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foli-vora · 1 year

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without you

matt murdock x f!reader

A/N: made myself hurt with this one tbh. I'll think about a part 2 if enough are interested, but I'll warn you - it won't be a happy ending lmao. Enjoy the angst-fest loves! x

Summary: You return after the 'blip'. Five years is a long time, and a lot of things can happen in that time.

Word count: 2.1kish

Warnings: ANGST. ANGST ANGST ANGST. i got sad af writing this. i don't even know what to put in the warnings. the events of infinity war & endgame, brief mention of the avengers, severe and utter fucking heartbreak, i would lose my fucking mind coming home after an apparent 5 years and finding the love of my life *******, lots of anxiety/panic, severe panic attack, passing out. no hate to karen here - she's a fucking babe.

It happens within a blink.

One moment there’s no one, and the next, an older woman is suddenly standing in your way and you can’t help the brief twitch of annoyance that she’s there. You have a meeting, you have groceries to get… you can’t just play chicken with a stranger on the pavement all afternoon.

She freezes, like many others you notice, and your frown deepens, confusion starting to take over the irritation. They all look at you, but not just you.

Time seemingly comes to a momentary freeze and you just don’t understand. Why is she looking at you like that?

The next minute—panic.

There’s a rush.

People scramble for their phones, they run. Cars swerve and there’s chaos. There are people crying, people start screaming, but there’s also awe, laughter. People embrace strangers. You know they’re strangers by the way they look around in complete bewilderment in the arms of the other, seemingly just as confused as you.

Five years.

Why do you keep hearing ‘five years’? Why are shop fronts different? What the hell has happened?

“You’re… you’re all back,” the woman utters, tears starting to build along her lash line.

Back?

You feel it in the pit of your stomach, a sick feeling of dread slowly building until it feels like it sticks uncomfortably in your throat. Something happened. You don’t know what, you don’t know how, all you know is that you need to go home immediately.

It’s halfway back to the apartment, after passing things that weren’t there previously, shops that you had passed just hours before now different, and your phone simply refusing to connect for unknown reasons, that you break into a panicked run.

You want home, you want somewhere familiar.

Matt left for work the same time as you—would the new mayhem taking over the streets bring him home to you? Maybe he’d already be waiting, sensing the frenzy before you?

The view of your building is a welcome relief, and you slow as you reach the door, heart pounding in your chest as you take the stairs as quickly as possible. The apartment is unlocked, and you berate yourself for forgetting to lock up earlier, but Matt’s cane resting by the door turns your inward irritation to understanding.

He’s home. He got here before you. He must be waiting, maybe he’d have answers—

“Matty?” you call, “do you have any idea what’s—”

A clatter, a sweep of air, and then he’s on you.

He’s curled around you before you can even finish, his arms so tight and constricting you struggle to take in a full breath. He’s talking, muttering incoherent words into the skin of your throat and all you can do is stand there, mind whirling in a maddening rush, not even able to lift your arms to return his embrace due to his restrictive hold.

“You’re here,” he breathes, almost disbelieving, “you’re here. I didn’t want to have hope but—God, I—”

“Matt, I’m so confused,” you breathe, unsure of why tears are starting to gloss your eyes or why your heart suddenly feels like it’s beating in the back of your throat, “what’s going on? It’s crazy out there, I don’t know wh—”

“I know. I know, sweetheart. I’ve missed you. God, I’ve missed you. It’s been so long, I didn’t think I’d ever—” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence and a few more panicked kisses press into the side of your throat.

He’s crying.

You feel the wetness of his tears smear over your skin and it’s enough to bring your own falling heavily from your eyes. What is he talking about? You saw him this morning, only mere hours ago. You made breakfast, you kissed him goodbye like every other day, nothing had been different.

“Matt,” you whimper, “what the hell is going on?”

—

Five years. You were gone for five years. Just one day—poof. Out of existence, never to be seen again. The city had been clouded by dust, remnants of those also taken disappearing with the autumn breeze. So many people just lost. You don’t remember any of it.

There was no pain, no suffering. You had no recollection of the time lost at all, and yet for Matt it had been years.

Years since he had touched you, kissed you, felt you. He tells you that he looked for you for weeks, months. Even went to the damn Avengers—or what was left of them—and found out what had happened. He’d been distraught, falling into a deep, dark pit of despair and heartbreak from the sudden loss of you.

You cry for him, for the time you’d lost together.

Nothing could ever make up for it. Sure, you’re here now, but could you ever truly make up for the loss of time? What had he gone through during your absence?

The two of you don’t part for what feels like hours.

Matt clings to you, inhaling you deeply and kissing whatever inch of skin he could reach. He doesn’t pull away to answer your questions, instead letting the low rumble of his voice melt through the fabric of your shirt and flooding warmth along your shoulder.

His hands still roam over you, almost as if they’re retracing your dips and curves to remind himself of how you felt when you disappeared five years ago. You catch his fingers with a sweet flutter in your chest, lifting his hand to press a tender kiss to the back of it when the smooth feel of metal catches your attention.

It’s a simple gold band, fit snug around the fourth finger of his left hand and you rub your finger over the shiny surface of it in curiosity. He wasn't wearing a ring this morning...

A ring.

A wedding ring.

You feel sick.

He senses the moment you realise it, picking up on the sudden quicken of your heartbeat and the clammy sting of sweat that builds along the back of your neck.

His tongue darts out to moisten his lips as you stare at the smooth gold band in shock, feeling as if the room had suddenly gotten ten times smaller. He starts to shift, his fingers quickly flipping to wrap around your wrists to keep you from moving away.

“Let me explain—”

“You… are—are you married?”

“Sweetheart, please—”

You hurriedly stand, wrenching your hands from his and stumbling on your quick step back as he advances after you. He’s married? How can he be married?

Maybe he’s not. Maybe he just slid the ring you both picked out onto his finger when you disappeared in an effort to keep your memory fresh… but with the shine of guilt starting to seep into his features, you fear it’s not as sentimental as you hope.

Panic consumes you. Your eyes flitter around the room, your ears filling with a dull ring that drowns out whatever words fall from his lips as he cautiously steps after you.

It’s your apartment, but it’s… it’s not.

