#give the song a listen if you have the time and want to!

[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

[fangirl-dot-com]

🚕Accidentally Kidnapping a Mafia Boss

*part of the reverse tropes imagines* *this was actually so much fun to write! this is in no way dark whatsoever. it's super funny and the reader is pretty ditzy but it's all in good fun! hope you like it!*

TAG LIST CLOSED

You hummed to whatever tune was playing on your half-broken radio. Most of the lyrics came out as muffled voices, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because like the radio, your car was almost dead. 

Key word being almost. 

You had bought the car at the beginning of your high school career and refused to give it up. But, your father had finally convinced you to buy a new one. However, buying a new car was expensive, hence why you were driving around town at 7 p.m. on a Friday night trying to find someone who needed an Uber. 

Your family had mentioned how dangerous it was to drive for the “taxi” company, but no one else was hiring at this time. 

“It’s an easy way to make bank,” you had told your very confused parents. 

Your hand came up and smacked the top of the dash, causing the radio to spam for a moment before finally, clear voices played out. However, your eyebrows furrowed once you could actually listen to the song. 

“This is not my playlist,” you muttered while trying to get your Bluetooth to come back on. Once your fingers reached the dials, your phone lit up with an Uber notification. 

“Finally.”

You quickly put in the address and drove down the street. Your humming resumed, playlist reaching out through the speaker. You hadn’t even glanced at where the location was, or you would have realized that you were going in the wrong direction. 

When you were supposed to be going further into the town, you were headed for the city. The only place your parents refused to let you drive. 

It might have to do with the local mafia war that was going on. Something about track limits or whatnot. However, that was not going to stop you from getting paid that night. 

You finally came to a stop at the corner of what you thought to be Fifth and Main, like your phone said to stop at. The actual corner was Fourth and Main, but you couldn’t tell because half of the word “fourth” was smudged with some type of brown substance. 

Your shoulders raised in a shrug while your gaze landed back on your phone. At least you were supposed to be picking up a nice older looking lady. That’s what your Uber app said anyway. You leaned forward in the driver’s seat, making the entire car squeak. Before you knew it, your fingers had started to tap along to the song that was still playing. 

The sound of the door opening and slamming shut caught your attention. 

“Drive!” you heard from behind you. 

Your entire body turned in the seat as you looked to the back row of your car. 

That was not a nice looking old lady. 

The man that now resided on the back road had a mean glare as his eyebrows cocked. Sea blue eyes met your own as the man leaned forward and pointed out the window. 

“I said drive, let’s go!” the accented voice yelled.  

If you had taken a moment to actually look at the man, you would have noticed his roughed up suit, along with the bright red splatters along his white dress shirt. And on his belt line, a gun seemed to be tucked. 

But you hadn’t noticed. 

“Yes sir!” you cheerfully said, putting the car into drive. A loud boom sounded outside the car, but your radio had decided to turn up full blast, masking the sound. Your car squeaked as it started to move away from the corner and farther along the road. 

The man in the back seat seemed agitated, but slowly relaxed the farther away you got on the highway. He had leaned back against the window and rubbed his eyes. You wanted to keep glancing back at him, but you needed to drive. When you noticed that the Uber app had not updated with his next location, you gathered the courage to speak. However, he beat you to it. 

“Is this your first time?” 

You sheepishly grinned back at him. “Yes, sir. Sorry, is it that noticeable?” 

A grunt escaped his lips. 

“The damn Get Away Car sticker on the back is not very inconspicuous. You need to get rid of it.” 

“Oh! So you don’t like Taylor Swift that much?” 

The man glared at you through the rearview mirror, before he shut his eyes. His hand waved at you through the gap between the front seats. 

“Just don’t miss the exit.” 

“Sir, you’ll need to put in your location first.” 

His eyes shot open. “I guess this is your first day. How did you ever get through training?” 

You glanced back. “Training? It was all online?” 

A huff only answered as he reached for what you hoped was a phone in his pocket. 

“I’ll have to let Lando know that online training will not work.” 

You let out a nervous giggle, noting that there was no “Lando” in the Uber training video. But, once again, the money promised kept you going down the highway. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping that the guy would just put his address in. Now you were getting annoyed.

“Sir, I really need the address or I’ll have to make you get out.” 

A click near your ear made you freeze. 

“Who do you think you are? Giving orders to de Leeuw.” 

You had definitely picked up the wrong person. You wanted to start explaining yourself, but the gun near your head made the words die out in your throat. You could feel his breath on your ear as he spoke. This would be hot, if you weren’t scared to lose your life. 

“Now, you’re going to tell me who you are and why you don’t know where the right exit is. Are you working for Hamilton? Vettel? Alonso?” 

You were so caught up in not wanting to die that you missed the car in front of you slamming on your breaks. You were thankful for your fast reflexes as your foot pressed down on the left pedal, making your car lurch to a halt. A thump on the back of your seat had you reeling around to see what had happened to the blond man. 

You were surprised to see him now sprawled on the back seats, eyes closed and gun now on the floor. Your hands were shaking as you were now able to take a random exit. When you got to a random parking lot, your head hit the steering wheel. 

“I have de Leeuw in my back seat.” 

Your breathing started to grow ragged. 

“I have  de Leeuw in my back seat!” 

You were now panicking. 

“I HAVE AN FUCKING UNCONSCIOUS MAFIA BOSS IN MY BACK SEAT!” 

Charles’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Max’s tracker come to a stop in a parking lot. The Dutchman was supposed to come back right away after a swift deal with Gasly on the other side of town. But, Charles’s heart had dropped when the car, that Max was supposedly in, turned at an exit too soon. He took off his headset and rolled his chair over a bit. 

“Lando, who was picking Max up today after the deal? Was it Carlos?” 

The curly-haired Briton spun in his seat to look at his fellow mafia worker. 

“Uh, Carlos called in sick. I thought it was Oscar’s turn?” 

Something felt weird in Charles’s stomach. 

“No, Oscar is on that mission? Daniel was then after Oscar.” 

Lando’s eyes widened with fear. “Daniel is out of the country.” 

The Monegasque turned back to his computer screen. All vitals for Max were still good, but he had yet to leave the location. His finger pointed and pressed against the screen. 

“Then . . . who has Max?” 

Back in the parking lot, you had gotten out of the car and were currently rocking back and forth in the fetal position. 

“This is not happening. Why did this happen to me? I only needed some money. Why did I get stuck with a mafia boss. I want to live. I need to get back home to my plant and cat.” 

Last time you checked, de Leeuw was still out cold. You had taken the gun just in case he woke up in a panic and started to shoot at stuff. That would not end well for you. You grabbed your phone and pushed a button. 

“Yes? Hi? Hello, I am calling about what to do if I picked up the wrong passenger. Uh-huh. Yes. I didn’t have his address. Well, no. He’s unconscious. I can’t call the police, he probably owns them. What? Ok. No? The hospital is under the law as well? Yep. I can’t just take him back! No, wait. Don’t hang up. Uhg.” 

So much for customer service. 

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket. Your feet took you over to your car, and you opened the back seat. The blond man was still looked like he was asleep. Your face got closer to his. 

Hm. Up close he was quite handsome. The freckle on his lip really added bonus points. You were so engrossed with the small dot that you missed the twitch of his eyes under his eyelids. When you looked back up, your eyes met blue, which made you shriek and fall back on your butt. 

Max was a bit out of it when he was trying to wake up. What he wasn’t expecting was a face to be so close to his when his eyes finally opened. He would laugh if he had the strength as he watched you fall onto the concrete. His hand immediately went to his belt, but his heart dropped when he didn’t feel his gun. 

“Looking for this?” you asked, gun outstretched at the man in your back seat. Max’s eyes widened at the gun pointed to his head. It took all of his strength to put his hands up. 

“You don’t want to do this,” is the first calm thing that the man said to you. You, however, kept the gun pointed directly at him. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But I can’t have you freak out on me and shoot my face. Who would take care of my cat back home? My cousin Lan could, but he kills everything.” 

Max registered the slight hitch in your voice. While his hands were still up, he took a moment to look around the parking lot. In the depths of his mind, he was hoping that Lando or at least Charles were on their way to come get him. Yet, his heart rate rose as he saw a few familiar things surrounding him. 

He turned back to you. “Ok, you need to listen to me. We are in Rosberg territory right now. And he’s not going to like us on his property. So, you need to give me the gun and get back into the car.” 

Your eyes flickered around, and caught some movement to the left and then to the right. You slowly inched the gun down as you walked closer. When you were right in front of the Dutchman, you quickly handed him the gun as you rounded the car to the drivers seat. 

Max quickly reloaded the unloaded gun with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t have shot him if you tried. It took a bit for him to do it, but when the magazine fit back in the gun, he was wondering why you hadn’t taken off yet. 

“We have to go, now,” he said sternly. 

You turned around. “But I need to find a good get-away-song.” 

Max could count the pout on your lips as adorable, if it weren’t for the fact that Rosberg’s men were quickly making their way to the car. 

“You’re going to have to pick a good funeral song if you don’t hit the gas pedal.” 

“Aha!” 

The music blared out of the broken speaker as you finally put the car into drive. You heard metal hit metal and prayed that you still could trade your car out for another (even with a few bullet holes). 

Max had pressed himself up against the back seat, gun cocked and ready. 

“You better not shoot out my back window. I have to trade this car for a new one.” 

Max muttered, “You won’t trade anything if you’re dead.” 

“I heard that!” 

The mafia boss ignored you as he kept watch. When a few cars started to gain, that’s when he leaned back and aimed the gun, firing shots through your back windshield, shattering the glass. 

“Do you listen to anyone? Or is my voice just static in your brain?” you asked as you swerved onto the highway. When Max didn’t answer, you huffed. You steadily drove your car down the big roads as Max tried his best to keep the cars at bay. 

“How far am I driving?” 

Max grunted as he ducked from a bullet. “Just until exit 7. That’s my track.” 

You wanted to hit your head on the steering wheel once again. “You’re telling me that if I just kept driving, I wouldn’t be in this situation?” 

When he didn’t answer, you swerved a bit to knock him off balance. Your chuckles hit Max’s ear, pissing him off even more. 

“And to think, I was going to replace this utter junk if you made it out alive.” 

“We’re not done yet mister.” 

There was still a bit of road to go, and you were hoping that Max would try to shoot out one of their tyres, instead of trying to shoot at their drivers. He was about reload when he heard a clicking sound. Max really wanted to through himself out the door. 

“Is your blinker seriously on right now?” 

Your fully turned around to glare. 

“Yes.” 

You jerked the wheel as you got onto exit 7, making the cars behind slowly back away and continue on the highway. You wiggled in your seat as you did a little celebration. When some familiar houses came into sight, you gasped. 

“My cousin lives around here!” 

Max was out of breath as he was flabbergasted by your upbeat spirit. “Cousin?” 

“Yeah! He has this like high tech job and stuff. I come over to swim in the summer.” 

He had no words as you pulled up to a familiar house. You scrambled out the door and fell face flat on the asphalt. 

“Sweet mother, thank you, thank you.” 

You could kiss the ground, but that would be super unsanitary. When the garage creaked, you quickly got up and scrambled behind Max, who raised his gun out of instinct. However, he wanted to laugh when he saw his two best friends in full oversized gear. 

The two friends froze at the sight of their boss and, well, Lando’s cousin. 

“Y/n?” the Briton questioned, pulling the visor on the oversized helmet up. 

Your sprung in your place. 

“Lando!” 

“Max?” 

“Charles?”

Lando squinted at you. 

“Y/n?” 

A nervous giggle escaped your lips. 

“Lando?” 

The curly-haired man rushed at you, making you dodge around Max. Which, that resulted in Lando chasing you around the yard. 

“You kidnapped my friend?” 

“Why are you friends with de Leeuw and apparently Il Predestinato? I’m telling Aunt Cisca!”

“Not if I tell your mum that you Ubered in the city!” 

Max and Charles watched as the two of you ran after each other, hurling insults and threats. The two jumped when they heard a loud creak behind them and then a crash. When they looked, your car was down to the ground, wheels askew. 

“My car! De Leeuw, you’re paying for that!”  

uber_y/n has posted

uber_y/n new baby from my new baby 🖤

liked by bestie, land0, max_v, and 204 others

bestie um excuse me ma'am 🤨 what happened to bessie? 😭

uber_y/n someone (not saying any names [max] ) SHATTERED HER BACK WINDOW

max_v I hope you like bessie 2.0 schatje

uber_y/n I dooooooo(not)

max_v woman 🙄

land0 you just had to go for my cousin 😐😑😐

uber_y/n he was very charismatic, unlike you noRIZZ 🫵💀

sharl_lec pls, for the love of everything good in this world, quit uber

uber_y/n NOPE on my way to pick up someone named...lewis?

max_v oh no

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[iluvmattsbeard]

lost time (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: nothing!

preview: your parents and the triplets parents have been best friends ever since before you guys were even born. you were sort of forced to grow up with the triplets. you and Matt were the closest. you two were hard to separate. but as you got to high school, you sort of fell off wanting to go do your own things. now as adults, you guys reunite and decide to make up for lost time.

a/n: i’ve been having so much inspo to write. you guys are keeping me motivated! i really appreciate it. listen to the song while reading, it really sets the scene. i encourage this with every imagine i write!LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE VERY APPRECIATED! - L🤍

"Y/n!" you hear your mother shout out from excitement as she runs over to you. you put down your luggage before embracing her in a hug, "hi mom! I missed you so much." you say rubbing her back. "I missed you more Y/n!" she says pulling away, giving your dad a chance to greet you. you haven't seen them in months. you were currently living in New York after you finished high school. you always wanted to live in the big city. you were grateful for the opportunity you received. you were majoring in the Arts. it was something you always wanted to do, but being apart from your family in Boston was the hardest thing you've had to go through.

