you dad.” “So do you, fuckin’ brat. And you don’t listen to me either.”  “You really want her skulking around with one of those mercs? Bet that’ll look real good on you, old man. Your rivals joking about going through rounds with your slutty daughter.” 

“Tch, fine. But only because I’m sick of your fuckin’ nagging kid. We both know she isn’t goin’ to listen t’me.” His footsteps were heavy as they closed in on your room. The front door of the house slammed close downstairs, Megumi having retreated. There was a brief silence outside your door as he pondered what to say before his heavy fist landed on the door a few times. “Open up.”

“Don’t think I will.” You added, not feeling like being lectured again, and especially not by the deadbeat who fucks your mom. Or did fuck your mom, no one really knew where mom was these days. 

There was a huff of frustration as he banged on the door again. “I ain’t askin’ twice.”

“Then don’t.” You lazily went back to scrolling on your phone. 

“You fuckin’ brats are really startin’ to piss me off today.” A loud boom rattled the walls, nearly giving you a heart attack. Your bedroom door had been kicked right off the hinges, the top half of the door tangling by what was left of a single screw, the bottom half launched into the wall across the room. 

You’d seen Toji go at it with Megumi before, tossing all sorts of things at him with his absurd inhuman strength, but you’d never been the target of that anger before. Your mouth opened in shock, ready to say something, but words caught in your throat as he marched towards you.

“First I’m woken up because the two of you can’t keep yer traps shut. Then I get an earful about you running off with some merc kid – thought I raised you better than that.” “You didn’t raise me at all!” Toji had been around as long as you could remember, probably the closest thing you’d ever have to a real dad. Except he only really acted like a father when he was trying to get in your moms pants – or when you made cute bait for a potential bounty he was trying to collect on.  “Shut it.” He said, towering over you. “Screw you!” You spat indignantly.  “I ain’t dealin’ with any more shit today.” It always impressed you how fast he was, for such a large buff guy. Even still, it shocked you how quickly he managed to flip your positions, him sitting on the bed, you bent over his lap. The only noise you could get out was a yelp as his hand collided with your clothed butt cheek, the red hot warmth of pain radiating outwards.  “What happened to that filthy mouth?” He asked mockingly, this time tugging your pajama pants down to expose the plush mounds of your ass. “Come on princess, you wanna talk like a big bad adult, then talk.” He brought his hand down again, this one knocking the wind out of you, making your legs kick behind you tangled in your pajama pants – fat hot tears forming in your waterline. “No? Nothing?” He asked again, as he continued his onslaught, large hand imprinting its shape on you. “That’s what I thought. Shoulda knocked some manners into both you brats forever ago.” 

He shoved you off of him, making you tumble head first onto the floor. Your face was red with anger, cheeks puffed out, righting yourself just enough to look up at him, still tangled in your own pants. He looked down at you amused, scanning your form. He grabbed your face with his hand, squishing your cheeks together, forcing you into a kissy face. “Now that’sa look.” He mused. “Acting like you’re ready to go run around with boys, but can’t even stop snottin’ and cryin’ like a kid after getting spanked by your Daddy.” You wanted to say something back, insult him, tell him to shut up. But you couldn’t, ass sore, mouth still pushed out between his fingers. Instead, you glared him down as best you could.

“What was your plan anyway? Hope he’d take you somewhere fancy, call you pretty names while he licked that little cunt? Or were you hopin’ he’d be mean, put you in your place.” He chuckled, leaning forward so your faces were close together again. “Maybe Megumi was right – ‘m gonna have to listen to stories from half the guild about my slutty little girl, aren’t I?”  “N-no!” You managed to squeak out at the accusation, it fell on deaf ears as he continued rambling his own thoughts. “Only thing I can’t understand is why you’d pick some loser I work with. When ‘m sure there’s plenty of punks crawling around this city, ready to get their dicks wet.” His eyes narrowed, a smug ear to ear grin taking over his features. “Oh, I get it now, you want someone just like your Daddy, don’t you?”  Heat pooled between your legs at his words, cheeks on fire with embarrassment more than anger now. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping he didn’t notice. He let go of your face finally, red finger marks lingering on your skin. Despite having the chance to speak, you were stunned into silence. 

He noticed.

Of course he noticed. 

Toji yanked you up by your arm, roughly pulling you into his lap, pressed against his chest with your head over his shoulder. His large, rough fingers trailed down the semi-circle of your ass cheek to dip lower from behind, gently brushing against your slicked folds.  “Looks like I’m right on the mark.” “N-nuh uh!” You denied, exasperated.

“Dumb little brat, runnin’ around looking for trouble when all you need is your Daddy, right here at home.” He played with you a little, stuffing his index finger into your wet heat, his thumb rubbing against your clit in even circular motions. You whined, squirming your legs at the sensation, feeling your walls clamp around the digit. What remained of your dignity was fleeting, as you felt his cock press against your leg through his pants. “Looks like she’s been cryin’ for attention – no wonder you’ve been such a bitch lately. Shoulda known it woulda been easier to just fuck the ‘tude out of you.” 

He pulled his hand out of you so he could toss you unceremoniously onto the bed, ripping your panties and pajama pants off the rest of the way. By the time he yanked your shirt up, your hands were covering your face in embarrassment.  “Nah, none of that shy shit.” He chided, easily gathering both your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Look at me, princess.” He used his free hand to force you to meet his gaze again. “You wanted this, remember? So you’re gonna be a good girl and watch while Daddy makes you feel good, understand?” You scrunched up your face in a glare again, still not wanting to give him the satisfaction of absolute obedience. The hand holding your face collided with your cheek in a sharp slap, making your tits bounce a little as you jerked with the motion. “You wanna keep that brat shit up and I’ll just fuck you raw instead, how about that?”  “W-wait no!” You exclaimed.  “S’what I thought.” Your step dad let go of your wrists so he could lift your lower half up, tossing one leg over his shoulder, tongue messily sliding up your slit before lapping at the bead of nerves. Like most things with Toji, he was quick, flicking his tongue side to side before circling it around your clit.  His hands dug into your hips with a bruising grip, you looked up catching the top of his head and eyes between your legs. Eyes squeezing shut in short-lived pleasure. “G-guah!” You made a sound, a mix between a moan and a yelp as you felt a lightly stinging slap to your pussy, eyes shooting back open.  “What did I say?” “T-to watch.” Another slap against your pussy made you squeal. “Then why were your eyes closed, hmm?” “‘M sorry!” Another one, this time angled just right that you managed to feel it against your clit too. “Wh-why?” “You’re sorry, what?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You replied. “Good girl.” Praise from him was rare, and while it was dripping with sarcasm, you couldn’t help the way it made your chest flutter. He resumed his meal between your legs, messily slurping you into his mouth. Your body felt like it was burning up, pleasuring pulsing between your legs each time he applied pressure with his wet muscle to your clit. 

Your back arched in pleasure, legs kicking at his back as you came, hard. “Oh god.” You whined, not able to keep your eyes open this time as waves of pleasure rolled over you, through your stiffened muscles. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care this time, dropping your lower half down so he could wipe your slick from his chin with the back of his hand. 

Your eyes, half lidded, watched as he reached down, pulling himself free of his gray pants. You let out an audible surprised sound as you watched him stroke himself a few times. It was thick from tip to base, uncut with pearly beads of precum that dribbled onto your thigh with each stroke. He ran his thumb over the tip, hissing at the sensation before rubbing it along your bottom lip, letting you taste him. Greedily you sucked the digit into your mouth, grinding your hips up when you tasted the slightly bitter liquid.

“Shit. You’re fuckin’ cute, I’ll give you that.” He said, pulling his hand back to line himself up with your entrance. He pushed into you, grunting as your tight walls clenched around him. “Tight as hell too. Relax.” He groaned, sinking inch by inch into you until the tip of his cock pressed snuggly against your cervix. It was overwhelming how full you felt, like you’d be split in half if he were any bigger. 

Not one for patience he leaned forward, nearly folding you in half, as he slid out to the tip before slamming back in, watching as you writhed beneath him, gripping the sheets. Your pupils were blown, you could feel his breath against your face again with how close he was in this position.  “Look at you givin’ me those lovey dovey eyes. Want a kiss too?” He asked. “Please?” You nodded, letting go of the bedding to wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him. He obliged the request, pressing his lips to yours – rough and slightly chapped. He gave a few shallow thrusts while tangling your tongues together, pulling away just enough to give him a better angle to fuck into you harder.  “S’too much.” You croaked as he set a steady pace, brutally pumping himself inside of you. “S’too much.” You repeated, eyes scrunching shut, overstimulated between the stretch and speed of his movements. “S’okay, you can take it.” He replied, between movements.  You clung to him tightly, a fresh set of tears brimming at your eyes, toes curling with pleasure. “‘D-daddy.” You sobbed out, clawing at his back. Each time he sunk back into you, he hit a special spot, one so deep you’d never reach it on your own. It made stars sparkle on the back of your eyelids. 

“That’s m’girl, let it all out. Gonna fill this bratty little hole up, make sure she remembers who’s in charge, yeah? Gonna be a good girl from now on?” “Mhmm.” You replied, so close to your second orgasm. “Never be bad…nnng…again….” Your muscles tensed, the pressure exploding again as you cried out, second orgasm exhausting the last of your energy. Your velvety walls clamping down were enough to bring him to completion too, his cock twitching as hot cum spurted out, drooling into your spent hole. 

Eyelids heavy with exhaustion, you barely registered when Toji pulled out, or when he’d laid down next to you tucking you into his side. Your body naturally curled into his warmth, head sinking into the pillow as sleep pulled you under. 

It wasn’t until you heard the telltale sounds of arguing again did you even bother to crack one eye open. Megumi stood in the broken doorway, looking like steam was coming out of his ears. “What?” Toji asked lazily. “You didn’t want her goin’ with that guy, now she’s not. Problem solved.”  “Problem not solved –” He began, before you chucked a pillow at him again.  “Go away, Megumi.” You groaned, burying your face back into your step dad’s chest to resume your nap, too tired to feel any sense of shame or embarrassment in the moment. 

[twstedreamweaver]

Missing Magazines

Octavinelle with a Fashion Model Reader

How would the Octavinelle boys react to you being a model? Based on the premise that you, the reader, are a model and are featured in a popular fashion magazine that Sam sells at the school - except when you go to buy one, you realize that someone bought out almost all the magazines. Who could it be?

Things to mention: Azul never stopped signing contracts with people and the Octotrio are still shady. Reader is slightly different from canon Yuu. Also, this is my first fanfic, so I apologize in advance for any inconsistencies with POV! Twisted Boys featured: Azul, Jade, Floyd

The warm sun was a welcome surprise after several dreary weeks of intermittent rains and grey skies. Throngs of students were happily milling about on the central lawn, some boys from Savanaclaw were throwing a Spelldrive Disc like a frisbee, and you spotted some Ignihyde students actually touching grass for once.

With the passing of the Spring rains, Night Raven College seemed to spring back to life with the touch of a little sunshine.

And just in time for the release of the summer edition of one of the top magazines in Twisted Wonderland, Fleurs de la mode. However, this edition was special - it was your first official modeling gig for a fashion magazine.

Admittedly, when you were first scouted by a modeling agent at the NRC's Song and Dance Championship, you were hesitant (I mean, after dealing with the outrageous amount of con artists at NRC, who wouldn't be skeptical), but the Fleur City Associates modeling agency turned out to be legitimate. After some back and forth with your agent, and several gigs later, you got the opportunity to model for a popular fashion magazine on account of your unique "otherworldly'" flair, which you assumed was a weird compliment from one of your managers. Regardless, your nerves had long since worn off with the first paycheck (thaumarks are hard to come by) and now you were excited to see your hard work in print.

"Welcome back, my little imp." Sam waved from behind the counter. "What can I conjure for you today?"

"Good morning, Sam!" You smiled, "I heard that you just got in the newest edition of Fleurs, could I buy one off you?"

Sam gave you a peculiar look, before smiling - wait, was that a trace of a smirk?

"I do apologize little imp, but I am fresh out of stock. Those magazines flew off the shelves this morning."

"Wait, but didn't you just open like thirty minutes ago?"

You were a bit disappointed. On one hand, you didn't really need the magazine, but on the other hand, it would've been nice to have at least some proof of your accomplishment in this strange world. At a school where magic was the highest priority, it was nice to finally be known for something that wasn't just your lack of magic ability.

"Yes but, eh hee hee, it seems the magazine was quite popular this time around." Sam snickered. You sighed.

"However," Sam continued, "You've lucked out this time little imp, For the same price as a magazine, I can tell you who bought out half my stock. I'm certain that you can get one from him for free!"

"Thanks Sam, for the, uh, considerate offer, but I think I'll pass!" You remarked, trying to think of who might have bought out such a large stock of magazines.

"Are you certain, my little imp?" Sam leaned over the counter, smiling, a bit too maliciously for your liking. "Don't you want to see your magazine debut firsthand?" Huh?

You were only featured on a few pages, so how did he even know you were in there? Did he actually read the fashion magazine? Looking at his attire, you find that highly doubtful.

"How'd you know about that?" You inquired, trying not to sound overtly suspicious.