You start to notice the little things you had missed upon coming home so quickly. That throw over the back of the couch isn’t yours. The coffee mug next to Matt’s on the kitchen counter isn’t yours. Your trinkets aren’t lingering on the shelves where you’d placed them. Your shoes aren’t thrown by the door. Your photo with Matt isn’t in its usual spot on the wall.

Instead, another picture hangs there.

Bile burns the back of your throat. Your heart thunders away in your ears. You know what it is, you can see the general feel of it and who stands within the frame through blurry eyes, but you simply can’t accept it.

It’s morbid curiosity that makes you take those few steps towards it, a part of you screaming to not look, to turn away before it really hammers that final nail into the coffin and fucking destroys you. Maybe your mind needs to truly see it in order to make sense of it… but no. It only makes you more confused, more distressed.

What the fuck?

Oxygen is impossible. You can’t fucking breathe. You can’t—

“Sweetheart—”

It’s a wedding photo.

Matt’s wedding photo.

Matt and Karen’s wedding photo.

“Oh my god,” you whimper brokenly, clutching a hand to your chest in an effort to keep yourself together. You press where you feel the rapid beat of your heart, half wondering if you’d be able to feel the break of the frantic organ under your palm.

The room starts to spin.

This morning you’d woken up with an apartment and a fiancé, and now, only a few hours later, you have nothing. How can you have nothing? The apartment is home to you—you left your pyjamas on the floor of the bathroom this morning. You had your coffee at the counter. The love you feel for Matt is present as it always had been, there in the centre of your entire being, so sweet and consuming and yet, his love for you had seemingly vanished.

Disintegrated, along with your body apparently five years ago. Maybe with a clearer head, you’d come to understand that five years is a long time and it’s understandable that he had to move on at some point, but in the moment you feel nothing but hurt—rage.

Matt’s hands are frantic on your body, grabbing at your arms and keeping you from falling to the floor as a sob tears its way out of your chest. You can hear him try to soothe you, hear his worry that your heart is erratic and you just need to breathe.

Breathe, sweetheart—please, breathe.

You can’t. You simply can’t.

Oxygen isn’t coming as easily as it should. Your lungs burn. You’re shaking, unable to stop the tremble taking over your body as you choke on your tears. They burn your skin, painting your cheeks with the bitterness of your heartbreak and they just won’t stop.

He supports you as you sink towards the floor, legs no longer having the strength to hold you up. He goes down with you, hands cradling your head to his chest and you can’t find it in you to push him away and escape his touch.

It’s Matt. Your Matt.

You shouldn’t want to shrug him off. You shouldn’t feel guilty at his touch. He’s your Matt, has been for the eighteen months you’ve been together. It was meant to be you in that frame, swimming in white with a smile stretched along your lips, Matt dressed to the nines in an immaculate tux and his ever present red shades beside you.

But it’s not. It’s… it’s Karen.

It’s not you, there’s no trace of you anywhere to be seen. Had you been that forgettable? Foggy’s there, Marci a step behind holding a beautiful little girl with ribbons in her hair. They had a baby? You’ve missed so much.

You start weeping for the life you’d missed out on, for the chances and opportunities of growing older with them and the sweet potential you had had with Matt.

Gone.

All of it, just—gone.

Where would you be now had your soul not been chosen? Married? Promoted? A godmother to the sweet little angel cradled in Marci’s arms?

“Sweetheart, come back to me,” Matt’s voice cuts through your despair, low and soft in your ear and you cling to him tighter, “breathe. I’ve got you, I’m here.”

“I-I’ve lost so much,” you choke out, hiding your tear stricken face in his throat and desperately trying to get ahold of your body jerking with each difficult inhale and broken exhale, “and I didn’t even know—”

You didn’t know. You didn’t know anything when you apparently ‘returned’. It’s all so haunting and overwhelming and so fucking confusing.

He stills smells the same, feels the same, despite all these years. You cling to him, desperate for comfort in the moment of your utter heartbreak, but it doesn’t work like it used to and that only makes your pain increase tenfold. His hold feels wrong now. His hold isn’t for you anymore. He has a wife.

You still don’t understand. You can’t comprehend the fact that he’s married, that the arms that hold you are now meant for someone else. They were yours this morning. It’s not possible. You had him this morning; you felt him this morning, you kissed him—

“Sweetheart,” he’s urgent now, manoeuvring you in his hold until you sit in front of him, your back pressed up against his chest and his arms tight around your torso, “breathe with me. Feel my chest, listen to me and follow—in… and out. Come on—”

You pay attention to the exaggerated feel of him breathing against your back, focusing on every expansion of his chest and attempting to match the pace of your inhales. It doesn’t work. Your heart still thunders away against your ribs, your mind still runs fucking wild, and your eyes threaten to roll back from the rush of it all.

“Stay with me,” he begs, but his voice starts to sink to the back of your mind, taken over by the high pitched ring sounding in your ears.

It’s not long until black fully engulfs your vision, and Matt’s voice calling your name is the last thing you hear, frantic and terrified. Maybe you'll find peace in the darkness.

matty tags: @javier-pena, @dihra-vesa, @a-reader-and-a-writer, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @acourtofsnakes, @mstgsmy66, @evyiione, @stardust-galaxies, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @withasideofmeg, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @fangirl-316, @xoxabs88xox, @federleichtefreiheit, @lavenderluna10, @mindidjarin. @stardustingold, @androah, @itwasthereaminuteago, @wildmoonflower, @naughtynecromancer, @h-hxgirl, @Unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @celestinemuse, @chaoticemz, @alexxavicry, @mylifeispainandiloveit, @cran-berry-vodka, @nishi-reads, @mandocrasis, @lawfulgranola, @ew-erin, @fuckoffbard, @spaceserialkiller, @captain-jebi

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock angst #daredevil fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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the-lonelybarricade · 10 months

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Feysand Holiday Fic Recs

A collection of holiday-themed Feysand fics for you to enjoy while snuggled down beneath a big, cozy blanket with a cup of hot cocoa!

Spicy fics indicated by a 🌶️ emoji

Please make sure to spread the holiday joy and kindness by leaving kudos and comments on any of the fics that you find and enjoy from this list 💕

One-Shots:

Modern:

The Holiday (🌶️) by @velidewrites - When two sisters with a terrible taste in men (or is it?) decide to swap houses for the holidays, they don't expect to fall in love.