"let's get inside. we have something to tell you." your mom says with a smile. you nod as you grab your luggage but, your dad ends up taking it from your hands. "dad I got it." you say letting out a soft laugh. "no you're our guest." he says letting out a chuckle. you three walk inside the house and you take off your coat. it was currently winter time. that was the reason why you were back home. it was December 20th, five days before Christmas. you were home for the holidays. you hang your coat on the rack and take off your shoes. you walk around analyzing everything. it was still the same, except for the fact that it was decorated for Christmas. you head towards the Christmas tree as you reach out for an ornament that had your elementary school picture in it. "did you really have to add this?" you ask with a soft laugh. "it was too cute not to add sweetie!" your mom says handing you a mug of her homemade hot chocolate.

"thank you mom." you say taking it. "so, what was it you needed to tell me?" you ask taking a sip. "Marylou, Jimmy, and their boys are coming to spend the holidays with us!" you almost choke at your mother's words. "they're back in Boston?" you ask with an awkward smile. last time you seen the triplets, it wasn't quite the ideal farewell. at least with Matt it wasn't. you still talk to Nick from time to time, Chris would like your social media posts, and Matt? well, nothing was happening between the two of you. not ever since high school at least. "yeah! the boys still live with them. I think they're like entrepreneurs or something. Marylou tried explaining it to me but I didn't quite understand." your mom says. "they'll be staying here with us until after Christmas." she adds on. your eyes widen a bit, "oh? you failed to mention this before I got here?" you say with a nervous laughter. "well, I know it isn't ideal for you. I know you and Matt didn't quite leave off on a good note." she says.

-FLASHBACK-

"so what? you meet a whole new group of people that you decide not to spend any more time with me?" you say standing there with your arms crossed. "y/n, we were always together. we're older now. we don't have to be with each other every single time." Matt says frustrated. you scoff before responding, "so you're telling me you want to stop being friends?" he shakes his head, "that's not what I said. all I said was, maybe now we can just do our own things." he says. "well that's not what you've been doing. you've shut me out completely." you say with a hurt expression. "maybe because everything has changed Y/n. you know I don't hang around your crowd." he says catching you off guard. "so just because you gained popularity, apparently my 'crowd' isn't your ideal group of people?" you scoff before continuing on, "yeah maybe everything has changed. you changed." you walk away from him leaving him in silence.

-END OF FLASHBACK-

"they'll be here any minute." your mom says adjusting the centerpiece on the coffee table. you felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest. you took constant sips from the warm mug as you sit down on the couch and wait. "you guys are adults now. you will figure it out." your mom says rubbing your arm. you didn't hold a grudge against Matt but, you still felt a sort of somber from the thought of what last happened. you suddenly hear a car pull up in front of your house. "they're here!" your mother says quickly getting up to rush over to the door. you stand up placing your mug on a coaster on the table before dusting off your corduroy pants due to your nervousness. "April!" you hear the familiar voice exclaim your mother's name. "Marylou!" she responds, happily embracing her in a hug. "is she here?" Marylou whispers to her. "yes she is! she's inside." your mother says before looking at the triplets boys. "Nick, Matt, and Chris!" she exclaims. "you boys are so grown up!" the boys smile with them shortly after embracing your mother individually in a hug. "hello Tyler!" Jimmy says greeting your dad, they end up doing a handshake.

after they all greeted each other, they finally headed inside carrying all their bags. you turn around swiftly as you see Marylou gasp from excitement, "my baby girl!" she says running up to you, hugging you. "hi Marylou, how have you been?" you say hugging back with a smile. "amazing now!" she pulls away looking at your mother, "April she looks just like you when you were in college." she adds on. you let out a soft laugh before turning towards the boys. Nick and Chris greet you with a hug before having a little small talk. Matt greeted you with a small 'hello' and awkward smile, which you did as well.

"i'm so excited for Christmas! it'll just be like the old days!" Marylou exclaims. "I brought the album book with photos of every Christmas we've celebrated!" "pull them out!" your mother says putting her hands together happily. now, you were all gathered around the couch as Marylou flips through the album book. "look how chubby your cheeks were Y/n." your dad points out with a chuckle. you felt your cheeks turn red from the comment as everyone laughs. "if only time would slow down." you hear your mother say. "I know. we're getting old!" Jimmy adds on. Marylou continues to flip through the book before landing on a photo of you and Matt smiling as little kids with missing teeth. you were both in matching Christmas sweaters as your head rested on his shoulder. "this is my favorite." Marylou says with a smile. you felt your heart ache from the sight of the photo. "you guys were so small!" your mom exclaims smiling. "yeah. now everything has changed." you blurt out with a fake smile. Matt turns his head towards you, shifting uncomfortably in his stance from the familiar words that came out your mouth.

*time skip*

you guys just had finished eating dinner. “that was amazing April.” Jimmy says wiping his mouth. “very delicious honey.” your dad says rubbing his stomach. everyone thanks your mother as she smiles, “my pleasure everyone!” she says cheerfully. you decided to help your mother clean up the table. the triplets were lead to the rooms they’ll be staying in for the next days by your father. Marylou and Jimmy were settling into their room.

“Y/n, get out of this kitchen.” your mother says pushing you away playfully. “mom let me help you.” you say trying to stop her. “no Y/n! this is your break. go relax or something.” she says still pushing you away. “you’re really not going to let me help?” you ask letting out a small laugh. “no! now go!” she says smiling. you shake your head with a smile before walking away. you head up the stairs, walking into your childhood bedroom. you look around at the pastel pink wallpaper as you let a small smile appear on your face. you were reminiscing over all the memories that you had in here. you were glad to be home. you then hear a slight knock at your door as you turn around to see Matt. “hi” he says. “hey”. you reply.

*time skip*

it was the next day, the mothers had plans to do some holiday baking while the dads just sat around and watched TV. Nick and Chris were out catching up with old friends as Matt stayed at the house. “Matt! Y/n! join us!” you hear your mom say happily. you walk to the kitchen as you see materials and ingredients laid out on the island table. Matt was on the opposite side of the island from you. “we’re going to bake gingerbread cookies!” Marylou says handing you and Matt aprons. you tie your hair back in a ponytail as you respond, “yummy”.

as you guys started it off, Marylou and your mother left it up to you and Matt to handle the cookies while they started to prepare this upcoming dinner. you were mixing the batter as you ask Matt to pour some flour on to the table. as he does so, you both took dough into your hands as you both talked. “i hope these turn out right.” you say. “me too.” Matt says with a smile. you guys just caught up talking about college as he talked about his career he started with his brothers. it felt nice to talk to him again. the conversation stops as he looks at your face, “wait hold on. you have a little something right here.” he says putting flour on your nose.

your mouth went slightly open from his actions as you let out a small scoff which turned into a smile. “oh really? because i think you have something on your whole face.” you say placing your floured hands on his face, rubbing it in. you pull away and start laughing, “oh you’re going to regret that.” Matt says with a grin, picking up more flour as he chases you around the kitchen. you shriek as you try to get away from him but he soon grabs you from behind, wrapping his arms around you as he rubs the flour all over your face.

“Matthew!” you exclaim. Marylou taps your mother trying to make her look at the scene that took place. “look April.” she whispers. your mother looks up and smiles. “guys! you’re making a mess!” your mother says laughing. your smile soon drifts away as you realize what was happening. you step away from Matt as you take off your apron heading straight upstairs. Matt just stood there feeling awkward.

later in the day, Matt knocks on your door anxiously. "come in." you shout out from behind the door. he opens the door stepping inside. you look at him before speaking, "what's up?" you ask sitting on your bed. you could tell he was hesitating to speak, "I think we should discuss about where we left off from the last time we've seen each other." he says sitting down next to you. "what's there to talk about? you made it very clear that you didn't want to be surrounded by me anymore." you say. "that's not true Y/n. at the time, I just felt like we were always together. I felt terrible for what I said. our friendship was great and I let it go stupidly." he says letting out a small breath.

all you do is avoid eye contact before he speaks up again, "can I make it up to you?" you look at him as you respond, "how?" “well i want to know you better now. you know, figure out what you’ve been doing ever since we fell off.” he says. you just look at him with a blank stare, “i don’t know about that.” you say.

“okay then let’s see…” he says looking at the time on his phone and smiles, "come on." he says standing up. "what? where are we going?" you ask confused. "just come on. put on a sweater." he says walking out your room. after a bit, you meet him outside as he stands there with his hands in his pockets. "Matt where are we going?" you ask putting your hands in your pockets. the snow fall was light, but the ground was coated white from earlier. he starts to walk as you follow quickly behind. "you'll see!" he exclaims. after a while, you guys were now standing at the park you use to go to as kids. "why are we here?" you ask smiling softly. "well, remember our snow days?" he asks. "of course I do. while Nick and Chris attacked each other with snowballs, you helped me build snowmen." you reply. "yeah. i'm glad you remember." he says crouching down bunching up the snow. "we're going to build a snowman." he adds on with a smile.

"this is how you're going to make it up to me?" you say crouching with him. he looks at you as he speaks, "to make up for the times we missed building a snowman." you look into his eyes for a bit before letting out a small laugh. you guys then continued to build a snowman. “it’s head is as big as yours.” you say laughing. Matt’s mouth opens slightly as he responds, “that’s so mean.” you both laugh and eventually after laid in the snow looking up at the starry sky.

“what are we going to name him?” you ask. Matt hums while he thinks before he thinks of the perfect name, “Louis.” you turn to face him as you hear the familiar name. Louis was the name of your childhood stuffed animal that you had matching with the triplets. “you remember Louis?” you ask. “of course i do. i still have his sibling.” he says which causes you to let out a small chuckle.

"I missed this." you hear him whisper. you stay silent as you thought to yourself. where was this effort back then? as much as you missed it too, you still couldn't forget. you sit up, "we should go before it gets any later." you say before getting up and walking away.

*time skip*

you were out sitting on the porch drinking hot chocolate as you had thoughts. should Matt be given another chance? he had you where he wanted you before until he made it disappear. why now does he want to fix things? your thoughts were interrupted when you feel a figure sit next to you. you turn to see who it is to find out it's Matt. "can I still prove to you I want to make up for lost time?" he says quietly. you could tell he was genuine. "okay how now?" you ask. he gets up with a smile as he asks you to follow him. he gets in the car as you join him in the passenger seat. "where are we going?" you ask putting on your seat belt. "some place special." he says as he drives off to the location. you look out the window as you see familiar scenery. you fix your posture as you try to hide a smile, "don't tell me we're doing what I think we're doing." he parks the car and smiles, "come on let's go." he says getting out the car.

he opens the trunk to reveal the famous sled you guys built together with your parents in middle school. you gasp while covering your mouth. "you kept it?!" you exclaim. "of course I did." he says pulling it out from the trunk. "we're going to do our tradition." the tradition was a silly thing you both liked to do during snow days. you would try to get to the highest hill and slide down without trying to fall off. you guys always failed. you and Matt climbed up a steep hill as you look at him. he places the sled onto the fluffy snow as he sits down leaving space for you in between his legs. you smile as you sit in front of him.

"are you ready?" Matt asks, "yes I am but, how did we do this back then? I forgot how steep this hill was!" you exclaim. you both let out a laugh as Matt speaks, "well you know the drill." "try not to fall off!" you say as he slides down the both of you. you shriek from the thrill as Matt laughs. when you guys reach the bottom, the sled comes to a sudden stop causing the both of you to tumble over into the snow. you both laid there cracking up. "I knew that would happen." you say clutching onto your stomach from how hard you were laughing.

"I don't think we'll ever not fall." Matt says shaking his head. "maybe next time." he adds on. "yeah maybe." you reply as your guys' laughter calms down. it eventually got silent as you continued to lay there with your arms by your side. you did miss this. "do you ever wonder what could've happened if we stayed close?" you ask still staring at the sky. "I'm not quite sure." he says doing the same. little did you know, he was inching his hand towards yours slowly. you guys laid there as his fingers were nearly touching yours.

*time skip*

it was finally Christmas morning, you were woken up by your mother shaking you excitedly. "Y/n! it's Christmas! time to get up." she says cheerfully. you rub your eyes as you look at her tiredly. "the triplets are already downstairs! come on!" she adds on before leaving your room. you get up and stretch before heading to the bathroom to do your morning routine. you put your hair up as you went downstairs. "good morning sunshine." Marylou says with a smile. "good morning" you reply smiling as well. "are you ready to open gifts?" you hear Chris say. "because we've been waiting." he adds on and you see Nick shove him.

"don't act like a child." Nick says to him as Chris rubs his arm. you let out a small laugh as you nod. you sit next to Matt and he greets you ‘Good morning’.

by the time all the gifts are open, everyone could be seen talking and laughing as you and Matt sit there taking everything in. "we need to make this a tradition again." your mom says. "absolutely!" Marylou says. "Y/n?" you hear Matt whisper to you. you turn your head to face him, "yeah?" you whisper back. "I got you a gift." he says. "you did?" you ask raising an eyebrow. he smiles and nods. "oh Matt... I don't have anything for you. I didn't know you were going to be here in the first place." you say with an awkward tone. "don't worry. I got this gift last minute. come with me." he says getting up. you look around as you notice nobody is paying attention. you get up as you follow him out the front door. "what plans do you have now?" you ask letting out a small laugh.