"Why else would so many imps be standing in line outside my shop at seven in the morning?" Sam, for sure, was smirking this time.

No way. How did this get around? You felt your face go hot, suddenly embarrassed. Hold on, you reasoned with yourself. Vil is a model too, along with some other Pomefiore students, so students modeling shouldn't be a shock to anyone!

But if the reason the magazines sold out so quickly was - that is, if Sam's not tricking you - because of your shoot, then why would anyone buy half of the entire stock? Especially at Sam's ridiculous prices.

You sighed; you'll figure this out later.

"I'm good, Sam. Thanks for the offer, but I've got to get going to my next class." You quickly backed away from Sam and ducked out the front door before he could cut you off with another suspicious offer.

"Come back anytime little imp!" The door swinging shut behind you as Sam big you goodbye.

God, was there a single good person in this school??

Wait, a realization suddenly hit you. The guy who bought half the magazines, was it-

——-

You practically stomped across the school, through the mirror room, and into the Octavinelle dorm.

You didn't lie to Sam earlier; you really did have to go to class. And then after four classes and nearly eight hours, you had to go to club. So, now it was practically late afternoon, and you were only now on your mission to hunt down the buyer of some 60+ magazines.

The moment you stepped inside Mostro Lounge, two tall, ominous figures seemed to materialize directly beside you.

"Hello Jade. Hey Floyd."

"Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, before wrapping his long arms around your torso and squeezing tightly.

"Now now, Floyd," Jade smirked, "Let's not squeeze the life out of our little Prefect."

"I'm here to discuss some things with Azul." You told the two 6-foot-tall eels.

You must have sounded agitated because Floyd and Jade quickly took the hit and grabbed onto each of your arms respectively and dragged walked me to the VIP room.

"Now then, who are we to interfere with your business affairs?" Jade let go of your left arm to open the large, ornate VIP room doors.

"Only VIP access for our Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, striding into the VIP room where some student was groveling on his hands and knees, begging Azul for something. I noticed that he had a small anemone sprouting from his head, looks like Azul got another freshman. Grinning, Floyd roughly grabbed the poor student by his shirt collar and unceremoniously threw him out the door.

Jade sinisterly smiled at the boy, before bending down to say something in a hushed tone, causing the boy to squeal and shuffle away frantically. Jade smirked, stood, and walked over to stand beside the seated and slightly flustered Azul, as Floyd slammed the doors.

For once, and to my astonishment, Azul, usually the pristine image of a savvy businessman, looked a little nervous.

You were surprised that he didn't even object to Floyd tossing his client (more likely his victim, given the anemone) out.

Azul pursued his lips and tented his fingers on the table, before taking a breath and seeming to regain his composure.

"Why, (Y/N), to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?"

Azul typically spoke formally and eloquently, but given your and his relationship as friends, his behavior was a little, unusual. Something smelled fishy, and it wasn't the fish swimming outside or the mermen in the room.

You chalked it up to your own misunderstanding of the situation, or to Azul already going into business mode to prepare for what was coming.

"I'm here about the Fleur magazines you bought."

For a brief second, the three (well, more like two, Floyd just seemed slightly humored) seemed to go pale. Azul gave you a blank stare, mouth slightly open, and Jade turned away to focus intently on the wall with a trace of a grimace on his face. Floyd chuckled and looked at Azul.

Weirdos. What is up with them today?

"You're reselling those Fleur magazines for a profit, aren't you?" You continued on.

A brief moment passed. Jade turned back to look at you and Azul quickly snapped back to reality with a small laugh and a smirk.

"Yes! Why, you deduce correctly, Prefect, I did buy the remaining stock in order to resell them. They're quite in high demand, given your popularity amongst the student body."

"I apologize if you wanted to buy one, but I couldn't miss such a lucrative and perfectly legal business opportunity!" Azul cloyingly apologized, gesturing with his hands in a show of mock apology.

Floyd and Jade nodded along in fake sincerity. Seems you guessed right after all.

"Okay, seeing that you're admitting it, I'm not really that mad. But, also, seeing that you're going to profit off my face, I have a proposal."

The three leaned forward. "Do go on," Azul nodded.

"I can sign my picture in one of the magazines, so you can ramp up the price, and, in return, I can get a free magazine."

"Done!" Azul exclaimed, magically flying over a contract to you. You have no idea how he managed to write one so fast, because it seemingly materialized out of thin air.

The contract wasn't wordy and there were no terms and conditions. You suppose it makes sense given how simple the agreement is, but it still seemed quite hasty.

Regardless, after reading it over twice - it is Azul after all - you signed, and Azul magically lifted the contract and pen into his hands and swiftly slid them into some drawer.

While you were reading the contract, Jade quietly ducked out before returning with two magazines in hand. He hovered over your shoulder, before flipping one magazine open to reveal one of your swimsuit model pictures and setting it on the table for you to sign.

You signed, although it felt a little weird autographing something, but it was best 'business' proposal you could come up with.

Jade handed you the other magazine and Azul stood up. You still find the height difference between him and Tweels humorous, although Azul was still taller than you, so you didn't have much room to judge.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you, (Y/N), as always." Azul smiled, fumbling with something out of view in his desk drawer. "Have a good night."

"Want a drink Shrimpy?" Floyd inquired, placing an arm on your shoulder, turning you away from Azul.

"I would be more than happy to make something to your liking." Jade agreed, leading me out of the room. "On the house." He quickly added.

"As much as I'd love to, I have a tutoring session with Riddle. He saw my grade on last week's midterm and almost exploded on the spot."

"Aah, I haven't seen Goldfishy in a while." Floyd wondered aloud. "Hey, Shrimpy," He smiled, "Let me come with ya."

"Absolutely not," Jade remarked with a cold smile that did not reach his eyes, "You have a shift to work Floyd." You have always found the difference between their personalities amusing.

Remembering your appointment, you whipped out your phone to look at the time. Oh no. You had five minutes.

"Shit, I got to go, see you guys later!" You waved and ran off, terrified that you might actually witness Riddle explode this time.

"Goodbye, (Y/N)." "See ya, Shrimpy!"

Two sets of mismatched eyes intently followed you out the door.

------

"JADE." Azul practically screeched, slamming his hands on the table. "Do you know how BADLY that could have gone? Are you insane? You're lucky the prefect thought I was trying to resell them!"

"We're lucky." Jade corrected, carefully and meticulously removing pages from a Fleur magazine at a Mostro Lounge table. Azul threw his hands up in frustration.

"Hey, Azul, I never heard you objecting." Floyd rolled his eyes. "And why are you so embarrassed anyway; you're puffing up like a pufferfish."

"Well now, we have to sell the magazines." Azul huffed to himself and sat down besides Jade and the stack of magazines. "So, stop tearing the merchandise!"

"No." Jade snapped angrily. Realizing, Jade quickly collected himself and returned to his typical collected attitude, resuming his carefully removal of magazine pages, "There is a clear solution - we sell the magazines, just without certain pages featuring the prefect."

Azul stared, deadpan at Jade, clearly exasperated. "And just what are you going to do with half a hundred pictures of the prefect?"

"Remind me, who took one of the magazines after I bought them for 'personal use'?" Jade sneered, meeting Azul's stare, causing Azul to blush and begin stuttering excuses.

"I still don't get why we can't just tell Shrimpy." Floyd shrugged, leaning back in his chair, holding up one of the torn-out magazine pages of (Y/N) standing on a beach, hair blowing in the (fake) wind, dressed in a one-piece swimsuit, with a chic cover-up.

"Absolutely not!" Jade and Azul shouted in unison.

Thankfully, the Mostro Lounge was closed, and no one could hear the three mermen squabbling late into the night.

[canthelpit0]

Cry Baby

Pairing: Matt x crybaby!popular!reader

Wordcount : 3.3K+

Summary: you were popular. The jester of the group. But atleast it was something. Nobody knew just how much you’d been struggling, until your secrets were exposed in the school cafeteria.

Warnings: swearing, angst, crying, mentioned of depression, Matt’s PoV, sensitive!reader, mentions of SH, SH mocking, humiliation, exposing secrets, fake friends, hurt/comfort, pet names (baby), use of y/n

(A/N: I wrote this based of this song. Bcs I was listening to it and had this scenario in my head, so I wrote it down.)

You had always been a bit of a crybaby.

You’re the oldest sibling. Your mother thought she couldn’t have any children, but she had. You were a blessing to her.

So after you were born you were never put down. Someone was always with you. To keep you from crying, entertaining you. Caving to your needs.

But once you got to kindergarten, it seemed that all those times your parents hushed you and made sure you didn’t cry had bottled up.

You didn’t speak a lot. You didn’t like socializing with people. You kept to yourself and that’s how you liked it.

You had severe attachment issues to your mom though. Because of her always being with you to soothe you, her not being there seemed like a nightmare.

So when she dropped you off at kindergarden, every day, you would cry, begging your mom to stay.

Eventually you got used to it, but you quickly found a friend to cling to.

Emma, was your one and only friend. The only person you talked to.

It was pretty much the same in elementary school. You’d trod around and talk to people. You were a bubbly social kid.

But you were also easy to break.

You didn’t have a lot of friends. All friends you had were only people you’d hang around in recess.

Emma stuck with you though.

Until, middle school.

In middle school you’d, for some reason, fallen into a depressive mindset.

Emma and you were in your awkward middle school phases. And in that time she’d become really rude.

And one day during a fight she told you how much she hated listening to your sobs.

You’d been vulnerable around her. You had trusted her.

And she’d broken that trust. By telling you that every time you had seeked her comfort she actually didn’t want to give it to you.

Your heart’s too big for your body.

You two stopped talking after that day. Until four months later Emma apologized for her words. You, being an empath, excepted the apology and went back to being friends with her.

Little did she know that her words rang through your head while you cut yourself.

A few months after you became friend again, she moved. She moved out of the country. You never saw her again.

So for high school you had taken it spoon yourself to mask your depression and ‘get over yourself’.

You started to dress more basic, learning to do your make up, hair, skincare. And basically everything to hide your miserable state the best you could.

Somehow it worked.

You had good facial proportions, and just a little bit of work you looked like a basic mean girl who is full of herself. But that was exactly the point.

Somehow, once High school started, you managed to get into the clique of the popular girls.

You were always so upbeat, cheery and talkative. No one could ever guess that you’re the most depressive mother fucker in a 50 mile radius.

Though as much as you would like the power of being the leader of the group, you were not. You were more like the jester of the group than anything.

You had held your mental breakdowns to a minimum. Holding back as much as you could. You only had Few panic attacks nowadays. And if you had one in school, you always had a touch up make up bag there.

Now it was senior year. You got ready like usual, not knowing that today would alter your life and the way people perceive you.

Matt’s PoV

I watch in horror.

Y/n is one of the popular girls in our school.

I’m not too popular. But I’m well known, all due to the fact that I’m a triplet. And due to the fact that Nick and Chris are really extroverted people.

Both of them are currently not with me.

Chris is sick at home. While Nick is in the library with some of our female friends.

I sit at my table with the lacrosse team around Me.

The entire cafeteria has their eyes focused on y/n.

She was arguably the prettiest out of all the popular girls.

But right now she was crying, Biting her lip. Her head tilted forward in shame at the claims her group was throwing at her.

The leader of the popular girls, Kelly, was accusing y/n of stealing her boyfriend at first, yelling right in her face. She yelled right back at Kelly though, not scared to stand up for herself.

But Kelly being the leader of the group, all the other girls sided with her.

I never understood why people would talk, or would argue, about stuff like this in public places. It was humiliating.

I was getting second hand embarrassment just watching.

The insults were getting more and more personal by the second.

Nobody was doing anything, captivated by the scene unfolding in front of them. Some people have their phones out filming for, ..who knows what reason.

I drown out most of the insults-

“IS THAT WHY YOU FUCKING CUT YOURSELF?” Kelly yells right back in y/n’s face.

The cafeteria had already been quiet. But with those words even the quiet conversations stopped. It seemed like everyone’s attention snapped back to the scene.

It was the passerby effect in full force. No one was doing anything, too shocked. Not even the teachers that were present said anything.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

My ear start ringing, my eyes staying glued on y/n.

To me, it was obvious that something about y/n was off. She was polished to perfection. To a concerning degree. Nobody was that perfect.

So the revelation didn’t necessarily shock me. But the fact that Kelly was heartless enough to air y/n’s business out like that.

“I don’t.” Y/n’s words cut harshly through the quiet cafeteria. Her words are insistent like she was telling the truth.

She was a great liar, yet everyone would believe Kelly over her. Even if it was a lie.

“Oh but you do.” Kelly scoffs looking at the people y/n used to call friends. They all nod at Kelly’s statement.

“You have those scars all over your wrists.” Kelly points out nodding down to y/n’s wrists.

It’s like everyone takes a collective look down at her arms to see if something is actually there.

Me being so far away from their table I can’t see it clearly. But I really don’t want to anyway.

I watch as Y/n lets her head fall forward letting out a small laugh, shocking everyone in the cafeteria including me.

Y/n’s hands are trembling and shaking. She purses her lips looking back up at Kelly who looks at her with superiority.

