#rip matthew but he's not included in this

[sturnioz]

‘THIS IS (NOT) EASY’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut, fluff, angst

word count. 13.7k

❝being in this friends with benefits relationship with you was not as easy as i thought it would be...❞

content warnings. friends with benefits au, crack humour, explicit content, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, squirting, p in v, unprotected sex (creampies), big dick matt, doggy position, alcohol consumption and mentions of weed, flirty!chris,

—authors note. i've actually written this before but for a different person on another blog. so if you happen to stumble across that somehow and notice the similarities, its me lol. i just liked the plot so much and i wanted to use it for matt.

“Wait, you what?!”

You gasp out loud, not caring about the loudness of your tone, voice piercing throughout the library alongside the squeaking legs of your chair across the wooden flooring as you abruptly straight up in your seat. 

Other students with their heads shoved in books and laptop screens peek over in curiosity while one irritated classmate leans over the table to shush you angrily, warning you about the volume of your voice but you pay them no mind, gaze fixed on Matt who sits across from you sheepishly.

Matthew Sturniolo—one of the heartthrobs on campus, the quiet and mysterious type that turns curious heads, and undoubtedly the kindest guy in class has been your best friend for the past few years. You met during a practice hockey game where fourteen-year-old Matt had tried to score a goal to impress his brothers and newfound friends, only for the hockey puck to come flying over the glass barrier, hurling straight towards your face and leaving you with a swollen eyeball and a busted up nose.

Matt was unbelievably apologetic, going to extreme lengths by buying candies and ripping up flowers from potted plants to give to you whenever you both crossed paths, begging for your forgiveness over and over again desperately until you socked him in the face, giving him a hefty nosebleed and a bruised cheek in return. 

A toothy grin spread across your cheeks and you finally had accepted the gifts out of his hands, a happy ‘now we’re even!’ leaving your lips as you had ripped open the candies, offering him a treat, offering him your friendship.

The two of you became inseparable and if someone saw one of you, they knew that the other would be trailing along behind them. You were two peas in a pod—the dynamic duo. You were so joined at the hip that when you both enrolled for college, you tried signing up for a dorm on campus, wanting and hoping to be roommates. 

It didn’t happen.

Matt ended up rooming with one of his friends, Tyler, while you got stuck with some girl you didn’t even know but had become acquainted with over a short period of time. 

Still, you and Matt never strayed far from each other even with your roommates in the picture. He sleeps over at your place every now and then, and vice versa. You’re certain that he’s even claimed a whole drawer in your dresser, filled with his spare shirts, sweatpants and underwear.

A lot of your mutual friends, including his brothers, found it suspicious how you two could be so close without anything going on between you both, complaining how the two of you can’t be just friends. It was partially the truth.

You are not just friends, you’re best friends.

“I’m just saying, that you’re complaining about not hooking up with someone for a few days while I haven’t slept with someone for, like, a month,” Matt repeats to you with flushed cheeks, adjusting the black cap on his head with one hand while the other skilfully twirls a pen around his fingers, “Times are hard, kid. I got assignments up to my ass—”

“There’s no way you haven’t hooked up with someone lately,” You hiss through gritted teeth, refusing to believe a word that comes out of his mouth when he’s talking about such nonsense. 

A nearby student from the table next to yours shifts around in their seat in annoyance to look at you, pressing their finger aggressively against their lips to tell you to quiet down and you scoff in response, throwing them the middle finger with your own irritancy and annoyance.

“Can you not?” Matt scolds as his hand firmly wraps around your own, squeezing in warning as he guides it back down to the table. He offers an apologetic smile to the student, and as always, it works like a charm as they shyly smile back and resume their work. Another scoff leaves your lips and Matt turns his attention back to you. “I’m telling you the truth, you know.”

“Bullshit,” You murmur, sending him a glare. “That girl from my study group was over at your dorm last weekend—I saw her Snapchat stories.”

“Dude, we’re both in the same study group. She came over for some of my notes and ended up staying longer because Tyler offered her an ounce of his ‘premium weed’,” Matt explains, adding a sarcastic emphasis around the word ‘premium weed’ which has you snorting, knowing that there was nothing premium about Tyler’s stash. “She eventually ended up staying over and hooking up with Chris anyways.”

Your face contorts into a look of confusion at that, “What? Chris? He isn’t even your roommate.”

“I know. Tyler’s sheets are still in the dryer,” Matt grimaces. “But Nick has had this ‘sex-free’ policy on his and Chris’ dorm ever since that guy screwed him over last weekend.” 

“Oh…” You pause, amused at Nick’s new policy, but then the realisation finally hits you. “So that’s why Tyler didn’t have any sheets on his bed when I came over on Monday.”

“Y—wait, you came over Monday?” Matt snaps his head towards you, eyes narrowing as he jabs his pen in your direction. “Did you fuck in my bed?!”

“No. Of course not,” You gasp, deeply offended by his accusation and Matt lets out a sigh of relief, relaxing his shoulders as he leans back into his chair. “We actually fucked on the couch—”

“Are you fucking kidding me—”

“That’s besides the point!” You cut him off before he can grill you, silencing him by raising your hand in front of his face when he tries to retaliate again. “The fact remains, Matt, is that you haven’t fucked anyone in a whole month. And that’s like… I don’t know, it’s like blasphemy!”

Matt deadpans, his expression devoid of amusement. “I’m pretty sure that’s not blasphemy.”

“Whatever. You know what I mean,” You dismiss, shoving your books and pens as far away from you as you possibly could, no longer interested in studying the endless amount of words on that page now that you’ve discovered your best friend hasn't hooked up with anyone in so long. You sit comfortably in your chair as you fully give him your attention, tucking your legs beneath you. “I can’t believe it…”

“You’re telling me,” Matt huffs, deciding to set aside his own studies too. He rubs his face in frustration, groaning beneath his palms. You console him with a frown, reaching out to rub his shoulder in sympathy. Matt’s hands drop to his lap, and he shoots you a glare, “I can’t believe you didn’t believe me. Why would I lie about something like that?!”

You’re quick to defend yourself, “You fuck more than I do. Of course I'm not gonna believe a word you say when you tell me something like that!” 

And it’s true, Matt does have a higher number of sexual encounters compared to you. His boyish charm and adorable face doesn’t hide the fact that his body count is probably in the twenties, and that his online bank statements are likely to reveal the frequent purchases of packs of condoms (and maybe a few Plan B pills for extra precaution). Matt has always been cautious and responsible, which doesn’t surprise you. He’s not one to take unnecessary risks or potentially impregnate someone, especially a stranger.

“You didn’t have to say it out loud like that…” Matt mutters under his breath, cheeks dusting a slight shade of pink as another student turns around in their seat to glare at the pair of you, but her eyes widen comically as she sees Matt. Shyly, she tucks her hair behind her ears with a kind smile that Matt reciprocates. You lean back in your seat with a roll of your eyes just as Matt brings his attention back to you, “Are we done with this conversation? I’d rather talk about something more interesting than my nonexistent sex life.”

“Fine,” You relent. “Are you going to Nate’s later?”

“No, kid’s got some important hockey meeting or something, so we’re hanging another time,” Matt sighs softly, removing his cap to run his fingers through his hair before readjusting it. “Would you be cool if I came over yours?”

“Sure,” You grin, already shoving your belongings into your bag, eager to leave the library as soon as possible. Matt’s lip curls up in amusement as he follows in suit, packing his own things into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. 

As you glance over, you notice the girl still staring at Matt and a mischievous smirk forms on your face as you slam your hand on the desk in front of her, capturing her attention.

You jab your thumb in Matt’s direction and you teasingly offer, “If you want his number. I can give it to you. He’s been stuck in a dry spell recently, so—”

Before you can finish your sentence, Matt’s fingers curl around your elbow, yanking you away from the bewildered girl with a huff, “Move.”

“I’ve been thinking about something…” You break the comfortable silence between you both after a few hours of binge-watching a series and indulging in takeout, dropping your pizza crust into the cardboard box and pushing it aside. Matt sits beside you on the couch, his own pizza in hand, gaze fixed on the TV screen, listening to what the characters are saying.

Matt glances at you with a quick, pointed look as he chews, “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Wow. Funny.” You deadpan with a roll of your eyes and he chuckles under his breath, turning his attention back to the TV screen. “Anyway, and hear me out before you say some dumb shit. I’ve been thinking about something that relates to that little problem we both have, and I may have come up with a way to fix it.”

“Why are you still hung up on this?” Matt complains between mouthfuls. “I don’t want to be constantly reminded that I’m not having sex—”

You quickly raise your hand to hush him and he goes cross eyed to stare at your palm in confusion. “I said hear me out.”

“Fine.”

“Great!“ You exclaim with a grin, “Okay, so, you and I are the best of friends, right? We always help each other out and—”

“Where is this going?”

“Hear. Me. Out.” You warn once more, emphasising each word. Matt sighs, nodding his head for you to continue. “We always help each other out, correct? And there’s no awkwardness between us, which is what also makes us so close. Remember that time we had to make out in front of Jeremy so he would stop hitting on me? And that time I pretended to be your girlfriend so Gracie would get the hint that you didn’t want to sleep with her anymore?”

“Well, yeah, but that didn’t exactly work out because we ended up hooking up with them a few days after it happened—”

“That’s not the point,” You say as you frustratingly rub at your temples. “The point is that we always help each other, no matter what the situation is, because we’re best friends. So, as best friends, I think we should help each other out with our little situation.”

“And how can we help each other out?”

“By fucking each other.”

The second those words leave your mouth, Matt chokes on his food, banging his fist against his chest as he coughs, his eyes watering and face turning red. The sight of his reaction has you cackling, wishing you had your phone nearby to take a picture.

After a few moments, Matt manages to regain his breath, reaching down to grab his bottle of water from the side of the couch and gulping it down almost immediately.

You click your tongue against your teeth, a playful smirk on your face. “That was a little dramatic.”

“And you’re crazy,” Matt shoots back, water droplets trickling down his chin as he looks at you with wide eyes. “Do you realise what you just said?”

You nod your head, “Perfectly.”

“We are not fucking. It’ll be weird,” Matt says, you instantly find offence to that, your jaw dropping in disbelief. Matt rolls his eyes at your reaction. “We’re best friends. Best friends don’t do that type of shit—Stop looking at me like that!”

You huff, turning your head away from him childishly. “I’m just trying to help us out. I don’t think it’ll be weird… people have done weirder.”

“Are you aware of how many friendships have been ruined because they fucked?” Matt questions you and you take a moment to ponder, wincing as you can easily name a few from the top of your head. “Exactly. As much as I find you attractive, I’m not going to ruin our friendship. We’ve been best friends for too long.”

Your head slowly turns back to Matt, who’s already looking at you. A grin spreads across your face as you flirtatiously bat your eyelashes at him, “You think I’m attractive?”

“My god, you’ve un-fucking-believable, I swear…” Matt trails off, muttering under his breath as he rubs at his forehead in frustration. You beam at the thought of getting under his skin, but eventually you roll your eyes and reach over to press your foot into his side, playfully nudging him to bring his attention back to you. 

Matt looks over at you with a deadpan expression and you continue to grin at him, tilting your head to the side as you admire the view.

Truthfully, you’ve always found Matt attractive even if it was in a friendly way and you’d be lying if you said that hooking up with him has never crossed your mind, but that’s mainly because you’re nosy and want to see what all the fuss is about when you constantly hear the girls fawn about what he’s like in bed.

Some say he’s extremely giving, tending to their needs in all ways possible. Some also say he’s demanding and rough, one hand curled into their hair as he’s fucking them from behind, spitting out degrading words into their ears. But you’ve also heard that he sometimes comes across as needy and desperate, begging for his cock to be sucked and to be made a mess out of.

It piques your interest a lot… maybe it’s wrong of you to think that way about someone you know so well, but you’re human after all, sometimes you can’t help the way you think about certain people.

“Look,” You speak up first, letting out a sigh. “What I said was just a suggestion, okay? If you don’t want to do it, then that’s fine—”

“How do you know that it won’t ruin our friendship?” Matt cuts you off and your eyebrows raise in surprise at the question. “We’ve been best friends for, like, six years or something right? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to throw that all away because we messed up and decided to fuck each other just because we’re ‘sex deprived’.”

“We’re not going to get into anything super serious,” You reassure him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure, we’re probably going to end up in some type of friends with benefits situation, but we’re not going to include any of that official or exclusive title bullshit. We just hook up for a release when we can’t find it anywhere else, it’s as simple as that. No complications.”

“So…” Matt purses his lips in deep thought. “We can still fuck other people?”

You scoff, “Of course. You think I’d drop Tyler for you that easily?”

“Fuck you.”

Your lips curl into a smirk, “I’m hoping you would.”

Matt stares at you for a brief moment before chuckling, shaking his head as his tongue prods at his cheek. The little action spurs something within you but you remain seated, wanting Matt to be the one to make the first move if he was game in fucking you to help relieve the stress you’re both feeling… maybe Matt a little more considering that you fucked Tyler a few days prior, but you were desperate to be filled again. 

You watch Matt sit in silence for a moment, seemingly deep in his thoughts as his eyebrows knit together, thinking about the pros and cons. His hands come up to pull the cap off of his head completely, his hair messily falling in front of his eyes and your thighs press together as the thought of seeing it between your legs with your fingers threading through the locks. 

You internally laugh at how deluded you sound.

“What time does your roommate get back tonight?” Matt questions you, his low tone bringing you out of your own thoughts and your body buzzes with excitement, fumbling as you reach over to snag your phone off the coffee table to check the time, informing him that she won’t be home for another three hours. “Alright. Good to know.”

“So?” You press, dropping your phone back down as you look at him expectedly. “What’s it going to be?”

Matt takes a deep breath, “No titles.”

“None at all.”

“We can still fuck whoever we want.”

“Whoever, whenever.”

“And most importantly…” Matt pauses with a deep sigh, leaning over the couch closer to you and he holds up his hand, his pinkie outstretched. “We’re still best friends.”