"well, I wanted to have this moment for just the two of us." he reaches into the car as he pulls out the same matching Christmas sweaters from when you were kids but in a bigger size. "Matt..." you say grabbing it slowly. "I think we should keep up with the traditions." he says putting on the sweater. you smile big as you do the same. "where did you even find these?" you asked looking down at the design. "I have my ways." he replies looking at you. you look up at him and smile, "thank you Matt." he smiles as he stands there rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I have one more thing." he says. "what? how much stuff do you have?" you say letting out a small chuckle. "you need to close your eyes for this one." you look at him confused before responding, "okay? you're not going to throw a snowball at me right?" he lets out a laugh as he shakes his head, "just close your eyes!" he exclaims. "fine sorry." you say shutting your eyes.

you heard his feet shuffle in the snow before you hear the movement stop. "alright you can open your eyes." you hear him say. you open your eyes slowly as you see Matt holding up a little plant. "Matt, is that what I think it is?" you say as your eyes turn soft and you gulp. it was a mistletoe. he lets out a shy laugh as he speaks, "you don't have to if you want but, I wanted to see if we could start a new tradition since we're older." you look at the plant as you smile wide, "of course I do." you say looking into his eyes before pulling him slowly into a soft kiss. Matt drops the mistletoe on the snow as he attaches his hands onto your waist.

you slowly pull away as you both hear a click. you and Matt turn towards the front of the house to see Marylou and your mother holding out a camera smiling. “everything has definitely changed.” your mom says. you and Matt look at each other and laugh.

a/n: this is a little longer than my usual stuff! i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it! LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! comment what you think about this and if i should do more taylor swift songs for my swifties. - L🤍

[slayfics]

heyyy i love you’re writing!! i’ve been listening to so much nessa barrett lately and her one song “lie” made me really want to read like a bakugou x reader story line of the song i feel like you’re writing would work well with it 🥹🥹

You see Katsuki on tv. Warnings: angst 600 words

You watched as bubbles crackled in your now almost empty drink, the ice collapsing into itself. Lime soaked and slowly disintegrated in the liquid.

"Another one sweetheart?" The bartender asks, bringing you out of your daydream.

You nod with a faint smile, it's the biggest smile you can gather up. The bartender gets working on your drink, feeling obligated to make small talk he looks up at you again, "You here alone?" he asks, pouring a shot into a new glass.

It's a simple question. It shouldn't send you spiraling, but it does.

"Yeah," you reply shortly.

He tops the drink off with soda water and lime and slides it over to your side of the bar, "Well I'm sure that's by choice," he says giving you a courteous wink and nod.

You can't help but scoff. Of course, it's not by choice. There is someone you want to be here with.

Then as if your thoughts willed it so, breaking news broadcasts on the screen interrupting the mundane sitcom. "Pro hero Dynamite at work to subdue a villain," the live feed reads.

You can't stop the way your pupils dilate, and your fingers tighten around your glass.

The helicopter filming the scene struggles to keep up with his movements, but there he is exploding through the city effortlessly giving the villain the fight of their life.

Cops attempt to keep pedestrians at bay, but the crowd is excited to see Dynamite working in action. The group of onlookers only grows as more pull out their phones to record.

He's so famous now.

It happened overnight.

One moment it was just you and Katsuki, and now, he's a pro hero known all over.

He's not Katsuki or Kacchan anymore, he's Dynamite, and everywhere you turned people wanted to take him away from you.

And it worked?

You hadn't heard from Katsuki in over a month. Texts left on read, memes left without even an emoji.

He's busy, you told yourself. Being a pro hero was taking a lot out of him. You couldn't expect much, you had to be supportive. Yet, you couldn't shake the lingering thoughts that grew as more time passed with dead air between you two.

Had he met someone else?

Bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip, you realized your hands had begun to shake.

As famous as he was now, he had come across many new faces. Fancy galas and expensive dinner parties. Who were you to complete anymore? A small-town friend left long in the shadowed past of his new bright and shiny life.

No. Surely, he respects you enough to have let you know, right?

He's just busy.

Katsuki lets out an explosion bringing the villain down. The scene erupts into cheers. You watch eyes glued to the screen; Katsuki shoves his mask up to his forehead wiping the sweat off his face. Reporters rush to try and get lucky enough to speak to him.

Then it happens.

The universe-altering moment.

It happens fast but you see it in slow motion, every second more painful than the next.

The epitome of a beautiful woman breaks through the crowd, to run and wrap her arms around his neck. Pushing up to her tip toes to press a passionate kiss to his cheek, and he doesn't pull away. He smiles.

A guttural scream that you don't recognize as your own escapes you. Glass flies out of your hand shattering the bar TV.

Whoever she is please, let it be a lie.

Oh man- this song did a number on me. It’s so painfully beautiful. I hope this fic was somewhat what you had in mind. It’s what came out when I sat down to type so I hope you enjoy! Thank you for this request, I missed writing some angst.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @renwei @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @that-one-fangirl69 @pinkpurpledreams

[heavenlyvision]

reverence pairing: bi-han/reader wc: 1.1k warnings: 18+ only, smut, cunnilingus, kind of angsty but not really, afab!gn!reader, no pronouns or y/n used a/n; this was gonna be only horny but then i listened to too many sad songs and now it has the vibes of two very in love people with unspoken feelings... my bad ! <33 MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

It’s early in the morning when you wake, Bi-Han moving around the room, dressing himself for the day has woken you up. He tries to be quiet – and he is – but you’ve developed a keen sense for when he’s trying to leave without bothering you.

Making grabby hands at him, you coax him over, wanting for him to say goodbye properly, he rolls his eyes but obliges and wanders over to you, “Why do I even bother trying to be quiet in the morning?” He sits on the edge of the mattress and leans down to you as you lean up.

Smiling at him, you answer, “I’ve no clue.”

He huffs but pulls you in and holds you close, his large hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back, “I shouldn’t be gone long…”

“…You always say that,” your sleepy voice murmurs against him.

He knows you’re right but he can’t help it, he means it every time he says it though and you know that much. There aren’t any words he can offer you right now, so instead, he tucks his head into your neck and presses soft kisses against your skin. His lips trailing the expanse of your neck, your head dips back to give him more room. They start off innocent, light, a show of affection more than anything else, but he can’t help himself and ends up nipping at your skin, the blunt feel of his teeth pulls a shudder from you, one that Bi-Han relishes in.

Soft sighs pass your lips as he leaves a trail of wet marks, reminders of where he’s been, taking his time with you despite his presence being required elsewhere. Slowly, he makes his way to your face and gently pecks both your cheeks before eventually pressing his lips to yours, his kiss consuming and deep. The words he can’t speak shared in this moment together, all of his feelings for you, his borderline reverence for you, it’s all here, in how he cradles you, in how he kisses you. He’s everything to you and you’re everything to him, you’ve never doubted that.

It's moments like this where you remember why you stay, you stay even when he infuriates you, even when he leaves without saying goodbye, even when he makes decisions you can’t begin to understand. You stay through it all because in moments like this, he reminds you just how much he–

“I revere you,” his forehead rests on yours, his words shock you sightly. Not the content but the suddenness.

You try playing off his abrupt admission, huffing a slight laugh, “Where is Bi-Han and what have you done with him?”

He frowns, “I’m serious.”

As happy as his words make you, they also make you uneasy, “…I know that...”

“My feelings will never change,” he mumbles softly, his lips trailing the side of your face.

“Never?” you whisper in question.

“Never.” He confirms.

His hands wander, exploring your body, slipping under your pyjamas, pulling at your skin and tugging at your clothes. He silently guides you to lay down, shuffling himself back, he takes your pants off and chucks them to some corner of the room. Looking into your eyes, he checks with you, you feel especially vulnerable right now, this moment feels different from any other time before.

Opening your thighs for him, he takes his place between your legs and turns his face to the side, beginning to mark your skin. His pace is slow and reminiscent of worship, his focus completely on where he is right now, never on where he’s going to be next. You don’t whine, you don’t ask him to move, you don’t rush him.

You feel dizzy and light, like you’re drifting as he does as he pleases. His lips are forgiving and undemanding, his tongue wet and adoring. Making his way to your underwear, he presses his face to your core, nosing at your centre. He mouths at your panties, wetting them, licking at you through the material.

Small noises leave you, sighs and bitten back moans, his hand presses into your stomach, holding you down, stopping you from wriggling away from him. Your panties are wet from your arousal and his insistent mouth. The material sticks to your cunt embarrassingly, it doesn’t stop Bi-Han though, he moves both his hands to spread your pussy lips with his thumbs, opening you up from under your panties, and then he goes back to licking at you through them.

The stimulation of your wet underwear rubbing against your clit has your stomach doing flips, your mind not able to concentrate on anything other than how good it feels. He prods his tongue at your pussy hole, meeting resistance and pushing his face in between your legs impossibly closer.

You don’t ask him for more, you don’t ask for anything, you’re pliable and absent, happy to lay here and be worshiped by his mouth. But he’s lost in you, in everything about you, your scent, your taste, your small sighs of pleasure, your willingness, the softness of your thighs beside his ears, in all honesty he isn’t actively thinking anything other than you, only you. Only ever, you.

Needing more from you though, he slips your panties off, finally sick enough of there hinderance to remove them completely. He resumes his position between your legs quickly, missing the warmth of you almost immediately. The feeling of his tongue on you feels sharp, in comparison to the dull pleasure you were receiving beforehand, this feels direct and overwhelming, almost overstimulating.

He doesn’t stop as you wiggle more insistently, just wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you open, not letting you go anywhere. Lapping at your cunt happily, his tongue reverent in its exploration. Your hands tug at the sheets, fingers almost hurting from the grip you have on them, your eyes closed tight against the pleasure running through your bones.

Your thighs shake either side his head, your eyes dazed and thoughts hazy, thoughts filled with him, of your devotion to him. You twitch in his hold, your cunt pulsing with your impending orgasm, a noise rumbles through him, like he’s delighted by your approaching end. Every muscle pulls tight as you cum, a supressed whimper leaving you with it, your head thrown back into the pillows. If you had the ability to, you would be grinding down onto his face but he holds you still and swallows your release, licking at you as you come down. The slurping noises that come from him make your skin hot to the touch.

He stays between your thighs for a few moments after, relishing in your heat, your warmth. But all at once he seems to become cognizant of the fact he’s meant to be elsewhere right about now and crawls up your body to look into your eyes.

“I am devoted to you, wholly, I will always come home,” he promises.

₊˚◦⋆❆⋆◦˚₊

[lintubintu]

Kot Kot Review

I like Kot Kot a lot.

Despite the almost harsh difference between the intro and how the song progresses, it´s not too out there.

The music seems chaotic and structured, is melodic, nostalgic and two-faced more out of necessity than provocation, and it´s ongoing. It spirals.

There is a lovely moodiness to it that seems mature and balanced, deliberately using the intro as a bridge again and repurposing the funky "kot kot" into something that softens into the lighter part of the song. The change of pace is noticeable but not alarming and almost hopeful.

Kot Kot is not a big song nor does it exist to troll. It enjoys being silly with the chicken theme and builds a narrative that can be purposely misunderstood by people who don´t like him.

During my first listen I was a little confused but intrigued by the seemingly contradicting parts that adapt well by the second listen. Pop and Rap evolve from clashing into shaking hands.

It feels a bit like a song nobody would put on an album anymore because it is deemed barely good enough to keep up with its fellow, more popular tunes. It stands on its own where others see a filler track.

Overall, it makes me have more hope for the album now; for it to be an album and not just a compilation of Singles.

I wouldn´t be surprised if this song was the opening number, nor would I be shocked to not find an Intro at all – Kot Kot is an introduction in itself.

From what I understand of the lyrics, it also is the first song of his that makes me want to know more about him as a lyricist.

To start the song of with MAYDAY is a deliberate choice because the song is not what it seems.

It´s soft spoken and not a shrill cry for help but knows of something that already affects the narrator enough that reaching out soon is imminent. It´s a literal stress signal.

The teaser made me think the protagonist in this song was simply sick of being treated like someone doomed to continue staging a party for others.

Relying on translations and interpretations of this song, the protagonist seems to realise that their lifestyle will rather leave them with very little time spent having fun with friends – because even the party-goers have gone to bed earlier than them.

Those that tried to keep up with them may have lost their step and had to give in to their own different schedules, or are worse off for keeping them company. So their company diminishes further.

There might be little life beyond the lifestyle, the sobering thought that solitude is too close within reach for comfort – the time left after work cannot always be shared nor of quality due to their schedule.

A double blow. Real life and bonding has to be spent in time confetti. Throughout it all, the silliness persists.

Rather laughable is the Explicit rating of this song. Was it the Perhana!?

The ending is a jumpscare, them finally being silly, breaking the cycle. But at the same time, it´s a rooster greeting the morning – the protagonist worked the night away.

For a moment, you are relieved the song is over. And then you play it again.

I would love for the upcoming album to be a concept album.

This song seems to divide people in a different way than songs before it did.

Some of you seem puzzled, others more neutral than hateful, none of the dislike so far is really loud.

The timing might be a bit unfortunate – song releases at this hour have the same problems as the protagonist in Kot Kot.