Dada by @julemmaes - Rhysand and Feyre have tried everything to make their little boy talk, now they can only wish for a Christmas miracle

Home for the Holidays by @darling-archeron - Feyre and Rhys have been best friends for years. And Feyre knows that's all they'll ever be - friends. When Rhys brings her to his family Christmas party, she realizes that not everyone has the same impression of their relationship.

Going Home by @darling-archeron - When Feyre's flight home is cancelled, she finds herself stranded in Chicago on Christmas Eve. Luckily, she runs into a familiar face at the airport.

Christmukkah by @live-the-fangirl-life - When Feyre can't celebrate the holidays with her family, Rhys decides to help

Merry Christmas, Feyre Darling (orphaned) - Feysand Fluffy Highschool AU fic

Don't Be a Jerk (It's Christmas) by @the-lonelybarricade - When the group in the corner of the cafe are being too loud for Feyre to study, she decides to take matters into her own hands.

A Letter Never Sent by @the-lonelybarricade - Rhysand was assigned as Feyre's secret santa—again. But after nearly confessing his feelings to her last Christmas, he'll be making sure not to put his heart on his sleeve this year. Or; Rhys accidentally gives Feyre the wrong Christmas letter.

A Letter to Satan (🌶) by yafan92 - When Feyre sends a drunken letter to Santa on Christmas Eve, she doesn't realize that she actually sent it to Satan, who shows up willing to grant her Christmas wish.

Feysand Holiday Fluff Fest by @nomattertheoceans - A series of 31 holiday prompt fills for December 2019

All I Want For Christmas Is You by dr_woodsprite - Rhysand and Feyre’s first Christmas.

A Very Feysand Christmas by @librarian-of-orynth - Feyre and Rhys buy, and then decorate, their Christmas tree.

Merry Christmas, Darling by whimsicallydrifting - Rhys and Feyre are celebrating their first Christmas together as a married couple, and Rhys decided to be romantic and take care of all the preparations: tree, dinner, and decorations. It didn't go exactly as he'd planned.

False Identity (🌶️) by addiewritesthings - One night at a bar, recent divorcee Feyre Archeron is approached by a beautiful dark-haired man who wants to know her name. Only the name she gives him isn't her own.

Canon:

In the Spirit by @noirshadow - the Inner Court confronts their biggest enemy to date - Dry January.

Winter Solstice with Nyx by JAWhitethorn - This is a fluffy, happy story about Feyre & Rhysand celebrating Solstice with the Inner Circle and Nyx, when he is almost five years old.

Solstice Lights and a Scared High Lord by Littlelionman15 - Rhysand thought it'd be a good idea to put himself under the christmas tree as another winter solstice present for Feyre, but things don't go as planned, and the possibility of a new haircut comes in play when Feyre has to help him get out.

I Am Lost And Led Only By The Stars by highfaelucien - The first Christmas after the war and Feyre is disappointed when Rhys can't make it back from the Illyrian camps due to a violent snow storm. Rhys decides to throw caution to the wind and do whatever it takes to get back to his mate in time.

Christmas at the Cabin by @illyriantremors - The entire squad goes to the cabin in the mountains to spend a week together at Christmas. Mayhem and shenanigans ensues.

Seven Days of Solstice by @msfeyredarling - On Feyre’s fiftieth, Rhys decides to celebrate Feyre following the seven days of the winter solstice.

Secret Weapon by addiewritesthings - Feyre returns home one evening to discover exactly what Rhys and Nyx have been up to all day.

Multi-Chapter (all completed):

Modern:

A Christmas Prince by @separatist-apologist - When reporter Feyre Archeron is sent to the small European Principality of Aldovia to cover the upcoming coronation of Prince Rhysand, she's mistaken for a royal portraitist. Deciding to lean into the lie in order to get a better story, Feyre is caught up in the drama and politics of Rhysand's life with no way out that doesn't betray them both.

Once Bitten, Twice Shy by @the-lonelybarricade - "You didn't put up Christmas lights so my friends and I decided to decorate your lawn for you"

Silent Night by Lyetta - When a spare of the moment decision sends Rhys down the riverside path, his life is turned upside down by a beautiful woman in need of help.

Home for the Cold Spell by @thegloweringcastle - When faced with yet another birthday alone in her hometown, Feyre decides to gift herself the thing she needs most: an escape. Things go well; she explores new places, meets new people, and finds a muse in the most arrogant (and beautiful) man she's ever met.

#If I'm missing any favorites please feel free to reblog and add them!#I tried to do a thorough sweep of the archive but there's only so many holiday keywords a girl can think of #Feysand #feysand fic #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #fic recs

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hpffwritersguild · 8 months

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Comfort Zone Fest 2024 - Author Reveals!

(And round up)

All fics have been revealed, read, and screamed over on our Discord so here's the full list of works, and the authors who were brave enough to step out of their comfort zone for them.

Mon Eclair by @adam-my-adam Nothing by @sleepstxtic To Adventure by slytherinvamp It's Glamour, Not Algebra by cherrybirch He Follows by nockout Bird Feeder by @elisedonut Only me in the limelight by Lucigoo89 Cupid's Spiral by @maple-unicorn Ollivander & Thomas, Makers of Fine Wands by @rainstormradish Girls just wanna by @maesterchill Boots 'n' Bulges by @patriceavril Black and Brown by @annanother-thing Taskmaster: Magic Mayhem by @bluestringpudding Seen Unseen by Asphodel_and_Wormwood On Magic and Beds by @khb-writes Double, double toil and trouble by @serenaew Hufflepuff by @xslytherclawx-writes Interview for the Quibbler by Goddess47 Special Children by delfinestria Weasley & Weasley Ltd by @elliemarchetti Prop Me Up On The Table Like A Mannequin by DrWhoIsGinnyHolmes run boy run by @mirrorofliterature Breakfast every morning by @mkaugust bury me face down by beeprescott A knife all blade by @uncannycerulean

Congratulations to all of our writers this year! You did a phenomenal job. Thank you all so much for participating - hopefully we see you back for the next one! :)

#comfort zone fest 2024 #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #author reveals #fest masterlist #hp fanfic writers guild #hpffwg events #hpff writers guild