“It’ll be like nothing ever changed.” You promise softly with a smile, curling your pinky finger around his own, squeezing it tightly to keep your promise.

It’s silent between you both for a while, and you can clearly see the cogs turning inside Matt’s head as he thinks about his next move, yet you’re the one that decides to take that initiative.

You rip your hand away from his to throw your arms around his shoulders, fingers buried into his locks as you drag him towards you to eagerly plant your lips on his. You’re surprised at how fast Matt responds to the kiss as his hands come up to cup your cheeks, tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

The plenty drunken kisses you’ve shared with Matt to help each other out of sticky situations is nothing like the kiss you’re experiencing right now, and it catches you extremely off guard. You were expecting him to allow you to take control of what was happening and lead him through it considering you were the one to bring it up, but with the way Matt’s pushing you backwards to lay you down on the couch and crawling between your open legs with his lips still attached to yours, you’re stumped. 

“Wait,” You stop him, pressing your palm against his chest to push him back and Matt moves away with raw, wet lips, his fingers hovering above the waistband of your shorts. “Why are we doing this on the couch? I have a bed we can use.”

Matt glares down at you, “That didn’t stop you and Tyler from fucking on my couch.”

“Actually, there were no sheets on Tyler’s bed, so—”

“Think of this as payback,” Matt smiles at you sweetly and you snarl, knocking your leg against his side with force and he laughs through clenched teeth, “Besides, you’ve probably fucked a lot of people on this couch… Do you really care?”

You blink up at him. “Are you implying that I’m a slut?”

Matt shrugs, “Maybe, yeah.”

“That’s so hot of you.”

Matt chuckles and leans down to reconnect your lips, fingers unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down your legs with your underwear, carelessly throwing them somewhere to the side and you hiss at the cold air that hits, yearning for warmth.

Matt’s lips trail down your throat and to the collar of your shirt, nipping and sucking at your skin, heading south to where your thighs shake in anticipation. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as you watch him shuffling down to lay between your legs, hands pushing against your knees to spread you further apart, the coldness of his rings prickling at your skin.

Your own hand reaches down to thread your fingers through his hair, trying to tug him closer but he barely budges, gazing up at you with his brows knit together.

You whine, “Hurry.”

“Are you always this impatient?”

“Of course,” You look at him like he’s stupid. “We’re both doing this for a reason and it’s to cum, not to take our sweet little time and—Oh shit…”

“Fucking yapping. You talk too much.” Matt drags his tongue through your folds, the pink muscle swirling over your clit and your body jerks in shock at the sensation, a gasp fleeting past your lips as your grip on his hair tightens, feeling his tongue wiggle between your folds and licking upwards to flick over your clit before his fingers tease at your entrance.

Your body goes slack against the couch cushions, mouth stuck open as he eases two digits inside the warmth of your pussy, curling his fingers upwards as his lips wrap around your sensitive clit and you whine, tugging at his hair a little harder which causes him to groan, the vibrations causing goosebumps to shoot up your spine.

You’re in shock at how well Matt actually uses his tongue and fingers. Of course you’ve heard stories from your girl friends and even Matt himself, but you didn’t expect him to be this good and it completely catches you off track, unable to control the noises that rip from the back of your throat when he begins to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt while using his tongue to work wonders on your clit.

“Matt,” You whisper his name with a moan, thighs twitching and closing in around his head. You feel him smirk against your pussy and you squeeze your thighs in warning. “Stop it.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?” He asks, his tone a little condescending as he raises his head, mouth glistening with your arousal. His fingers continue hitting that spot that has your toes curling and back arching against the cushions. “You can cum, if you want.”

“You’re so fucking cocky,” You tut, fighting the urge to smile but you amusement ends up slipping away and is overcome b y pleasure as he pumps his fingers a few more times, the tightening band in your stomach snapping as you cum all over his fingers, gasping through high pitched whines and trying to control the convulsing movement of your body.

“That’s it,” Matt hums, pressing a quick kiss to your pussy. “Good job.”

You choke out your words, unable to come up with a full sentence as your hand falls limp onto his shoulder, fingers twitching over the material as you breathe heavily. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Me eating you out,” He answers matter-of-factly, a hint of smugness in his tone as he pops his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean. Your mouth drops in shock at the action and he meets your gaze, “You good?”

“Yeah… good.” You nod dumbly, completely astonished at how nonchalant Matt is acting as you watch him tug his sweatpants and boxers down his legs awkwardly when he sits up, eyes automatically zoning in on his cock that slaps against his stomach once freed from its confinements. 

Honestly, you have seen Matt naked. He’s comfortable with stripping in front of you and changing without any thought. But… you’ve never seen Matt hard, and the sight alone is enough to have your mouth watering.

Your best friend is huge.

“Okay,” Matt mumbles to himself, crawling forward and hooking his hands under the back of your knees to pull you closer to him, his thumbs caressing your skin. “Are you sure you’re ready? You know there’s no turning back from this, right?”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” You grin as you wiggle against him excitedly. “Give me what you got, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.” Matt clicks his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head as he slowly eases his cock into you. Slowly, your eyes start to widen at the stretch, the burn obvious in your core and thighs, and your hand flies down to his in hopes to slow down his movements despite him going as slow as he possibly can.

You try to breathe steadily through your nose, lips pressed together tightly as your wince at the uncomfortable ache that spreads, your pussy clamping down on him as if you were trying to prevent him from pushing any further.

“Ow.” You whisper, twisting your hips to try and get comfortable and relax but you wince at each movement you make, causing Matt to raise his gaze from where you’re connected to look into your eyes, his own pooling with concern.

“Are you okay?”

You hum with a curt nod of your head, “Nothing of that significant size has been up there before, you know? I’m just… feeling uncomfortable, that’s all.”

Matt’s lips curl into a grin, “You calling my dick big?”

You send him a hardened glare, “Not as big as your fucking head.”

Matt laughs loudly and he lays his hand flat across your lower stomach as he adjusts himself between your legs, head ducking down slightly to watch himself slowly push into you once more, but the second your legs tense up, he sighs apologetically and strokes your stomach, sliding his cock out of you and you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness, looking at him with a pout.

“Give me a second, okay?” Matt orders you, gently grabbing your waist to help turn you around on all fours. The brows pinch together at the new position, but your body seems to relax when you feel his hands slide around your back and press down tightly, arching it to hold you in place as you feel his cock at your entrance once more. “This should feel better. But tell me if it hurts? I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“Just—” You grit your teeth together. “Just fuck me, Matt.”

“You got it.” Matt whispers as he pushes himself back into you again at a slower pace and you gasp, your fingers gripping the arm of the couch, head dropping low to rest on the cushions as you try to control your breathing. The new position was definitely better than the last, but you can still feel him stretch you out to fit you around his cock. “Is my dick really that big?”

“Are you asking because you’re concerned or because you want me to boost your ego?”

Matt smiles, “Maybe both.”

You don’t even get the chance to retaliate with your own snarky comment as Matt fills you up completely, hips pressing to your ass and cry out at how full you’re feeling, unable to think properly as he pulls back, leaving the tip nestled in your cunt before thrusting back in.

Matt curses loudly behind you, fingers digging into your ski as he rocks his hips into you, his thrusts sending your body jerking forwards. You squeeze around his cock and he grunts, changing his pace and you can’t help but fuck youtself back onto him, whining and panting at the pleasure that swirls in the pit of your tummy. 

The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin is enough to have your eyes rolling back in pleasure, driving you even closer to the edge along with his rapid thrusts and continuous cursing. You’re positive you can even hear him praise you a little bit, muttering about how tight your pussy is. 

You would’ve never guessed he was into such dirty talk. Matt continues to amaze you.

Your pussy clamps around his cock when you feel his hand sneak beneath your body to reach between your thighs, the pads of his fingers rubbing diligent circles on your clit and you mewl, your own hand coming down to latch around his wrist.

“Shit,” You slur your words, drool seeping past the corner of your lips. “So good—fuck, Matt, don’t stop—s’good.”

“You’re funny if you think I’m gonna stop.” Matt chuckles behind you and you can feel the tears build up in your waterline as Matt leans over your body, holding himself up with one hand on the arm of the couch, his other still rubbing circles on your clit. You gasp as how deep he’s nestled within you and it has you seeing stars, your toes curling and your body tensing up as his cock fucks into your cunt, repeatedly hitting that spot over and over before your second orgasm of the night hits you violently. 

Your screams are muffled by the cushions, walls pulsating around his cock as you cum, struggling to hold up your own weight as your body falls limp on the couch. Pleasure buzzes through your veins and it sends you mind whirling as Matt fucks you through it to reach his own high, moving his hand from your clit to rest on your lower back, arching your ass up to fuck you deeper.

“Where do you want me to cum?” He pants heavily, thumb stroking the bottom of your spine. “Fuck—tell me where I can cum.”

“Anywhere you want.” You slur your words, craning your head to the side to look at him, capturing how his eyes widen slightly.

“Anywhere?” Matt repeats as he slows down his movements and you nod your head, only to yelp in shock when he pulls out of you completely and flips your body around once more. You stare at him in surprise as he crawls up your body, resting a hand on your cheek and pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. “Here?”

You don’t give him a verbal answer, instead you open wide, welcoming him and Matt grins, pushing the head of his cock into your mouth and sighing as your lips close around him, suckling on his tip as he cums in long spurts down your throat, brows knitting together in pleasure and moaning softly as your tongue presses against his slit, swallowing everything he gives you. 

There’s a comfortable silence as Matt removes himself from above you, choosing to drop down in the limited space between your body and the couch, running his fingers through his sweaty hair as he tries to catch his breath.

It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what had just happened, staring between Matt’s naked lower half and yours before you abruptly sit up, rolling onto your knees that pop as you stare down at him incredulously. 

“Matt!” You screech, punching his shoulder with such force that has him wincing. 

“Ow!” He hisses, rubbing the area. “Why—”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were that good?” You immediately cut him off, not allowing him to finish as you shake your head quickly. “We should’ve done this ages ago!”

Matt rolls his eyes in annoyance despite the grin that spreads across his cheeks as he throws his arm over his face, “Shut up.”

“Okay, so, let me get this straight,” Nick pauses to chew and swallow his sandwich, pointing between you and Matt on the opposite side of the table. “You two decided to hook up last night because neither of you have hooked up with anyone in a long time, and now you’ve made some sort of deal that when you can’t find release somewhere else, you’ll go to each other?”

“Yeah.”

“What the actual fuck?!” Nick exclaims, looking at you both as if you’ve grown an extra head before abruptly turning to Chris and Tyler who are sitting beside each other silently, watching everything unfold. “Why are you guys saying anything?!”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be,” Chris shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly before he turns his attention to you, furrowing his eyebrows. “Although, I am kind of offended you didn’t ask me to fuck you.”

You grimace, “It makes me queasy thinking about where your dick has been, if I’m honest.”

“When was the last time you got tested?” Matt teases his younger triplet, a slight smirk curling at the ends of his lips as he leans back into his chair, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he manspreads. Chris rolls his eyes and retaliates by throwing him the middle finger.

“And you’re okay with this?” Nick questions Tyler who slowly nods his head as he rolls a blunt beneath the table, lips pursed in concentration. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tyler questions back, lifting his gaze to Nick and raising a brow before looking back down to his lap. “We just fuck, that’s it. And besides, sometimes I get so faded that I can’t even get my dick up. She needs good dick and I can’t give it to her when I’m that out of it.”

You gasp in awe, reaching across the table to grip his arm. “You are so thoughtful!”

“So I’m the only sane fucking person that thinks this is a stupid idea?” Nick shakes his head in disbelief, biting into his sandwich with a deep sigh. His eyes suddenly widen, a piece of lettuce hanging from his mouth as he erratically pats his pockets. “Where’s Nate? Somebody text Nate right now.”

“Please, you know damn well Nate isn’t going to give a shit,” Chris cackles with a grin, adjusting the beanie on his head. “Pretty sure he fucked his girl best friend last year.”

“Yeah? And where is she now?” Nick looks at all of you expectedly for an answer and you frown, sinking into your seat with your arms crossed over your chest. “Exactly.”

“Come on, kid, it’s not like that…” Matt tries to explain. “We talked about it. We’re not doing any of that exclusive or official title stuff. We’re not making it weird.”

“Meaning we can still hook up with whoever we want.” You add on, eyes flickering over to Tyler and you give him a pretty smile, only for him to look back at you with a smirk and give you a flirtatious wink.

“So, what I’m hearing is,” Chris pauses, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he bats his eyelashes at you. “There’s still a chance for me?”

Nick immediately plugs his ears as he repeatedly mumbles, “I don’t not want to hear this. Stop it immediately. I hate it.”

“Hate what?” Nate’s voice interrupts from behind and you whiz around in your seat, grinning widely as you see Nate approaching your table with his hockey jersey in one hand and his books in the other. 

He greets you all with a smile, placing his belongings down on the table before grabbing an empty chair from another, the metal legs scraping across the floor as he drags it to place beside Matt, slapping his hand down on Matt’s shoulder in greeting as he sits down. 

“What are you talking about anyway?”

“They hooked up,” Nick immediately jumps straight into it as he points at the two of you and you sigh, throwing your head back in frustration. Matt laughs beside you. “And they’re going to continue to hook up whenever they don’t have anyone else to go to, so—”

“Oh, nice man.”

Nick stares at Nate, “No. Not nice. Not nice at all,” Nick shakes his head. “You’re all helpless. Dumb and helpless, every single one of you.”

Nate pulls a face, “I mean, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be—”

“That’s what I said~” Chris sings.

“And besides, they’re grown adults. They can do whatever they want.” Nate’s words make your brows raise with little surprise, watching as he flips open his book and grabs the pen that rests behind his ear, biting the cap off with his teeth before looking at you. “I’m surprised it took you both this look to actually hook-up… I thought it would’ve happened months ago.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just means I thought you two would’ve fucked months ago.” Nate smiles and shrugs his shoulders innocently, blowing the cap out of his mouth and watching it with his hand before he begins to scribble on the pages. You roll your eyes, glancing over at Matt who shrugs his own shoulders, not fully understanding the meaning of Nate’s words but chooses not to dwell on it any longer as he reaches for his drink, sipping through the straw as he gives his attention to Chris who angles his phone in his direction to show him something you could barely see. 