And even if you really don´t like this song, I fell that there will be something on the album that you will like.

It´s ok to not like things and it doesn´t have to be justified.

Still, I am interested to hear what you don´t like about this song because I think it makes for a worthwhile conversation and I like interacting with you.

Let´s do that while we have the time.

[engie-ivy]

(Inspired by @wolfstarmicrofic 's Alternative Universes theme! A sort of combined Performer AU and College AU🙂)

1058 words

Sirius Black's emotional break-up songs are topping the charts all over the world. But hearing those songs everywhere he goes, Remus is about to reach his breaking point.

With His Song

Home is where the heart is,

But it's not the concrete, nor the stone,

Not the room you sit in,

But the smile that lights it up.

Not the bed you sleep in,

But the heartbeat besides your own.

Home is where the heart is,

But it's not necessarily a place,

Sometimes, it's tracing the scars on someone's hand,

Sometimes, it's counting the freckles on someone's face.

It's been so long,

Coming home to you,

And did you know,

I could easily move on?

But the truth is,

I just don't want to.

If home is where the heart is,

Then baby, could it be,

That your home is still with me?

Mary lets out a sigh that seems to be coming from somewhere deep inside of her. “My god, I'm going to listen to that song on repeat for the rest of the week,” and after a moment she adds “potentially the rest of my life.”

“Then you're gonna have to get some headphones,” Remus says. “Because I'm already getting sick of hearing it.”

Mary gasps and clutches her chest. “Blasphemy!”

Remus gives her an unimpressed look. “I don't think you're using that word right.”

“‘Irreverence toward something considered sacred or inviolable’,” Mary states unfazed. “So yes, the perfect description of you insulting Sirius Black's music.”

Emmeline nods emphatically.

Remus sighs. “I'm not saying it's a bad song,” he says. “Just that I'm getting tired of hearing it everywhere, all the time.”

Mary opens her mouth to retort, but Emmeline interjects.

“I do sort of relate. It has gotten a painful tinge to hear the song, now that I know I won't be seeing Sirius Black perform it live…”

“You didn't get tickets for his show?” Marlene asks.

“No,” Emmeline sighs miserably. “I'm on the waiting list. Number 329.”

“Not as bad as Hestia. She's number 1550 or something.”

Emmeline shrugs. “In the end, it makes no difference. 329 or 1550, neither one of us is going to the concert. I mean, 329 people will have to die, and I don't reckon I'd be that lucky…”

“Emmeline!” Lily scolds.

“Well, that's the only excuse for not going to a Sirius Black concert, literally being dead,” Mary says. “I'd actually skip my mum’s funeral if I could see him live.”

“Mary!”

“No, no, Lils,” Emmeline says. “You don't know Mary's mum. If Mary were to miss out on seeing Sirius Black for her funeral, she'd actually come back from the death to haunt her.”

Mary nods. “She's a huge fan. Not going to a Sirius Black concert would be disrespecting her memory.” She glances over at Remus. “She might have some things to say as well if she hears that my actual roommate has openly disrespected Sirius Black’s music.”

Remus sticks out his tongue. “Sue me.”

“As soon as they create a law that makes depreciating Sirius Black illegal, which they should, I will!”

“Anyhow,” Emmeline says. “I haven't heard Sirius Black's voice for almost five minutes and I'm getting withdrawal symptoms,” and she reaches out to put the record back on.

Remus gets up to his feet. “That's my cue to leave.”

“You don't have to, Remus,” Lily says quickly. “If you really don't want us to, we won't put on his music. We value your company more than listening to Sirius Black.”

“Says who? Ow!” Emmeline rubs her shin where Lily kicked her.

Remus smiles at Lily. “Thanks, Lils, but it's okay. I have a paper I need to work on anyway.”

The moment Remus closes the door to his bedroom, he lets out a sigh that seems to be coming from somewhere deep inside of him.

Then, almost without thinking, he takes out his phone and punches in the number by heart.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line sounds surprised and, dare Remus think, hopeful?

“You have to stop doing this,” Remus hears himself say. “No,” he then corrects himself. “You don't have to do anything. I'm asking you. Please stop doing this.”

“Remus, what are you talking about?” He seems to be walking away from something– A promo event? A fancy dinner? An exclusive party?– as Remus can hear the voices in the background grow softer. Remus feels a brief hint of satisfaction; no matter how big the event he's at, how important the people he's with, when Remus calls, he gets up and walks away to talk to him, but Remus quickly corrects himself, because it's not like that anymore.

“It's killing me,” Remus admits, pressing a hand against his forehead. “I understand, but… God, it's killing me.”

“Rem,” Sirius, because of course it's Sirius, says gently. “You're still not making much sense. What are you trying to say? Why are you suddenly calling me? Why… Why now?”

“Your latest releases,” Remus says, as he starts pacing the room, though he can barely take two steps before he reaches the opposite wall. It's rather telling of the difference between them, he can't help but think. Sirius undoubtedly in some grand building surrounded by dozens of people who would fall over themselves to cater to his every whim, and Remus hiding out in his eight square meter bedroom cluttered with textbooks and scribbled notes. “I get why you do it. I'm probably terribly biased,” he lets out a brief laugh. “But I think the songs you wrote when we were together, and even after we just broke up, are your best songs, so I get that you would want to release them, to share them with the world and show everyone once again just how bloody talented you are. And you have every right. They're your works, your creations. But gods, Sirius, I can't pretend anymore.”

“Pretend,” Sirius repeats, his voice almost a whisper, and Remus lets it all out.

“I can't pretend anymore that hearing those songs everywhere I go all the damn time doesn't make me want to die! That it doesn't just break me, to hear your voice sing those words, knowing what they once meant, and knowing that they don't mean that anymore! That you don't mean that anymore.”

“Remus,” Sirius interrupts sharply, and Remus immediately stops talking as Sirius speaks. “Do you really think I could sing those words like that, if I didn't still feel that way?”

And Remus’ breath catches in his throat.

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile V

<- Previous Chapter

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: I think I wrote more for this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter dear readers. Let me know what you think about it.

“ You look.. dishearten, my friend”

You sighed as you looked at your friend: Alice. She was one of the first female friends you made 6 years ago at school. She was one of the sweetest girls you have ever met. She had long blonde locks with beautiful sapphire eyes, her voice sounded like a siren’s song. You were proud to be her friend, almost all of the boys who laid their eyes upon her were almost falling to their knees ready to propose to her. 

“ I have no idea what to do for Alastor’s birthday.” you sighed “ no idea of a present.”

Alice clapped in her hand with a big grin and you couldn’t help but scoff at her radiance. She always loved when you were talking about yours and Alastor’s relationship. You didn’t really know why but she wanted to meet him.  Well… yes, you knew why. Alastor was … He was…

“ How old is he ?” she asked you as she drank her cup of tea.

“ Well, he is going to turn seventeen. So I want to make him something special.” you sighed once again as you laid your cup of hot chocolate on the table. 

“ How long have you known each other ? “

“ Almost eight years.” you smiled fondly. Eight years. You’ve been friends with Alastor for eight years and you have loved every single year. You looked into your cup of hot chocolate, the colour reminded you of Alastor’s eyes. Alastor wasn’t a little boy anymore, he had become taller. Taller than you, his frame was more muscular thanks to his hunting trip, he had become more teasing, sneakier, and cunnier but the biggest problem was… He had become so handsome. He lost his chubby cheeks, now his jaw was sharp, his eyes were even more intense than before when he was interested in something, he was–

“ Should I let you alone with your chocolate~?” you jerked your head toward Alice who had a teasing smile on her lips. You chuckled while shaking your head, blushing a little. You daydreamed again ! “ Why do you not want me to meet him, I really want to meet your beau, you know? I have never seen you like this, never did someone make you react like this.”

“ Listen… He is.. an important childhood friend and he can be … intense sometimes. I don’t think you could handle him.” you said as you sipped your drink. You didn’t feel comfortable making Alastor and Alice meet. You knew that Alastor could be an ass sometimes and Alice was too sweet to … understand it ? “ But back to the topic, what should I give him for his birthday …”

“ From what you told me, he seems to really care about you, and with this war going on, I’m sure he’d rather you kept your money.” she smiled at you as you bit your lips. That was the problem. Alastor was going to be 17 years, next year he would turn 18. That means he … would be taken to war right? You felt yourself getting paler as many scenarios went inside your head. 

The only good news was that his father had been dragged to war, unfortunately just like yours, meaning that Alastor and Marie were finally alone in their house.  After the hunting’s trip’s accident eight years ago, you’ve never trusted his father again. Many times you went to Marie’s house and each time her husband was home you could feel the tension lingering in the air. When he was here, you and Alastor would go outside, play with Husker, play tag or hide and seek. 

Alastor never really talked about his father, but you could sense that he hated him. But you didn’t know why and one day, you tried to push on the subject, you wanted to help him in any way possible. 

This was the first time Alastor had raised his voice at you. 

“ Are you okay?” you lifted your head toward your friend. “ He won’t go to war, from what the paper says, it seems like it’s going to end soon!” she smiled at you as she took your hand in hers. You sighed, praying that you would never have to send Alastor to war. Alastor has tried to reassure you by saying that if he were to go to war, he would be an amazing soldier.

War is like a big hunt.

“ Yes, yes… I think I’m going to go home. I need to finish some homework and I don’t want to leave my mother alone.”

“ Did Delilah steal your work again?”

“ I think, but who cares, I’ll just do it again… Well, your beautifulness, might I walk you home?” you bowed as she laughed and you began to walk toward the richest quartier of New Orleans. You gossiped with Alice about what happened during this school’s week. She was so sure John was interested in pursuing a relationship with you. You rolled your eyes at her, she always liked love’s story. 

You did too, you weren’t going to lie, but when you thought about your future with a husband… You thought about–

“ Well, here we are! Are you sure you don’t want to stay here, I made cupcakes this morning!” she exclaimed with a big grin. You smiled at her, saying you really needed to go home. 

You waved her goodbye and walked home. You tried to make your way home quickly, if you were lucky, a letter from your father would be waiting for you at home. You had prayed each day that once the stupid war was over, he would come back alive. You opened your house’s door and went inside, hurrying toward the living room.  Did your father sended you a letter ?

“ Look who’s here~”

You turned around with a big smile, feeling your heart thumb loudly in your chest. How could he make you react like this everytime?

“ Alastor !” You hugged him before kissing him on both cheeks. Alastor had stopped flinching when you were touching him, even more surprising , he was very clingy with you. Always being in your personal space like he owned it. 

“ Seems like someone drank hot chocolate but didn't bother wiping her mouth.” he wiped your bottom lips with his gloved hand. You flushed as he stared at your mouth, keeping his finger on your lips. You could see your own reflection in his glasses. Unlike before, you couldn’t read Alastor as easily as when he was a child, unless you were alone together and mister decided to be “vulnerable” with you.  But you… You always felt safe and most of all, you felt seen.

Alastor always had a glint in his eyes when he was looking at you. You’ve never seen him look at something or someone else like this… And you liked it. Was it selfish to crave his attention… maybe not. You both were friends, special friends, childhood friends… But, Oh Lord, sometimes you craved more, but you didn’t know what. If Alastor was looking at you like this as a friend, how would he look at his future wife? 

“ Oh my dear, you look starving.”

You gasped as you took a step back while Alastor was smirking at you, his arms folded behind his back. You stuck your tongue to him, like you used to, you were maybe a young lady now, but with Alastor you were… yourself.

“ Young lady ! Didn’t I tell you to stop sticking your tongue ! I’m sorry, Alastor.” said your Mother while Marie, who was just behind her, was laughing behind her hand. “ Good Lord, when you both are together you are back to being children, God preserve me.” she sighed as she went into the kitchen.

“ Yes, listen to your Mother. Keep your tongue inside your pretty mouth.” teased Alastor as he sat on the sofa with his usual mocking smile. “ Now my dear, do you have news to share with me?”

You sat on the other side of the sofa and began to gossip as you usually did. There weren’t any microphones or notes like when you were children, but it was the same as your broadcast like you used to do in his bedroom. Just you and Alastor, gossiping about your daily life.

“ And then Alice said that John was interested in me but I think he just–”

“ Should I be alarmed ? It’s not the first time I heard this name ?” teased Alastor as he took off his glasses to clean them with a tissue from his chest pocket.

“ Which one? Alice? She wants to meet you…” you mumbled and tensed when you saw Alastor’s smile.

“ Well, why didn't you say so! I would be delighted to meet the darling that blesses my sweet little friend with her presence when I’m not here!” he exclaimed as he stood up. You jumped off the sofa as you forced him to sit back down. 

“ No Alastor !”

“ Oh come on my dear, do you want to keep me all to yourself ? How bold.” he smiled as he watched you struggle to keep him sitting. You groaned and decided to just sit on his lap to keep him from standing up. So there you were on your knees on each side of his thighs. You heard him inhale deeply, his hand gripping the sofa. Don’t blushed, don’t blushed, don’t blushed…

“ How bold, indeed, dear…” he stared at you, without his glasses. There it was. That glint. The one who made you… Feeling strange. You didn’t know if you were scared or…or what? There was something lingering in the air... He opened his mouth but you cut him off.

“ What do you want for your birthday ?”

His body tensed for a second, staring straight at you before he relaxed himself and laughed, tilting his head backward. He shook his head as he rolled his eyes.

“ Well, just like always. Celebrating with you and Mother. What could I ask for more?” he smiled at you but as you tried to stand up from his thighs, he grabbed your waist and pulled you near his face. “ Should we invite John?”