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themostrandompolls · 3 months

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All these options where inspired by reply’s on this is a poll first choice secant choice poll

Listed in order person whe said it was

@snowoy-fox @thiings-with-wings

@antfarmingantfarms

@tr-mha-fan

@notevenalittle1294

@unluckyshinyhunter

@max-v0lum3

@random-gamer1942

@wren-fest

@gaminggamegamer

@x-ocarina-of-crime-x

@arandombee

sorry I had to squish you together

@fireflychaosdemon @chaotixxx337

I love you my chaos gremlins

vote for fun

Reblog to spread fun

like to show had fun

comment for CHAOS

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dramioneasks · 11 months

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HP FESTS: Pumpkin Spice Fic Fest (Part 3)

Pumpkin Spice Fic Fest 2023:

daybreak, nightfall, & the moments that happen in between by gemgirl28 - E, one-shot - Hermione and Draco’s relationship is too new to tell any of their friends, but that hasn’t stopped him from finding a place in her life. She finds she quite enjoys starting and ending her days with him at her side. The thought should scare her, but staying away sounds worse.

on-again, off-again by sodamnrad - E, one-shot - Granger, Why does everyone think we’re dating? - Draco I’m handling it. –Hermione That doesn’t answer my question. Hermione starts a rumour, and Draco winds up with a pretend girlfriend. And when they break up, they can't help but get back together again, and again, and again.

Rivers of Whiskey and Honey by charingfae - E, one-shot - Draco has been pretending to date Hermione for two months and four days. Which, in his mind, is two months and four days too long, and one eternity short of long enough. He isn't prepared to run into her on his solo morning walk after their latest 'date'. Or for her to trail her fingers down his arm and lean in to kiss him... Cozy, fluffy, smut.

The Professor and the Librarian by So_scarlett_maroon - E, one-shot - The first time Draco saw her, she was sitting in a reading nook, flipping through a children's book. The sun was shining through the windows behind her, lighting up her brown curls to show off their golden highlights. He felt drawn to her. He wanted to walk right up and say hello that second, but Scorpius pulled him down an aisle. “I need a bunny book Dad!” he said, as he tugged Draco’s hand. --- Draco is back in the UK after years spent in France at Beauxbatons. He sees a woman at the Rowena Ravenclaw Public Wizarding library and is desperate to know more about her.

Natural As A Dream by simplifiedemotions - M, one-shot - She knows, she knows, she knows, and still she falls asleep in the comfort of his warm body, only waking up briefly so that he can take her home. She knows, she knows, she knows, that as he tucks her into bed and takes off her heels that he’s only being a good friend, so much as Draco Malfoy can be a friend to anyone. She closes her eyes and lets sleep take her, wishing that the hand that softly strokes her cheek is real. Or: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy yearn for each other over the course of ten-plus years and several weddings.

Mayhem in a Maelstrom by Emma Jordan Hart (Wailzy) - E, one-shot - Near Halloween, the trio get stranded in an empty barn during a thunderstorm. Dreomione PWP, muggle!AU [Draco Hermione x Theo]

behind the façade of friendship by riddikulus_puff - E, one-shot - Hermione Granger was pretty sure that the deal settled between herself and her previously named "sworn enemy", Draco Malfoy, was a good idea. Friends with benefits always went one hundred per cent the way you wanted to and always worked out for the couple, right? The movies were proof that feelings would never develop and yet, of course, Hermione was stupid for thinking that things would be fine if Draco and Hermione just slept together. No strings attached. Yet, feelings were bubbling, the beginnings of everything that could destroy everything Hermione and Draco had tried hiding from each other.

Castle of glass by pinkhairandbooks - E, one-shot - His eyes stayed glued to the sky for less than two minutes before they slid back to the witch who had been ruling all his thoughts for years. He couldn’t stop himself: no matter how hard he tried his eyes always found her, even among a crowd of her doppelgangers his gaze would land on her, as if attracted by a magnet. The witch was curled up on her side, her right shoulder rising and lowering due to her regular breaths and, watching her so helpless and relaxed while sleeping, suddenly the urge to give in to his worst impulses became too strong. He drank three more long sips of Firewhisky and then stood up, checking to make sure that all the other participants in that sort of bonfire were asleep before stealthily approaching Granger’s sleeping bag

Catch and Release by WillowingScribe1709 - M, one-shot - Hermione and Draco meet at a farmer's market on a cold, rainy November morning. Coincidence? Surely not. Once he catches her, he has her. Let the chase begin!

Pulling Leaves Off Trees by hauntedde (excitedde) - M, one-shot - Hermione and Draco find each other across four Autumns. A scent obsessed little love story.

Home Sweet Hogsmeade by flowerfem - E, one-shot - Hermione didn't hesitate to return to Hogwarts for Eighth Year but when Draco Malfoy became her roommate, things became interesting. A short story focused on the immaculate vibes of first term at Hogwarts. Prompts: rain soaked, lingerie, roommates

Lovely Plan by VineHawthorn - E, one-shot - Jealous Hermione encounters a very smug Draco and smut ensues.

This fest is ongoing.

#pumpkin spice fest #fests/exchanges/challenges #dramione

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hrodvitnon · 3 months

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It's funny how each era of Godzilla starts with a dark, gritty entry "returning Godzilla to his roots" that gradually gives way to utter wackiness.

The Showa series began with 1954 that was a powerful allegory of nuclear war...then quickly turned to tail slide dropkicks and victory dances.

Then they tried to rebrand him back in 1985 to start of the Heisei series, again making him a serious solo antagonist...then a few movies later we have time travel, mecha robots, adorable baby Godzilla Jr. and a mutant rose with a human soul.

Then they tried to rebrand him again in 2000 for the Millennium series, which had the fairly wacky but still somewhat grounded Godzilla 2000, and after a few experimental films they finished off with the utter mayhem-fest that is Final Wars where Goji just demolishes every kaiju on his rogues gallery.

And after that we got the Monsterverse which began with 2014's bleak and ominous Godzilla and now has GxK which is basically Showa reborn.

So far however the Reiwa era has been all serious in tone (Shin Godzilla, Minus One, the anime trilogy and Singular Point). Here's fingers crossed that Japan takes Godzilla down a wacky route again 😂

You can take the wacky out of Godzilla, but you can't take Godzilla out of the wacky!