Nick shakes his head, still in disbelief as he shoves the last remaining bite of his sandwich into his mouth before grabbing his book out of his backpack to take notes alongside Nate. He then comically raises his head up to point his pen at you and Matt.

“Also, just to let you know, I don’t want to hear any complaining from either of you when this whole situationship bullshit ends up going to literal shit,” Nick warns before he slowly turns to the pen to point to himself, “Because I will laugh in your face and simply say, ‘I told you so’.”

A scoff leaves your lips as Matt speaks, “Relax, kid. Everything is going to be fine. Plus, this whole thing could just be a one time thing… It might not even happen again,” Matt turns to look at you. “Right?”

A smile finds its way onto your face as you lean your elbows on the table, chin resting on the palm of your hand as you give him an affirmative nod. “Right.”

“Fuck, Matt.” You moan out his name repeatedly, back arching off your bed, gripping the pillows resting behind your head with your mouth wide open. Matt’s fingers pump in and out of your pussy, squirting over his hand and splashing onto the bed sheets below you. 

He laughs as you shove your face into the crook of your arm, body trembling and breathing whines slipping past your lips from the overwhelming sensation of him fucking you with his fingers.

Your legs clamp shut around his hand but he’s already prying you back open with the other, holding them down to the bed as his fingers curl upwards, almost bringing you to tears at the pleasure in the pit of your tummy. 

“There we go…” Matt hums softly, milking you for every drop you can give. You quiver and gasp when Matt comes to a stop, the grin on his face evident as he pulls his fingers from your cunt and you whine, struggling to raise your foot and kick him in his side. He captures your ankle in his grasp, drawing circles with his fingertips. “You good?”

“You good?” You mock him, tone nasally. Your arms flop to your side as you take a deep breath, ignoring the way Matt’s laughing at you. “That was intense… I felt like I was going crazy.”

“Thank you,” Matt grins, eyes twinkling as he slips off your bed. “Your need to change your sheets though.”

“Wow. So gentlemanly of you to offer to help.” You mutter sarcastically under your breath, clicking your tongue against your teeth. You stand up from the bed and your knees buckle beneath you, causing you to panic and immediately reach out and grab onto a surface to steady yourself, throwing the middle finger up in Matt’s direction when he chuckles. 

He tells you to go shower while he takes care of the sheets and you immediately oblige, patting his arm in a quick thanks as you wobble out of your bedroom and into the bathroom, eager to clear yourself up after previous activities. 

You take longer than usual to shower, taking your time to scrub your body clean and even wash your hair, not even caring about what Matt could be doing inside your home as he waits for you, but you pause your routine when you actually begin to think about your relationship with Matt. 

It’s been almost three weeks since you started hooking up with Matt, showing up at each other's places whenever you’re in need of sex, getting it over and done with before hanging out properly, before even getting a bite to eat or binge watching a series. 

You still sleep with Tyler. You’ve even fucked Tyler and Matt on the same day. Matt doesn’t care, of course he doesn’t, and personally neither do you. But there have been a few moments where you start to recall the amount of times you had chosen Matt over Tyler… and it was a lot. 

You and Matt are supposed to fuck whenever you have no one else to go to. And yet, give the choice… you still chose Matt. 

A loud call of your name and a fist banging against the bathroom door startles you out of your thoughts, “I need to piss. Hurry up!”

“Just come in!” You yell back at him, frowning as you face the stream of water to let the soap run off your body as you mumble, “It’s not like you haven’t barged in before.”

You hear the door creak open behind the shower curtain and you poke your head around just in time for Matt to unzip his pants to relieve himself, his head tilting back with a sigh of relief. 

His eyes meet yours when he turns his head and his brows knit together, giving you an odd look. “What?”

“Can I ask you a question?” He blinks before giving you a quick nod. “Are you still fucking other people?”

“Yeah,” That answer relieves you a bit. “I was with Sadie last weekend.”

“I have another question.”

“Why are you—”

“I’m asking the questions,” You cut him off and Matt laughs, nodding for you to continue as he zips up his pants and washes his hands. “Has Sadie, or any other girl, been available on the same day that I’ve been available? Or asked you to come over?”

“Uh…” Matt ponders for a moment, bottom lip poking out his deep thought as he dries his hands on a towel. “Yeah, I think so.”

“And who did you end up choosing?”

“You.”

It shocks you at how fast he answers your question and you grip the shower curtain for support, the slippery floor of the shower almost making you tumblr. He chose you too… is that wrong? You’re uncertain and it makes you feel a little uneasy. Surely there must be a reasonable explanation to why you choose each other instead of fucking other available people.

“Why are you asking me that anyway?”

“Curious,” You answer quickly as you close the curtain to block him out and continue showering, ignoring the way he’s mumbling under his breath how strange you are. “Wait. I have another question.”

“Ask me when you’re down showering.”

“Why?” The tone of your voice turns sultry as you smirk, “Is knowing I’m naked behind this shower curtain turning you on?”

Matt doesn’t answer. Instead, his arm shoots out from behind the curtain, hand curling around the faucet tap to turn the temperature of the water, laughing like a maniac as he hears you scream from the cold water that splashes your skin.

You hated birthdays.

Actually, you hated your birthday. 

You hated knowing you’re getting older each year, desperately wanting to go back to the ages where all you worried about was not making a fool of yourself in front of someone you had a crush on, or not knowing the biggest high school gossip about who was seeing who behind whoever’s back.

Now, at your growing age, all you worry about is failing college and not being able to get a good enough job to provide a future for yourself.

You wish nobody knew it was your birthday, but having such a close group of groups who knew you better than you knew yourself, it wasn’t going to be easy, and you almost spun around and darted out of campus when you saw Chris twirling a gift bag in hand with helium balloons that spelt out ‘birthday girl!’ in big, bold letters tied to his wrist. 

“There she is!”

You wanted the ground to swallow you up.

“Happy birthday!” Chris yells loudly when you reach their circle, letting your backpack drop to the grass beside Tyler who looks up at you with a dopey smile. Chris shoves the gift bag into your hands when you finally sit down, huffing at the weight of the bag. “I bought you something.”

“I told him not to, I promise,” Nick tells you as he applies chapstick before he leans in close, “But as always, Chris doesn’t fucking listen.”

“And I never will,” Chris grins, untying the strip of balloons from around his wrist to tie them around your own, ignoring the dark glare you give him as he smiles at you cheekily. “Look inside. It’s all the essentials you need.”

“I swear to god, if you—”

“Shh,” He pressed his finger against your lips. “Less talking, more looking.”

You roll your eyes, swatting his finger away from your face before peering into the bag. A soft, genuine laugh leaves your lips when you first see two bottles of your favourite alcoholic beverage and a few chocolates, but you immediately cease all laughter and amusement when you see a pack of condoms and a Plan B box sandwiched between the pair. 

Tyler peeks over your shoulder to drop a pre-rolled joint and a few gummies into the bag for later, but makes a funny noise when he sees the condom pack. He dips his hand inside the bag to pull it out, throwing it back at Chris who fumbles to catch it.

“Hey—”

“She doesn’t use condoms.”

Chris gapes, slowly turning his head towards you with widened eyes. He leans forward, nose brushing against yours as he speaks, “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck me?”

Nick yells and covers his ears, threatening to punch his youngest sibling in the throat as Nate and Tyler snort.

“Positive,” You giggle and pat his cheek, causing him to whine and slump back into his own space in defeat. “I’m thankful for the gifts, but please… you know I hate celebrating my birthday. And were the balloons really necessary too? Did you have to make it more obvious?”

Chris frowns, tugging at the string. “But the balloons are pretty.”

“She doesn’t like balloons, kid.”

Your head whizzes around so quickly you’re positive you could hear it crack at the speed, a grin spreading across your cheeks when you see Matt standing behind you looking at your balloons in disgust. But your eyebrows raise in surprise when you see Sadie standing beside him.

You greet her with a wave and she reciprocates, wishing you a quiet happy birthday which you thank her for and motioning for them both to join you in your circle, but Sadie shakes her head with an apology, announcing that she has to be somewhere else.

You watch as she places her hand on Matt’s bicep, asking if they can meet up later but Matt shakes his head, telling her that he already has plans and her face deflates for a moment before nodding, bidding him and the rest of you a goodbye before leaving. 

Matt lets out a huff as he drops down to the grass, stretching out his legs and knocking his foot against yours, mouthing you a quick happy birthday and you smile in gratitude. 

“Sadie seems to be hanging out with you a lot recently,” Nate points out and Nick nods his head in agreement. “You like her?”

Matt shakes his head, “No. She was just asking me if I wanted to do something this weekend.”

“Are you?”

“No,” Matt mindlessly starts plucking the glass, avoiding everyone's eyes as they zone in on him. “I don’t have the time. Got some assignments to finish for my classes.”

Hearing him say that he hasn’t got the time sparks interest in you, and you begin to wonder if Matt would end up asking you for some well needed release. It excites you, especially when you realise you haven’t been under him or on top of him in a few days and you press your thighs together at the thought of possibly getting dicked down sooner rather than later. 

It’s a birthday gift, you say to yourself when you try to give an excuse to why you’re so needy to be fucked by Matt. It’s just a birthday gift… yet, you have Tyler right beside you, someone who’s easily available and someone who used to be frequent in giving you the best birthday sex of your life.

You could ask Tyler to come over tonight, but why wasn’t the question being asked? Why does it feel like you’re stopping yourself from asking something so simple and easy?

Perhaps you’re so used to sleeping around with Matt that it doesn’t even occur to you to ask someone else anymore. Tyler doesn’t seem bothered, maybe because he’s been getting his fix elsewhere too, so why does it bother you?

A quiet call of your name brings you out of your thoughts and you turn your head towards the source, gazing landing on Matt who is looking back at you with a kind smile. 

He shuffles further into the circle to get closer to you, voice dipping low. “Come home with me later? I have something for you.”

“What is it?” You instantly ask back, excitement evident in your tone. Even though you weren’t the biggest fan of celebrating your birthday and receiving gifts, there was no doubt in your mind that Matt was probably one of the best people to receive gifts from, knowing he usually goes above and beyond to give you the most memorable birthday. 

You smile when you remember the three-day spa voucher he gave you last year when he and his brothers had taken you away for the weekend, it was the most breathtaking cabin you had ever been to. The sunset above the lake was still photographed in your memory, so was the midnight drive he took you on when Chris and Nick were sleeping.

The sights were beautiful, and you were grateful to have seen it with your best friend.

“You’ll find out.” Matt tells you with a smile, refusing to give you a hint of any sort as he turns his attention to Nick to engage in a conversation. You pout, shoulders slumping in defeat and Chris knocks his arm against yours, voice teasing as he whispers in your ear;

“Looks like my gifts will come in handy after all—OW!”

“This is actually fucking ridiculous.” You giggle as you’re blindingly walking into Matt’s dorm, his hands covering your eyes to prevent you from seeing even though you’ve tried countless times to peek through the gaps between his fingers.

Matt’s chest rumbles against your back as he laughs, waiting for you to toe off your shoes at the entrance before leading you further into the room.

You have the layout completely mapped out in your head from the amount of times you’ve been at his place, already knowing that he’s leading you into the kitchen just by the cold marbling that you feel beneath your feet. 

You almost trip as Matt shoves you down onto a chair and whispers a countdown in your ears before he removes his hands from your face. Your vision is blurry for a moment and you try to adjust to your surroundings with a few blinks, jaw dropping in complete awe as the splotches begin to disperse and you see what’s presented in front of you.

“Are you kidding me?” You whisper softly in astonishment at the gifts that are laid out across the table. You spot a few of your favourite scented candles stacked on top of each other, a bottle of perfume that you were one hundred percent certain that was sitting in your wishlist on an online store you were browsing a few days prior, and a miniature bag with the logo of your favourite jewellery store. 

You feel extremely overwhelmed, the urge to cry becoming harder to keep at bay as your eyes water and string, throat tightening over how thoughtful Matt had been. 

You turn your head towards him with your bottom lip quivering and Matt snickers, pulling a party hat from god knows where and advancing closer to you.

“You asshole…” You insult jokingly, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe at your eyes, hoping that the tears wouldn’t dare fall as Matt secures the hat on top of your head. You point to it, “Isn’t this a little cheesy?”

Matt rolls his eyes, snapping the elastic band against your chin for extra measure and you hiss at the slight sting it causes, punching his arm in retaliation but he pays no mind, smiling to himself as he turns his back to you for a moment to open the refrigerator door, pulling out a white squared box.

He balances it on the palm of his hand with ease, using his foot to kick the door shut as he makes his way back to you. 

You’re grinning widely at the thought of what could be inside the box, even though you’ve already guessed it’s a cake. Your hands rub together excitingly as Matt places it on the counter and gently slides it over to you, the box still in his grasp as it stops in front of you, drumming his fingers on the cardboard. 

Sensing your eagerness, Matt lifts the lid off of the box and the excitement on your face drops almost instantly, expressionless as you peek inside to see the miniature spongebob themed cake staring back at you.

You raise your head to see Matt already grinning at you, tongue poking at his cheek as he opens up a drawer to retrieve two plastic forks, twiddling them between his fingers.

You deadpan, “Are you sure we’re not celebrating your birthday right now?”

“Be quiet, you like spongebob just as much as I do,” Matt scoffs as he hands over one of the plastic forks and you take it with a smile. You go to cut out a piece for yourself but freeze when Matt makes a weird noise, gazing up at him in alarm. “Wait. Hold on—my god—let me take a photo first.”

You roll your eyes but happily oblige as Matt fishes his phone out of his pocket and angles it towards you. You pose, pointing to the cake with a wide smile, almost blinded by the flash when Matt takes the picture and you immediately rub at your eyes, trying to get rid of the blotches while spitting a few creative curse words that make him giggle.