“ Who–? Wait, John? Why?” you frowned as you looked at his smile which seemed tense. He was grabbing your waist tighter now. His grip should hurt you but.. it was oddly comfortable. Why did he suddenly change–?

“ Wait… Are you jealous?” you smiled as you saw his smile twitched. “ Yes, yes, you are. Haha !” you laughed hoping you sounded mocking, but even to your ears, you almost sounded pleased, relieved. You squeaked as he pinned you to the sofa and began to tickle you. You squirmed as your laughter was getting louder and louder, gasping for air.

“ Do you remember the rules, dear?” he asked with a cunning smile, knowing perfectly that you couldn’t answer right now. “ Rule number one:  Never drop your guard.” he stopped tickling you “ Go on dear. Rule number two?” he tilted his head toward you, staring at your red and teary face.

“ You are the strongest here.” you gasped as you tried to wipe your tears that threatened to stream down your face but Alastor holded both of your wrist in one hand.

“ Rule number three.” 

“ I give up…” you breathed as you closed your eyes. You felt his head next to yours, his lips almost touching your ears. 

“ Give up yourself to me.”

Your eyes opened suddenly, feeling your body being hot. You looked at Alastor who was above you but he seemed confused. He tilted his head as he watched your expression.

“ Are you okay, you look almost as red as Eamon ?” he laughed at you as he stood up, putting his glasses back on.

“ What did you just say?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper.

“... You look almost as red as Eamon?” you shook your head as you sat up and stared at him. He seemed really confused, did you imagine this? Is it what you wanted to hear? You groaned as you hid your face in your head, it was because of Alice’s stories, your mind was playing tricks on you now! “ By the way dear, it seems like you have a letter.” he said as he held a letter to you. It was from your father ! 

You took the letter from his hand with a happy grin, the letter was already open, surely your mother, and read what your father wanted you to know. He was okay, he missed you but mostly there were rumors about how the war will be soon over. you sighed in relief. Your father would come home. You just knew it. You looked at Alastor who was observing your face.

“ You still have no news from your father?”

“ No, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been killed for insubordination.” he said with detachment as he looked at his nails. You nodded before turning your head toward the entrance where you heard a knock. You stood up and went to open the door and froze.

“ Alice ?”

“ I’ll be quick, you forgot your bag at the coffee shop.” she smiled as she held your bag toward you. 

“ How… But… You went back to the coffee shop?”

“No, no, a gentleman came to my door and asked if the bag was mine.”

“ Alice… A man came to your door with my bag and you are not worried ? How did he know where you lived ? Does that mean he followed us?” you forced her to enter your house, looking outside “ What does he look like?” You squealed as you were jerked inside the house by your dress. You turned to see Alastor who was staring at you, with a pissed expression, his smile still present.

“ Are you dumb? If there is a man who is following you, why would you show your face, confirming that you are living here.” he asked you coldly. You closed the door quickly. 

“ The man isn’t here for me, if he is here. He didn’t follow me, he followed her.” you pointed to Alice. “ You can understand that, I mean, look at her.” 

You watched as Alastor looked at Alice. You couldn’t see his face but you saw Alice’s who seemed to try to make herself even smaller than she was. He shook her hand with his usual charming smile you guessed.

“ Quite a pleasure to be meeting you, I’ve heard a lot of you. You seemed like a clever woman, I would have never guessed that you would walk down the street with a soon to be stalker at your feet, bringing this man to my dear friend’s door!” 

“ N-nice to be meeting you, sir. I’m.. I’m sorry..?” Alice stared at you, begging you with her eyes to do something. You sighed, you have told her Alastor was intense.

“ No, no, No need to be sorry. It is not your fault, but the gentleman’s one. You both shouldn’t stay outside alone.”

“ Alastor, maybe we are overthinking. Maybe he was a nice gentleman–”

“ Oh my friend, hush.” he turned to Alice “ What did he look like?”

You watched as Alice described the man’s appearance. You were dumbfounded. Did Alastor just shush you? You crossed your arms on your chest as you pouted, watching both of your friends talking. They looked good together… You bit your lips. No. Alice wouldn’t be able to stay an entire day with Alastor. You stomped your foot on the floor and you clapped your hand together.

“ Well, dear friends of mine, go into the living room, I'll go with some drinks.”

“ No, no, I won’t bother you any longer. I’m going home.” 

“ I’ll accompany you.Stay here.”

You stared in shock as Alastor went into the kitchen where your mothers were. Did he just say what you thought he said? Alice came closer to you and winked at you.

“ He seems like a good man, keep it up.”

Alastor came back with his jacket on, he opened the door for Alice and left without kissing you goodbye. You stared at the closed door. Did Alastor fall for Alice, like every boy she met? You ran to your room, and jumped on your bed, burying your face in your pillow. Did he really leave, leaving his mother? you threw your pillow on the wall.

“ To hell with him ! I don’t need him.” you said as you wiped the tears that you haven’t even felt falling down your cheeks. You went to the bathroom, ignoring your mother and Marie’s question about your teary eyes. You washed up, put on a nightgown and went into your bed. You stared at the wall before closing your eyes. You couldn’t fall asleep, you were imaginiting Alice and Alastor walking down the road, hands in hands. You felt tears whelming up in your eyes. You didn’t care! You didn’t! 

You didn’t know how long you kept thinking about it but you were still awake when you felt a hand stroking your cheeks. You sighed , nuzzling your cheek against the hand. You guessed your mother was coming to comfort you even though she didn’t know why you were upset.

“ Dear friend, why are you crying?”

You sat up immediately and stared at the person in front of you.

“ Alastor…Why are you here?” you asked as you held the cover against you. You didn’t want him to see you like this. Crying over him. You were too proud. And you weren’t crying for him! 

“ Well, I came to give you your kiss, dummy.” he approached his face toward you, staring at your eyes. “ But why are you crying? Is it because of the man?” his eyes went cold, his smile widened but there was no warmth like usual. He seemed.. menacing. “ Did he come here? Did he touch you? Where?”

 You just stared at him as tears were falling down your cheeks. It seemed like seeing you cry made him more and more upset.

“ This bastard was here? I fucking walked your little friend home so I could see if someone was lingering around here and that bastard had the nerve to come and–”

You didn’t know what came over you, you covered his face with your blanket and you kissed the place where the blanket covered his lips. He froze. You pressed your lips against the tissue and then slowly, stepped back.  You stared at him, his face still covered…

“ No.. I was just… afraid that you would leave me for Alice.” you whispered looking at his frame. Seeing that he didn’t remove the blanket, you understood that… he knew that both of you would not be talking about what is happening right now. “ She is a beautiful lady, and she is interesting, sweet… a perfect lady you would say.”

“ Don’t put words in my mouth dear.” You chuckled as he moved his hand toward your cheek, wiping your tears away. “ So, you thought she was going to take me away from you? How absurd. Nothing could tear me away from you, not even yourself.”

You stopped breathing at this confession, your heart beating even stronger. You didn’t know what to do with all of your feelings. You were just so relieved that Alastor saw your friendship like you did.

“ Can I take off your blanket now?”

You laughed and uncovered his face, his warm smile was back, his glint in his eyes even more present. You looked away, fidgeting with your nightgown. You needed to erase the tension quickly.

“ You look like an absolute mess my dear friend! I’ll let you rest and please, do get your beauty sleep unless you want to crack every mirror you shall see.” he laughed as you tried to hit him with a pillow. He kissed you on the forehead, giggling before leaving your bedroom. “ See you soon, doll~!”

You fell on your bed with a big smile and hid your face into your pillow.

You didn’t know what happened but it made your feel better.

Tag List: lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie

[ldrfanatic]

Slytherin Boys as 1989 Songs

+ bonus! the slytherin boys as romance tropes

I decided to shake this one up a bit and do all happy love songs

here's 1989 (tv ofc); which taylor swift album should i do next?

(mattheo riddle, draco malfoy, theo nott, lorenzo berkshire)

slytherin boys masterlist nav

mattheo riddle as I Know Places

best lyric(s) - "let them say what they want we won't here it" + "love's a fragile little flame it could burn out" + "just grab my hand and don't ever drop it"

trope - enemies to lovers :)

mattheo w a crush - in love, mattheo is somewhere in the middle between being sappy and just straight up insulting you. not like calling you ugly or anything but like "damn i didn't know it was possible to mess up such an easy spell" like kind of teasing. he's one of those guys that will be mean at first and then be like playfully mean and then finally, will start being nice to you but only sometimes. he just thinks you're adorable when you're angry.

mattheo as a boyfriend - now as a boyfriend, mattheo still teases the hell out of you but god forbid literally anyone else does bc he'll kill them. like actually. also the pair of you go through a little bit of a rough patch during the war and he keeps telling you that you have to stay way from him but secretly, he's really happy that you never actually listen to him because he doesn't know what he would do without you. he just kind of ignores all the whispers and hogwarts becomes your guys' like safe little happy love bubble.

draco malfoy as Out of the Woods

best lyric(s) - "the rest of the world was black and white, but we were in screaming color" + "when you started crying baby i did too, when the sun came up i was looking at you" + "I walked out I said 'i'm setting you free' but the monsters turned out to be just trees"

trope - everyone can see it except for you

draco w a crush - I think draco would be the kind of guy that actively avoided his crush. like if you were sitting in the very front of transfigurations, he was sitting in the absolute furthers corner in the back. If you were going on the hogsmeade trip, he was begging his friends would leave him to simmer in his affections for you. he's just so nervous and so certain you'll dislike him that he'd rather not talk to you at all. when he finally does work up the courage, he's extremely happy and like eternally grateful that you'd give him a chance.

draco as a boyfriend - i do think though that draco is not always the best at communicating just because he always wants everything to be so perfect and he doesn't want there to be anything that he says that could make you resent him so he'd rather not say anything at all. obv, this doesn't work out well for him cause like... communicating w you is so essential. y'all get into arguments fairly regularly but you always end up making up because he's always just creating those demons in his head and it's almost never that serious.

theodore nott as Suburban Legends

best lyric(s) - "you were so magnetic it was almost obnoxious" + "when you hold me, it holds me together and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever" + "you'd be more than a chapter in my old diaries with the pages ripped out"

trope - hopeless romantic

theo w a crush - I think with a crush theo would be the kind of guy that just simps like a mf. like you need someone to carry your books, he's there, why would you even try to carry them yourself? just let him take care of it. or like, when you're not feeling well and you might need to spend a few days in the hospital wing, while you're sleeping theo sneaks in and leaves the notes for the classes you missed as well as your favorite sweets and flowers. (one time when michael corner made you cry, he beat the snot out of him and then the next day left this huge teddy bear outside your door with the note "y/n, that douchebag sucks. -tn")

theo as a boyfriend - theo's simp nature carries over when he's a bf so he's super freaking caring. he does literally everything for you. he'll brush your hair when you get out of the shower if you ask. or if you're like me and you have like thicker ethnic hair, he'll ask you to show him how to do your hair so that he can do it for you. he's also one of those guys that's like casually dominant. like hand on your lower back in a crowd, opening your doors, reaching up and grabbing things from the top shelf for you. naturally protective in the sense of like he always wants to sleep closest to the door in case something happens and like is also always making sure you eat and get enough water.

lorenzo berkshire as "Slut!"

lyric(s) - "and if i'm gonna be drunk, i might as well be drunk in love" + "and i break down then he's pulling me in. in a world of boys he's a gentleman" + "got love struck went straight to my head"

trope - friends to lovers

enzo w a crush - enzo is the kind of guy who's not afraid to be in love. he actually loves it. he loves having someone to compliment and shower in gifts and win over. where mattheo would tease you, draco would avoid you, and theo would lose himself in you, enzo is the guy who would bring you inexplicable joy and make sure you knew that it was him that was bringing you joy. not to say that he wouldn't do sweet gestures and such but he's the sort of guy that will make you his best friend and then make you fall in love with him.

enzo as a boyfriend - because of this, you and enzo are like those like childhood friends turned lovers type of thing. he just knows you so well and the love between you two comes so easily. he makes it his personal mission to make you smile at least once a day. as your boyfriend, he's just really playful. things like pillow fights and tickle fights. he's also that boyfriend that will do all those little stupid tiktok trends with you but like really energetically and not just like half-assed bc if it's gonna make you smile, he's going all in.

---

4.25.24

wc 1k

taglist @moonlightreader649 @svt-dk97 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess

[042502]

Owen // C. Sturniolo x Reader.

SYNOPSIS: You have a small feeling of jealousy after seeing your boyfriend give guitar lessons to a pretty girl, he will fuck you hard to give you security.

WARNINGS: Jealous reader, Chris guitarist, rough sex, delicious touch, music band, among others.

NOTES: My first language is not English, so if you find any grammatical errors you already know why :) MASTERLIST!!

You made your way to the front row, getting a clear view of the stage, with a nearly empty beer. After a few more minutes, the announcer introduces the band once more and the curtains slowly rise. He sees the drummer banging his sticks yelling "3, 2, 1!" and the music starts playing.

You were sweating from all the jumping, but it was still fun. Sure, the people around you bumped into you and at times made you want to yell at them, but it wasn't anything too dramatic. Chris managed to spare a couple of glances at you, nothing out of the ordinary. Oh and you couldn't forget the flashing lights and smoke coming out of the sides every time the tempo dropped, it really was a great performance.