Y/n picks her head back up and leans her head up to readjust her hair. Her hands ball into fists before she crosses her arms, trying to keep her composure.

Even from being a few tables away from the scene i can clearly see the tears running down her cheeks.

She huffs a laugh through a sob.

“Some friends you fucking are” she says harshly her glare focused on the girls around Kelly that she used to call friends.

The cafeteria is silent again for a moment the only thing heard being y/n’s soft sniffles

“Crybaby” one of the girls huffs under her breath, but its loud and clear in the silent cafeteria.

“Fuck you Rebecca.” I hear y/n’s voice snap at the girl. Despite crying her tone was still sharp.

“What’re you gonna do about it, gonna go home and cut yourself some more?” Another one of the girls in the group scoffs.

Y/n lets out another miserable chuckle hearing the comment.

I purse my lips remaining seated. I probably look miserable right now. I don’t want to be watching this. Hell I would like to stop this, but I can’t.

Before y/n can fire back though more and more comments from all the girls pore out. And the more: “you gonna kill yourself?” “you gonna cut yourself?” remarks they make the more humiliated y/n looks.

By the end of their relentless comments and bullying y/n is crying sobbing. And as someone with anxiety I can see the inevitable anxiety attack, in the way her entire body shakes.

With a strong “fuck you all” to her former friends y/n turns in her heels and leaves.

The cafeteria is quiet for a moment before the room breaks out in conversation, everyone gossiping about the scene they just witnessed. Debating how much of what was said was true.

I feel sick to my stomach knowing I had watched a girl just get torn down by her own, so called friends, like that, and didn’t do anything.

I mumble an excuse to my friends leaving the table. They don’t even seem to care emerged in their own conversations about the ‘gossip’.

I speed walk out of the cafeteria to find y/n.

There are only two places I can think of her being at. The girls bathroom, wich is probably not the case since she looked like she wanted to get as far away as possible,

Or her car.

She’d parked next to my van today. So I run out of the school to my car, to see hers still parked next to mine. I glance into it and she’s not in the drivers seat.

I get closer, catching my breath. I look through the window of the backseat seeing her sitting there curled up in on herself.

I knock on the car window catching her attention. Y/n’s beautiful teary eyes meet mine through the tinted glass.

She presses on a button on her car keys, the car unlocking.

Immediately I open the car door and slide in. My gaze soft as I look at the hyperventilating girl in front of me.

I close the door behind me. I gently take the car keys out of her hands. She was clinging to it like her life depended on it. I lock the car again and then lean to the front of the car and toss her keys on the drivers seat.

I turn back to y/n, she had her legs up to her chest hugging them while she continues to sob.

“Matt” she breaths out my name so tenderly.

We weren’t friends. But we shared one class in which we partnered up sometimes.

“Sh, you’re okay y/n” I breathe out. In an instant, my arms wrap around her smaller frame pulling her into me. I hug her from the side, her sobs wracking her body.

“No, no it’s not okay.” She lets out an irritated sigh, her breath hitching as a sobs Tores through her body again. “I just lost all my friends.”

I purse my lips holding her head. I cradle her into my chest. She didn’t deserve to have her stuff aired out like that, but all she was worried about was loosing her fake ass friends?

“Oh baby.” I sigh out. The nickname slips through my lips so effortlessly I didn’t even notice.

I keep her head cradled into my chest while I feel tears start to form in my own eyes.

“They ruined it.” She chokes out again, her voice shaky.

I breathe in heavily. “They ruined what?” I ask gently.

“My reputation”

I pause. My lips quiver at the sound of her cries. I try to blink away my own tears.

“That’s all you care about?” The words leave my lips before they register. I know she cares about all the things others say to her. She just seems like the type to.

“Matt, I spend so much time,” she sobs through the few words she said. Pausing to cry some more at the thought of it. “So, so much time, perfecting myself.”

I hear her pause again, and by this point I can’t hold back my own tears. I let out a soft sob crying with her as I hold her even closer to myself.

“I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s none of their business” her words are soft. But the more she talks the more quiet she gets.

In a way she was like me. Masking her sorrow like that. She always just seemed too perfect to be true.

Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect face. Great humor, nice, kind, popular.

But nobody ever questioned it. She had everyone fooled. She was a great liar. And even though I had my suspicions she never gave me a reason to believe I was right.

I just thought I was delusional for reading into things.

But I was right.

As much as I wish I wasn’t.

“I’m so sorry.” I whisper. I try to breathe hard as to not sob like she was. I wanted to comfort her not cry with her.

She pulls away slightly. I look at her. She still has tears running down her cheeks, not looking like it’d stop soon. She looks up at me through her tear stained lashes, her mascara only slightly smudged.

Her lips quivers as I see another wave of sadness wash over her. “Why are you crying?” She asks her voice shaky. She lets out another choked sob.

Her hands cup my cheeks as we both cry looking at the other. “Please don’t cry,” the sight of my tears only seems to make her more sad.

But seeing the way she looked crying, I only wanted to cry harder.

She still looked perfect. Though her makeup was smudged slightly, her hair messy, her perfect features stained with her tears.

I gently grab her wrists slowly pulling her hands off of my face. I pull up the sleeve of her longs sleeved shirt and flip her arm to look at her wrist.

My gut clenches at the sight of the tiny white healed marks. They were barely noticeable anymore.

I had noticed them before when we had partnered up for some project. But out of respect I didn’t say anything. Besides they weren’t that bad, thin, white stripes messily across her wrist.

For all I knew it could’ve been her cat. I don’t have a cat, and neither have I seen self harm cuts before, so I wouldn’t know the difference.

I purse my lips. I let my head fall forward slightly my eyes closed. I feel sick to my stomach knowing someone as perfect as y/n was, or had been cutting herself at some point.

I hear a choked sob fall from her lips. I feel her intense stare burn through my scalp.

I pick up my head again, my eyes immediately looking to hers. She was crying again. Making me also shed a few tears again.

I bring her wrist up to my face leaving a gentle peck on it.

She watches me. The sight only making her cry more. She closes her eyes briefly.

It wasn’t like she’d expected me out of all people to shame her for her scars. But she also hadn’t expected him to just kiss them.

“You didn’t deserve that sweetheart.” I whisper under my breath. I pull her back in leaving a firm kiss on her forehead before cradling her head back into my chest.

She breaks out into sobs again her arms going under mine and hugging me tightly.

She was clinging to me tightly, her sobs wrecking her body, and also making me cry.

I gently pat down her hair,as she keeps crying, trying to soothe both of us.

“Y/n.” She pulls back slightly, her arm still wrapped around me. “Do you still..” I trail off not wanting to say it. Because if I say it, it’ll be too true.

Her lip quivers as I see her glossy eyes shed tears again. She lets out a gut wrenching sob again pressing her face into my chest again, mumbling “I’m sorry”s over and over again.

I sigh sympathetically, rubbing her scalp. I knew from experience, that after crying so much, your head would hurt so bad. And even though she was still crying I wanted to soothe her.

“Honey.” I say gently pulling her away from me. Our eyes meet briefly before she looks down in shame. I gently grab her cheek again making her look back up at me.

“Where do you cut?” I ask softly. I grimace at the words leaving my lips. I calmed down not crying anymore, but my eyes staying glassy.

Her eyebrows are scrunched together as she slightly pouts. Her eyes were still glassy, threatening to break out in sobs again.

“I don’t do it often..” she whispers under her breath, trying to over herself. Her eyes close briefly shame written all other her face.

“Where.” My tone is still low, but more firm, demanding an answer.

“My thigh.” She lets one of her Chanda fall from around me resting her hand on her very upper right thigh.

My eyes soften even further. My tears had dried in my face by now, but I felt just about ready to cry again.

I shift slightly. Her hand that had still been around me going to the bottom of my shirt and keeping a firm grip on the fabric.

I put my hand on her waist my touch featherlight, not wanting to overstep. “Is this okay?”

She purses her lips. Her eyes stay locked on mine as she tries to read what I’m trying to do. But she ultimately nods.

I put both my hands on her waist and pick her up from next to me putting her on my lap. She lets out a shaky breath her eyes going wide.

“Is this okay?” I enquirer my tone staying low.

Her bottom lip wobbles again. She closes her eyes briefly. “I don’t wanna go anything.” She breaths out her voice small and almost afraid.

My own eyes widen for a second looking back at her. I just realized how bad this looked without context. But I’m not a dick. I want to comfort her, not get in her pants.

I take my hands from her waist putting them on my thighs. Yet she doesn’t make a move off of me. Her hand stayed bunched up on my shirt.

“God, I don’t mean it like that.” I breathe out. “Just, me comforting you would be easier like this?” I says slowly.

Her gaze goes up to meet mine again, her lip quivering holding herself back from crying again.

She leans forward resting her face on my collarbone. She puts her other hand on my chest too as she starts to sob again. my right hand goes to her back rubbing it gently. While my left hand goes to her thigh massaging where her scars presumably were.

Her crying makes me tear up again. So we just cry together. My hand rubbing soothing motions into her back, and my other hand finally going up to cradle her head into me further.

I whisper encouraging words. Until eventually her cries die down, and so do mine.

She pulls back slightly, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. The tip of her nose and her cheeks red. And her lips as puffy as her eyes. She is a pretty crier, but the sight still makes me feel remorseful.

I put my hand back on her right thigh gently rubbing circles on it. My other hand going to cup her cheek. She leans into my touch relaxing more. She looked more tired than anything now.

“You can always talk to me, you know that.” I breath out, finally feeling like the lump in my throat was gone.

Her hand cups my wrist keeping my hand in her face. I start to rub her cheek gently looking at her pretty face.

“You can stay with me, Nick and Chris. Alright?” She nods slightly in answer.

I move my hand from her cheek to her hair rubbing at her scalp slightly. “You want me to take you home pretty girl?” I ask softly.

After all we were still in the school parking lot.

“Please.”

Masterlist

A/N: I actually cried writing this. the first part was actually literally me. and i also used to cry a lot, and cut, so this just made me cry while writing, bcs i relate to it so much. i love you all, stay safe & clean <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh

[222col]

is it casual now? | part 2

★ patrick zweig x reader ★ part two of this - based on the song 'casual' by chappell roan ★ 5.7k ★ 18+ | inc: angst, smut, fluff, f oral, unprotected sex, choking, spitting, breeding, smoking, drinking, drugs ★ an: patrick is a college student & also has a sister for context

your grades had slipped, your drinking had gotten worse, your body count had gone up. your focus and energy stripped away from you in one conversation with patrick zweig. you were smoking out your dorm window, rather than just usually at parties. going through bags of weed alone, rather than at the park with some friends. you faked smiles and acted like your world wasn't shattered the minute patrick left you dorm room all those months ago. your friends hadn't noticed how badly you were struggling, putting on too good of a facade for anyone to dig past. you hadn't seen patrick once since he left, not even at parties or around campus. one of your friends heard he'd dropped out of college, but you didn't know how true that rumour was, although you wouldn't put it past him. he never was too interested in classes, more the parties and the tennis. he'd told you once that college was his parents' idea, not his. but, you still couldn't bring yourself to believe that he may have well and truly left.

patrick was on your mind often, when you'd find an t-shirt of his in your laundry, or someone walking past you was wearing his cologne. you'd blocked his number the morning after he left, knowing you'd probably drunk call him if you didn't delete it. his sister calls you sometimes, asking about college, telling you about school, but she never mentions patrick. neither do you, you don't want him to find out you're asking about him. can't face the embarrassment of him thinking you're still pining over him. you always end her call and immediately roll a joint, needing to numb the pain after remembering patrick's actions.

as another friday rolled around, you began your weekend routine. showering, smoking a cigarette out of the window, towel in your hair. doing your make up at your desk, drinking a few cans of whatever was cheapest before slipping into the smallest skirt and top you could find that was clean in your wardrobe. drying your hair, packing your purse and walking over to whatever fraternity was hosting a party that night. meeting your group of friends, stealing a bottle of liquor from the kitchen and sitting outside in the garden. lighting another cigarette as you all shared the stolen alcohol. "do you always have to show us up?" one of your friends laughs to you, passing the bottle along. you laugh back, rolling your eyes. "i'm not showing anyone up. we're all hot." toking on the cigarette, legs crossed on the plastic chair. all of you gossiping about your weeks, pointing out the cute boys inside and laughing your way through the liquor bottle. stubbing out your cigarette, a blonde boy walks outside. "hey, art." your best friend smiles to her fellow tennis teammate. your breath hitches, half expecting patrick to follow him out, they used to be attached at the hip. but art's alone. "what, no patrick glued to your side?" your friend teases, met with a slap to the arm. "i thought we said no mentioning he who shall not be named." your best friend whispers in her ear.