He quickly takes the opportunity of you being blinded to slide beside you, holding his phone high to take a selfie and you poke out your tongue, using your free hand to cup Matt’s cheeks while he rests his on top of your head. 

Before you have the chance to complain about how hungry you are, you gasp in shock when you feel the coldness of the cake’s frosting rubbed on your cheek and the shutter of the camera goes off when Matt takes another photo, capturing you mid chaos as you dig your fingers into the side of the cake to smush a piece against his own cheek, grinning evilly as the yellow frosting covers his skin. 

“Alright, alright. I deserved that,” Matt sighs with a lighthearted laugh, making sure his phone is tucked away and out of the icing zone. “Makes a good blackmail photo though, don’t you think?”

“If that goes anywhere, I will kill you.”

“You already know that’s going on my Instagram, sweetheart.” Matt teases you and you scoff jokingly, shaking your head as you reach for the napkins that are laying conveniently at the side, trying your best to wipe away the frosting before it drops and stains your clothing. 

Matt manages to clean himself up pretty easily and decides to help you out when he notices you struggling, plucking a spare napkin from the pile and he takes a hold of your jaw, facing your towards him as he gently wipes at your cheek, careful not to rub too hard at your skin. 

You’re suddenly awkward of the close proximity and you grow silent, watching as you cleans you up diligently. The concentrated look on his face is what causes your stomach to whirl and heart bloom with warmth, his eyebrows furrowed and gaze zoned in on the area he needs to clean, tongue licking over his bottom lip.

“Matt…” You call out his name quietly to grab his attention and he pauses, staring right at you. He seems to slowly take notice of how close you both are, taking in the limited space between you both and he goes to remove his hand away from your face but stops himself short with a noise, bringing his hand back to finish the job.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Matt whispers to you once he finally wipes away the frosting from your cheeks, smiling down at you with adoration swirling in his eyes and your breathing gets caught at the back of your throat for a moment at the sudden affectionate gaze, unsure of what to say or even what to do with him looking at you the way he is.

Your hands move up to take the birthday hat off of your head, dropping it to the side carelessly as your arms curl around his shoulders, pulling him into your embrace. Matt’s arms slide around your waist, holding you close to his chest as he hugs you back, burying his face in the crevice of your neck and exhaling deeply.

“I’m so thankful,” You admit, squeezing him tight as the emotions within you struggle to be contained. “For real, Matt. I’m really grateful too… thank you for making this birthday special again.”

“It’s not over yet, you know…” Your hear him mutter in your ear and you go to pull back, to question him on what more he could possibly give to top everything else he’s down for today but he’s already bending his knees, arms falling low to lock around your thighs and throwing you over his shoulder with a huff, smacking his hand roughly against your ass as he carries your giggly self to the bedroom. 

Friday nights will always be your favourite nights to let loose and party.

Dressing up in your prettiest outfit that makes you feel confident and sexy, decorating your body with the shiniest of jewellery you own and drinking the most intoxicated drink you could find while mingling with your friends.

Talking with your girls face to face after a week of classes had unfailingly lifted your mood, catching up with all the gossip you missed or only briefly discussed over the phone, finally adding your own two cents into situations which they eagerly agree with a nod of their heads, tapping their cups to yours before taking a sip. 

“Speaking of unusual relationships,” Sarah, one of your dearest friends, turns to look at you with a grin, “How's it going with you and Matt? Have things turned awkward yet?”

“Nope,” You shake your head, buzzing happily. “We’re fine. The whole ‘hooking up with your best friend’ culture isn’t as complicated as everyone makes it out to be. Everyone gets dramatic about it for no reason.”

Kendall lets out a heavy sigh, nursing her drink in her hand, “I don’t know how you do it. I can’t even imagine hooking up with Isaac. I mean, he’s attractive, but we’ve seen and know too much about each other to get physical on an intimate level… props to you.”

Anna shifts her gaze to you next, “Do you still fuck Tyler?”

“On occasion,” You admit. “But honestly, I’ve been so wrapped up in assignments—”

“And Matt.”

You give Sarah a smirk, “I haven’t really had the time to call up Tyler and ask him to fuck. He doesn’t mind anyways. He’s been busy smoking and selling weed for some extra cash.”

“What about Matt? Is he still fucking around?”

You pause at that, lips pursing in deep thought before you shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know. I haven’t asked recently if I’m honest.”

Kendall gestures over your shoulder, “Looks like you’re about to find out the answer.”

You crane your neck to follow the direction she’s pointing in, noticing Matt standing near a back wall with a drink in hand, deep in conversation with Sadie who’s smiling, locked on each word he’s speaking to her.

Feeling your eyes on him, Matt looks up to meet your gaze, raising his drink in greeting and you grin, lifting your own cup before he resumes back in conversation.

You take in his appearance with interest; a black fitted tank top paired with some loose fitted jeans and shoes you’re certain he definitely stole from Nick’s closet. The silver chain deer hangs from his neck and silver rings adorn his fingers. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he looks good.

“Take it easy with the lovey dovey eyes,” Sarah teases, nudging your shoulder to bring your attention back to her and you laugh, tipping your head back to finish the contents of your drink. “He does look good though, so I don’t blame you.”

“When was the last time you fucked Matt?” You direct your question towards Anna who shrugs her shoulders in response. 

“I don’t remember,” She smacks her lips together. “Definitely more than two months ago, that’s for sure… No disrespect to you but god, I miss his cock. How he walks around with that thing completely baffles me.”

Kendall’s eyes widened slightly, “Is Matt’s cock big?”

“Yes.”

You and Anna share a knowing smile and high give each other. You drone out the complaints Kendall makes about wanting to fuck someone with a big cock and how Isaac always sets her up with people who are both shitty in bed and lack personality, you being too focused on looking around the room to find a clear path to get more drinks and you dismiss yourself from your girls for a moment as you spot Nick and Tyler pouring vodka into each others cups.

You bound over to your favourite boys, throwing your arms around their shoulders and startling them with your presence, but Tyler hazily smiles you when he sees it’s you and presses a chaste kiss to your temple as Nick hugs you tight in greeting, offering to fill up your cup which you happily give him.

“Where have you been?” Nick asks you as Tyler takes your hand in his to twirl your around, whistling as he eyes your dress. “You look pretty.”

“Catching up with my girls because I spend way too much time with you guys,” You explain, but cheesily grin at the compliment you received on your outfit. Nick hands you your filled drink and you thank him, taking a quick sip as your eyes glance around the room, “Where’s the rest of the guys?”

“Chris is around here somewhere trying to get laid and Nate is talking to this girl he likes from his classes,” Nick informs you before he laughs. “Matt’s been talking with Sadie for the past hour—-sweet girl is trying to make her move.”

“And why aren’t you showing off your charms tonight?”

Nick’s face immediately drops, “Please. I’m done with boys. All they make me feel is absolute regret and disappointment.”

You smile in sympathy, “You’re looking at the wrong guys.”

“No,” Nick shakes his head. “They’re all the same. Everyone of them. Disgusting.”

You loop your arm around his, tugging him into your side, “What if I introduce you to this guy in my class? He’s tall… handsome… sweet…”

Nick eyes you, clearly interested in what you’re telling him and he holds his head high, “Maybe.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Chris!” You greet him happily as he appears beside Tyler, staring at you all with a confused look but grins when you throw yourself into his arms to hug him tightly, swaying you both back and forth. “I thought you were trying to get laid?”

“I was,” Chris sighs as he pulls away from the hug, but keeps an arm wrapped around your middle. “But she has a boyfriend and he’s, like, scary looking and I didn’t feel like getting nightmares for life.”

You frown, patting his shoulder. “What a shame. The dry spell continues for you.”

Chris leans into your touch, batting his eyelashes prettily at you with a smirk, “You can change that for me if you want.”

Nick fake gags behind you as you smile, “In your dreams.”

Chris sighs jokingly, dropping his head low. “Guess I’ll keep on dreaming then.”

“Dreaming about what?”

The sound of Matt’s voice has you spinning around, beaming happily as your eyes meet his but it falters slightly when you notice the fake smile he’s sporting, wanting to question him and ask him what’s wrong but you bite your tongue, not wanting to bring attention to the subject, knowing it’ll make Matt uncomfortable putting him on the spot. 

You reach out and touch his arm, giving him a comforting squeeze which makes him seem to relax, using your grip on him to tug your into his side and for Chris’ arm to slip from your waist.

“Chris is saying weird ass shit about her again,” Nick fills Matt in, wafting the smoke that Tyler blows in his face teasingly when he takes a hit of his joint. “How’s Sadie?”

“Fine,” Matt replies simply, licking at his lips as he turns to you. “Do you want to get out of here? Just me and you?”

Chris immediately takes offence to that, “What about us? What are you going to do without us?!”

Matt goes to answer but Nick immediately raises his hand, silencing him. “Don’t answer that. Just don’t.”

You’re in complete bliss with Matt holding himself above you, your back is arched, bare chest pressed to his as he nips and licks at your neck, his hips lazily grinding into yours, cock hitting deeper than he’s ever been.

The pace is slow, something that you’re not used to when it comes to Matt, but you don’t find the voice within you to complain, enjoying it a lot more than you’d admit with your fingers tangled in his hair, cries spilling from your lips with your legs hooked over his waist.

He’s grunting in the crevice of your neck with each deep thrust, one hand caressing the side of your face while the other finds a place beside your head, holding up his weight.

You’re whining from the loss of contact when he moves his head away, missing the feeling of his teeth against your skin, the slight stubble scratching your face and you look up at him pleadingly, but he’s frozen as he stares down at you, despite his hips thrusting automatically into you. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so pretty…” You barely hear him mumble and your heart pounds against your ribcage at the complement, body feeling more heated and warm.

“Matt—”

He cuts off your words by planting his lips on yours with the most sweetest and softest kiss he’s ever given you, and you melt into the touch, fingers untangling from his hair to cup his cheeks in your palms, gasping through the kiss as Matt's cock cock slowly pulls out of your pussy before pushing back in, sending a shrill up your spine. 

The band in your tummy tightens with each slow but powerful thrust he gives you, thighs shaking around his frame, unable to keep up with his kisses as your mouth falls open with short gasps and whines, white specks flickering in your vision as your feel yourself inching closer and closer over the edge.

“Cum,” Matt whispers, breath fanning over your face as he pants, “Do it. Cum on my cock.”

You wail as the band snaps, orgasm crashing down on you violently. Your body convulses, pussy squeezing around his cock, keeping him buried deep which has him moaning, his own hips stuttering as he cums. You feel him pulse inside you, filling you up with everything he gives.

Matt’s head slumps down on your shoulder as you try to steady your breathing, wincing as you feel him slowly move his hips back to pull his cock out of your sensitive cunt, your hand falling from his face to drop down at your pussy, gathering his cum that pools out onto your fingers.

“I’m sorry,” Matt apologises against your skin, “I’m sorry, I—shit. I should’ve asked if I could—fuck. I got too overwhelmed. I’m sorry.”

“It’s kind of cute that you’re apologising,” You admit, gently pushing him off of your body to sit upright. “But you don’t need to apologise… this isn’t the first time you came inside me, Matt.”

“I know,” Matt runs his fingers through his sweaty hair. “I usually ask...”

“Matt. It’s fine,” You reassured him, placing your palm on his bicep. “I’ll forgive you a thousand times more if you help clean me up though.”

Matt smiles and nods his head as he slips off the bed, disappearing out of the room for a moment and returning with a wet towel. He sits between your parted legs, gently cleaning up the mess, whispering apologies and apologies every time you wince when he presses down on sensitive areas, thighs closing around his hand which he carefully pries open to resume his job. 

You sit in silence, watching him, frowning at the troubled look you see on his face, not used to seeing Matt being so closed off with his feelings and emotions, especially towards you. He hasn’t been open and honest with you in the past few weeks, he hasn’t come to you and asked for your reassurance or help. 

It makes you feel a little bit defeated. 

Something is different, and you struggle to pinpoint what it is.

The questions lay on the tip of your tongue, desperate to be brought to light and asked, and even more desperate to get the answers you’ve been craving. Your relationship with Matt has changed since the proposition you’ve made about sleeping together, but he’s still your best friend.

“What’s going on?” You finally ask and Matt freezes, fingers clutching the wet towel in his grasp tightly. “And please don’t lie to me… I can tell when you’re being truthful or not—”

“What am I to you?” Matt suddenly asks and you’re a little thrown off at your question being answered with his own question. He takes his hand away completely as you blink at him, feeling confused. “Even with all this going on… what am I to you?”

“You’re my best friend?”

Matt seems to frown deeply at that, “So nothing has changed? At all? Even with us sleeping together? I’m still your best friend?”

“Wh—of course!” You’re baffled, assuming that with the way Matt is speaking about your situationship, that he is worried that you have gained some negative feelings towards him. It hurts you, and you’re eager to reassure him, to let him know that everything is okay. “Matt, you’ll always be my best friend. We promised nothing would change, right? I’m keeping that promise.”

Matt closes his eyes as his shoulders sink in defeat, “I…” He drops his head with a sigh. “I can’t do this anymore.”

You bring your knees up to your chest, “Do what?”

“This,” He gestures between the two of you. “I just… I can’t. Not anymore. I can’t continue sleeping with you.”

“Oh.” You swallow thickly, feeling something heavy weighing in your throat. “Why?”

“Things have changed,” His voice is quieter now and it makes your heart shatter at the tone. Does he hate you? “I can’t continue whatever this is and be your best friend at the same time, it has to stop. It—” Matt sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” You mutter as your chin rests on your knees, hugging your legs closer to your chest to cover your modesty. You refuse to even look at him now, finding interest in the sheets below you as your throat tightens up more, feeling sick at the thought of him hating you so much that he can’t even continue sleeping with you. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did to make you hate me, but I—”

“Wait what?”