After a few more songs, the band called it a night and everyone returned to their groups. You checked your phone for messages from your father, but that attention was quickly interrupted by a group of girls chatting behind you.

"Ugh, Chris is getting hotter and hotter!"

"I know, I'm dying to talk to him, but he's always in that room."

"I'm sure if you make a move towards him he'll bite you, you're super sexy!"

"Yeah! Believe me, He will sleep with any girl who talks to him, it worked for me!"

"Wait seriously? Girl, I don't believe you!"

"Are you serious? Show me the bracelet!"

You heard the girl in question jingling around the bracelet, that damn bracelet. It made your blood boil, it was so hard not to hit this girl. How could it be so easy? Why did he have to sleep with almost every girl here?

Before you could continue listening to these comments, you ran to the band's private room to join them.

"Hey! Did you like the performance?" Nate asked you, blowing a cloud of smoke in your face.

"Yes, it was definitely one of your best." You laughed nervously and there was Chris, sitting with a girl. Before you thought twice, you walked up to him and gave him a nasty look.

"Ma, this is lynn"

"Lynn...?"

"The girl I give guitar lessons to is a bartender here."

The girl was super hot, enough to worry you. He stood up to be at your eye level and smiled at you:

"Hello! Nice to meet you! Your boyfriend is really talented and a great teacher".

"Ahhh yes, it sure is!" You masked your face with a gentle smile and watched her move out of your sight so you could be alone with Chris. He motioned for you to sit on his lap and you obeyed, his hand moving up your thigh.

"Ma... Do you want to smoke outside... take a break from everything here? I know you said it's okay, but maybe some grass will calm you down."

"Sure, I'm fine, I promise Chris." You lied "That Lynn girl seems nice... and strangely close to you."

"I knew it, you're jealous."

"I am not."

"Ma she's just a friend, don't get any ideas."

"If you say so."

"Hey look at me."

You turn your head to look at Chris, his blue eyes practically glowing under the dim lights of the room.

"Nothing is happening, believe me", He reaffirmed with a sincere look, now moving his hand to the back of his neck. Trust him, he says, I have nothing to worry about.

"It's ok, I'll do it" You smiled and found your lips with his.

"Be quiet! My dad is going to listen to us"

"Like I give a shit"

You laughed uncontrollably and the two of them burst into your room. You desperately clung to his clothes so he could take them off and he mirrored your actions. You lay on your back in nothing but your pink lace panties, being attacked by Chris's wet kisses. Your breathing grew deeper by the second as he caressed your breasts while kissing you hungrily. He began to gently pinch your nipples between his warm fingers as he licked and bit at your tongues, your low moans working as fuel for him.

After managing to leave hickeys all over your neck, he pressed his aching cock against your clothed clit, growing impatient with the idea of fucking you mercilessly.

"I want it... Chris" you whined, desperately clinging to him for as much contact as possible.

"What do you want, ma? Tell me," he growls, his voice husky and deep, his fingers hooking into your underwear.

"You, all of you"

You watch Chris smile seductively, dragging the flat of his tongue across your abdomen.

"How much do you love me...?" She teased, stretching her grip on your soaked panties.

"Really fucking bad" You moaned, and he kept his eyes on you as he took off your thong.

"Someone's wet" He chuckled as you felt his thumb press against your heat. Chris lowered his head and his thighs closed around the sides of his face.

You shuddered once you felt him kiss your folds a few times before eating you out, quickly swirling his tongue up and down and around your clit.

You were seeing stars, you grabbed a fistful of his black hair and humped his face in an attempt to come.

"Yes, yes~" You bit your lip feeling your face heat up with so much pleasure.

He grabbed your thighs to steady himself and began sucking on your clit, making loud popping sounds. You were too overwhelmed to even try to shut him up and instead let him do his magic.

He drew a moan from you once he stopped eating your pussy and buried his knuckles into the bed, lining himself up with your entrance. Your hands reach out to caress her cheeks, giving her a smile that made her cheeks redden.

"Can.."

And it was like he read your mind in an instant.

"yes"

"Owen~ Fuck!" You moaned as he suddenly slammed into you. He slid in almost effortlessly, given how wet you were. Hearing his name come out of your mouth drove him crazy and turned him on even more.

You felt his length brush against your velvety walls, and he looked at you as you rolled your eyes. You spread his legs wider so he could move his hips forward and hit yours.

The bed creaked, your skin slapped against his, and both of your pants were all you could hear. Your body would go numb and limp every time he touched your cervix. He quickly found your weak spot, making you meow shamelessly.

"Right there, ma?"

"Just there, Owen"

He began abusing your sweet spot, hitting you like you were all he had left. He was also starting to make noise with her moaning, which was weird. You made sure to keep your eyes on him and vice versa as you placed a hand on his face. He rests her head on your hand, drilling his cock deeper, beads of sweat gathering on her forehead.

"I'm coming, Owe... Can I please?" She pleaded at this point, unable to form proper sentences.

"Say it another time"

"Owen"

"Again"

"Owen~ oh my god... I can't, I can't"

"Cum for me, baby"

You arched your back, letting the orgasm course through your entire body. He pulled out too and came onto your stomach, throwing his head back and moaning softly. He held your trembling legs, leaving a trail of kisses all over your body and to your lips. Chris took a washcloth and cleaned you before pulling up his boxers and getting into your bed.

You hugged him under the covers, your fingers brushing his cold skin.

"Chris..." you murmured his name.

"Owen is fine, for tonight." He says and you hummed with a small smile, tracing a line down his chest.

Say.

Say it or you'll regret it

"I love you, Owen"

NOTES: Remember to hit the heart and share it with your friends! Thanks for reading^^ If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment!

TAGLIST: @luverboychris @alexandernvr @prisciliin @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @hotreaderliin @tillies33ssss @sturnioloxlver

[girlkisser13]

Okay but, taking the pjo + hoo characters to the eras tour, how would it go? (Annabeth is a midnights enjoyer so true)

warnings: eras tour setlist spoilers

a/n: hey guys!!! let me know if i should do a second part or a third part but with minor characters.

annabeth chase

annabeth is 100% a midnights stan. she LOVES "you’re on your own kid". she's also a folklore and evermore stan (because of the high vocabulary). she's a closeted swiftie because she got bullied for listening to her when she was younger. when you're going to the concert with her, she definitely devises a strategy to beat the merch lines. at the concert, she wouldn't sing/yell the lyrics with you but she'd have no problem lip syncing along to the music.

annabeth is a devoted swiftie. she loves deciphering all of taylor's easter eggs and analyzing her genius lyricism. she's the swiftie who you wait for to analyze taylor's newest album so that you know what she's singing about and all of the references that she makes lmao. she absolutely slayed her analysis of ttpd and ttpdta.

frank zhang

frank is by no mean a swiftie but after you introduced him to songs like, "the archer" and "this is me trying", our boy was converted into one. i feel like frank would be a nonchalant swiftie, he wouldn't follow what she was doing 24/7 and he wouldn't like obsess over what she's going to do next. frank is soooo speak now coded (i will not he taking any questions).

frank is at the eras tour for the vibes. he’ll sing along to the songs that he knows. he’s also the designated merch holder. he’d probably dress up as joe (the hat and the denim jacket, iykyk). i feel like he’d enjoy watching the film more than going to the concert because of the difference in atmospheres. however, he still has a great time at the concert.

grover underwood

grover is a evermore stan fr. he enjoys the nature aesthetic and vibe that evermore gives off. he talks shit to anyone who thinks that evermore is her worst album. he’s only at the concert to have a good time and isn’t stressing about the surprise songs or anything like that. however, he lost his shit when taylor opened evermore with "‘tis then damn season" and when she sang "tolerate it" (it’s his favorite song).

hazel levesque

initially, hazel wasn’t a swiftie but just because taylor didn’t exist during her time. but after piper and leo introduced her to her music, hazel was converted into a swiftie. she’s a fearless and speak now stan.

hazel would be too shy to scream or yell the lyrics with you but she’d happily lip sync along to the songs that she knows. her favorite part of the concert was dressing up. the two of you spend the whole night singing, dancing, and laughing with one another.

jason grace

jason is not a swiftie but he could be converted into one if you were. he’s a folkevermore stan fr. he also thoroughly enjoyed ttpd and ttpdta. like frank, he’s definitely a more nonchalant swiftie but he would enjoy listening to your rants and predictions on what she’s going to do next.

he would dress up as the heartbreak prince to your miss americana. he would try his hardest to learn all of the lyrics to her songs so that he could sing it with you but because her discography is so vast, he printed out sheets with the lyrics on them so that he could scream her lyrics with you. he’d definitely propose to you during “love story" (if the two of you were in the that stage in your relationship).

we all know that jason emits husband energy and is a natural gentleman. so after the concert you know that that man is carrying you out of there because your legs hurt from dancing and would immediately make you some tea when you get back if you lost your voice too. he would also go and get any merch that you wanted during the concert so that you wouldn’t miss anything. like frank, jason is also at the eras tour for the vibes but he still has a great time and is thankful that he gets to enjoy this experience with you!!!

leo valdez

leo's a swiftie fr. piper introduced him to her music and they listen to her new albums together. he excessively hates all of her ex-boyfriends that treated her poorly (joe j, john, jake, etc.). he’s also 100% red coded but i feel like he also likes 1989.

leo would go all out on his eras tour outfit. he would create a unique and funny outfit or he would go as lasik taylor. he would happily join in with singing/yelling the lyrics with you. he definitely fangirls at every single song change. his favorite song to sing is all too well (10 minute version). piper also teaches him all of the chants so that he can impress you.

nico di angelo

like hazel, nico wasn’t a swiftie at first because obviously, taylor didn’t exist during the era that he lived in. but after will and piper introduced him to her music, he got converted into a swiftie. he’s a folkevermore stan fr (but more evermore than folklore). at the concert, nico would be too shy to sing the songs and he’d probably lip sync along to the lyrics when he thinks no one’s looking. he’d dress up as the reputation era just so he could wear black. he got a bracelet from someone and now wears it every single day. like frank, he’d prefer to watch the film compared to going to the concert just because he’s scared of big crowds.

percy jackson

like annabeth, percy’s a closeted swiftie because he got bullied for listening to her when he was younger. percy is a 1989 and lover stan. he’s 100% a "me!" and "you need to calm down" lover. he also LOVES taylor’s ovulation songs. (false god, dress, i can see you, etc.).

he goes all out for his eras tour outfit and probably dresses up wearing an outfit that taylor wore once and expects everyone to know when she wore it. like leo, percy fan girls at every single song change and probably screams the lyrics to her songs louder than you do.

piper mclean

piper is a HUGE swiftie. she's a pop girlie so naturally, she's a 1989 stan. i headcanon that she's a hopeless romantic so she's also a reputation and lover stan. for the longest time, she didn't believe that taylor and joe broke up. (they could never make me hate you joe!!!) she absolutely lost it when taylor annoyed 1989 tv.

the two of you guys went all out for your eras tour outfits and would probably coordinate outfits or do a cute couples outfit. she definitely gets you guys tickets in the pit where the two of you spend the whole time dancing and singing/yelling the lyrics to every single song. piper knows every single chant too (1 2 3 lgb). the two of you spent months making friendship bracelets to trade with everyone and at the end of the night, you guys traded enough bracelets to the point that they go up to your elbows. she definitely experienced gay panic during the vigilante shit choreography.

reyna ramírez-arellano

reyna is SOO speak now coded (better than revenge 👀). she’s also a reputation stan. if kanye west has a million haters reyna is one of them. if he has one hater it’s her. if he has no haters, she’s dead. reyna avila ramírez-arellano hates kanye west with a passion.

reyna would dress up as the reputation era and would probably coordinate her outfit with nico. at first, reyna would be too shy to sing along to the songs but after you danced with her a few times she began to loosen up and she ended twirling you around and softly singing along with you.

will solace

will is obviously a debut and fearless stan. i feel like he prefers old taylor over new taylor but he's still a swifitie regardless. he definitely cried when he found out that taylor didn’t dedicate a section of songs for debut on the eras tour. he’d definitely wear a cowboy hat with his eras tour outfit. i feel like he wouldn’t yell the lyrics with you because he’d be scared he’d lose his voice but he’d happily sing along with you.

[redr0sewrites]

ATSV Characters with a Goth S/o

heeeeeyyyyyy guys 😇 *slowly sliding the 100+ REQUESTS in my inbox to the side to make room for a new special interest*

🥀Cw: none, mostly fluff!!!

🥀Pairing(s): Hobie x reader, Miles x reader, Miguel x reader, Spot x reader

Hobie

he would LOVE any type of alternative partner tbh- he just LOOOVESSS that ur goth and will support you 100%

people who go against societies expectations/standards and don't fit in with the norm intrigue him, and your style is probably what piqued his interest in the first place

y'all definitely wear matching fits sorry i don't make the rules- hobie just can't pass up the opportunity to match w you!!! whenever you go to meetings within the spider society he always brings you along, regardless of whether or not you're a spiderperson and hobie loves showing off you and your style

MAJOR "THATS MY PARTNER‼️" VIBES

look me in the eyes and tell me hobia would not absolutely rock some funky eyeliner LIKEEEEE- he def lets you practice on him and will do your makeup for you too!!!

hobie loves thrifting with you, there is no way he isn't a major thrifter and you both definitely DIY a lot of your clothes

HE MAKES YOU GUYS MATCHING PUNK BATTLE VESTS FOR YOUR ANNIVERSARY, AND MAKES SURE THAT IT MATCHES UR AESTHETIC AS WELL!!

hobie absolutely has BLESSED music taste, but while he usually listens to rock, punk, dad rock, or post-punk type of music, i def see him enjoying more gothic/new wave music- especially if u introduce it to him!!!

i see him enjoying bauhaus, sisters or mercy, scary bitches, etc- he'll also give YOU a lot of music recommendations and help to expand ur taste!

hobie would also accompany you to any protests or conventions that you wanted to attend, and would act as your scary dog privileges

YOU TWO DEFINITELY GO TO CONCERTS TOGETHER OMG. I TOTALLY SEE THAT AS A SPONTANEOUS DATE THAT YOU TWO ENJOY A LOT

honestly hobie is a lovely partner to have if you are goth, and he's not only supportive but VERY enthusiastic about your fashion and lifestyle!