art laughs at your group, lighting his own cigarette. "no, no patrick. he dropped out a couple months ago, haven't seen much of him since." holding in any form of a reaction to art's words, apart from sipping on the vodka you stole. "hmm, interesting. why'd he drop out?" one of your friends asks, as your best friend slips her hand into yours. "not really sure, he just said he couldn't be here anymore, said it was too hard for him." art replies, pulling up a seat with you all. "the classes?" someone asks him. art shakes his head. "i don't think so, i think something must have happened that he just couldn't get over." standing up abruptly, you march inside the house, locking the door to the bathroom behind you. gritting your teeth, head leaning back against the door, holding back your tears. trying to persuade yourself that it couldn't have had anything to do with you. refusing to let your mind wonder, slipping down the door, sitting on the cold floor. did patrick actually feel bad? could he possibly have left college because the sight of you was too hard for him to get over? your mind racing, trying to ignore all the feelings rushing to your brain. you pull yourself out of it when you hear someone saying your name and knocking on the door.

you see the blonde locks before you realise it's art, opening the door fully and letting him join you in the bathroom. "hey, are you okay?" he asks, as you sit down on the side of the bathtub, art joining you. "yeah, sorry, i'm fine." art tilts his head, looking for the real answer. "is this about patrick? i know you guys used to hook up." you can't hold back the scoff, patrick really did never describe your time together as anything more than a hook up. fiddling with your hands, so anxious to be talking about patrick for the first time in over six months. "you know patrick told me he loved me once, while we were hooking up." you start, eyes glued to the floor. "in the bathroom of a restaurant, while his parents were still at the table." you half laugh, as art breathes out. "then when i asked him about it, after he'd kissed some girl at a party i took him to, he just told me he didn't mean it, and that i was nothing more than a fuck buddy to him." art immediately starts to apologise, genuinely disturbed by his friend's actions. "he left me crying on my bed that night, and i never saw him again." nodding your head as you look art in the eyes. he sighs, stroking your back as he apologises again. "so that's why he left." art breathes out. you shake your head in response. "i meant nothing to him, he wouldn't have left because of me." art's hand stays on your back. "patrick gets scared when real emotions come into play, he runs from them. this time he must have just physically ran away from them." tears well up in your eyes, holding your head back, trying to stop them from falling. "i can't think about that, art. he's gone, he's obviously not coming back. i need to try and move on." you respond, standing up and readying yourself to rejoin the party. "thanks, for coming to check on me, and for listening." art smiles sweetly to you, standing up to follow you out of the bathroom. "anytime." closing the door behind you two as he leans down to give you a friendly hug, before you rejoin your girls outside. distracting yourself with more drinks as you attempt to glaze over what just happened, letting your friends lead the conversations and join in the drinking games occasionally. heading home when the sun starts to come up, stumbling into your room, passing out on top of the blankets.

art wakes up the next morning with one thing on his mind, patrick. specifically how patrick treated you, and why he's been hiding everything from him. brushing his teeth before calling his best friend. "a-art? why are you calling so early, are you okay?" patrick's groggy morning voice answers the phone. "patrick it's literally 11am." art replies, pacing around his room, phone to his ear. "whatever, what's up?" patrick mumbles. "why didn't you tell me what actually went down when you left?" art questions, blunt as ever. "what do you mean? i told you, it got too much." art sighs in response. "yeah, but you never said what got too much." it's patrick sighing now, he'd managed to avoid this conversation for all this time. "it was because of her, hasn't it?" art almost whispers into the phone, patrick silent, art speaks your name through the phone. "you left because of what happened between you, didn't you?" patrick still silent, knowing he had to face the music. "yeah," he whispers, voice low. "i couldn't do it anymore, it was killing me to see her around." art hums down the phone, listening to patrick's confession. "how'd you realise?" patrick questions. art explains the conversation you had with him at the party last night, telling patrick how hurt you looked, how upset it made him to see you like that. "she's not doing good, pat. you really fucked up." art tells him off, still walking circles around his room. "trust me, i know." patrick admits to his friend as art asks him, "do you regret it?"

"very much so." patrick replies, without missing a beat. his voice softening with his reply. "apologise and get her back then?" art words phrased as more of an instruction than a question, hearing patrick breathe out heavily. "it's not that easy, art." art slumps onto his bed, aggravated with his friend. "patrick, if you miss her, get her back. she clearly misses you." his words sharp, letting patrick understand the situation. "she was never mine to begin with." patrick chokes on his words, art's never heard him like this. "yeah, and who's fault was that? just don't make the same mistake again, you clearly really like her." art argues back through the phone. "i love her, art." patrick finally admits, his voice soft and quiet, softer than art had ever heard him. "i know you do buddy, that's why you gotta come home and get your girl back." art finally matching patrick's tone. "what if she doesn't want me anymore, art? i fucked up so bad, and hurt her so much. i couldn't cope if she didn't want me." art can hear patrick's quiet sobs as he cries out the words. "look, i'm pretty sure she's not gonna do that, but if she does, i'm always here, okay? i wish you'd have just talked to me in the first place." patrick sighs through the phone before responding. "i know, okay, i'm gonna pack a bag and jump in the car now." patrick says through sniffles. "i'm gonna need your help with this, art."

waking up, head banging, yesterday's make up still on, your room a mess. typical weekend routine continuing. rubbing your eyes, sitting up in bed, checking your texts through squinted eyes.

hey, do you wanna come watch tennis with me today? ur best friend's crush is playing lol if u wanna bring her along. we're all hitting up the dive bar off campus after

you read the text from art, you couldn't think of anything worse than sitting in the sun on the bleachers watching tennis right now, but you know how much your best friend liked this guy on the tennis team. you also know how shy she is about it, despite everyone knowing about her crush. so you of course, as a good friend, accept the invitation.

yeah sure, what time? :)

art tells you the match starts in a couple hours. downing a bottle of water before calling your friend to tell her the plans then jumping in the shower. putting on some make up, jeans and a tank top, placing your sunglasses over your eyes and heading off to meet art and your best friend. a couple girls from your group sit together on the bleachers, as well as the other tennis players that art knows. "you not playing today, art?" you ask him. "nah, my match is tomorrow." nodding your head as your friend starts blushing at the sight of her crush on the court. the game lasts a little while, your friend's crush ended up losing. your hangover finally disappearing as you all head over to the bar. cramming around a couple tables, the big group of you all share drinks and laughs, discussing tennis and college antics.

"where's my blondie?" that oh too familiar voice comes through the door. your body sinking, looking to your best friend for comfort. your back to the door, hoping, praying that it's not him. art's sat two chairs away from you, smile spreading across his face as he turns on his chair. "tell me it's not him." you mumble, grasping your friends hand. her gaze soft, just nodding her head at you. art's engulfed in a hug, those brunette curls are unmistakable. "oh have i missed that face." patrick's words echo around the bar, everyone laughing at the reunion, still facing away from the two of them. as though if you don't look at him, you don't have to accept that he's actually here. he and art walk over to the bar, catching up and ordering drinks. "i need to leave, i can't be here with him." you start standing up, being pulled back down to your seat. "no, you can't give him the satisfaction. you're staying." your knee bouncing up and down as your favourite drink is placed in front of you with a napkin. you don't have to look up to know patrick placed it there, as he and art sit back down on the table. you sigh, pulling the napkin under the table to read the note.

i would have just text you, but you blocked my number. meet me at the park at 10pm?

scrunching up the napkin, you place it in one of the empty glasses on the table. looking over to patrick finally as you do. his eyes locking on yours, mouthing 'please' to you across the table. you roll your eyes and turn back to your friend, telling her what the note said. "you're not going." she instructs you as you sip on the drink patrick bought you. "i know i'm not." you say, eyes drifting back over to patrick who's deep in conversation with all the boys who play tennis. "would you kill me if i did?" you breath out. "yes. yes i would." she laughs, your head falling on to her shoulder. "you're gonna go, aren't you?" her tone is soft, you can feel her shaking her head. "yeah, i am." she simply pats your head. "you're a lost cause." she laughs, the two of you reentering the groups conversation. all the boys at the table gushing over patrick, leaning on his every word, all of your friends are weary of him, subtly giving him dirty looks, smiling at you whenever they do. patrick commands the room, his charm working on everyone at the table, as it always has.

everyone finishes up their drinks around 9pm and heads home, your best friend following you back to your dorm. brushing your hair and reapplying your make up, picking up a hoodie from the floor and slipping it over your head. "just be careful, okay? don't believe everything he says, i'll wait here for you until you get back." your best friend tells you, hugging you before you leave. "and whatever you do, don't fuck him!" she shouts as you close your door behind you. your heart is in your stomach as you walk towards the park on the edge of campus, the path lit by streetlights in what would otherwise be complete darkness. hands in the pocket on your hoodie as you see the park in sight. and there he is. leaning on the wall by the entrance, a toothy grin plastered on his face as he sees you approach. smiling slightly at him as you stand before him. "i'm so glad you came." patrick says sweetly. "why did you ask me here?" you ask, following him as he leads you to a bench in the corner of the park. "this is where we first kissed, did you know that?" he says, the two of you sitting down, his arm resting on the back of the bench behind your head. "mmm, didn't realise." you lie, of course you know that. you've spent hours on this bench in the time he's been away, journalling, listening to music and only sometimes crying.

"we walked here after the party i met you at, we sat here on this bench and talked for hours, before i finally got the courage to kiss you." you scoff at his words, lifting your legs up onto the bench to sit cross legged. "you didn't need courage patrick, i've watched you kiss a girl after two seconds of meeting her." his fingers are inches away from the back of your neck, desperate to touch you. "that's different, you were different." you're shaking your head now, hands reentering your pockets. "i liked talking to you, i hadn't felt like that with someone i wanted to kiss before." he brings his leg up onto the bench, directing his body to you. "oh wow, you were actually interested in what i had to say, that's so kind of you." patrick says your name. "please, this isn't what i asked you here to talk about." his hand fiddling with the hem of his jeans. "well what did you want to talk about, patrick? because i don't have much to say to you." you return, your body shifting to the same position he's sat. finally looking at him, a smile spreading on his cheeks as you do.

it slowly fades as he begins talking. "art told me what happened at the party last night, he called me this morning cussing me out for how i treated you. telling me he knew why i ran away now." your head dips, looking down to your lap. "and he's right, i treated you awfully. you didn't deserve it, i was a piece of shit." he laughs, lifting up your chin to look you in the eyes. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry. it was one of the worst things i've ever done, leaving you like that." his hand stays on your face, stroking your cheek. "and it is why i left, i was scared. because i did mean it, what i told you in that bathroom." your lip quivers at his words, desperately trying to not fall for his games. shaking your head and moving from his hand. "you're just saying that to get what you want." you tell him, eyes welling up. "i'm not, i promise you. i'm telling you because it's true, i was scared and stupid and thought i didn't deserve you." his eyes honest, his leg bouncing, hands fidgeting. "i tried to stick it out, but every time i saw you around and at parties, i couldn't handle it. i couldn't deal with how i felt, and how i let you slip through my fingers." quiet tears from your eyes, his hand moving to wipe them away. "so i left," patrick continues. "i went back home and tried to ignore how i was feeling, but when art called me this morning, i realised it didn't work. because," patrick takes a deep breathe. "i love you."

more tears fall down your cheeks, gulping before you think about speaking. "you hurt me so much, patrick. hearing what you told your friends about me, having you tell me to my face how casual it was after you told me you loved me during a weekend meeting your parents." his fingers tangle between yours, too hurt to move them away from his. "i thought i was the stupid one, for believing you could think of me in anyway that wasn't just some girl you fuck." his eyes welling up now too, listening to you intently. "and i'm still being the stupid one, coming here and meeting you the second you come back, because i missed you so much and i love you." you barely recognise that you're saying the words until it's too late. your lip between your teeth, watching the tears fall down patrick's face. "you do?" he smiles through the tears, laughing as you gently hit him on the arm. "of course i do, you idiot."

his fingers grasp hold of yours tighter now, wiping his tears on his sleeve. "i can't believe you've got me here crying, confessing my love to you." he laughs through his sniffles. "i know, what's happened to the patrick zweig that didn't care about anything apart from tennis and art donaldson?" you laugh, wiping your own tears from your cheeks. "shut up." he laughs at your words. "i know i've got a long way to go to get you to trust me, but i really care for you, and i really wanna give this a go." patrick says, his hands still fidgeting with yours. "my best friend is going to kill me." you laugh back at him, hand caressing his cheek as he leans into your touch. leaning towards you, meeting him half way as his soft lips crash into yours. pulling your body towards him as your lips move in unison. "you look really hot in my hoodie, by the way, cute that you kept it." he whispers against your lips, snapping your head down to the jumper on your body. realising 'stanford tennis' is printed on the centre, bursting out laughing. "oh my god, i didn't even realise, i just picked a hoodie off the floor before i left." hiding your face in his neck as he pulls you into his arms, holding you there for a short while. breathing in your scent, hands balled around the fabric of your hoodie, not wanting to let you go.

your name leaves his lips as he gradually releases you from his grasp. "i really am so sorry, you know? i'll never get over how much of an asshole i was." you smile to him, moving onto his lap, arms snaking around his neck. "i know, it's a good job you're so charming, otherwise there'd be no coming back." you laugh to him, patrick laughing softly in response. "can you actually admit that you remember this bench, now you're not as angry with me now?" he jokes, tickling your sides. "patrick, we literally had sex on this bench that night, how could i forget?" the two of you laugh into each others bodies. "god, you're actually my dream girl." patrick utters, blush creeping onto your cheeks, leaning down to kiss his lips. "shall we go home?" you ask him, standing up from his lap, holding out your hand for him. smiling sweetly as he laces his fingers through yours, following you back to your dorm. unlocking your door as patrick stops you before you push it open. "i just wanna say, i promise to never make you feel the way you did last time i was in this room, ever again, okay?" he tells you, hands holding yours, pressing small kisses to your knuckles. nodding your head softly at him as you enter your room.