#Anonymous #godzilla

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the-literal-kj · 8 months

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SUNDAYS

Good Omens fanfiction. Complete. 2k words. Rated T. Read it on A03.

Summary: Domestic fluff in the form of early morning bondage & quiet time. Consensual, ace, non-sexual. <3

CW: Rope Bondage, non-sexual bondage, non-sexual intimacy, non-sexual kink, implied PTSD, coping mechanisms.

Excerpt:

On Sundays, Crowley ran the bookshop. Or more accurately… on Sundays, Crowley ran customers out of the bookshop. It was good to cause some mayhem on Sundays, he reasoned. But the real reason he did it was because Aziraphale asked him. Not with words. Never with words, it seemed. Turns out some things were too holy for Sundays. But he’d asked him nonetheless. And every Sunday since then, he’d arrived at 8am sharp, and Aziraphale had handed him the rope.

Read the rest on A03.

Written for @sohoscribblers Romantic Fluff Fest Challenge, for the prompt Love Languages! Special thanks to @sohoscribblers, especially @ines2925 @playdohangel @azeutreciathewicked and AngieWords. I appreciated your input; it made this piece better as always!

And gifted to @ines2925 who pushed this piece farther and validated its existence!

🤍

#good omens #go #go2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #aziraphale x crowley #good omens season 2

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silentglassbreak · 7 months

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The plot with Jolly at the fest sound like very interesting story. I'd love to read it

I didn't get too much detail on this one, so I'm just going to run with it? First time writing for Jolly, so let's give it a shot.

**After writing notes: WOW this one went in an entirely different direction than I expected...

It just happened. I hope someone enjoys it. LOL.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Soft smut, mentions of death

Sweater Weather

Why does no one ever have the balls to tell Noah he’s being a diva?

Listen, the man is my brother. We’re family. För alltid mitt blod. I would take a bullet for him, and I have no doubt he would do the same for me.

But, sometimes, he’s so fucking irritating.

How hard it must be to have such talent and be so attractive, everyone loves you, and you work hard to maintain an image. However, taking out the stress and pressures on the only guys who also know how being in this band feels?

Noah was arguing with one of the stage techs, telling him that the image they had prepared to be behind us doing our set was wrong. He’s right, they had prepared the image of the mannequins, when it was supposed to be the album cover, but that wasn’t this poor little man’s fault.

“God, it’s not a hard fucking thing to do!”

“I’m sorry, dude. I’m putting in the request to have it switched.” The man wasn’t exactly cowering, but he was intimidated for sure.

I stepped up behind Noah, letting a gentle hand fall on his shoulder. I could feel his muscles relax slightly under my fingers.

“C’mon man. It’ll be fine. We have an hour until our set. They’ll get it fixed.”

I felt him take a deep breath, and saw how he closed his eyes to center himself. This was something I taught him.

The tech scurried away, leaving us alone in our tent.

It was so fucking hot, which was interesting, given we were in Michigan. Upheaval festival was one of my favorites. It was a smaller event, which meant a more regular experience with the fans. Usually, it also meant better food and beer vendors.

“Hey, guess what I found?” Nick came bounding into the tent, a large mug in his hand.

“Beer, I assume?” Noah pointed his attitude at Nick, who rolled his eyes in return.

“They have a beer garden! Jolly, they’ve got a Swedish ale you might dig!”

I snorted. “Guarantee it isn’t actually Swedish.” Grabbing my hat from the couch, I placed it over my long hair that was pulled back in a low ponytail, and headed for the exit.

“I will go check it out though. Folio out there?”

Nick nodded. “He was spotted, so he’s chatting with some fans.”

I smirked. “Let’s hope he can get out before the set.”

Noah turned and looked at me. “Don’t be late getting back, please! We go on in under an hour.”

Shooting him a thumbs up, I headed for the mayhem of the festival.

As suspected, there was nothing Swedish about the beer, but it did have good flavor. I stood to the right of the beer garden, sipping my mug, and people watched.

It was always so fascinating to see the mix of people who came to these shows. European festivals were one thing but American festivals? You saw everything from multi-colored hair to breasts only barely covered by mesh tops or pasties. It was a sight to behold.

After a moment of zoning out, I looked down at my watch to see I still had twenty minutes before we had to head to the stage. Noah was likely bursting because I wasn’t back yet, and I smiled to myself at the thought. He could sweat for a few minutes, would do him good.

Deciding I should at least start making my way back there, my eyes scanned for the direction I needed to go, somehow getting turned around. Eyes searching over heads and bodies, I didn’t even see the person coming toward me, knocking my shoulder directly into them as I began walking forward.

My beer sloshed over the edge of the cup, pouring foam down the girl’s arm.

“Fuck! I am so sorry!” I turned, and my eyes locked onto the face in front of me.

Wisps of natural, dirty blonde hair floated in the slight breeze, framing a tan, small face. The rest of her hair was pulled up on top of her head in a bun, tightly secured. Her eyes were lightly lined with black, mascara clinging to her lashes. Pink, full lips covered by only a thin gloss were hanging open, startled by the cold liquid on her shoulder.

“Shit! I didn’t even see you, I’m so sorry!” She apologized, wiping her arm with the sweater tied around her waist. Her white tank top was now an amber color on one side.

I couldn’t speak. She was gorgeous.

“Jesus, I’m such a fucking klutz.” She groaned, hastily grabbing napkins off of the cart behind us and wiping at her arm, and then at my hand.

When her ice blue eyes looked up at me, I felt the air rush back into my lungs.

“No, no that was my fault. I’m very sorry.”

When the realization crossed her face, I saw it like a firework exploding behind her vision.

“You’re Jolly fucking Karlsson!”

This made me chuckle. “Something like that, yeah.”

I reached a hand out, which she took graciously, smiling at me with a wide, toothy grin.

“It’s such an honor. I’m a huge fan. I was actually rushing so I could get back to see your set!”

Her words snapped me back.

Fuck.

“Oh, good! I’ve got to get over there! But, uh,” My brain was working overtime. “maybe I can find you after? You can buy me another beer?”

I let any suave I had take over, which seemed to work decently, given she blinked multiple times.