“—I’m just so sorry. Especially if I came across too forward and for putting you in such a position, I know you were so hesitant about this in the direct place.” You’re babbling now, unable to take control of yourself due to the overwhelming feeling that washed over you. “I’m so fucking sorry, Matt.”

“Wait… I don’t—”

“Can we not tell the others right now?” You raise your head to meet his eyes this time. He’s looking straight at you, confusion and disbelief swimming in his irises but you ignore it, chewing the inner skin of your cheek. “Mostly Nick. I don’t really want to hear him laugh in our faces and give us the whole ‘I told you so’ speech he threatened us with at the start.”

Matt calls out your name and extends his hand to touch you, but you’re already climbing off of the bed, searching around for your underwear and dress that was thrown across the room earlier.

You’re too embarrassed to continue on with the conversation, to ask him what exactly you did to make him grow to hate you so suddenly. Truthfully, you didn’t really want to dwell on it too much, the pain of losing someone like Matt already making your heart ache. 

You just wanted to go home—to be in the comfort of your own bed and curse yourself out, and probably cry to the point you might just forget everything that just happened. You are feeling a little teary, but you wouldn’t dare cry in front of Matt right now. 

“I’ll, uh, see you around or something,” You sniffle, shoving the heels onto your feet and casting one final look his way. “I’m sorry.”

It’s been almost two weeks since your last encounter with Matt.

You shouldn’t be avoiding him like you are. It’s childish, you know that. But you can’t force yourself to face someone who used to be your best friend and now seemingly hates your guts.

Maybe you should’ve waited a few more minutes, to give him enough time to explain the entire situation and how he was feeling but you were selfish, you didn’t want to hear him explain in full detail what you had done to make him change his feelings towards you so negatively. 

You miss him. Of course you miss him. For years he’s been your best friend—your other half, more like. There was no you without Matt and vice versa. You weren’t exactly sure on how you could continue moving on without Matt by your side, as dramatic as it sounds… but you’ve always been a little dramatic. 

His brothers, Nate and Tyler have been blowing up your phone—-courtesy of you ignoring them too, not wanting to hear Nick rub it in your face on how the ‘friends with benefits bullshit’ you had with Matt actually did go to shit. You also didn’t want to hear the others continuously ask questions about what happened and what had changed. 

Even your roommate, someone who keeps herself out of your business and hardly ever bothers you, had cornered you one morning at breakfast, asking why you looked so glum and why the ‘shirtless and tattooed Boston fuckboy’ wasn’t joining you both anymore.

You’re not the type to let anyone know your worries, so you’re surprised when you find yourself explaining to your roommate about what happened in full detail.

She gave you an unimpressed look, calling you a little stupid for not staying behind and listening despite you letting it be known that you couldn’t bear to listen to why his feelings turned negative towards you. Your face twisted and turned, offended by her harsh words but you allowed yourself to let her talk and not interrupt even though you desperately wanted to.

“You jumped to your own conclusion,” She told you when she was collecting the dishes. “You know, for two close best friends who talk to each other every second of the day, you have some major miscommunication issues.”

So, that’s what leads you to now; you sitting alone in the living room with your phone in hand, staring down at yours and Matt’s chat with your thumb between your teeth, biting down on the skin anxiously as you try to figure out how to start a conversation, to let him know you’re ready to listen.

from you: i think we should talk….

from matt: good because im almost at your house anyway. I had to go get something.

from you: ???? u coming over

from matt: yes from matt: i was going to make you listen to me from matt: its kinda important kid. 

You snort at his message, sending a quick thumbs up emoji before throwing your phone to the side, awaiting his arrival. Your leg nervously shakes in the corner of your vision and your eyebrows knit together, placing your hand down on your knee and squeezing tight.

As if that will stop you from being nervous. 

You’re about to hear the reasoning behind why Matt's feelings had changed for you so negatively, nothing can prepare you for it. 

Just bite the bullet. Take it like a champ.

The rapid knocking on the door rips you out of your thoughts and your head slowly turns with a confused look sketched upon your features. Was that Matt? Matt never knocks—he freely walks in like it’s his own place usually, always making himself at home.

You push yourself up from the couch and make your way towards the front door, taking a peek through the peephole to see Matt’s form, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip with his hands behind his back, swaying back and forth nervously. You grow even more confused and concerned, pulling open your door to face him fully.

“Why did you knock—”

“Hate you?!” Matt suddenly cuts you off with a shout, startling you with the loudness of his tone. His eyes are wide as he stares at you, full of disbelief. “Hate you, I—fuck—how could I hate you?! I’d never hate you… god, you’re so frustrating sometimes.”

Your lips quirk upwards, “Nice to see you too?”

“I don’t hate you. At all. When I told you that things have changed, I didn’t mean anything bad by it… I pretty much meant the opposite…” Matt’s words trail off and before you can even get the chance to ask him to explain exactly what he means, air gets caught at the back of your throat and you struggle to speak as he pulls his hands from behind his back; a bag of candy in one and a handful of ripped up flowers in the other. Your heart thumps rapidly. “I’m going to tell you something and I just… I need you to listen to me.”

You barely whisper, “Okay.”

“Being in this friends with benefits relationship with you was not as easy as I thought it would be,” Matt tells you, his honesty making you pull your attention away from the gifts in his hands to meet his gaze. “We promised each other that we’re not going to involve any titles to make it complicated for us… yet here I am, standing in front of you with the same candy and flowers in my hand from when we first met, about to confess my fucking feelings to you, I’m so—”

“You’re rambling.” You cut him off, a smile creeping onto your lips.

“Yeah, of course I am,” Matt laughs at himself, shaking his head as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck before he straightens out, keeping his eyes on yours. “I fell for you. Hard. I think I sort of realised it on your birthday but I didn’t want to say anything just in case whatever I was feeling wasn’t what I thought it was… but when we were at that party and I saw you from across the room, talking with your friends, I realised how much I actually do fucking like you and that it wasn’t just my dick talking.”

You snort as you repeat, “Dick talking.”

“Shut up,” Matt smiles at you, his own laugh fleeting past his lips before he sighs, “I like you. I’m falling in love with you, and I get it if you want to reject me because of how fucking weird this whole thing turned out… but I would actually like to continue being with you, not just as a best friend but as your boyfriend.”

You’re too busy repeating his confession in your head to notice that Matt is waiting for an answer, bottom lips tucked between his teeth as he bites down nervously, visibly shaking out of excitement or fear due to the fact he just confessed his entire feelings—you weren’t sure which one was right.

The silence from you kills Matt and his face drops when you step forward to quietly take the flowers and candies out of his hands, taking a step back inside your house. His shoulders slump in defeat, taking your nonverbal response as a rejection to his proposal of him being your boyfriend.

He goes to turn around, to get the fuck off your doorstep and drive home, hoping that the intense embarrassment he feels coursing through his veins is enough to make him disappear.

But he freezes mid escape when he hears the rustling of you ripping open the pack of candies, spinning around to see you looking at him with the prettiest smile.

He watches, heart thumping wildly, stomach fluttering with nervousness and excitement as you extend your arm out, angling the bag in his direction and a grin spreads across his face, unable to control the happiness that bursts from within.

You’re giving him a treat, you’ve giving him a relationship.

©sturnioz

#©sturnioz #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets smut

[tqmies]

ZB1 + Jealous Sex

ZB1 after one of you is jealous!

note: legal members only (not including gunwook or yujin!) & as always, minors dni!

JIWOONG's eyebrows just furrow because, really? Did you seriously think any of these run-of-the-mill men at this party could make him feel insecure? They don't but they do manage to piss him off. Why were you so close to them? You were just being friendly? You're a liar.

You babble incoherently as he held the vibrator to your abused cunt, having climaxed more times than you could count before having it ripped away by his hands. All he did was crudely laughs at your expense. "What's wrong baby? Earlier you had no problems acting like a slut. I'm just treating you like one."

You knew ZHANG HAO was cute, everyone knew it. Doesn't mean you appreciate everyone flirting with him though.. And his seemingly oblivious act to it all has you seeing red. God, you had to teach him a lesson.

"Babe, s-slow down." He lets out, cock already spent, your eagerness to get him to cum again has him tearing up. His face red as he bites his bottom lip, letting out low whimpers. You continue bouncing on him though, fingers digging into his shoulders as you use them as an anchor. You scoff, trying not to let any moans slip out. "Think any of those girls out there could have you like this baby?"

HANBIN knows that it's not your fault, but it doesn't stop him from getting a little jealous! His friends had crashed your beach date, catching your body in its full glory in the cute bikini you donned. He swears one of them even popped a boner from it!

"You're mine," He growled, your leg thrown over his shoulder. He hadn't even managed to slip your bikini off, only pushing it to the side enough to enter his fat tip into you. Could you blame him? You just looked so good in it! "Only I get to touch you like this, right?"

MATTHEW had been begging you to join him at the gym for months and you finally gave in. Things were fine until you managed to catch a group of girls giggling at your boyfriend in a compression shirt. Leading to an argument that he found himself determined to make up for.

His tongue licked the stripe up your clit, placing light kisses on your thighs to tease you afterwards, before tongue fucking you. "Don't act silly my love, you know you're the only one I want. Those girl's can look all they want, but you're the one that get's me this way."

TAERAE felt the familiar green monster rear its ugly head into his life the minute he spotted you being asked out at the coffee shop he was here to meet you at. You immediately declined the other, but he still couldn't help but feel a little insecure. It was up to you to show him he had no reason to worry.

"Hmm," You mumble, jerking him off as you prepare to deepthroat. He whines, holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you press kisses to the flushed tip. "Prettiest cock in the world attached to my pretty boy. No where else I'd rather be then here taking your load down my throat." He can't even manage to stutter a response before you're gagging on his shaft.

You can't blame anyone who hits on RICKY, people flock to him like bee's to honey. But two can play at that game, and you played it quite well, but Ricky doesn't like sharing.

"Gonna fill you with so much cum that it leaks out," He has you folded into a mating press, your walls sucking him in as you jolt from how rough he was fucking you. He was determined to drill into you until your pussy was molded for only him. "Lets see you talk to the guys with it dripping down your legs."

He doesn't get jealous, or at least that's what GYUVIN tells himself. He likes that you get along with his friends! No he doesn't mind one of his friends offering you a jacket. Or saving you a seat by them! It's all perfectly fine.

"Please, please don't leave me. I'd cry every day and- haah - I promise, none of them can treat you like I can." He begs, too busy caught up in his own ministrations that he can't even notice you're fucked too dumb to properly respond. Your back arched as his balls hit your ass with every stroke as you try to keep yourself propped up. "I'm promise I'm good enough, I'll be the best boyfriend- shit - you could ever ask for."

#zb1 smut #zb1 #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone smut #zb1 x reader #zb1 x yn #ricky smut #taerae smut #matthew smut #jiwoong smut #hanbin smut #gyuvin smut #zhang hao smut

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Vice surrenders

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in LA with Adam Conover at Vroman's, then on MONDAY in Seattle with Neal Stephenson, then Portland, Phoenix and more!

Vice died the way it lived: being suckered in by smarter predators, even as it trained its own predatory instincts on those more credulous than its own supremely gullible leadership. RIP, we hardly knew ye.

For those of you who don't know, Vice was a Canadian media success story. It was founded by a motley clique of hipsters, one of whom – founder of the Proud Boys – has since grown to be one of the world's great fascism influencers. Another perfected the art of getting young people to work "for exposure" even as he built a massive, highly lucrative media empire on their free labor:

https://www.canadaland.com/podcast/vice-oral-history/

Eventually, Vice transitioned to a string of progressively worsening corporate owners, each more dishonest, predatory – and gullible – than the last. The company was one of the most enthusiastic marks for Facebook's infamous "pivot to video" – in which Mark Zuckerberg destroyed half the media industry by tricking them into thinking that the public was clamoring for video content, based on fraudulent viewing numbers:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pivot_to_video

Vice went all-in on video, spending hundreds of millions to finance Zuckerberg's doomed attempt to conquer Youtube. But unlike other the rubes who got zucked, Vice found greater fools to scam, convincing giant, slow-moving meidia companies that the best way to get in on the Next Big Thing was to shower them with vast sums of string-free money:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viceland_(Canadian_TV_channel)

And yet, at every turn, through a succession of increasingly incompetent owners who bought the stumbling, declining Vice at fire-sale prices and then proceeded to hack away at the wages and tools its journalists depended on while paying executives salaries so high that they beggared the imagination, Vice's reporters continued to turn out stellar material.

This went on literally until the last moment. The memorial posted by 404 Media rounds up a selection of major stories Vice's beleaguered, precarious writers produced even as Vice's vulture capitalist leadership were pulling the rug out from under them:

https://www.404media.co/behind-the-blog-vices-legacy-and-the-idea-that-the-internet-is-forever/

True to form, those private equity scumbags locked all those workers out of the company's CMS without notice – and then forgot to lock down the podcasting back-end. That allowed a group of Vice veterans – Matthew Gault, Emily Lipstein, Anna Merlan, Tim Marchman and Mack Lamoureux – to gather for a totally unauthorized, tell-all session that they pushed out on an official Vice channel:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKT4OtDEJRA

It's a hell of a listen. Not only do these Vice veterans have lots of fascinating history to recount, but they also describe the conditions under which those blockbuster stories of Vice's final days were produced. As the "visionary leaders" of the company paid themselves millions, they halted payments to key suppliers, from Lexisnexis to the interview transcription service the writers depended on. Writers paid out of pocket to search PACER court records.

Not only did Vice's reporters do incredible work under terrible and worsening circumstances, but the Vice writers who got out ahead of the total collapse are also doing incredible work. 404 Media is a writer-owned investigative news publisher founded by four Vice escapees – Samantha Cole, Jason Koebler, Emanuel Maiberg and Joseph Cox, which is both producing incredible work and sustaining the writers who founded it:

https://www.404media.co/

All of which leads to an inescapable conclusion: whatever problems Vice had, they didn't include "writers don't do productive work" and also didn't include "that work isn't economically viable*. Whatever problems Vice had, they weren't problems with Vice's workers – it was a problem with Vice's bosses.