"oh, i am going to seriously kill you!" your best friend laughs out, completely forgetting she had offered to wait at your dorm for you while you went to meet patrick. jumping up off your bed, she laughs and shakes her head at you, patrick attempting to hide behind your smaller frame. "i know, i know. but-" you start, cut off by her words. "and you, patrick zweig!" his hands up in defence, smirking at her words. "don't get me started on the torturous acts i will do to you if you hurt her again." your best friend continues, half laughing, half serious as she makes her way to your door. "i'm sorry, he just-" you try again to explain yourself, her cutting you off again. "i trust you, whatever makes you happy, girly. call me tomorrow and tell me everything!" she tells you, closing the door behind her.

sliding your shoes off your feet, patrick follows suit. the two of you discarding your hoodies to the floor, patrick sitting down on the bed, pulling you on top of him. laughing as you fall onto his body, knees either side of his thighs. his hands caressing the bare skin on your arms, placing soft kisses to your neck. "i've missed you so much, missed your skin, your smell, your lips." he mumbles, before placing his lips onto yours. grinding against him softly, arms snaking around his neck, tongue slipping into his mouth. soft breathing and quiet moans slipping through the kiss, the denim of both of your jeans grinding against each other. "are you already hard?" you giggle into his mouth, feeling his boner underneath you. "shut up, it's been a while." he smirks, slipping your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently. "you're seriously telling me you haven't slept with anyone else in all this time?" you ask, hands slipping under his t-shirt, stroking the skin on his back. your lips wrapped around his earlobe, flicking your tongue over the skin, small groans falling from patrick's lips. "couldn't do it, couldn't even think about it. just wanted you." he speaks, eyes closed, distracted by your mouth on his jaw. his hands on your hips, grabbing the skin, guiding your movements against him. "god, where's the player gone?" you tease, sucking on the skin of his neck. "i'm a changed man." he smirks, lifting you up, throwing your body down onto the bed, giggling as you land.

pulling his t-shirt over his head, smiling down at you as he climbs on top of you. lips against yours, only pulling apart as patrick pulls your tank over your head. smirking as he notices your lack of bra, his big hands grasping and groping your exposed chest. lips continue attacking each others, reaching between you to undo the top button of his jeans, pulling down the zipper. using your feet to push the jeans down his body. patrick does the rest of the work for you, pushing them down his legs with his boxers, throwing them across the room as you remove your own jeans. patrick's mouth kissing down your stomach, pulling down your underwear with his teeth. heavy breathing filling the room, tension growing, along with your wetness. kicking your panties off your feet as patrick spreads your legs apart, kissing down your thighs, stomach against the bed as his curls disappear between your legs. your back arched, head flung back as patrick's lips leave kisses on your sweet spot. mewling at the feeling, grasping his hair as his tongue flicks back and forth over you. "fuck- i've missed the taste of you." patrick moans against you, causing more profanities to escape you. licking one last line through your folds as patrick kisses his way back up your body to your lips.

teasing you as his cock rubs against you, pushing himself in an inch before rubbing his tip against your clit once more. "jesus, patrick, please fuck me." you beg him, chest rising and falling. "well, seen as in you asked so nicely." he smirks, pushing in, bottoming out. loud moans leave the both of you, patrick grabbing the back of your thighs, pushing your legs against your body. his knees either side of your ass, fucking in and out of you at speed. sloppy kisses against your feet and ankles as sweat slicks his curls to his forehead. sheets balled in your hands, brows furrowed as patrick's name repeatedly falls out from your lips. dropping your legs down as patrick's body weight falls on you, his hands squeezing your waist, pulling you onto him as he pushes himself into you. wet kisses muffle the moans coming from the both of you, tongues gliding against each others. one of his hands moving around your throat, causing your eyes to roll back, signature smirk forming on his lips. "so pretty like this, baby." he utters, moving his free hand down to thumb your clit. "fuck- missed you so much." you confess in your fucked-out state, words coarse due to patrick's hand around your neck. "christ, missed you too princess, missed this pretty pussy too." mouth wide open as patrick's pace increases, eyes not leaving each others, a glob of patrick's spit landing on your tongue. the noise from you has patrick shivering, groaning as he watches you smirk and swallow. "fucking hell, you're perfect. christ, i love you." patrick moans, hand slipping off your throat, clawing at the fabric next to your head.

"i love you- fuck i'm close." you whimper, scratching lines down his spine. "me too baby, shit, fuck-" his hips slap against you a few more times, thumb still rubbing circles on your sweet spot as patrick's thrusts stop, his cum filling you up, painting your walls as your orgasm washes over you. both mumbling each others' names, riding out your high before patrick's body falls onto yours, sliding out of you. your bodies awash with each others' sweat and spit and cum, breathing together as one. patrick falls off to the side, turning to face each other on the bed. giggling at each other, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek as you pull his body closer to yours by his waist. smiles not leaving your faces. "i love you, you're so perfect." patrick mumbles, breathing starting to calm. kissing the tip of his nose as you reply. "i love you too."

patrick spends the week at your dorm, spending every minute he can with you. only darting off to see art during your classes, but making sure he's there to pick you up and walk you home when you finish. going on dinner dates, helping you study, bringing you to tennis with him and art. he hates being away from you, fingers always laced through yours when you're out and about. this week of domestic patrick shows you how far he'd go to get you to trust him, wanting to prove to you that you really do mean everything to him. slowly, but surely, the trust was coming back. meeting art for lunch after your day of classes, the three of you sit and laugh your way through your food. "are you guys coming to the party tonight?" art asks, mouth full of food. it's the one thing you've been scared about. patrick and you had been enjoying your time in your bubble, no real outside influences penetrating. a party with patrick filled you with so much anxiety, knowing how the last one went down. "oh yeah, sure, we'll be there." patrick answers for you, his hand on your thigh.

anxiously getting ready, patrick playing music as you pregame your way through your make up. slipping into a tiny dress, putting your shoes on your feet, asking patrick to put your necklace on for you. looking at you through the mirror as he does, placing kisses on your neck after putting on your necklace. "are you trying to kill me?" he chuckles, zipping up the fly of his jeans. "what do you mean?" you laugh back, packing your bag with your things. "you look so so good, baby." he smiles, pulling you to his lips. "let's go, princess." patrick instructs, lightly smacking your ass on the way out. patrick's engulfed in commotion as the two of you enter the party, by those who hadn't seen him back on campus, his hand never letting go of yours. "i'm gonna go find my girls, i'll find you soon, okay?" you tell him, kissing his cheek as he nods to you, being pulled into the kitchen by the boys. finding your friends hanging around on couches, whistling and complimenting you as you join them. "patrick's still here then, hey?" one of your friends tease you, smirking as you steal her bottle of tequila. gulping some down as the questions come flooding in. is he staying at art's? are you two fully back on then? is it official now? is he re-enrolling?

"oh my god girls, is this twenty questions?" you laugh, swigging down anther gulp. all their heads tilted, waiting for the answers. "patrick's been staying with me, we're doing well but not official no, and he doesn't know yet." you finally breathe out, passing back the liquor. multiple oohs and awws leave your friends mouths, before the tennis boys all join you. squeezing onto couches and piling on the floor as more partygoers join you. "truth or dare!" someone shouts out, everyone nodding in agreement. the big group of you go round playing the game, crushes being revealed, shots being taken, all drinking as you go. "patrick zweig, truth or dare?" one of the boys you've not seen before asks him. "dare, obviously." patrick laughs, sipping on his beer across the room from you. "i dare you... to make out with lucy." the group erupts, reactions mixed. gulping down the frog in your throat, chewing the inside of your cheek. "no." patrick states, shaking his head. "no offence obviously, but i've got a girlfriend." patrick smiles smugly at you, feeling the flush on your cheeks, sipping on your own drink. everyone whispering at patrick's words, as your best friend speaks out. "oh, do you?" she laughs, her head leaning against your knee as she sits on the floor next to you on the couch. "yeah, do you, patrick?" you ask, smirking at him. "you know i do." he laughs across the room, winking at you.

the crowd gradually disperses, patrick nodding you over to him, the two of you heading outside for a smoke. "girlfriend, huh?" you ask, as he lights both your cigarettes. patrick smirks, pulling you into his side. "well, you are, aren't you?" he says, kissing the top of your head. "news to me." you tease him, smirking through your cigarette. patrick says your name, head tilted. "well, you never asked." your eyes looking away, smug as you toke the cigarette. "will you please be my girlfriend?" patrick smiles, pushing your body against his. "hmm, i guess it would be a bit embarrassing if i said no, everyone in there already thinks i am." you continue to tease him. "please be my girlfriend." patrick repeats, laughing through his words. "of course i will." you finally give in, his lips latching on to yours. "i can't believe you did that." you laugh into his neck. patrick just shrugs in response. "i told you, i don't wanna hide how i feel anymore, i'm a taken man!" patrick chuckles. the two of you finish smoking, heading back into the party. patrick pulling you onto the floor where everyone has started dancing, his arms around you, hands resting on your ass as the two of you dance with each other. "hottest girl in the world." he mumbles into your ear, placing kisses below your earlobe. "hottest boyfriend in the world." you mutter back to him. "don't think i'll ever get over hearing you call me that." he states, smirking down at you before kissing your cheek. "i love you."

[cherriegyuu]

red | csc

pairing: seungcheol x f!readergenre: smutword count: 1.6kwarnings: minors do not interact, kissing, a little bit of dirty talking, swearing, oral (male), masturbation (female), unprotected sex (please wrap it up kids), sort ot public sex, car sexa/n: not entirely sure how this one happened but here we are i guess. this was not how the story was supposed to go, i had different plans and maybe i'll write them later. if you filled the form to be tagged in my fics but was not tagged for this one, it means that you are either a minor or i didn't find your age anywhere in your blog.

this is part of my series, seventeen as songs from red (ts)

Seungcheol ➝ Red Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly↳ the sight of seungcheol driving had always been your favorite but when both of you were trying to escape while being chased down by the police, you couldn't help but make things a little more… interesting

“Baby, no, you can’t be serious” Seungcheol complained, his voice a weird mixture of moan and groan as he looked between the road and your hand that was dangerously close to the waist of his jeans. 

He looked at you again, but your eyes were focused on the rear windscreen, a small smile playing on your lips as the cops struggled to follow along. Clearly, the police academy should provide driving lessons, because there was no way those men were actually that bad at driving. 

“It’s going to be fun” you whispered against his skin. 

You pressed your lips over his jawline, right where it connected with his ear, going down his neck, lightly biting into his skin. Your kisses trailed down his neck until his collarbone, where you pressed them over his sweet spot, sucking his skin hard enough to leave a mark. 

You enjoyed knowing that his skin was marked by you.  It was only fair that he too carried marks after leaving a few of them himself all over your body. It had been hard to explain to your sister, ever so naive, how you had gotten those bruises. She saw you as sincere enough, pure enough, to believe that some of it had been due to your clumsy nature. Good thing she never saw the ones right above your panties and the two on your inner thighs. 

“We're going to get caught” 

Seungcheol had always been the first one to throw any sort of caution out the window and he was never one to tell you no. If you wanted something, it was yours. If he didn't have what you wanted, he was sure to get it for you. So when you undid the button of his jeans and slid your hand in, pushing his underwear and pants down just enough to set his semi-hard cock free, Seungcheol didn't complain. 

His words of caution had been a lot more for you than for him. You had been his quiet and shy girl, who sometimes got scared when the cars were too loud. He wasn't certain when that new version of you had come out, but he knew he liked it a lot.

Truth be told, it wasn't really a new version of you, but a you that was only his to see and know about.

“Do you really want Kyle back there to see me choke on your dick?” you pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth “Imagine the view he's going to get… my ass in this tiny skirt in the air, you dick in my mouth, my eyes filled with tears because you're too big to fit into my mouth but I want to take you all way”

God, he loved it when your mouth got a little dirty. 

Seungcheol grabbed your hair, pushing your head down into his cock. You smiled, finally happy that he had given it. You loved that he was willing to pull back but also loved that he didn't hesitate to say yes to you sucking him off.

You licked him, from the base to tip. Your hand pumped him once, twice, three times. A fourth one just for good measure, to be certain that he was almost fully hard before you took him into your mouth.

The moan that left Seungcheol's lips caused a wave of tingles to dance through your body, all the way to your core and you couldn’t help but moan too. 

The sounds he made while you sucked him had always turned you on. So to have him driving — probably your favorite thing about him — and moaning for you, while his hand was tangled in your hair, forcing your head down until his dick touched the back of your throat turned you on in ways that you didn't think were possible.

You had never been one for public sex. Not just public, but anywhere near someone else, or where someone else could hear the faintest sound. But with Seungcheol all of your inhibitions had been left behind and he was all that you could see and feel and want.