“Sure, of course!”

“Jolly!” My head snapped over to see Matt barreling toward me. “Dude we go on in ten minutes!”

Looking back, I watched as her face fell slightly, my arm now being physically pulled in the opposite direction. Being led away, I hollered.

“I’ll meet you back here!”

I was only given a nod, and a wave in response.

The set was electric, Noah's earlier nerves rolling off of him comfortably as he put on a show. Nick was absolutely flawless on his bass, flipping his hair over and over. Folio, as usual, lost himself in the drum beats, freestyling here and there.

I, however, was way off my game. Something about my encounter with the mesmerizing blonde earlier kept me thoroughly distracted. Over and over, my eyes swam through the sea of people in the crowd, trying my hardest to find a blonde messy bun and steel blue eyes, but it was in vain. I couldn't see anything.

I thought about her again and again, unable to shake the feeling of wonder from my bones. For whatever reason, I needed to see this girl again. Her aura, her energy, it radiated beauty, rarity, like a gemstone.

Pärla. A magnificent treasure.

The thoughts racing in my brain made me lose my focus more than once. During Nowhere to Go, I missed several notes, my guitar making an awful screeching sound. I forgot to sing backup vocals during Limits entirely, earning me a glare from Noah, and a look of concern from Nick.

I had ignored it, and continued on, my eyes still searching. It was hopeless. I would find her after. I had to.

Once Dethrone concluded, and I ran off stage, setting my guitar down, I felt a hand pull my arm, flinging my backward.

"Dude, are you okay?" Nick looked straight at me. "You drunk?"

I furrowed my brow. "Of course not."

"Well, you don't really fuck up on stage, Jolly, so what the fuck?" Noah was standing directly behind Nick, eyes shooting me down with fury.

I shrugged. "I'm sorry. I was looking for someone."

This made them both leer backward a moment. "Who?" Noah asked.

"This girl. I met her at the beer garden."

They reacted equally differently. Nick let up a sly smirk, his eyebrows raising. Noah, however, narrowed his eyes.

"You almost blew the set for some broad?"

Rolling my eyes, I turned toward them. "I didn't blow the fucking set, Noah. Quit being so dramatic."

I could see the fire burning behind his irises, which I would definitely pay for later in the form of his attitude.

"Are you fucking kidding, dude?" Noah began scolding me, but Nick held up a hand.

"Chill. Jolly never fucks up, ever." He turned to Noah, giving him stern eyes. "And the set was fine."

Huffing, Noah stomped away, throwing a tantrum like a child.

I smiled at Nick, grateful. "You know how he gets at festivals."

Nodding, I began to walk away. "Got to go."

Waving him off, I weaved through all of the people behind the stage area, making my way back out to our tent, where Davis and Matt were already packing up equipment. I grabbed a clean shirt out of my backpack, and slipped it over my head. I pulled half of my hair up in a tight bun on top of my head, and slipped on my sunglasses.

Headed back out, I noticed the sun was nearly set, and the beer garden area was almost vacant, most people over by the stages. Sleep Token had just started, so the vendors were long abandoned by almost everyone.

I found the napkin cart, and stood, arms crossed, scanning around. After about ten minutes, I had to remove my sunglasses to be able to see clearly as night was falling. A chill ran up my spine as the temperature began to drop. No sign of her, but I didn't mind waiting.

Thirty minutes.

Forty-five.

One hour.

I stood, eyes glancing around, head bobbing to Sleep Token's heavy bass and Vessel's incredible vocals. However, my mind was elsewhere. Maybe she didn't want to miss their set? Maybe she forgot where to meet? I didn't know how to find her.

I didn't even know her name.

It was a mystery, and I couldn't get it out of my head. I was going to have to give up soon. The festival would be ending, and I would have to get back with the guys, head back to the hotel. The thought made my stomach sink. Why was I so entranced with the idea of this girl? All she did was spill beer on me. Why did I insist on finding her?

"Jolly?"

I spun, much faster than I should've, on my heel, and was met with cold, freezing blue eyes, staring up at me. Her gloss was worn off, and her eyeliner was smudging ever so slightly under her eyes. Her bun was long gone, blonde hair now free-flowing down across her shoulders.

"Pärla."

Her smile was confused. "Uh,"

"It means gem. I didn't know your name, so I decided to go with that."

The blush on her cheeks was a sweet addition to that gorgeous sun kissed skin.

"I like that." She rubbed her palms on the front of her jeans. I noticed her sweater was now around her shoulders, covering the beer stain on her tank top. "I'm sorry, I know we said we'd meet after your set. I had to get one of my friends back to our hotel."

Shaking my head, I waved her off. "No worries."

"Did you wait long?"

An hour wasn't a long time, I don't think.

"Nope."

With a finger pointed at the beer garden, she asked, "So, you want that beer?"

I perused this. I wasn't much for a drink right now, comfortable with just talking to her. "You going to have one?"

Shrugging, she looked over toward the crowd. "I don't think so. I've got to get back to the hotel with my friends soon. One of them is really drunk, and is a sick mess."

My face soured. "That doesn't sound fun."

Scrunching her face, she stuck her hands in the pocket of her sweater. "It isn't. I'm pretty annoyed about it, actually."

Nodding, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I had been ignoring it for a while.

Matt: Dude, if you're coming with us, we gotta go now.

I typed a quick response.

Me: Meet you back at the hotel.

We walked around the festival grounds for a while, just chatting about different things, somehow managing to distract her from the fact that she should go back to her hotel, and I, mine.

"You're from Florida?"

She nodded. "Daytona. I hate it."

"Why? Isn't it sunny and beautiful all year-round?" I chuckled.

She joined me. "Sure, if you like a lot of drugs and alligators everywhere."

We found some benches, having a seat. I pulled a pack of smokes from my pocket, lighting one.

She stared at me, smirking. I lifted the pack toward her. "Want one?"

She shook her head. "I'm okay. Thanks, though."

Blowing out the smoke, I turned my attention back to her face.

"So why come to Michigan for a festival?"

Her eyes were lost on the crowd, amused. "Why not?" She leaned back on her seat. "I love the adventure of traveling. Seeing different cities. If I get to enjoy good music while I'm at it, why not?"

"You get to meet a lot of cool people doing it, huh?"