Which makes Vice's final, ignominious punishment at the hands of those bosses even more brutal, stupid and inexcusable. According to the leaked memos emanating from the company's investors and their millionaire C-suite toadies, the business's new strategy is abandoning their website in order to publish on social media.

This is…I mean, this,..

This is…

Wow.

I mean, wow.

The thing is, the social media business model is a giant rug-pull. They're not even bothering to hide their playbook anymore. For social media, the game is to encourage media companies to become reliant on third parties to reach their audiences. Once that reliance is established, the companies turn down – or even halt – the ability of those media companies to reach their audience altogether. Then, they charge the media companies to reach their audiences:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/06/save-news-we-need-end-end-web

Now, this wasn't always quite so obvious. Back when Vice was falling for Facebook's "pivot to video," it wasn't completely obvious that the long con was to take your audience hostage and ransom them back to you. But deliberately organizing your business to be reliant on social media barons today? It's like trusting your money to Sam Bankman-Fried…in 2024.

If there was ever a moment when the obvious, catastrophic, imminent risk of trusting Big Tech intermediaries to sit between you and your customers or audience, it was now. This is not the moment to be "social first." This is the moment for POSSE (Post Own Site, Share Everywhere), a strategy that sees social media as a strategy for bringing readers to channels that you control:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/19/now-we-are-two/#two-much-posse

Predicting that a social media platform will rug the media companies that depend on it today doesn't take a Sun Tzu – as cunning strategies go, the hamfisted tactics of FB, Twitter and Tiktok make gambits like "Lucy and the football" look like von Clausewitz.

The most bonkers part of this strategy is that it's coming from private equity bosses, who laud themselves as the great strategists of the 21st century, whose claim on so much of our global capital and resources is derived from their brilliant insight, which allows them to buy "distressed assets" like Vice, "restructure" them to find "efficiencies" and sell them on.

The reality is that PE goons – like other financiers – are basically herding animals. Everyone's hit on the tactic of buying up beloved media companies – from the 150-year-old Popular Science to modern publications like CNet – and then filling them with spammy garbage in the hopes that Google will fail to notice and continue to award them pride-of-place on search results pages:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

The fact that these billionaire brain-geniuses can't figure out how to "turn around" a site whose workers a) produce brilliant, popular, successful work; and b) depart to found successful firms that commercialize that work tells you everything about their ability to spot "a good business opportunity."

PE – like other mafiosi – only have one business-plan, the "bust out," where you invade a business that produces useful things, force them to pay your chosen suppliers sky-high fees for things they don't need, extract massive fees for your "management" and then walk away from the collapse:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/02/plunderers/#farben

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/24/anti-posse/#when-you-absolutely-positively-dont-give-a-solitary-single-fuck

#pluralistic #vice #motherboard #posse #apps #enshittification #media #chumboxes #botshit #bust outs #news bailouts

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

thursday, sung hanbin— poetry ii

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.

⋆˙⟡ wc: 3.5k (it's a doozy but it's worth it i literally am so happy with this one)

⋆˙⟡ reader: femme afab (listed first, she/her are used) // gender neutral (alternate version listed second, no pronouns used at all to describe reader— scroll down)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ thursday summary: thursday. good news: the week is almost over. bad news: you're stuck in poetry class with sung hanbin as your desk partner. it's weird. sometimes you play off each other so well, you're nearly blindsided by his sudden flipping of the switch. if only you could steal a glimpse at his journal.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. very toxic softboi/popular soccer star hanbinnie. guys THE LORE. you very well may not survive til the end of the week but we're already on this journey together so let's see it through!!! smut in gn and fem versions are slightly different due to logistics/circumstance. also there's two parts i wrote in here that made me laugh way too hard okay bye. xx

⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★☆(4.5)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest groping/brief nipple play (reader receiving; reader is wearing a bra and hanbin refers to you as having 'tits'), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), fingering (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; about looseness of pussy after this week/disappointing chest but not the size of it he's just being a dick am i making sense), slut and whore used to describe reader, one slap across the face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

scribble. scribble. scribble. 

the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting. 

“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral. 

“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.”

hanbin’s brow raises slightly at your answer as if it surprises him. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “why?”

you follow hanbin’s line of sight to the open page of your poetry journal. you’ve absentmindedly ripped a significant hole through several pages with your vortex of nervous scribbling.

you breathe an awkward laugh, closing your journal and putting your pencil down flat on your desk.

“you had a rough week,” hanbin says, grabbing his journal from his bag and placing it on his desk. you bite your cheeks to keep from grinning at the sight of your target. “or so i’ve heard.”

“i’m sure you have,” you mumble, glancing at the tile floor. “i’m sure everybody has.”

“they haven’t,” he replies definitively and you know he’s telling the truth. “i promise they haven’t.”

hanbin was a tricky one. the star of the soccer team and undoubtedly the most popular boy at your university, it comes as no surprise that he was also the makeshift ring leader of his stupid group of friends. keeping that spotlight also meant keeping up appearances. while your other bullies made their distaste for you known whenever possible, hanbin had a different preferred method of torture.

he liked to play nice. compliment your poems. share a laugh... reel you in.

until you were so close, you couldn’t escape. that’s when he’d flip the script on you. 

like when he sent your poem about the boy you liked to the entire university’s mailing list last year. you’d insisted you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him. you recoiled with embarrassment at the thought of junseo, your senior lab partner, finding out. but he pushed. made you think you could trust him.

the next day, it was pinned to every bulletin board across campus next to a picture of you that hanbin had taken on your class trip to the national library. like some sort of sick calling card.

junseo sunbae-nim never muttered more than a word to you ever again.

so that’s how all this started. hanbin recruiting his three (and then four) asshole friends in a sudden and violent quest to become the bane of your existence. 

sometimes you still can’t help but wonder if you’d done something to upset him. but you shake off that thought each time. you won’t let him get in your head again so easily.

you’ve about mustered the courage to give hanbin some snarky response when your professor’s chalk hatchings across the blackboard send a hush over the classroom.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor choi greets happily, underlining today’s date on the board. “let’s jump right in today and start with our weekly journals. please share with your desk partner the poem that this week so far inspired you to write.”

your eyes fix on hanbin’s journal again, anticipation stirring as you think about the clues that could be hidden in his poem this week. could the answers you’re looking for really be inside that black, leather book?

“you should go fi—,” you start to suggest a bit too quietly before hanbin unknowingly cuts you off.

“do you wanna go first?” he asks brightly, smile lines illuminating his soft features. you know you shouldn’t indulge him, but you can never stop the corners of your lips from involuntarily turning up in response. no matter how much you hated him, his fairytale prince looks were undeniable.

“oh, uh,” you stammer, grabbing your journal and flipping it open to your entry from this week. you look at the poem you wrote, eyes scanning over the emotional stanzas as you bite your lip uneasily. “i dunno. i kind of got a bit too... personal this week.”

“oh, you know i don’t mind,” he replies calmly. “that’s what poetry is, right?”

“i’m well aware you don’t mind me spilling personal details to you,” you reply with a glare. “but i mind.”

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor choi’s voice suddenly rings over your shoulder. “let’s get reading, okay? time is limited.”

you swallow hard, looking down at your journal shamefully. “yes, professor-nim.”

“so what’s it called?” hanbin asks as professor choi makes her way back up to her desk, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. “your poem?”

“the bird,” you answer softly. “it’s called the bird.”

he nods pensively before gesturing for you to start. you look back down at the page, fingers shaking as you try to hold your journal steady. clearing your throat, you recite:

“from her perch at the window, she will never be much. the vultures jeered at her as they circled above. then one flew down— with taloned-hand, he did touch. and a meek little finch turned into a dove. if a dove she can be, she will be it as such. til another vulture fell to his knees with a glove. parted her feathers and took her in his clutch. and from the fair bird, made a raven thereof. she needs to change back, so she tries to stay hush. but a third brash vulture throws her off with a shove. the reluctant truth is she’s filling with lust... and she’s growing quite scared of the bird she’ll become.”

you blink back tears as you close your journal and place it on your desk in front of you. maybe it’s your lack of sleep or the mentally and physically jarring week you’ve had, but reading your poem aloud had left you feeling quite vulnerable.

“that was beautiful, (y/n),” hanbin says suddenly, prying you from your regret. you turn to him, eyes wide as he nods thoughtfully. “i really appreciated the metaphor of the bird. the vultures are considered bad birds, but somehow they changed the subject from an unassuming bird into the more beautiful bird she seemed to want to be... but never thought she could.”

you stare at him as he glances up at the ceiling, those handsome smile lines crinkling his cheeks again.

“funny how things we could perceive as wrong or immoral can actually have a positive effect on us,” he muses with a chuckle. “but it’s only natural for the bird to question that change. she’s done more of that ‘bad’ thing and now she’s afraid it’s turned her into a raven. a bird that frightens her. or maybe a bird she can’t recognize anymore when she looks in the mirror.”

“it did,” you assert quietly. “it did change her.”

“but it sounds like she likes that change. at least part of her,” hanbin rebuts, meeting your gaze. “perhaps if she embraces that and sheds her own guilt— or molts, if you will— she’ll realize the raven is another distortion of her own making, just like the finch was. she’ll realize she is the dove and she always has been.”

your lips part as you gape at hanbin in awe. it was hard not to let your guard down with him when he always dissected your poems so intuitively like this. memories of intense public humiliation are the only thing that can keep you grounded.

“or,” he adds, a small smirk upturning the corner of his lips. “i guess she could also realize that ravens and vultures aren’t the bad birds she thinks they are. maybe she finds that, after all this worrying, she was meant to be a vulture, too.”

“under a minute left,” professor choi calls out from the front of the classroom.

shit. hanbin had talked so much about your poem that he barely had any time left to share his— the poem you desperately needed to be shared in the first place.

hanbin’s still rambling on about vultures, but you’re not paying any attention as a wave of panic rushes over you. 

“you should share yours still,” you prompt a little too eagerly, cutting him off mid-sentence. trying your best to dial it back, you add, “i’m sure it’s very interesting, what with the big game on saturday and all.”

hanbin smiles, holding your gaze for a moment too long. it’s suspicious, but his eyes give nothing away.

“if it’s okay with you, i’d rather not share this week,” he says, throwing his journal back in his bag. “i got a little too... how did you put it? personal.”

you blink at him. “but—. but that’s what i said and you—.”

hanbin mutters something under his breath that you swear sounds like, “not like you’d listen to me anyway.”

but you must’ve misheard him.

your heart sinks, your plan crumbling to ashes before your eyes as professor choi launches into a lecture about wilfred owen’s 20th century use of assonance. hanbin had to have written something about what his friends had been up to. that’s why he used up so much time focusing on your poem. 

your pencil moves across your paper, absentmindedly taking notes until you reach the only possible conclusion: you can’t give up. you’ll just have to amend the plan.

after class, you hurriedly gather your things and run out the door, pulling your phone out and typing vigorously as you make your way to the bathroom.

WHEN DOES THE BOYS’ SOCCER PRACTICE GO UNTIL TONIGHT!? mina: ??? NO QUESTIONS. JUST ANSWERS. mina: jiwoong oppa is picking me up at 7. so i assume about 6:30. THANK U BYE and... please be careful around him. mina: yeah, yeah, yeah i’ll use protection ily

totally not what you meant. and you’d hate to break it to her, but after his little stunt on monday, you’re not sure how fond her jiwoong oppa would be of that request.

6:30. practice would start soon, giving you plenty of time to slip into the boys’ locker room, read hanbin’s journal, and slip out undetected. 

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror.

a raven’s beady eyes stare back.

~

you kill some time in the library, waiting until practice is well underway before making your way across campus to the gymnasium. your heart is already pounding in your ears just thinking about the little heist you’re about to pull.

but your legs keep propelling you forward.

pulling open the building door, you step inside cautiously. the women’s badminton team is stretching in the atrium of the building, but there’s no sign of anyone else. you head right down the hallway, walking past the cardio fitness center and the weight-lifting gym until you’re in front of the boys’ locker room door.

you put an ear to it, hearing nothing but the whirring of a fan on the other side.

fuck it.

you pull open the door and step inside, white and grey tiled walls and rows of blue lockers surrounding you. your heart races as you look back at the door, wondering if it’s not too late to abandon your mission.

you shake your head. no. you need to find that journal.

with a steadying breath, you begin to walk through the first row of lockers. when you don’t spot hanbin’s bag, you proceed to the second row. and then the next. and then the next until you finally spot it.

tucked under the wooden bench running down the middle of the aisle is a familiar brown, leather messenger bag. you run to it, picking it up from the floor and setting it down on the bench. you unclasp the latch on the front of the bag and lift the flap, opening it up and reaching inside it.

your hand hits something... fluffy. you grab the fuzzy item and pull it out, squealing when you see that it’s a tiny, cream-colored hamster plush. it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole goddamn life. 

and you are disappointed to find yourself thinking it bears a striking resemblance to its owner.

you stuff the little hamster back into the bag. as cute as he is, it’s not what you came here for. you gasp when you feel the cold leather-bound journal in your hand, pulling it out hurriedly and examining the cover.

you open the journal, flipping through the pages rashly until you locate an entry with today’s date at the top. it reads:

“if one is a vulture, it’s assumed they’re no good— despite all the research that they’re helpful to earth. does the finch know that if that vulture could, he’d hunt for a mirror and show her her worth? if that finch is a dove, there’d be something that would still keep her away from achieving true mirth. it’s the vultures, she’d cry before she understood: the vulture has always been a sign of rebirth. a dove, raven, vulture, or finch from the woods, the vultures will find her and double their search. but for someone who claims they feel misunderstood, it’s repulsive the lengths she would go to unearth... something that does not belong to that bird. seems the dove was a raven afterall.”

“pretty good, huh?” the sudden voice behind you makes you jump. “wrote it in, like, ten minutes after class. what can i say? i was inspired.”

you don’t turn around. your face is already on fire from how mortified you are. of course, you’d considered the possibility of being caught. but you hadn’t really realized the weight of that consequence until this moment.