He went from the hot driver who helped you escape an illegal race, to the hot driver/boyfriend you were sucking off while being chased down by the cops. 

“Balls too” you managed to pull back long enough to say.

You pushed Seuncheol's jeans a little further down, glad he was willing to help by raising him hips just enough. Once all of him was out for you, you leaned over him again. Your hand was on his cock while your mouth was busy a little more down.

He let out a grunt when you grazed him with your teeth, moaning again when you took him again. His hand was back in your hair, maybe it had never even left, guiding you up and down, at the pace he liked the most. As if you didn't know it already, as if you hadn't memorized it.

“I love your mouth, so much,” he said, holding your head down “You take me so well, baby” 

Tears started to form in the corner of your eyes, spit Dripping out and coating all of him. You snaked your free hand into your soaked panties, needing some sort of pressure too. You moaned when the tip of your middle finger grazed your clit, the tiniest bit of stimulation enough to make your head almost spin.

“Are you touching yourself, baby?” whichever incoherent sound left your mouth was enough of confirmation to Seungcheol “I bet you're pulsing around nothing, begging to be filled.  Ready for me”

You moaned again, rubbing your clit a little more desperately than before. If you were going to get Seungcheol to his release, it was only fair that you got some sort of your own too.

Seungcheol looked at the rearview mirror for a second, when he reached the exit he was looking for, opting to get away from the main road. Those cops weren't aware of the alternative road, so you were almost out of any danger — if such a thing had even existed, for a moment at least.

He pulled you up, his hand on your jaw. He loved to turn you into a mess, with tear-stained cheeks and spit all over you. Your hand never left your pussy when he pulled you to him. He kissed you for a second, doing his best to keep the car moving, still on the road.

“Come ride me” he whispered against your lips.

Your eyes gleamed and you moved, pulling your skirt up and shoving your panties to the side. Seungcheol pushed his seat back, as far as he could go, to make room for you.

The position was a little awkward but it didn't matter as you angled his tip with your entrance, slowly coming down on him.

A long moan left your lips, until he was all the way inside you. You loved the burning sensation he always gave you, almost as if he was too much, like he wasn't going to fit in you. But he always did.

“How are you even tighter?” he moaned, his mind going blank for a second at the overwhelming feeling of taking you in public, of you riding him, of how your pussy sucked him in in desperation, of taking you bare.

Slowly, like torture, to started to move up and down, as much as you could. You moved your hips up, until he almost completely out and then let yourself fall into him. 

“Cheol” you begged, for what it was uncertain.

You wanted, needed, all of him, all over you.

“Take it, baby, it's yours”

Your moves became frantic, a mixture of bouncing on him, while grinding on him, searching for as much friction as you possibly could. 

Seuncheol moved your hand from his neck to your pussy, pressing your own fingers to open yourself up even further, giving you more room for friction.

“Cheol…” you moaned again, your voice louder as you moved over him “You're so so deep like this”

He no longer could take it. He pulled the car to the side of the road. The police had long been left behind and he had gotten to the point of not caring anymore. You were over him, almost on breaking point. He cared about getting you off, about seeing your eyes roll as your orgasm took over. 

“I got you, baby,” he said while kissing you “I've got you”

Seungcheol held your hips and started to pound into you at a relentless pace. He wanted to chase his high while giving you yours.

You moaned into his shoulder when he pressed a hand to your groin at the same time you started to rub your clit again, matching his pace.

“Cum with me, baby”

His words sent your body into a frenzy, your orgasm taking over as your entire body shook. Seungcheol swallowed all of your incoherent moans and words, his high following yours. He only stopped moving when all that was left was the small spams on your legs.

You leaned your head back when Seunchheol tugged at your hair. He loved that expression on you, when you were completely fucked out and pleased. He liked knowing that he had made it happen.

“Hi” he whispered

You laughed a little, your eyes still closed.

“So sex while the cops chase us turns you on, huh?” he said kissing your neck, enjoying the small goosebumps erupting on your skin “Fully noted”

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[mydear-corinthian]

love potion no. 9

sypnosis - attempting to make doctor jonathan crane be in love with you using your love potion

pairing - jonathan crane x reader (pharmacist!)

warnings - SMUT +18, p in v, fingering, creampie, jealousy, reader attempting to poison crane

notes - rushed & based of my fav song, divider by cafekitsune

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

You've been working as the hospital's pharmacist for a while now. The experience was a fifty-fifty. How strange to work under the walls where high-profile criminals are admitted in the city of Gotham.

One day, while you were working on your regular evening shift, a tall man wearing rectangular glasses and a black suit let out a small cough as he approached the window of the pharmacy's counter. Setting your pen down, you looked at this man. Your gaze met his blue eyes. You noticed how his hair was neatly styled.

There was a moment of silence before you brushed up your thoughts. "Can I help you with anything, sir?"

"I'm here to get the prescription I need."

"And what's your name, sir?"

"Doctor Jonathan Crane."

Your eyes widened, and the pen in your fingers dropped as you heard the name.

That's Jonathan fucking Crane?

He looked younger than you expected to be. You thought that the head psychologist was old so he's the only psychologist in the asylum allowed to prescribe medication.

"I— Please give me a few seconds to find it, Doctor Crane," you stuttered, immediately standing up and wengoing the back of the cashier to where all the anti-depressants and anti-psychotic medicines were stored.

"Hurry up. I don't have enough time to wait," he replied, rolling his eyes out of irritation.

After a few minutes, you finally saw a brown paper bag with his name on it. You immediately grabbed it and then stapled it to ensure that the medicines were safely secured. You walked up to the desk, placing the paper box on top of it in front of Jonathan.

"Thank you," he said, looking at the metallic nameplate on your uniform. "Miss (L/n)."

After that first interaction, he has been meeting you up again in the pharmacy. Taking his usual prescription medicines. After a few more visits, he started to make a few more chats rather than greetings. Asking you how you were, when's your schedule, etc.,

During those visits, you cannot help but feel something. The way you blush every time he compliments you. The way his delicate fingers meet yours when you give him the medicines. Or the way how he just looks fucking good.

One day, you waited for Jonathan to grab his prescription, so you waited. It's been a few hours and no Doctor Crane appeared. Taking a deep sigh, you continued to do your inventory as you waited for him to come.

After a few hours of waiting, a woman knocks on the glass of the pharmacy's counter. You greeted, letting out a soft smile despite being sad for not seeing the psychologist yet.

"May I help you, ma'am?" you asked.

"I'm here to get Doctor Crane's prescription."

Your ears perked up as you heard his name. Your back stiffens as your eyes widen. Why is she here? Why isn't Jonathan here?

"I'm sorry, ma'am; who are you?" you asked in confusion. "I'm sure Doctor Crane doesn't want his prescription medicines to be taken."

The women laughed at your question and your eyebrows met together.

"Oh, I'm his assistant, silly. Maybe his soon-to-be girlfriend? Not sure yet."

What?

Your stomach churned. A mix of sadness and anger rolled up your mind. You didn't know that Jonathan was interested in anyone. You thought that you would have a chance with him. You felt ill.

You stormed out right away, grabbing the papaer box with his name on it. Putting it in front of her harshly.

Forcing on a smile, you said, "Here's the prescription, ma'am."

"Thank you." the woman replied, grabbing the paper box before walking away.

Jealousy is buried all over your body. Bur you cannot help but feel insecure. She was indeed pretty. For sure Jonathan likes her too.

But you also felt mostly anger and jealousy.

As soon as your shift ended, you hurriedly grabbed your bag and went straight to your small apartment. Turning the doorknob, you entered your apartment and removed your shoe. Grabbing a pen and paper from your cabinet, you wrote different formulas for making something for him.

A love potion.

It does sound silly but you were so obsessed with him and you want him that badly. You felt like he was yours and you were his.

The remaining days stayed the same. The same woman grabbed Jonathan's medicines. The same anger and jealousy never left you. You continued in your potion, grabbing all the hallucinogens that you needed from the rmaprimacyou will spend your night making it.

After a week, you finally finished creating the spray. You choose to make the smell the same as your perfume; to let him know that he is yours.

Arriving at the Asylum, you set your bag behind your chair as you start to do your work. There were a lot of customers that day so you kept yourself occupied.

Finally, his assistant arrived.

She approached the glass with the same cheeky smile. "Jonathan's prescription, please."

Fuck, are they in the first-name business now?

Straightening your back, you said, "I think I'll give it to Doctor Crane myself."

The assistant's head turned to your direction with a face in disbelief. She placed her phone down.

"Why?" she asked.

"Doctor Crane requested a new medicine and it contains rare chemicals and it needs to be taken care of properly. This is the last medicine in our inventory so I suggest I'll be the one to give it to him." you lied.

"Fine. I don't care with whatever medicine he wants anyway. Your pharmacists can take catfish that. I'll just go take a quick dinner break, anyways." she replied, rolling her eyes before she walked away while busy typing on her phone.

As she walked away, you let out a sigh of relief. You grabbed the paper box at the back and then the spray you placed on a small glass sprayer in your bag, hiding it in your pocket.

"Hey, Adeline, I'll just give this medicine to Doctor Crane; he requested it," you said, showing him the paper box with his name.

"Yeah sure, no problem. I'll cover the cashier for you." your friend replied.

Letting out a 'thank you', you exited the pharmacy. You didn't know where his clinic was so you tried finding his name on the big board on the entrance of the hospital that was filled with all the doctors and their clinic rooms in the Asylum. You got up the elevator and pressed the buttons. You're confident with this. You checked the formula all over again and gave you the same result but you cannot help but feel how your heartbeat thumped aggressively.

It will work.

You went out as soon as the elevator doors opened. The whole floor was quiet and there were only a few people there, mainly janitors cleaning up. You walked while looking at the small paper in your hand where you wrote his room number.

You stopped your tracks as soon as you saw his name on a sign on a black door.

Dr. Jonathan Crane, M.D, Psy.D, J. Crim. Psychol.

Letting out a deep breath, your fingers opened the door. The entrance was small. A long cushion was on the right while the assistant/secretary's table was on the left— which was empty. There was another door in front of you, which you think is his office.

You knocked three times on the door, fixing your uniform and your hair. You gripped your pocket tightly, securing it.

Your eyes met him as he opened the door. His outfit looked the same. His hairstyles led properly. His rectangular glasses shined. Jonathan's eyes then met yours.

"(Y/n)? What are you doing here?" he asked, not closing the door.

Fuck, he looks hot.

"I— I'm here for the prescription you needed, Doctor Crane," you replied, handing out the paper box with his name on your hand. "Your.. secretary said that she was busy so I decided to just give it to you instead of myself."

Jonathan's eyes still locking yours. "Oh. Well, thank you, (Y/n). Do you want to come inside?" he offered, taking the prescription in your hands gently, his fingers touching yours.

You felt a strike on your spine at the sudden short touch. Jonathan's touch was gentle and his hands felt soft.

"O-Okay.." you replied.

Jonathan opened his door widely, letting you come inside first and then him. His office was twice as big as the outside. His certificates hanging on the wall. A small scarecrow figure is displayed on the black shelves.

"Please, sit." Jonathan offered.

Nodding, you sat down. Your hand still clutching tightly to your pockets.

"How have you been?" he asked, leaning against his wooden table while you sat in front of him.

"I'm fine, Doctor Cra—"

"Jonathan. Jonathan is alright." he interrupted.

"Oh, right.." you nodded. "I'm fine, Jonathan. Lots of customers but still doing great. And you?"

"Same way either," he replied, removing his glasses as he looked at you and fuck, you find it so hot.

"So, your secretary.." you brought up the topic. "Is she your.. girlfriend?"

Your question made him laugh. Putting his glasses on he replied, "What makes you think that?"

"Well, she told me that she's your soon-to-be girlfriend so you know.." your hands never leaving your pocket.

Jonathan notices how your hands never leave your pocket. His eyes trying to know what you're hiding inside it.

"What's in your pocket?" he asked, changing the topic.

Fuck.

You sighed, giving up. You stood up and grabbed the spray in your pocket, spraying on his face a couple of puffs. You let out a relief.

His eyes squinted, attempting to rub the liquid off his face.

"How are you feeling, Jonathan?" you asked, walking towards him closely; your face getting closer to his as you trickled your fingers onto his soft face before letting your lips meet his. His hands gripped your waist softly as he kissed back, savoring each other's taste.

He finally opened his eyes and let out another laugh. You let go of him immediately, you were confused. It didn't work? But you were sure that the formula was right. You had the right chemicals. You had the best hallucinogenic chemicals in the city.

Unless..

"Let me guess.. love potion?" he asked, his lips painting a smirk on his face as he looked at you.

You panicked. "I— Why isn't it working?"

Your heels stepped backward while he moved forward. Your heart started to thump aggressively; you were panicking.

"Why isn't it working indeed." Jonathan's eyes grow wide as his lips curve into a smirk. "Well, there are only two options. Either your little experience was an absolute fail or I'm already in love with you."

The words coming out of your mouth left you gasping. He's right. There were only two options.

"But how about your secretary?" you asked.