Looking over to me, I saw her lips turn up slightly. "Yeah, I do."

A cool silence fell over us for a moment while I finished my cigarette.

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw her head turn toward me. "It's closing."

We noticed the bodies moving past us toward the exit. I nodded. "We should get going soon."

I swore I saw a flash of disappointment cross her features, but only for a second before a look of excitement crept across her face.

"Hey, you want to go somewhere?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

Smirking, she stood, pulling at my arm. "I know a place, c'mon."

With no time to protest, she pulled me, and I had to nearly jog to keep up. I watched her hair, looking nearly silver against the bright lights at the parking area, fly behind her as she ran toward the Uber line.

We waited, and I slipped my sunglasses back on, and tried not to be obvious.

Once our turn came, she leaned forward to give the driver the address, quiet enough so I wouldn't hear. The driver raised a brow.

"I'm pretty sure it's closed for the night."

She waved at him. "Just go. It'll be fine."

With a nod, he began driving. I stared at her. "Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?"

Her teeth flashed. "You'll have to wait and find out." And she turned to look out at the darkness beyond her window.

Something inside me wasn't worried.

We walked along the boardwalk, out onto the sand. We could hear the soft waves crashing, but it was difficult to see beyond she shoreline.

"Welcome to Lake Michigan!"

The stars, bright and vast, seemed to bounce off of the stillness of the water. It was breathtaking. She bound ahead of me, slipping her shoes off and holding them. Her eyes were fixed on the water, before she dropped down in the sand, looking up at the sky.

I followed suit, taking a heavy seat next to her. It was so quiet, so calm. We weren't supposed to be here at midnight, but something in the chilled air felt so serene.

"What did you call me before?" Her voice was even, still looking at the sky.

"Hm?" I had to shake out of my thoughts.

"At the festival. You called me a name. In another language."

I smiled. "Pärla." She looked back at me. "It means gem."

A warm grin spread across her lips. "I like that." She echoed her earlier sentiment.

It occurred to me at that point, that she still had not told me her first name.

"What else do I call you?"

Her eyes narrowed, thinking. What was there to think about?

"I think that'll do."

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Her gaze turned back up to the sky. "Pärla. That's good."

"You're not going to tell me your name?" Confusion laced my voice.

Hugging her knees to her chest, her eyes transfixed on the stars, she bit her lip. "Not yet."

It was strange, but what could I do?

Silence fell over us again, but she eventually spoke up.

"Do you ever miss Sweden?"

Clearing my throat, I mimicked her body language, pulling my knees up.

"Sometimes. It's my home."

Her lips were pulled in a tight line, and I saw what looked to be a tear brimming at her eyes. "I never miss mine. I'm never going back."

"Why not?"

Turning to look at me, a slow tear rolled down her cheek, but she held a sad smile. "I'm happy right where I am."

Trying to process what she said, I struggled, because all I could feel was the urge to grab the tear with my finger, and wipe it from her face. I kept my hands to myself, however.

"So," I tried to lighten the conversation. "how long have you been a fan?"

This made a genuine grin crack across her face. "About a year. I heard you guys for the first time on TikTok. When I looked into the music, I was hooked."

I nodded, listening to the smooth sounds of the waves. "Yeah, that's how a lot of people found us."

"It's good music. I really enjoyed the new album."

"Yeah, it was fun to make."

She looked directly at me. "Do you like being in a band? What's it like?"

That made me huff out a laugh. "It's something else, that's for sure. Chaotic, at times. Rewarding, most others."

Amused, she crossed her legs under her and turned her body to face me. "What are the other guys like?" I raised a brow and she smiled sheepishly. "I'm not trying to fangirl, just curious."

Shaking my head, I turned to face her as well. "Nick is awesome. Mediator when things get tense. He tends to keep a cool head easier than the rest of us." I sighed. "Folio is...young. He's so lighthearted, and full of life. I envy that sometimes." She smiled at that.

"And Noah is..." I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. "Brilliant, but can be a lot sometimes."

"Like how?"

"Like," I intertwined my fingers. "he gets anxious. He's a perfectionist, so there's never room for error. It can be a pain in the ass, but we owe a lot of our success to it."

She nodded. "He's talented."

"Very. So, we put up with it, mostly."

Peering up at me from under her lashes, she spoke low. "And what about you, Jolly? What are you like?"

This gave me pause. How do I answer that?

"I'm..." I really had to think about that answer. "I don't know, really. I'm just, me? The guys call me the 'Dad' of the group, but I'm really only a few years older than Nick."

A hand slid over my knee, and I glanced down at it. "Well, I don't know you very well. Only from what time we've spent the last few hours, but I think you're very interesting."

Resting my chin on a fist, I considered her words. "Do you?"

"Yeah, I do. I think you're very sweet. And complex."

"Complex?"

She let out a giggle, which broke the quiet air with a sweet sound.

"Well, you got in an Uber with a complete stranger, without knowing where you're going, and now you're sitting on a beach in the middle of the night."

This made me smirk. "Point taken."

"That's shows adventure. I like it."

I focused on the ring piercing her left nostril, and the small batch of freckles on her nose. Her hair was hanging long, the moonlight illuminating it.

I felt the pull, the same one that brings the planets together. The pull that gravity is made of. Her eyes flashed back and forth between mine, and her lips parted so slightly. Instinctively, I leaned close to her until I could feel her breath against my face. It was cool, almost cold.

When the soft skin of her lips touched mine, she took a breath in, gasping.

My hand lifted to press against her cheek, pulling her closer, and pressing our lips together.

Like a lightning bolt struck the sand between us, we were lit up with energy. Her body lunged toward me, knees climbing up into my lap as she kissed me, tongue pressing into my mouth. My hands wrapped around to her back, pulling her into me, as she writhed against me.

Her hips pressed down, jeans grinding against mine, the lack of friction making it nearly unbearable. My lips kissed down to her neck, sucking and biting at the soft skin. Her hair had fallen over her face, eyes fluttered closed. Her fingers were grazing down my chest, pulling at the fabric of my t-shirt, and eventually landing to the button of my jeans.

My own hands located the access point of her pants, popping them open. Disconnecting for a moment, she pulled back to shimmy out of her jeans, leaving her in a pair of black panties, kneeling in the sand in front of me.