“actually, i think it might be even better than the original,” he continues, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors as he draws nearer. “i mean, you really should’ve thought to flesh out those vulture characters a bit. and you didn’t even consider looking up the well-known symbolism behind them.”

a hot breath fans across the back of your neck, causing you to shiver as a hand wraps around the leather-bound journal and pries it from yours.

“i have to admit, i didn’t really think you had it in you,” he says with a chuckle, fingers suddenly hooking into your waistband and turning you around to face him. he’s in his red and white soccer uniform, skin glistening from the practice meet he should be at right now. “but just in case, i wanted to be prepared. write you something worth reading.”

“h-how did you know?” you stutter quietly. “that i—”

“well, you weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?” hanbin smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘you should read your poem, hanbin. i’m sure it’s exciting with the big game coming up’. like you give a fuck about my poetry.”

that last sentence reminds you of what you thought you’d heard him mumble in class today: not like you’d listen to me anyway.

what was that about?

“aw, don’t get sad now that your plan didn’t go your way,” hanbin coos, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “i thought it was kind of cute. i can forgive you for stealing, right? you just wanted my attention so badly that you had to play a bit dirty.”

you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s not like that! i swear i wasn’t trying to get your attention, i just—”

“well then, jesus fucking christ, what do i have to do to—,” hanbin snaps before promptly cutting himself off. there’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before: desperation. 

a large hand wraps around your throat in an instant, shoving you up against a blue locker. the motion knocks the wind out of you and you find yourself gasping for air. your hand flies to remove his from around your neck, but he catches it in his free one and brings it gently back down to your side. 

“i told you in class that if you needed help calling off the vultures, you should ask me while you still can,” hanbin rasps, rubbing his thumb up the left side of your throat. “but you weren’t listening, dove. the gulper got first bite. the rippers tore you apart...”

you breathe shallowly, glancing from side to side for some route of escape.

“but now the king has landed,” he says, tongue flitting across his teeth. “and he’s fucking starving.”

you blink at him, lips parted in stupid shock. “i—... i honestly had no idea you knew so much about vultures.”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU TOOK FROM THAT ARE YOU KID—,” he yells, finger pads digging in tighter to the skin of your neck. his gaze falls to your lips, supple and pretty even in fear. he trails down to your shirt, a button-up front that seems to entice him. “take it off.”

“b-but—.”

“take it the fuck off, (y/n). you should know by now how this goes,” hanbin snarls, grabbing your hand and bringing it to the trail of buttons. you start to fiddle with them, but you have some trouble under the pressure of his gaze. “can’t even undo a button? hm? too fucking stupid, dove?”

you find yourself nodding against all odds.

“need binnie to do it for you?” he coos, smile lines illuminating his face again.

you just nod. it seems to be what you do best.

hanbin unfastens the buttons one-handed and with ease. once your shirt is open, he undoes the center clasp of your bra and exposes your chest. then, he sighs with dramatic disappointment. “seriously? that’s it? got me all excited to see your tits and this is what you have to show?”

you look down at your incredibly normal and attractive chest. you’d never really doubted the allure of that part of your body before. should you have?

the humiliating comment causes a lump to form in your throat... and an embarrassingly intense ache to shoot through your heat. 

he tugs the center hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric further off your shoulders. “it’s a good thing the other guys didn’t see them. they’re far more superficial than me. you should be grateful you found a guy who can look past the disappointment. ”

hanbin’s free hand gropes your chest, thumb rubbing circles around one nipple and then the next as you let out a soft whimper.

“mm, i heard that,” he breathes with a smirk. “even though you never hear me. probably didn’t even fucking clock the first line in that stupid poem. but i hear you, dove. so let me give you what you want. all you have to do is ask.”

you gulp, softly responding, “w-want you to... touch me.”

“yeah?” hanbin affirms, finger trailing down your stomach.

you nod again, this time more assuredly under the guise of his encouraging smile. that is, until a harsh slap stings your cheek.

“well that wasn’t a fucking question, was it?” hanbin hisses, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek with his thumb. “you’re in an advanced poetry class and you don’t even know how to form an interrogative sentence? just must be doodling all the time, huh? about all the boys who’ve made a mess of you this week? like the dumb little slut you are.”

hanbin’s free hand slips under your skirt, fingers brushing over your clothed core before pulling it out again. you gasp when you see his fingers already covered in your arousal.

his eyes darken as he reaches up your skirt again, tearing a hole right through your lace panties and stuffing two fingers inside of you immediately as you cry out. 

“oh, dove, why would i wanna put my cock in here, hm? can already feel how much those other assholes have stretched you out,” hanbin says with another sigh of disappointment. 

another bout of worry clouds your mind. was that true? was matthew right? you thought he was just being a misogynistic pig, but... had you really been physically tainted from the events of this week?

“so fucking lucky, dove,” hanbin whispers, removing his hand from your heat and taking one of yours. he brings it down the front of his athletic shorts and then wraps it around his impossibly hard length. you look up at him, wide-eyed. “where every other man would see damaged goods, i see prime real estate.”

“what—”

“gonna fuck you now, m’kay?” hanbin interjects, pulling his shorts down and exposing himself to you. you hadn’t really seen the other boys up close or at all like this. hanbin’s cock is pretty, long with just a few visible veins and a pink head that’s leaking a bit of pre-cum. it makes your mouth water. maybe you are a dumb slut.

maybe you like it like that.

or maybe it’s just hanbin’s large hand covering your throat, pressing at the sides tenderly that’s making you start to feel a bit high. he brings himself to your entrance, lining up the tip and coating it in your juices. he’s about to push himself inside of you, when he suddenly freezes.

“you want me to, right?” hanbin asks, tone suddenly much softer than it was before. his eyes are locked with yours, holding you there with him against the wall of lockers. “you want me inside you? just me. not those other guys? not junseo hyung-nim or—”

BEEEEEEEEEP. BRRANG. BRRANG. BRRANG. BEEEEEEEE....

a fire alarm rips through the locker room, loud and annoying as ever. you try to jump out of hanbin’s grasp, but his hands stay fixed around you. 

“let me... let me go!” you assert, hitting his chest with your palm. the pressure on your neck that felt so good just a few moments ago is now filling you with fear, “are you trying to kill me or something!?”

his brow raises slightly, as if he only just noticed the alarm. his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to scramble away from him. 

“of course i’m not,” he replies dejectedly, re-situating his shorts before huffing, “like you have a body worth going to jail for.”

“oh, shut up,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you race to re-button your shirt. “this is all YOUR fault. whatever’s going on this week, i know you’re behind it. you’ve run out of ideas to keep me small. but i’m not small. in fact, i’m a much bigger person than you are! so... i’m sorry for whatever i did that made you hate me so much in the first place. now, please, let’s get out of here.”

you start to run down the aisle of lockers towards the exit door, but a lack of footsteps behind you causes you to stop and turn back.

“come on,” you urge as hanbin continues to stand in place and stare at you, unmoving. it might be the most infuriating thing he’s done all day. “oh, fucking burn then.”

the tangible anger in your voice startles both of you. hanbin blinks quickly back at you, wide-eyed as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. whoever gave him the right to feel that way is sorely mistaken. you turn back around, throwing over your shoulder:

“are there birds worse than vultures?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

gender neutral version below

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest/abdomen groping (reader receiving; no anatomical descriptions or gender specific language), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), finger penetration (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; regarding looseness of hole (non specific) from desperation and disappointing chest/abdomen region (not related to gender or anatomical gendered parts he's just being a dick to you i hope this makes sense)), slut and whore are also used but not in a gendered context, one slap across face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

scribble. scribble. scribble. 

the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting. 

“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral. 

“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.”

hanbin’s brow raises slightly at your answer as if it surprises him. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “why?”

you follow hanbin’s line of sight to the open page of your poetry journal. you’ve absentmindedly ripped a significant hole through several pages with your vortex of nervous scribbling.

you breathe an awkward laugh, closing your journal and putting your pencil down flat on your desk.

“you had a rough week,” hanbin says, grabbing his journal from his bag and placing it on his desk. you bite your cheeks to keep from grinning at the sight of your target. “or so i’ve heard.”

“i’m sure you have,” you mumble, glancing at the tile floor. “i’m sure everybody has.”

“they haven’t,” he replies definitively and you know he’s telling the truth. “i promise they haven’t.”

hanbin was a tricky one. the star of the soccer team and undoubtedly the most popular boy at your university, it comes as no surprise that he was also the makeshift ring leader of his stupid group of friends. keeping that spotlight also meant keeping up appearances. while your other bullies made their distaste for you known whenever possible, hanbin had a different preferred method of torture.

he liked to play nice. compliment your poems. share a laugh... reel you in.

until you were so close, you couldn’t escape. that’s when he’d flip the script on you. 

like when he sent your poem about the boy you liked to the entire university’s mailing list last year. you’d insisted you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him. you recoiled with embarrassment at the thought of junseo, your senior lab partner, finding out. but he pushed. made you think you could trust him.

the next day, it was pinned to every bulletin board across campus next to a picture of you that hanbin had taken on your class trip to the national library. like some sort of sick calling card.

junseo sunbae-nim never muttered more than a word to you ever again.

so that’s how all this started. hanbin recruiting his three (and then four) asshole friends in a sudden and violent quest to become the bane of your existence. 

sometimes you still can’t help but wonder if you’d done something to upset him. but you shake off that thought each time. you won’t let him get in your head again so easily.

you’ve about mustered the courage to give hanbin some snarky response when your professor’s chalk hatchings across the blackboard send a hush over the classroom.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor choi greets happily, underlining today’s date on the board. “let’s jump right in today and start with our weekly journals. please share with your desk partner the poem that this week so far inspired you to write.”

your eyes fix on hanbin’s journal again, anticipation stirring as you think about the clues that could be hidden in his poem this week. could the answers you’re looking for really be inside that black, leather book?

“you should go fi—,” you start to suggest a bit too quietly before hanbin unknowingly cuts you off.

“do you wanna go first?” he asks brightly, smile lines illuminating his soft features. you know you shouldn’t indulge him, but you can never stop the corners of your lips from involuntarily turning up in response. no matter how much you hated him, his fairytale prince looks were undeniable.

“oh, uh,” you stammer, grabbing your journal and flipping it open to your entry from this week. you look at the poem you wrote, eyes scanning over the emotional stanzas as you bite your lip uneasily. “i dunno. i kind of got a bit too... personal this week.”

“oh, you know i don’t mind,” he replies calmly. “that’s what poetry is, right?”

“i’m well aware you don’t mind me spilling personal details to you,” you reply with a glare. “but i mind.”

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor choi’s voice suddenly rings over your shoulder. “let’s get reading, okay? time is limited.”

you swallow hard, looking down at your journal shamefully. “yes, professor-nim.”

“so what’s it called?” hanbin asks as professor choi makes her way back up to her desk, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. “your poem?”

“the bird,” you answer softly. “it’s called the bird.”

he nods pensively before gesturing for you to start. you look back down at the page, fingers shaking as you try to hold your journal steady. clearing your throat, you recite:

“from it’s perch at the window, it will never be much. the vultures jeered at it as they circled above. then one flew down— with taloned-hand, he did touch. and a meek little finch turned into a dove. if a dove it can be, it will be it as such. til another vulture fell to his knees with a glove. parted it’s feathers and took it in his clutch. and from the fair bird, made a raven thereof. it needs to change back, so it tries to stay hush. but a third brash vulture throws it off with a shove. the reluctant truth is it’s filling with lust... and it’s growing quite scared of the bird it will become.”

you blink back tears as you close your journal and place it on your desk in front of you. maybe it’s your lack of sleep or the mentally and physically jarring week you’ve had, but reading your poem aloud had left you feeling quite vulnerable.

“that was beautiful, (y/n),” hanbin says suddenly, prying you from your regret. you turn to him, eyes wide as he nods thoughtfully. “i really appreciated the metaphor of the bird. the vultures are considered bad birds, but somehow they changed the subject from an unassuming bird into the more beautiful bird it seemed to want to be... but never thought it could.”

you stare at him as he glances up at the ceiling, those handsome smile lines crinkling his cheeks again.

“funny how things we could perceive as wrong or immoral can actually have a positive effect on us,” he muses with a chuckle. “but it’s only natural for the bird to question that change. it’s done more of that ‘bad’ thing and now it’s afraid it’s been turned into a raven. a bird that’s frightening. or maybe a bird it can’t recognize anymore when it looks in the mirror.”

“it did,” you assert quietly. “it did change the bird.”

“but it sounds like the bird likes that change. at least part of it,” hanbin rebuts, meeting your gaze. “perhaps if it embraces that and sheds it’s own guilt— or molts, if you will— it’ll realize the raven is another distortion of the bird’s own making, just like the finch was. it’ll realize it is the dove and it always has been.”

your lips part as you gape at hanbin in awe. it was hard not to let your guard down with him when he always dissected your poems so intuitively like this. memories of intense public humiliation are the only thing that can keep you grounded.

“or,” he adds, a small smirk upturning the corner of his lips. “i guess it could also realize that ravens and vultures aren’t the bad birds it thinks they are. maybe it finds that, after all this worrying, the bird was meant to be a vulture, too.”

“under a minute left,” professor choi calls out from the front of the classroom.

shit. hanbin had talked so much about your poem that he barely had any time left to share his— the poem you desperately needed to be shared in the first place.

hanbin’s still rambling on about vultures, but you’re not paying any attention as a wave of panic rushes over you. 

“you should share yours still,” you prompt a little too eagerly, cutting him off mid-sentence. trying your best to dial it back, you add, “i’m sure it’s very interesting, what with the big game on saturday and all.”

hanbin smiles, holding your gaze for a moment too long. it’s suspicious, but his eyes give nothing away.