Jonathan began walking much closer to you until both of your faces were inches apart; your waist hitting his desk. You can be sure that he can hear how loud your heartbeat is. You can smell his strong men's perfume from his neck and his wrists. You can see how ravishing his blue eyes really are.

"It's you. It's always been you." Jonathan confessed, his eyes getting soft as he looked at you.

After a few visits from the pharmacy, Jonathan started to take an interest in you. He observes how you tilt a strand of your hair to the back of your ear whenever he compliments you. How your things are always the same color which he thinks is your favorite. How your ears perked up whenever he brings small conversations about your expertise— medicines.

Jonathan's soft hands found their way to your hips, securing them; tthemknowow you were his. Your lower body sat on top of his black wooden table. His, then, lips crashed into yours again but delicately. You were shocked by the sudden confession and the kiss but you ignored it anyway; you kissed him back, gripping a fistful of his hair as the kiss deepened. The way his tongue met yours made you wet. He explored your lips and tongue, allowing him to savor your taste leaving a trail of kisses down your neck before sucking it, making you suddenly moan in pleasure.

"Ah yes," you moaned but immediately covered your mouth when you noticed how loud it was.

"Don't worry, love," he said in between kisses, continuing to mark your neck. "The whole room is soundproof. Scream all you want, doll."

The wetness in your panties became worse. Your breath hitched as he sucked that spot in your neck. His hands began to trail down to your thighs, his fingers tracing it. The tent in his pants began to be visible.

"Please— touch me, Jonathan.."

Jonathan's fingers now trailed in between your thighs, toying with your clothed clit under your skirt. The touch sends shivers down your spine. He can feel how wet you are and your white lacey panties.

His lips began to paint another sluggish smirk. "So wet for me already?" he teased.

"Please, Johnny. I need you," you cried in pleasure as his fingers started to massage your clit from your panties.

Jonathan removed your panties before throwing them off the floor. The cold air touching your sensitive cunt made you shiver. His thumb began to rub it slowly and then his pace fastened making you bob your head backward, your eyes closing as you felt the pleasure down there. The wet noise echoed all over the room. He then started to insert two of his fingers with no warning making you moaaloudud.

"Fuck!— Yes, Jonathan!"

You moaned as his finger hit that spongy spot there. Your toyed pussy clenching around his fingers. His thumb circling figure eights on your clit. Back arching, your legs squirmed.

Jonathan's fast pace made you feel the knot in your stomach tighten, feeling more wet. Your moans were getting louder and louder.

"Jon.." you moaned. "I'm close."

"Go on," he whispered, you can feel his hot breath on your neck. "Cum on my fingers."

Jonathan's pace quickened until your orgasm flowed. His fingers were coated with your white juices. Jonathan brought up his fingers to his tongue, licking it clean as he tasted your juice.

"Mhm, sweet," he smirked.

Even though you just came from your orgasm, you still have that desire for more. You want him to take you. You want to feel him.

Jonathan gave you a small sweet kiss before his hands found their way to his black trousers, unzipping them; his erection can be clear through his boxers.

"You want me that bad, huh?" he teased. "I think you're the one who drank that potion of yours."

His voice was deep, husky, and raspy which made you want him more. He removed his black blazer, leaving him with his white long-sleeved polo and a tie. You began to unzip your skirt as well, tossing it on the floor. He kisses you again deeply.

As soon as he removed his boxers, his cock sprung out. He was bigger than you expected and veiny. Jonathan began to align his cock to your dripping and aching hole and then inserted himself fully.

"Fuuuckkk—" he groaned as he felt your tight walls take him. "You're so tight."

You gasped as you felt his length take you; a loud hiss escaped from your lips.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt?" he genuinely asked as he noticed you hissed.

Shaking your head, you gripped his broad shoulders. "No— I'm fine. Just keep going."

Jonathan started to slowly thrust inside you, taking no rush which you appreciated. He was gentle. Your legs locked his hips as you embraced his shoulders with your arms.

"I've been dreaming about this since—" he let out a low groan as his hips moved closer to you . "..the day I saw you. Fuck, you're beautiful."

His thrust quickened, making you moan. Your tits were bouncing at every move he makes. Your eyes were completely shut, your head rolling back as you savored the pleasure Jonathan gave you. The way his tip hit your G-spot made you scream a series of the most pornographic moans you've ever done.

"Oh my god! Yes yes yes!"

A smirk on his face was formed when he heard your lovely moans in his ears. Your moans are probably his favorite note. His baby blue eyes met yours when you looked at him. The way he was still wearing his sexy glasses made you blush more.

"You feel so good, my love," he said in between his thrusts. "Fuck— you're mine, okay?"

"Yes, Johnny! I'm—fuck— yours!"

All you felt was nothing but love and ecstasy. Every thrust, every moan, every kiss, and every touch coming from him makes you feel weak and pleasurable.

The table you guys were fucking on aggressively moves at every movement the both of you do. His files, ball pens, and other items fell from the table but none of you minded as your business was focused somewhere else.

A feeling of wetness and and closeless throb in your stomach. Jonathan abusing your sensitive spot with his fat cock didn't help. Your moans and his grunts synchronize together as the both of you feel close.

"I'm gonna cum, love. Where do you want it?"

"Inside, please! Fuck! Fill me up, please please please!"

"My princess wants me to fill her up, yeah? Alright then."

After a few more aggressive thrusts, you felt your orgasm came. His cock was now stained with your cum as he continued.

"Gonna cum now, doll. Take it, baby. Yes yes yes!" Jonathan groaned as he finally came inside you. His dick spurts out his hot white cum inside your walls. Jonathan, then, pulled out; a mix of his load spilled out in your hole.

"Fuck, look at that," he said, watching it dripped to his black table.

Jonathan gave you another kiss but this time, it was passionate. His lips let out a series of compliments which made you flustered and blush at the same time.

"I guess I'll be the one who'll give you your medicines now," you teased.

"I look forward to that, my love."

After dressing up again, Jonathan guided you to the door, not wanting you to be late for your shift. As soon as he opened the door, the both of you were greeted by his assistant who just came in.

"Doctor Crane and... Miss (L/n)... Didn't expect you to visit here." the female assistant said, clearly not expecting you at all.

"Natalia, clear out my schedule this Friday. I'm going on a date with Miss (L/n) here." Jonathan said, making you blush at the sudden invitation.

His assistant's face turned into a frown and anger but tried to let out a fake smile before you and Jonathan left his clinic.

"Your assistant must be sad that I'm going out with you, Doctor Crane."

"Oh, baby... I'm only yours."

[mickyschumacher]

𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: carlos sainz and you have an on and off relationship: full of an alluring pain. and no matter what, it seems you two always come back to one another. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), infidelity, toxic relationship, reader has a vagina, unprotected sex (wrap it up like a gift!), reader slaps carlos, crying, ANGST, carlos bordering on being a sadist, cumming inside, fingering in the car, that being said - dangerous car driving, oral sex, incorrect model stuff probs, severely poorly utilised spanish, probs poorly written smut lol, probably missing plot holes but yeh

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x model!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+

𝐀/𝐍: this is poorly based off taylor swift' 'style'. i hadn't realised i turned such a nice song into something well um... not nice? proof-read but as always, don't hold it against me!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

Before you even started your cat-and-mouse game with Carlos, you were well aware that he was trouble the moment he walked into the room.

Scratch that.

Formula One drivers were nuisances. Ask any other model on the street and they would probably agree with you.

You knew that it was a relationship you probably shouldn't even be in. He was always going to be away in a new country every other week while you were doing photoshoots and walking runways. You would barely have time with each other. You don't think that you could even label such a relationship 'long distance'.

So when your management sent you down to the infamous Monaco Grand Prix as eye-candy, how were you to deny those brown eyes constantly lingering on you, following your body as he sported a smug smile? No one would be in their right mind to not fall for a guy like Carlos.

The heated gazes, the flirty comments, the burning brushes of touch... it was clear for the both of you that you had to be together.

But of course, despite knowing all of this, you couldn't help still feel a bit emotional about your relationship.

midnight

you come and pick me up, no headlights

long drive

could end in burning flames or paradise

fade into view, oh

it's been a while since i have even heard from you

Here you were. In Miami. The sun had fully set and the rare few stars you could find had taken up their night shift.

You were just leaving the office of your management after having a discussion on what photoshoots you were doing in the upcoming weeks and what events you were attending.

Chanel, Dior, Ralph Lauren, YSL, Louis Vuitton...

Brands on any other general day you would've love to talk about. But your mind was in a state of disarray after receiving a message from a certain Spaniard.

hot spanish polla (prick)

pick you up in 15, princesa (princess)

behind your office.

Even now, looking at the message again, you let out a scoff. You scrolled up, finding the last message you had sent to him. In January.

It was currently May.

Your fingers clenched around your phone as you let out a shaky sigh. Despite all the rage you felt, of course you were here, in the secluded area of your company.

You looked down at your clothes. A model life meant wearing 'fashionable' clothes. You, your manager, and your stylist often pre-agreed on the outfits you wore just for the sake of your image. Today, your stylist had dressed you in a black mini skirt and maroon sweater. You neck and ears all adorned in thin gold jewellery while you feet were hugged by a classic pair of white sneakers.

You pursed your lips. At least you looked good.

But of course this was just like Carlos. Speaking, calling, texting... all when he wanted. You knew he was in Miami. You weren't an idiot. You had all of this season's races organised into your calendar.

You were just in disbelief that Carlos had the audacity to even text you after not hearing even a word from him in almost five months.

Your ears perked up to a low rumble of a car entering the area. The headlights were off but you could still spot it's familiar features. You eyed the iconic Prancing Horse and rolled your eyes. The love and hate you had for Ferrari was unexplainable.

The car stopped in front of you and the door of the driver's seat opened. Carlos came out as if he were in slow motion.

You sucked your tongue to your lips upon eyeing his appearance. He was in a black coat, a simple white shirt that stuck to his sculpted body paired with black trousers that brought out his stupidly defined thighs. Those thighs... god, how much time had you spent on them?

and i should tell you to leave 'cause i

know exactly where it leads, but i

watch us go 'round and 'round each time

Carlos waved a hand through his hair and smiled at you. You could feel his eyes waver over you, making you suppress the innate shudder his gaze would usually send you. You couldn't let him think that everything was okay.

He opened the door to the passenger side and gestured for you to come in with an extended hand.

You folded your arms and stared at him. Were you really going to do this? Yes. Was this what you deserved after so long? A man who felt dizzy for you but wouldn't speak to you for four months? Yes and no.... yes.

Carlos narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to look at you. He knew exactly what you were thinking. "Get in the car, Y/N. Before I make you."

There was nothing threatening about his tone. In fact, even if it was, it would be an empty threat. Because at the end of the day, the both of you knew you were going to.

You internally sighed, before walking up to the open door. You turned your head to him and gave an amused huff. "As if you would, Sainz."

Carlos flashed his classic grin, the very one that had gotten you into this mess in the first place, and watched you enter his car.

By the time you had but on your seatbelt and rested your arm on the door, Carlos had finally sat next you.

"You look good, cariño (darling)," Carlos murmured, bringing your hand up to his mouth to leave a small kiss.

You clenched your jaw at the fiery tingle that sprawled across your hand. You snatched your hand away. "I know. I look good all the time," You mentioned curtly.

Were you being a bitch? A bit catty? Simply put, yes. But you thought a man who usually got what he wanted deserved some sort of catty behaviour.

"Four months, Carlos, four goddamn months... of nothing," You sighed out.

A remorseful expression fell over Carlos' face. "I know. I'm so sorry, cariño. I don't have any excuses."

You huffed once again with an irked smile, folding your arms while you looked out your window. You could think of one. But maybe it wasn't time to bring it up right now. You were tired of this game already. You would rather a false peace than the raw reality.

Your eyes peered over to him. "Long drive home?" You asked.

Carlos smiled softly at you. "As per usual."

You nodded slowly and Carlos turned the key of the car. The engine came alive and seemingly so did he as his hand naturally fell to your thigh while he reversed out.

you got that james dean daydream look in your eye

and i got that red lip classic thing that you like

and when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

you got that long hair slicked back, white t-shirt

and i got that food girl faith and a tight little skirt

and when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

Carlos could feel your eyes on him as he drove down the empty, long roads of Miami, dotted with the sparsely spaced palm trees swaying in the warm summer breeze.

Your eyes trailed over every inch of him. His hair. His eyes. His lips. His neck. His body. Every crevice. As if you were trying to print an image in your mind.

You always looked at him like that. Carlos remembered asking you about it. "What are you looking at?" He would ask.

"Just you," You would retort, "I just can't believe someone like you exists."

Carlos would chuckle and question what you meant by that. You simply said he reminded you of James Dean. Even now. His hair was slightly grown and slicked back with the heat of Miami. His entire aura was smug and intoxicating. The entire world could see Carlos Sainz as the Spanish romantic driver, but you knew that behind that warming exterior, was something dirty... troublesome in the best way, in fact.

You, god, you were the complete opposite. Y/N L/N. The good girl model. Pure. Untainted. The type of model you would see in spreads of brands right after they had a controversy because your angel aura would put anyone back in the good books. No matter how revealing your clothes were or how much skin you had on display, you were somehow still the epitome of unadulterated goodness.