Staring directly into my eyes, she reached to my jeans and opened them effortlessly, unzipping them, my aching cock bulging against the fabric of my boxers. Her hand slipped to the waistband, freeing my erection. I stared at her with intent. Something in her eyes was dark, something I couldn't place.

"Do you want to?" Her voice was so small. So desperate.

I couldn't respond, so I only reached for her, pulling her face back to me. I laid her down on her back, leaning over her and letting my mouth mold over hers, one hand slipping down her stomach, to her core.

My fingers easily grazed past the elastic of the underwear, running through the soft patch of curls just underneath, until I felt the moisture of her lips between my fingers.

She moaned into my mouth as I slipped my middle finger inside of her, curling it to press against that soft, sweet spot that had her breathing erratic.

"Fuck." She breathed against my mouth. My hand was pumping her hard, a delicious wet sound nearly drowned out by the waves behind us.

"I don't have a condom on me, Pärla."

Her eyes snapped open, and she smiled. "I'm okay, if you are."

Morals? Rational thought? Responsibility? What is that?

I was okay. More than okay. This could be bad. Dangerous, even. Something in my gut - no - my soul told me that this needed to happen, and it needed to happen now.

Steady fingers pulled her panties down, slipping them off, before I hovered over her, lining the head up with her entrance.

As slow and precise as possible, I pressed in, my eyes falling closed with the vibrant sensation that engulfed me. She let out a long, deep groan with me.

"Oh God, Jolly."

I let my lips fall back down to the flesh on her neck, thrusting in and out comfortably, savoring the feel of her on my skin.

We went on like this for longer than I would've expected. Our voices echoed off of the water, the darkness swallowing us as our bodies synchronized. Her pussy tightened around me each time I pulled out, begging for more.

Eventually, I sped up the snapping of my hips, leaning up to get a better angle, pulling her knee up to her chest.

Her hands dug into the sand around us, head careened backward.

"Oh Jolly, fuck, so fucking good." She was biting down on her lip so hard, it was sure to bleed.

I was so close. I needed her release. "Come for me, Pärla." My breathing began stuttering. "Let go, for me."

A long, visceral moan left her lips, and I felt her walls spasm around me as I began emptying into her, my orgasm smacking me hard in the chest.

I pumped us through it, one hand holding her face, watching the waves of pleasure rush over it.

Once we slowed to a stop, I collapsed next to her, a lazy smile on my face.

"That was..." I started, too tired to finish my sentence.

"Unreal." Her words were stark. Matter of fact. Her eyes were looking back up at the stars.

I followed suit, zipping my jeans back up.

"I'm glad I met you today, Jolly."

I let my eyes fall on her again, and smiled. "Me too, Pärla."

My eyes opened to a flashlight shining directly on them.

"Hey, asshole!" I squinted, my hands coming up to shield my vision from the abrasive light. "You can't fucking sleep here. Go find a fucking shelter!"

"What?" I sat up, looking up at the person in front of me. A police officer.

"You've got to get out of here, man. I don't want to take you in."

I held my hands up in defense, standing to my feet. My eyes glanced around, realizing I was very much alone.

"Where's the girl I was with?"

The cop raised an eyebrow. "No one but you here, bud. Let's go."

His hand grabbed my arm, leading me off the beach. I turned back toward the water, hollering out into the darkness.

"Pärla?!"

No response. Just silence.

A week had gone by, and I was back home.

I had done everything I could think of to find her, but still came up with nothing. No name. No number. Just a physical description and vague location. Have you any idea how many blonde-haired, blue-eyed, tan-skinned girls are in Daytona, FL? It was comical.

After about four days, I had pretty much given up. Part of me felt hurt. Why had she left? Was she okay? She knew me, why hadn't she reached out?

Was she just in it for the sex? Or to say she screwed a member of the band? Did she regret it?

Something felt wrong. Her presence, her energy. It felt so genuine. I struggled to believe she really just ran off, leaving me to fall asleep alone on that beach.

I had Ubered back to the hotel, heading straight to Noah's room to tell him what happened. It was 4AM by the time I made it back, and he looked at me like I was insane.

Still, he showed his human side for a moment, and empathized with me, offering to help try and find her.

Back in Los Angeles, I was sitting in the studio, trying to perfect a guitar rift, when Noah bounded in with Folio. We had everyone together for the next two weeks before we left for the next festival.

"I don't get why people are so scummy."

I raised an eyebrow at Folio's words. "What's that?"

He turned to look at me, falling into a chair. "This article, man. About Upheaval?"

I stopped my strumming, looking up to give him my full attention.

I took note that Noah was scrolling on his phone fervently.

"What about it?"

Noah looked up at me, pursing his lips. "I guess someone got really hurt?"

"Not hurt. Someone fucking died, dude."

This made me furrow my brows. "What?"

"Yeah. Some girl got trampled in the fucking crowd."

Noah rolled his eyes. "The article I read said she had a seizure, and fell into the crowd. They didn't get her out in time."

"During which set?"

"Sleep Token." Noah responded.

"Wow, really? I saw damn near the entire thing. I didn't see anything happen."

"Well, that's the point, man. No one did, until the end. By that time, she had choked or something." Noah handed his phone to me, and I noticed it was scrolled to the bottom of the article.

"It's bullshit they waited so long to say something." Folio chimed in.

Noah shrugged. "Trying to protect the festival's reputation, I guess. Too bad. She was fucking cute, too."

My thumb scrolled to the top of the article, taking a moment as it was long.

When the picture at the top came into view, my hand that held my rig went slack, dropping the instrument on the floor.

It didn't make sense. It was a mistake of some kind.

25 Year Old Female Dies At Music Festival - Safety Protocols Being Investigated

The photograph that stared back at me, mocking my dropped jaw and widened eyes.

"Jolly, you good, dude?" Folio asked as he reached down to grab my guitar, now on the floor.

I couldn't respond. My blood had coagulated in my veins. My skin hardened to stone as my eyes stared at the picture, mind blanking.

The girl in the picture stared into my very soul.

Dirty blonde hair. Ice blue eyes. Small patch of freckles. Plush pink lips.

Pärla.

#jolly karlsson #jolly karlsson fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #fanfic #bad omens cult

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