Miles

hes such a sweetheart!!! he definitely supports you if you're goth and asks a LOOOT of questions lmao

miles draws you and your fashion a lot, and will def design makeup or eyeliner ideas for you too!!! while ik this is more associated with punk, i also see miles drawing you a few custom patches and stuff like that

your kind of like his muse in a way, and miles just really enjoys sketching you, especially since you have such a unique aesthetic and such cool outfits

HE HAS DEFINITELY GRAFFITIED U SOMEWHERE‼️

he loves watching you get ready and do your makeup. seeing you do perfect eyeliner wings and heavy makeup in general lowkey relaxes him, and he just loves admiring you

im sorry but miles knows absolutely nothing about goth music or culture, ur gonna have to introduce him to a lot of the songs/bands!!!

while i don't think he's huge on the music at first, i think it would grow on him over time. its definitely the type of thing that he loves because YOU love it, and he sees how mu much you enjoy it so he starts listening to it as well so he can talk to you about it

i think his favorite band would be the cure, and his fav songs would either be boys dont cry or the walk (both by the cure- idk why thats so specific but they just kinda fit his vibe yk?)

miles likes holding hands a lot, and he loves when you wear rings or gloves or something along those lines because it just reminds him so much of you! your hands just feel different compared to other peoples and he just loves how unique you are

if you have a lot of piercings, miles would definitely ask about them or buy you specific jewelry for piercings!!!!

overall, very very cute and supportive about your style!!! (he lowkey gives bi wife energy, and iyk what in talking ab then ily mwah)

Miguel

he's pretty indifferent to your style at first, i don't see him as the type to judge much based on appearances. its your personality that really throws him for a loop, and a part of him admires your dedication to making yourself look how you want to look and truly living to be your best self, regardless of what others think

if you think miles knows nothing about being goth then be prepared for miguel bc he knows NOTHINGGGG- no music, no history, no political views, zero, zilch, nada, goose egg

if he cares about you i do see him being intrigued about your style, and once you two are officially dating is when he'll show more interest in your personal fashion sense

he strikes me as the type to like, NEVER listen to music, so he literally only listens to the music you like!!! he does find himself occasionally humming the tune of some strawberry switchblade song or casually listening to a siouxsie and the banshees song while he works, and over time you influence him a LOT with your music taste. he definitely associates any and all goth music with YOU, and that's probably why he starts enjoying it.

he's a "hand on you at all times" type of guy, and while he is rarely touchy with others, miguel is definitely keeping you close. your fashion makes that convenient for him, and he loves pulling you into a kiss by grabbing onto your belt loop or something of the sort

miguel loves how you look with and without makeup on and isn't afraid to tell you that, however, he really likes it if you incorporate his colors or color scheme into your makeup one day. he'll never admit it, but you keep catching him admiring you with the smallest smirk on his face every few seconds

if anyone ever gave u shit for what you wear and how you dress, especially someone in the spider society, you'd practically have to restrain miguel from drop kicking them across nueva york- he doesn't want anyone to be rude to you , and while he knows you can stand up for yourself, he just gets protective at times

Spot

goth? whats that???

he's lowkey such a nerd, and spends too much time being science-y and planning on how to beat spiderman to actually get caught up on fashion

spot doesn't know how he pulled you tbh, but he appreciates you nonetheless!!! he thinks you and your aesthetic are something to be admired, and will unabashedly tell EVERYONE he knows about you

he will shoplift any clothing or jewelry that you want, and he'll even take you to other dimensions where there are better alternative clothes as well

spot doesn't really have a face to do makeup on, but he'll offer to do yours for you! surprisingly enough he's pretty good at it, though he does work pretty slowly

spot loves fiddling with your accessories, whenever he's standing near you he's always reaching out to touch you in some way shape or form. he loves playing with any chains or necklaces you wear, and will help adjust them so that they lay correctly

he helps you get ready in the morning!!!!! if ur the type of goth to wear corsets, he makes lacing them up SO easy and will gladly do it for you

i personally hc that spot HATES seeing himself in mirrors/pictures, it reminds him sm of what he used to look like, but he LOVES taking photos of you and your style!! whenever you are wearing a cute outfit or have funky makeup on, spot adores just taking photos of you

if you ever did a makeup look inspired by him and his spots he would probably CRY :(

URGRHHRHHRRR I LOVE ATSV SMMMMMMM!!!! this post will DEFINITELY have a pt2 w more characters!!!!! i swear tho atsv literally pulled me out of the most horrendous burnout ever i FELT the artblock and writing block lift off of my body as i watched it. IM SO INVESTED I MADE A SPIDERSONA...

[dollyhao]

once more to see you; a. anderson

(short little angsty fic based off mitski's song. ive never done something like this so let me know if its good because i have other ideas.)

‘in the rearview mirror i saw the setting sun on your neck and felt the taste of you bubble up inside me’

abby watched you sleep as the sunrised, casting a orange glow to your face. she traces a finger down your arm as your face twitches from the slight touches. she can feel the way you kissed her skin last night like a lingering burn and how she returned them.

‘but with everyone watching us, our every move, we do have reputations’

‘we keep it secret, won’t them have it.’

abby knows you deserve more than sneaky meet ups in her room and on patrols but theres nothing she can do. if she wants to keep the respect and fear of wlf soldiers she can’t have them knowing about you two. abby refuses to let them turn what you two have together into something else. she's doing this for you; for both of you.

‘so come inside and be with’

‘alone with me, alone with me, alone’

you never complain as abby avoids eye contact with you or talks to you formally, like your just another soldier who has to listen to her commands. you let abby initiate intimacy so you don’t have another mishap like the last time.

so you let abby leave you little notes to meet her in empty rooms that aren’t used anymore. and accept as she pulls you into passionate kisses and tight hugs, her silent way of telling you she loves you.

‘if you would let me give you pinky promise kisses , then i wouldn’t have to scream your name atop of every roof in the city of my heart’

you watch abby as she gets close with owen, playfully hitting him, making jokes and laughing. you don’t remember the last time abby laughed with you. you watch and wonder if being in a relationship isn’t the problem for abby but that maybe it’s being in a relationship with you thats the problem.

your heart screams for her when she meets your gaze with a look of (fake?) disinterest. you want her to tell you she loves you like she use to before she went up in rank. you want to yell at her that this can’t be the way you are loved in such an already fucked up world; but you can’t bring yourself to stop the moments you do get together.

‘if i could see you, once more to see you”

abby hasn’t seen you give her a genuine smile in days. when your alone, you give her these half smiles and she watches you lip wobble the slightest bit as she walks into your room at midnight. but your still here, wrapping her into your arms as she pulls you down to lay on the bed with her.

so she takes in everything your giving her right now because your still here, even if your eyes are far away.

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

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Read on A03

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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood. 

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye.  The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees.  The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane. 

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you  realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later. 

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead. 

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?” 

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how  incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them. 

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks. 

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.” 

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide. 

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now. 

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—��

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her.  “How could you?” 

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips. 

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.  

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life. 

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself. 

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes. 

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it. 

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to? 

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends. 

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence. 

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him? 

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

I’ve requested a few times as anon and decided to do a request like this. Recently I’ve been listening to “Too Sweet” by Hozier and all I can see is Eddie saying this when Reader doesn’t the smallest things to help out, whether it’s bringing him a glass of whiskey or a cup of coffee ☺️ @randomreader1999

💞☕

I think I'll take my whiskey neat

My coffee black and my bed at three

You're too sweet for me

You're too sweet for me - Too Sweet - Hozier

"You're too sweet for me" Eddie sighs as he downs the coffee that you made for him. Your smile is tender and full of love every time you bring it to him.

You're always doing this, doing the smallest things to help out. Whether it was cooking a meal for Eddie and making extra for Uncle Wayne, bringing Eddie his coffee or on a very rare occasion Whiskey.

When he falls into bed at three after practicing songs on the guitar for Corroded Coffin or planning campaigns, you always wake up and help soothe him to sleep, whether that's by reading to him or soft kisses and lovemaking.

You were far too sweet for him but fuck he never wants to let you go.

"I adore you Eddie, I like doing these things for you, to show that I care" you reply and he pulls you into a hug, holds you tight and gently kisses your forehead.

💌❤️

He's had a shit day at work and all he wants to do is see you, he called you half an hour ago to say he would be heading home. Clients were being assholes, he was left to fix up a behemoth of a truck on his own and his head feels like it's going to explode.

When he heads into the trailer, he can smell your delicious cooking and there's a hint of lavender and chamomile in the air.

You come out of the bathroom smiling, gently kiss him and wrap your arms around him, giving him a big hug. His worries and the tension he's felt all day begins to melt away.

"I ran a bath for you babe, it always helps me when I have a shitty day, I also dropped off at the store and got some meds and supplies for your favourite dinner". Eddie's heart skips a beat. You did all of this for him?

"You're amazing, you're too sweet for me princess" you cuddle into him and the words he's been dying to say for a while now blurt out.

"I love you so much" you gasp and look up at him stunned but then a slow, pleased smile forms on your face.

"I love you too Eddie" Yeah, you were too sweet for him but he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

The Injured List

Batter Up Chapter 4

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Joel's just a baseball player and his back is killing him, good thing he has you to take care of him. Warnings: smut, Joel gets injured and can barely move, you masturbate and Joel watches, cum swallowing, you ride Joel's fingers. Words: 3,500

Masterlist Playlist

⚾️⚾️⚾️

“And I don’t know folks, doesn’t look good for Joel Miller,” the announcer intones, but his words disappear, all you can focus on is the image on your screen. Tears begin to stream down your face as you watch Joel writhe in pain on the dirt. This can’t be happening, you’re literally packing your bag for the flight home to Texas in a few hours. He has the All Star Game in two days, and right now he’s sitting on the ground shaking his head and grimacing as his manager , teammates and trainer surround him, their faces all shrouded in concern. The shirt you were folding drops out of your hand as you walk closer to the television, as if being next to the broadcast will change the outcome. 

“Come on baby, come on,” you chant to yourself, nervously bouncing in place. You have nobody to talk to about your worry, except the man currently being helped up off the field by his trainer and coach. He looks pissed as he hobbles to the cart, you swallow hard realizing how angry and destroyed he looks. There goes the All Star Game, there goes his swan song of returning back to his hometown and old home field during what should be his final year of playing. 

Your heart shatters for him, for you, for his career. You don’t know what to do with yourself, so you still pack you bag. You text Joel that’s you’re leaving now. 

“What a shame. Miller’s out…” Your dad texts you later that night. Little does he know you’re reading his text as you take the elevator up to Miller’s apartment. 

The sound of Joel’s keys in the lock startles you out of your daze, you jump from the couch, hopping over the ottoman to meet him at the door. 

He looks haggard and tired.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, his face looking less defeated at the sight of you. “You didn’t have to come here, m’sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize. I wanted to be here,” you delicately wrap your arms around his neck, rising up on your tip toes and giving him a kiss before grabbing his bag from his hands. “I couldn’t not be.” 

It’s the first time you’ve been together in over two weeks, this is absolutely not the scenario you were expecting. Usually the first time you see each other after long stretches of time your first stop is the bedroom, both of you excited to touch each other and get all of your long distance frustrations out in bed. Tonight, it’s different, the first stop is the bedroom, but the only thing on your mind is taking care of him.

“I appreciate it baby, you’re too good.”

“I know I am. Now, come on, I got the bed all set up for you.”

——

“Well, I better get used to this damn room for the next week,” he grumbles limping into his room.

“Good thing I already have the next week off so I can keep you company.”

“You can still go home, ya’ know?” Joel plunks down on the edge of his bed. "Don't want you missing the game and your family on account of me."

“And leave my injured boyfriend all alone? What am I a monster?” You kneel down in front of him, unlacing his shoes and pulling each one off. 

“No, just feel bad you have to give up your vacation to take care of me,” his voice is soft as he grabs your chin and pets your cheek. 

“Listen,” you climb up his legs, placing your hands on his thighs, “I get a week of you stuck in bed, that’s better than a beachfront villa in Tahiti. Plus, I refuse to let a nurse or anyone else help you get undressed and bathe.” You untie the ties of his joggers. “Now, let’s get you in bed and I’ll take care of you.” 

You hold out your hands to help him stand, he takes them and rises with your assistance, grimacing as his back moves. 

“Should we ice it, or is the heating pad good for now?”

“Heat’s fine,” he croaks. 

“You alright?”

“I’m fine, just really fuckin’ hurts.” 

“Here, I’ll help with your clothes, do you want sleep shorts and a shirt?” 

“No, just a pair of underwear’s fine.”