There was a saying that people often associated with good girls like you. Every good girl wants a bad boy to be good just for her.

You wished that wasn't true. How desperately had you avoided all those flashy teenage popstars and actors. But here you were inevitably falling for an intoxicating Carlos Sainz. Time and time again.

so it goes

he can't keep his wild eyes on the road

You let out a shaky sigh as Carlos' hand travelled closer and closer up your inner thigh. "Carlos," You warned, eyes widening slightly as those brown eyes were planted firmly on you, taking in every little movement of yours, instead of looking at the road.

"Yes, my ñina bonita (beautiful girl)," He answered almost questioningly in a teasing tone.

"Keep your eyes on the road," You weakly mumbled.

You both watched his fingers linger up your skirt. His fingers danced across your burning skin and paused at the thin material covering your core. You sucked in a sharp breath once those fingers met your panties.

Carlos grinned at your shaking eyes and the warm dampness on his fingers. "You make it hard to look away," He confessed earnestly.

You could feel his fingers rub your pussy ever so slowly, only just grazing over that sensitive nub of yours.

"Jesus fucking christ, Carlos," You hissed out, hips bucking at his touch.

Carlos could feel his pants become incredibly tight all of a sudden. The control he had over you was so enthralling that he wanted to simply stop in the middle of the highway, grab you by yours hips and fuck the living life out of you.

What a sight that would be. You straddling his lap, soaking his trousers as your ass rested against the Ferrari symbol embedded into the steering wheel. He would make sure that the brand he represented would be covered in your cum after he was done with you.

Carlos sucked in a sharp breath. "Jesus fucking christ, indeed, cariño," He managed to get out, blinking hard at the road in front of him.

He watched out of his peripheral vision as your head fell back against while his thick fingers pushed past your panties and slid against your drenched folds.

His fingers ventured and craved a journey, feeling each crevice of your pussy. Carlos thrusted his fingers into your warm walls, briefly watching you envelope him entirely.

"Fuck, Carlos," You moaned out, hand instinctively reaching out to covers his. You couldn't tell if you wanted him to stop in this horny haze or push him in even further.

It must have been the latter as you could feel his fingers delve further into you. Carlos let out a strangled moan, foot pressing further on the accelerator. He needed to get you home as fast he could.

takes me home

the lights are off, he's taking off his coat

i say "i heard, oh, that you've been out and about with some other girl"

he says, "what you heard is true

but i can't stop thinking 'bout you and i"

i said, "i've been there too a few times."

By the time you had reached home and got to your bedroom, the entire of your house remained living in the darkness you had found it in.

Carlos and you didn't need lights. If there was anything he was purely confident about, other than his driving of course, it was your body. He knew it like he knew those race tracks. Every curve. The distance from your breasts to your pussy. How long it would take you to cum. He knew it all.

Carlos shrugged off his coat somewhere onto your floor, needing a release from the heat surging through his body. Your shoes and socks he had pulled off in a haste as well.

His lips had found yours as his hands roamed your back, pulling him closer to you. His fingers snuck past the hem of your shirt, brushing your bare skin while reaching up your torso to find a neat surprise.

"No bra," Carlos' hoarse voiced queried with the sound of a smirk playing at his lips. At least thats what you could assume in the dark.

Carlos inched you towards your bed as if it was a second nature to him.

The soft silk sheets he had bought you last year consumed the both of you as his fingers brushed past your nipple.

You released yourself from this kiss at the action, gasping for the air that Carlos had taken from you.

"I heard you were with some other girl. Is this what you did with her?" You finally asked, feeling a small smirk grow onto your face despite the annoyance running through your body.

You could feel Carlos stop moving, probably boring those beautiful brown eyes of his into you.

He knew what you were talking about. February. Pre-testing season. The drivers, some staff and their partners had gotten together to celebrate the upcoming season.

Lando, like the photo lover he was, had decided to document the night with his camera and post it to his Instagram dedicated to photos, lando.jpg.

You had clicked on it a few hours later, deciding to see how much fun they were having while you were doing a photoshoot with Kim Jones. Pictures of Charles dancing terribly with Max had made you laugh. Carmen looking concerned for George's wellbeing as he took shots had made you laugh even harder. There was also a photo of Alex and Lily being the cute paddock couple they were while Carlos was drunkly looking into the camera

But then your fingers stopped on particular photo of Carlos.

He looked good, you could not deny him that. Flushed skin, hazed eyes, the perfect smile... all while dressed as the Madrid's richest.

But lo and behold, that wasn't the only thing getting your attention. Instead, it was the girl in his arms. The same girl who in the next few photos had her lips on him and his hands on her ass. You could even spot a fresh hickey that wasn't on her neck in the previous photo.

God, the comments and tweets were coming in at lightning speed.

user55: who's the girl? i thought carlos was with y/n?

user04: maybe they broke up?

user16: wasn't just with her for new years? jfc, that man needs to get a grip

mickyschumacher: y/n deserves better than this

user44: i wonder if she knows?

Quite soon after, Lando had taken down the post, apologising to you profusely. You reassured him it was okay, even though deep down you were exhausted of this.

Not only had Carlos been going around with another girl, but he didn't even have the decency to say sorry. He would rather say nothing.

Carlos didn't know what was worse. His growing guilt or the fact that your reaction was making him harder.

His fingers skimmed across your swollen lips. "Obviously what you saw was true. But the thing is... I can't stop thinking about you and I, princesa. You consume me for every second of the day. Even if I don't show it. Fuck, I have a ritual before every race, you know? To cum to your name... to your body."

Was is it a poor excuse? Yes. It didn't even explain why he had done it in the first place. But the most damning thing was, you didn't care. Or you could care less to begin with.

Instead you were turned on. The pool in your panties had gotten even bigger as you released a light moan at his words. Your hands travelled to his waist, peeling off his white shirt while he raised his arms. The combination of your body heat was so high that it could almost be considered unsafe for the average human.

"You're a lucky man, Sainz. I can't stop thinking about you too."

Carlos could only let out a moan at your words, removing your sweater before bringing his lips to your nipples, dividing his attention to them equally. His hands were busy unbuckling his belt and taking off his trousers.

Your hand reached into his long hair, gripping the locks tightly as he moaned against your breasts. You could hear the clink and thud of his belt and pants hitting the floor as he pushed up your skirt, unbothered to take it off.

In face, these mini skirts were going to be the death of Carlos. He loved them on you. It wasn't just the easy access to the heaven down there. But if he had to explain it, it was the way they rested on your thighs. Laying there simply, not doing anything but creating a monster in him.

Carlos pushed your panties to the side, plunging his fingers into you without any warning. He could feel you arch your back and push your head into the bed while you writhed under his touch.

"Fucking hell," You swore, clenching your thighs around his hands.

Carlos chuckled. "Such a dirty mouth, princesa," He stated before speeding up his pace.

Your loud moans echoed within your empty house. Your hips bucked into his hand, fucking yourself faster on him to chase the release he had built up in the pit of your stomach.

"You wanna cum, Y/N? Hmm? Tell me?"

The sweat was building up on your skin as Carlos had added his thumb over your clit. He rubbed his thumb briefly in slow circles but he had given up on the teasing. He wanted you to squirm in his hands because that's how much pleasure you were receiving. He flicked the nub in fast motions, dropping his warm spit into your hot folds.

"Holy–Carlos!"

Carlos smirked at the ironic combination of words following out of your mouth. Yes, he was holy. But if he was that divine, you were no angel. You were a sin. A goddess. A she-devil.

"I would love to watch you cum, princesa. I really would. But my cock is begging for you, hmm? I think your pussy deserves some attention that isn't my fingers, no?"

Carlos had stopped moving his hand and removed his fingers from you. He could feel you shake in his hold. From anger or pleasure, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he had left you begging for more.

Although it must've been anger.

Because almost immediately, he had heard it before he felt it. The sharp whack of the air. The burn on his cheek almost sizzling.

You could feel his hot gaze pierce through you as your chest heaved up and down in frustration. "You're a little shit, Carlos," You groaned. "Sorry, no. What was it in Spanish? Polla? Yes, fucking polla."

The room had turned eerie in seconds. Carlos' silence had started to worry you. You could still feel his gaze and hear his laboured breathing but he was saying nothing.

Suddenly you felt his hands wrap around your waist and move to his lap. You let out a gasp at the bare cock you had been placed upon and the sloppy lips resting near your ear.

"I think I need to fuck the nice back into you, princesa, no? Maybe if you become my little divine goddess, I'll let you cum, hmm? What do you think?" Carlos' whisper was hot and heavy in your ear. "Use your words, mi amor (my love)".

Goddamn it. He had broken out the 'mi amor'. The only thing that had you hanging by a thread. The sliver of hope that whatever you and Carlos had going on was more than this. That you truly loved one another.

"Yes, Carlos," You said, bringing a gentle peck to his lips.

You could feel him smile against your lips. "There's my good girl.''

Carlos pushed your panties aside, assured that you were stretched out and wet enough by his fingers. He grabbed his cock and was overcome with a shudder when rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds.

"Spit, cariño," His voice commanded.

You gathered all the saliva that had easily accumulated after salivating for this man and let the warm fluid fall from your lips.

Carlos couldn't see but he could just imagine if the lights were on. The bubbled liquid falling from those pretty lips of yours, turning into thin strings as they had perfectly landed on the slit of his cock.

He didn't even have to say anything as your nimble fingers rubbed your saliva over his shaft. You could hear his heavy breaths in the air and a small sigh of pleasure came from his lips. "Baby, let's get me in you, hmm?"

You let out a small whimper at his words before releasing a strangled moan as you pushed his cock into your pussy. You could feel each swollen and puffed out fold take him in and your warm walls wrapping around him tightly.

Carlos shut his eyes tightly. "Mierda (shit). You feel so good, princesa," He groaned, lifting his hips up.

You moaned in agreement, throwing your hands around his neck as he thrusted in and out of you.

The concept that cock could made a person dumb often sounded strange. But with Carlos, it was true. You couldn't do anything or say anything but moan in pleasure.

"Lamp. I need to see your face, princesa," Carlos muttered out in awkward pauses, rutting his hips against you in an angle that almost made it impossible for you stretch your arm out and turn on the lamp.

A yellow illuminated the room and finally, you could see each other.

You had made eye contact with Carlos. His eyes bore into you while his mouth was agape as if he was constantly ready to moan. His normally slicked hair was now tousled courtesy of your fingers.

Jesus, was he a sight to behold.

But Carlos didn't think any less of you. God, how were you even real? Your skin was flushed, hair sticking out in every direction, sweat and traces of your wetness across your body and your eyes: dazed with lust and bordering on the edge of being fucked out.

But most especially, those goddamn lips of yours. They were painted with red when Carlos had first picked you up. The red had faded, only trace amounts left mixed with the red flush of the swelling he had brought by kissing you. What a vision you were.

Your eyes flickered to the specifically red cheek that faced you. God, this man knew how to make you feel for anything. His hips jerked into you, pushing his cock deeper as every second passed. The spell he had on you was serious; dangerous.

You could feel a glaze of water fall over your eyes as your fingers brushed his reddened cheek. His skin was still warm from your slap. Carlos shivered at your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

"I'm sorry, Carlos," You murmured out so quietly that if he wasn't listening so intently, he would've missed it. "I didn't mean to."

Carlos could feel his heart pace as you softly kissed the burning skin of his. It was as if you were kissing his pain away. A warm tear from your eyes had fallen onto his cheek, making his heart melt.

Carlos could feel himself tighten at the action, even more so when you clenched your walls tightly around him.

"You think you deserve to cum, mi princesa?" Carlos queried, wrapping his hand around your jaw and making you turn to face him. His eyes shook at your teary eyed gaze. The mascara and eyeliner you wore had broken down. If he hadn't felt so soft for you, he would've teased you and said you looked like a racoon.

Carlos could feel you start to shake as you buried your nails into his skin. To his surprise, you shook your head no. You begun to slow your pace and clench around him, only trying to get him off.

"Oh mi amor, mi ñina bonita, you deserve to cum. You deserve a lot more than you know," Carlos whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear. He planted a soft kiss to your forehead before bringing his thumb to your clit, rubbing hard and increasing the speed of his cock thrusting in and out of you.

You couldn't help but let out a sob mixed with both pleasure and sadness. A wave of euphoria convulsed within your body as Carlos staggered to a halt in you. His cock twitched and throbbed, spilling his hot cum into your walls.

You bought Carlos into a tight hug, pushing yourself further onto his cock, making him groan again and release a few more ropes of his cum into you.

Carlos brought his lips to your shoulders and left a small trail of kisses as the two of you calmed down.

The double meaning to his words had thrown you off.

You could tell what he meant.

This why he had reached out in the first place.

His guilty glances. The poor excuses.

This was the last time.

Whatever this was between you... it had to end.

You both needed to move on.

But especially you.

It was a gutting feeling to know. But Carlos was right. This sadness, this anger, this toxicity could go on no longer. Despite being heartsick, you were happy though.

Because even if this ended, you had gone out in style.

𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