“Right,” you turn and head for his closet to grab a new pair. 

“Hold up, just… I’ll get it.”

“Why?” You turn around, shrugging your shoulders. “You can hardly move.”

“Just, don’t do any digging, okay?”

“…..Okay, I’ll grab the first pair I see then,” you angle your eyebrows at him.

“Thank you.”

“Mmhmm,” you say as you turn and walk into his closet.

“Damnit.” You hear him groan from the other room as you open his underwear drawer. 

“Don’t do anything I can help you with!” You shout grabbing the top pair of boxer briefs fighting the urge to look through the drawer. 

Joel Miller is always cool, always put together. You don’t think there’s ever been a day that he’s looked pathetic, up until today and the sight that greets you when you walk out of his closet.

“This sucks,” he miserably huffs, standing by the bed, his pants halfway down his legs, the hem of his shirt rumpled up around his chest. 

“Oh baby,” you giggle. “See, how could I leave you in this state?” 

You kiss his cheek and bend down in front of him, grabbing the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. “Step out,” you instruct, looking to find he’s staring down at you, his eyes hooded, the same look he gives you in bed. “Don’t get any ideas Mr. Miller you can hardly move.” 

“Could probably move enough.”

“Bullshit, it’s not happening tonight Joel,” you stand. “Trust me, I want it too, but it’s not happening. Now, let’s get your shirt taken care of. Can you raise your hands for me?”

He nods and raises his arms, trying to disguise his frown.

You lift the hem of his shirt gently rolling it up his chest while trying to ignore the fact that he’s now almost fully naked in front of you. 

“You know,” he says as you slowly roll his shirt up his head and outstretched arms. “Just because I’m out of commission doesn’t mean you have to be.” 

“Joel,” you breathe out placing his shirt on your shoulders. “Stop.”

“I missed you— ’n your body, if I can’t have it, at least lemme look at it.” 

“We’ll see,” you bite your bottom lip, the angel on your shoulder is telling you the best thing for him to do right now is rest and sleep, the devil on your shoulder that looks like your handsome boyfriend is telling you to let him watch you get off. “Hate to say this now, but I have to take your underwear off.” 

You kneel down in front of him, thinking how stupid you are that you’re now face level with his crotch… and he’s already half hard. 

“Fuck, this sucks,” he tips his head back exasperating as you grab his waistband and begin to pull his boxer briefs down. 

“I know it does,” you whisper your mouth beginning to salivate as you expose his half hard cock, it feels like you’re unwrapping a forbidden present, "but I’m here to take care of you baby.”

“You can’t call me baby,” he sighs, “when you’re... down there.” 

Joel’s underwear pools at his feet, you stare straight forward at his half hard cock, your mouth dropping open at the sight. 

“I’m also going through things too,” you whisper as you tap on his legs so he can step out of the fabric at his feet. “I gotta put your underwear on.” 

“Mm,” Joel lifts a leg as you pull his underwear up, your hands forced to feel the skin of his legs, the hair is soft against your touch. 

“Christ, can feel your breaths against me, you gotta stop,” he whines. 

You hold your breath as you pull the black fabric up over his crotch, finally hiding the temptation. 

You stand back up, focusing on getting Joel ready for bed, the stick of your soaked underwear against your skin getting harder to ignore. 

You spread the heating pad out on his side of the bed, bending over to plug it into the socket behind his bedside table.

“You look so good bent over like that, hate my goddamn back,” he bitterly mutters.

“Can’t stop you, can I?” You chuckle. “I’m just glad you were able to shower at the ballpark.”

“I’m not,” he huffs out sitting on the edge of his bed gingerly twisting and lifting his legs up, resting his back against the wall of pillows you’ve placed against the headboard. 

“You good?” You hand him the remote control and the heating pad controller.

“Yeah, m’fine, thanks.”

“Need anything?” 

“No, just want to feel you in bed with me.”

“I know, just have a few things to do first.”

You gather Joel’s dirty clothes in your hand, depositing them in the hamper inside his closet. Your eyes glance over at his underwear drawer, why does he want you out of it? You know it’s not a ring, it’s too early, he knows that. It could just be nothing at all… you let the wonder escape your brain with a shake of your head. No need to worry about it right now.

You take your clothes off, sighing internally at how wet your underwear is with your arousal. 

“Where’s the sleep shirt you’ve been keeping for me?” You peek out of his closet.

“It’s already in my suitcase on the floor.”

You nod. “Thanks.”

“You naked in there?” 

You roll your eyes at his question. “Yes.”

“Lemme see.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you unzip his suitcase, finding the shirt folded right at the top, as if he couldn’t wait to give it to you as much as you couldn’t wait to receive it. 

“Please baby, it’s been a long fucking day and an even longer two weeks.” 

“Fine,” you walk out of his closet, the only piece of clothing is his shirt in your hands. Joel’s eyes darken as you walk over to the bed. “Happy?”

“Thank you,” his eyes roam your body. “Missed you pretty girl.”

“Missed you too,” you blush.

“Come lay next to me, it just hit me how little I’ve gotten to touch you.”

“I should probably get our phones from the living room, just in case."

“Please don’t, it’s all a bunch of texts and articles I don’t want to deal with right now, I just want to be with you right now.” 

The frustration in his voice makes you climb in bed and lay next to Joel, carefully placing your head on his chest. 

“This okay?”

“Of course it is. Wish I could wrap my arms around you and hold you close, fuck, you feel so good.” His hand comes up to your face, rubbing his thumb against your chin and lips. “God damnit, this really sucks.”

“I know, but I’m happy doing this too.” You grab his hand away from your face. “Can’t believe I never asked you, what does this mean?” You trace the three circles on Joel’s hand. 

“Had a bullseye board my dad used to use for hunting practice, would put it out in the field behind my house, my brother and I would spend hours trying to hit the ball off the tee and have it hit the target. Went ‘n got this the night after I won Rookie of the Year.”

“Cute,” you bring his hand up to kiss the tattoo. “I remember that banquet, I thought you were so hot. God, I thought that since I was eighteen maybe you’d talk to me because I was older. Ridiculous.”

“Dark blue dress, your hair was pulled back ’n you had a gold headband.”

You audibly gasp, dropping his hand out of yours, his palm thudding against his chest. 

“Yeah… yeah, that’s— wow, that’s what I was wearing.”

“I know, and I would’ve talked to you if your dad wasn’t the one signing my checks or holding my future in his hands. I remember talking to your mom, and you were right behind her, you looked so beautiful it was hard for me to pay attention to her.”

“I remember that, I loved listening to you talk. God, I can’t believe we’re here. Look at us now.”

“Look at us now,” his low chuckle vibrates against your head. “Speaking of looking, I’d really like to look at you.”

“You have been Joel.”

“No, I want to look at you, please, I’m gonna keep pulling the injured card, but let me watch you touch yourself.”

“Joel… I don’t think that’s doctor’s orders.” You want to touch yourself, you're so wet, just from being near him.

“Please, darling, it’ll make this day not totally suck.”

“Ugh, I can’t argue with that. Joel Miller wins again. Where do you want me?”

“At the foot in front of me, wanna see all of you.”

Your body thrums as you climb down his bed. You love how excited you are to touch your pussy for him, he adores your body, worships it. 

“Spread your legs for me, wide, want to see your pussy drool all over my sheets.” 

You sit up and face Joel, leaning back on an outstretched arm opening your thighs wide, your naked body lit by the soft glow of the lamp on Joel’s bedside table.

“Fuck baby girl, look at that, can see how wet you are, you’re absolutely fucking soaked.” 

You can see how his cock is hardening underneath his boxer briefs. It drives you even crazier. 

“Rub your pussy for me,” his eyes burn into yours, the timbre of his voice urging you forward.

Your hand snakes down your torso, dipping in between your folds, a moan leaves your lips feeling how wet you are, Joel groans as you begin to touch yourself. 

You do this all the time for him on FaceTime, but you’ve never done this in person, your leg draping over his, your arousal dripping onto his sheets. You love how you can see the way his eyebrows wrinkle as his big eyes dart from your eyes to your pussy and back. 

“That’s it baby, you look so fucking amazing.” 

You can’t believe your luck, both good and bad. Good luck that you’re close enough to watch Joel grow harder as he watches you fuck yourself. Bad luck that Joel can’t be the one fucking you. 

“Stick a finger in, lemme see it,” his hand dropping down to grip his bulge. “Not gonna do anything, pressure’s just helpin’ me.”

“You okay?” You ask, your finger paused at your entrance.

“Course I am sweetheart,” he smiles, “I’ll be just fine. This is good, real good. Stick it in for me.”

You raise your hips to meet your finger and begin pumping it in and out of you, your palm resting against your clit. You focus on Joel’s thick fingers forming around his sheathed hard cock, you stick another finger in to try to stretch yourself the way he stretches you.. It’s nothing compared to him.

“Greedy girl,” he growls, his fist tightening around his bulge. “Fuck, you’re so hot. Thank you for doing this for me.”

You want to give Joel a show, he deserves it. 

“Joel,” you whimper sticking a third finger in. “You always feel so good in me, love it when you fuck me.”

“Yeah?” He breathes. “Love how you squeeze me, you squeezin’ your fingers for me?” 

“Mmhmm,” you moan, your legs beginning to shake as you fuck yourself harder, your palm knocking against your clit. Your heavy breathing and the sound of your fingers shoving in and out of your hole growing louder and faster bringing yourself closer to your climax.

“That’s a good girl, missed you so much, missed that sweet pussy of yours. Can see you getting close, you close for me?” 

You nod as an idea pops into your head. You scoot yourself forward, your cunt now right in front of his free hand resting on his thigh. 

“Touch me, just, stick your fingers in, don’t move them, let me do the work?”

“Fuck. Yeah? Okay baby,” he sounds practically giddy at your suggestion. “How many?”

“Three, I need to feel you,” you order as you kneel on your knees hovering over his hand.

He nods, his face with a serious, determined expression as he sticks his fingers up for you. 

You lower your pussy on them. Fuck. His fingers are so fucking thick, opening your cunt even wider as you sit on them. Joel lets out a long, low groan as you bury his fingers inside of you. 

“Baby, oh god, you’re fucking soaked for me. Jesus, you feel so fucking silky and soft. Fuckin’ squeezing me so hard.”

You begin to rub circles around your clit, bringing your other hand to cup your breast as you begin to ride his hand. The feel of his skin against yours, the way his eyes bore into you as you slide your cunt up and down his thick digits, the guttural gasp he lets out as you squeeze his fingers tight chanting how much you wish his fingers were his cock edge you even closer.

His head thuds against the pillow as you grind harder against him, your wet dripping down against his knuckles. His hand still grips his cock, you place your hand on top of his, tracing the tattoo with a finger, the same circles you draw over your clit. He stares at his hand, his brows furrowing as he watches you trace the ink on his skin.

You move your hips on him as he stays still, he’s being so good to you, knowing you’ll worry about his back if he oversteps his boundaries. 

“Feel so good when you touch me,” he whispers, his hand clenching and unclenching around his length. “Just a fuckin’ finger on my hand and it’s driving me crazy.”

You love him so much, you know today has been hell for him, you’ll deal with that later, right now all you want to do is let him forget about everything using your naked body as a distraction.

You can feel your orgasm beginning to peak, your cunt clamping around his fingers. You’re close, so fucking close.

“Oh, babygirl, you’re going to cum aren’t you? Fuckin’ strangling me, wish it was my cock so bad. Let go for me, lemme feel it.”

It’s been so long since you’ve felt his touch and now your cunt is pulsing around his fingers.

“Fuck,” you stare open mouthed as you notice the dark spot on Joel’s underwear from his leaking cock. Your orgasm waves through you at sight, your slick gushing out soaking Joel’s fingers. You grab his cock and yank it out of his underwear as you rock through your climax, fuck your self imposed so-called “doctor’s orders” you want to touch him.

“Stay still, stay still,” you pant as you spread his precum all over his shaft, stroking him. 

His head nods ferociously, eyes widening as he bites his top lip, his hand curling into a fist resting atop his chest. 

“I know, I know,” you raise up off of his fingers, leaning forward to kiss him. “Cum for me Joel. Give me your cum,” you moan against his lips.

“Yes,” he chokes out.

“You’re being so good, laying so still, letting me do the work for you.” 

You stroke him faster, twisting the tip the way you know he likes it, he lets out a long groan, letting you know he’s there. You quickly clamber down the bed sealing your mouth over his cock. His body stays perfectly still, the only thing moving is his head nodding against the pillow and his cock throbbing as his seed shoots down your throat. You swallow all of it down, happy to be able to finally taste him.

“Thank you baby,” he whispers, “needed that. You’re so good to me.”

“You deserve it,” you smile wiping your mouth and pulling Joel’s underwear back up. “I know today wasn’t easy on you, but I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.” 

“I love you,” he sighs, his eyes already turning heavy with exhaustion.

“I love you too,” you lay down next to him, making sure to gently rest your head on his chest. 

“You’re so good at turning my bad days good. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

——

Joel falls asleep quickly. You sneak out of bed and softly pad out to the living room to grab your phones, remembering you need to set an alarm for his meds.

They sit on the coffee table, right where you left them.

Joel has too many missed texts. 

You have a few texts too, the most recent being from your mom.

Your stomach drops as you read it.

“Aren’t you flying in tonight? Why are you in Philadelphia? Please call.”

A/N: Hello, there is an awful lot of foreshadowing going on here.