“if it’s okay with you, i’d rather not share this week,” he says, throwing his journal back in his bag. “i got a little too... how did you put it? personal.”

you blink at him. “but—. but that’s what i said and you—.”

hanbin mutters something under his breath that you swear sounds like, “not like you’d listen to me anyway.”

but you must’ve misheard him.

your heart sinks, your plan crumbling to ashes before your eyes as professor choi launches into a lecture about wilfred owen’s 20th century use of assonance. hanbin had to have written something about what his friends had been up to. that’s why he used up so much time focusing on your poem. 

your pencil moves across your paper, absentmindedly taking notes until you reach the only possible conclusion: you can’t give up. you’ll just have to amend the plan.

after class, you hurriedly gather your things and run out the door, pulling your phone out and typing vigorously as you make your way to the bathroom.

WHEN DOES THE BOYS’ SOCCER PRACTICE GO UNTIL TONIGHT!? mina: ??? NO QUESTIONS. JUST ANSWERS. mina: jiwoong oppa is picking me up at 7. so i assume about 6:30. THANK U BYE and... please be careful around him. mina: yeah, yeah, yeah i’ll use protection ily

totally not what you meant. and you’d hate to break it to her, but after his little stunt on monday, you’re not sure how fond her jiwoong oppa would be of that request.

6:30. practice would start soon, giving you plenty of time to slip into the boys’ locker room, read hanbin’s journal, and slip out undetected. 

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror.

a raven’s beady eyes stare back.

~

you kill some time in the library, waiting until practice is well underway before making your way across campus to the gymnasium. your heart is already pounding in your ears just thinking about the little heist you’re about to pull.

but your legs keep propelling you forward.

pulling open the building door, you step inside cautiously. the women’s badminton team is stretching in the atrium of the building, but there’s no sign of anyone else. you head right down the hallway, walking past the cardio fitness center and the weight-lifting gym until you’re in front of the boys’ locker room door.

you put an ear to it, hearing nothing but the whirring of a fan on the other side.

fuck it.

you pull open the door and step inside, white and grey tiled walls and rows of blue lockers surrounding you. your heart races as you look back at the door, wondering if it’s not too late to abandon your mission.

you shake your head. no. you need to find that journal.

with a steadying breath, you begin to walk through the first row of lockers. when you don’t spot hanbin’s bag, you proceed to the second row. and then the next. and then the next until you finally spot it.

tucked under the wooden bench running down the middle of the aisle is a familiar brown, leather messenger bag. you run to it, picking it up from the floor and setting it down on the bench. you unclasp the latch on the front of the bag and lift the flap, opening it up and reaching inside it.

your hand hits something... fluffy. you grab the fuzzy item and pull it out, squealing when you see that it’s a tiny, cream-colored hamster plush. it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole goddamn life. 

and you are disappointed to find yourself thinking it bears a striking resemblance to its owner.

you stuff the little hamster back into the bag. as cute as he is, it’s not what you came here for. you gasp when you feel the cold leather-bound journal in your hand, pulling it out hurriedly and examining the cover.

you open the journal, flipping through the pages rashly until you locate an entry with today’s date at the top. it reads:

“if one is a vulture, it’s assumed they’re no good— despite all the research that they’re helpful to earth. does the finch know that if that vulture could, he’d hunt for a mirror and show it it’s worth? if that finch is a dove, there’d be something that would still keep it away from achieving true mirth. it’s the vultures, the bird cries before it understood: the vulture has always been a sign of rebirth. a dove, raven, vulture, or finch from the woods, the vultures will find it and double their search. but for someone who claims they feel misunderstood, it’s repulsive the lengths it would go to unearth... something that does not belong to that bird. seems the dove was a raven afterall.”

“pretty good, huh?” the sudden voice behind you makes you jump. “wrote it in, like, ten minutes after class. what can i say? i was inspired.”

you don’t turn around. your face is already on fire from how mortified you are. of course, you’d considered the possibility of being caught. but you hadn’t really realized the weight of that consequence until this moment.

“actually, i think it might be even better than the original,” he continues, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors as he draws nearer. “i mean, you really should’ve thought to flesh out those vulture characters a bit. and you didn’t even consider looking up the well-known symbolism behind them.”

a hot breath fans across the back of your neck, causing you to shiver as a hand wraps around the leather-bound journal and pries it from yours.

“i have to admit, i didn’t really think you had it in you,” he says with a chuckle, fingers suddenly hooking into your waistband and turning you around to face him. he’s in his red and white soccer uniform, skin glistening from the practice meet he should be at right now. “but just in case, i wanted to be prepared. write you something worth reading.”

“h-how did you know?” you stutter quietly. “that i—”

“well, you weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?” hanbin smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘you should read your poem, hanbin. i’m sure it’s exciting with the big game coming up’. like you give a fuck about my poetry.”

that last sentence reminds you of what you thought you’d heard him mumble in class today: not like you’d listen to me anyway.

what was that about?

“aw, don’t get sad now that your plan didn’t go your way,” hanbin coos, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “i thought it was kind of cute. i can forgive you for stealing, right? you just wanted my attention so badly that you had to play a bit dirty.”

you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s not like that! i swear i wasn’t trying to get your attention, i just—”

“well then, jesus fucking christ, what do i have to do to—,” hanbin snaps before promptly cutting himself off. there’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before: desperation. 

a large hand wraps around your throat in an instant, shoving you up against a blue locker. the motion knocks the wind out of you and you find yourself gasping for air. your hand flies to remove his from around your neck, but he catches it in his free one and brings it gently back down to your side. 

“i told you in class that if you needed help calling off the vultures, you should ask me while you still can,” hanbin rasps, rubbing his thumb up the left side of your throat. “but you weren’t listening, dove. the gulper got first bite. the rippers tore you apart...”

you breathe shallowly, glancing from side to side for some route of escape.

“but now the king has landed,” he says, tongue flitting across his teeth. “and he’s fucking starving.”

you blink at him, lips parted in stupid shock. “i—... i honestly had no idea you knew so much about vultures.”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU TOOK FROM THAT ARE YOU KID—,” he yells, finger pads digging in tighter to the skin of your neck. his gaze falls to your lips, supple and pretty even in fear. he trails down to your shirt, a button-up front that seems to entice him. “take it off.”

“b-but—.”

“take it the fuck off, (y/n). you should know by now how this goes,” hanbin snarls, grabbing your hand and bringing it to the trail of buttons. you start to fiddle with them, but you have some trouble under the pressure of his gaze. “can’t even undo a button? hm? too fucking stupid, dove?”

you find yourself nodding against all odds.

“need binnie to do it for you?” he coos, smile lines illuminating his face again.

you just nod again. it seems to be what you do best.

hanbin unfastens the buttons one-handed and with ease. once your shirt is open, he tugs it to the side and exposes your chest. then, he sighs with dramatic disappointment. “seriously? that’s it? got me all excited to see how good you look under here and this is what you have to show?”

you look down at your incredibly normal and attractive upper body. you’d never really doubted the aesthetics of it before. should you have?

the humiliating comment causes a lump to form in your throat... and an embarrassingly intense ache to shoot through your heat. 

he tugs the center hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric further off your shoulders. “it’s a good thing the other guys didn’t see this. they’re far more superficial than me. you should be grateful you found a guy who can look past the disappointment. ”

hanbin’s free hand roams across your abdomen and chest, fingers ghosting sweetly against your skin until you let out the tiniest whimper.

“mm, i heard that,” he breathes with a smirk. “even though you never hear me. probably didn’t even fucking clock the first line in that stupid poem. but i hear you, dove. so let me give you what you want. all you have to do is ask.”

you gulp, softly responding, “w-want you to... touch me.”

“yeah?” hanbin affirms, finger trailing down your stomach.

you nod again, this time more assuredly under the guise of his encouraging smile. that is, until a harsh slap stings your cheek.

“well that wasn’t a fucking question, was it?” hanbin hisses, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek with his thumb. “you’re in an advanced poetry class and you don’t even know how to form an interrogative sentence? just must be doodling all the time, huh? about all the boys who’ve made a mess of you this week? like the dumb little slut you are.”

hanbin’s free hand finds it’s way into your jeans, fingers brushing over your clothed core before pulling it out again. you gasp when you see his fingers already covered in your arousal.

his eyes darken as he undoes the button clasp and zipper of your pants, shoving your underwear to the side with his fingers. he forces your legs a bit farther apart before stuffing a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out. 

“oh, dove, why would i wanna put my cock in here, hm? so desperate, i could slip right in,” hanbin says with another sigh of disappointment. “did the other guys really make such a whore of you?”

another bout of worry clouds your mind. was that true? was matthew right? you thought he was just being a red-pilled pig, but... had you somehow been physically tainted from the events of this week?

“so fucking lucky, dove,” hanbin whispers, removing his hand from your center and taking one of yours. he brings it down the front of his athletic shorts and then wraps it around his impossibly hard length. you look up at him, wide-eyed. “where every other man would see damaged goods, i see prime real estate.”

“what—”

“gonna fuck you now, m’kay?” hanbin interjects, pulling his shorts down and exposing himself to you. you hadn’t really seen the other boys up close or at all like this. hanbin’s cock is pretty— long with just a few visible veins and a pink head that’s leaking a bit of pre-cum. it makes your mouth water. maybe you are a dumb slut.

maybe you like it like that.

or maybe it’s just hanbin’s large hand covering your throat, pressing at the sides both tenderly and persistently that’s making you feel a bit high. he brings himself to your entrance, spitting in his hand and covering his length as he lines up the tip. he’s about to push himself inside of you, when he suddenly freezes.

“you want me to, right?” hanbin asks, tone suddenly much softer than it was before. his eyes are locked with yours, holding you there with him against the wall of lockers. “you want me inside you? just me. not those other guys? not junseo hyung-nim or—”

BEEEEEEEEEP. BRRANG. BRRANG. BRRANG. BEEEEEEEE....

a fire alarm rips through the locker room, loud and annoying as ever. you try to jump out of hanbin’s grasp, but his hands stay fixed around you. 

“let me... let me go!” you assert, hitting his chest with your palm. the pressure on your neck that felt so good just a few moments ago is now filling you with fear, “are you trying to kill me or something!?”

his brow raises slightly, as if he only just noticed the alarm. his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to scramble away from him, frantically zipping up your jeans. 

“of course i’m not,” he replies dejectedly, re-situating his shorts before huffing, “like you have a body worth going to jail for.”

“oh, shut up,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you race to re-button your shirt. “this is all YOUR fault. whatever’s going on this week, i know you’re behind it. you’ve run out of ideas to keep me small. but i’m not small. in fact, i’m a much bigger person than you are! so... i’m sorry for whatever i did that made you hate me so much in the first place. now, please, let’s get out of here.”

you start to run down the aisle of lockers towards the exit door, but a lack of footsteps behind you causes you to stop and turn back.

“come on,” you urge as hanbin continues to stand in place and stare at you, unmoving. it might be the most infuriating thing he’s done all day. “oh, fucking burn then.”

the tangible anger in your voice startles both of you. hanbin blinks quickly back at you, wide-eyed as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. whoever gave him the right to feel that way is sorely mistaken. you turn back around, throwing over your shoulder:

“are there birds worse than vultures?”

#zb1 smut #zerobaseone smut #zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 fics #zb1 imagines #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone fics #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 writing #zb1 series #zerobaseone writing #sung hanbin #zerobaseone x reader #sung hanbin smut #hanbin #hanbin smut #hanbin x reader #zb1 angst #sung hanbin angst #sung hanbin x reader #zb1 hanbin #zb1 sung hanbin #zerobaseone hanbin #sung hanbin fics #sung hanbin imagines #hanbin fics #hanbin imagines #seok matthew smut #kim jiwoong smut

[solarwoniii]

heyyy!! just wondering if i could request “zb1 legal line reaction to catching their s/o masturbating” hehehehheheehehe if not all goodzz 💗💗

reaction to catching you touching yourself ! zb1 legal line

smut, crack, some fluff ! includes jiwoong, zhanghao, hanbin, matthew, taerae and ricky

contains ; dacryphilia, punishments, i think thats all? lmk if i missed any T^T

a/n ; THANK U FOR UR REQUEST ♡ HAD SO MUCH FUN DOING THIS

jiwoong ;

would laugh at you but not in a cute funny quirky silly way

that low kind of dominant chuckle that makes you realise.

you fucked up.

he'd pull up a chair beside the bed and insist for you to continue in that same scary tone ur mum talks in when u forget to wash the dishes 😰😰😰😨😨

and then he'll force you to make yourself cum until you're crying while he sat there and watched because you're not allowed to stop until he says.

then he'll finally touch you.

with his fingertips.

just to fuck with you more because he's a petty little bitch

edging you until you're shaking, eyes rolling back, body arching

and then, and only then will you get to cum.

zhanghao ;

finds it cute that you think you're so big and strong now

puts ur ass in its place so fast 🫣🫣

love bites all over you

your body is his canvas and his marks are his art 😵😶

actually, this timing is perfect

he'd been waiting for you to misbehave so he could try out the new vibrator he got for you

edges you again and again, just to rip away your orgasm and have you crying

when you finally cum you both know damn well it's not over 💀 keeps the vibrator in that exact spot and refuses to move it until you cum another three times.

i'm sorry i just think mean dom hao is extremely accurate and attractive

hanbin ;

i think he would genuinely laugh at you 💀

and you would try to be mad at him for laughing at you but his stupid laugh is unfortunately extremely contagious 😭😔

when he's done laughing at you he'll come and help you

i think it would be all giggly and fluffy and cute though

and then you would cuddle naked (i feel like hanbin wld enjoy this so much during aftercare esp idk) and gossip LMFAO

matthew ;

GETS SO SHY I SWEAR JSJSJSJS

THE PERSONIFICATION OF 😳

quickly closes the door behind him before anyone else can see what he's seeing

'd-do u want me to . . .' 'o-oh ok'

he's flustered but he will help you feel good 😭

turns into a cute little mutual masturbation session after u notice the boner building up in his pants from the sight of u T^T

when you both finish he'll clean you up and then be a little cutie patootie

'uhmmm there was this disney movie i really wanted to watch with you so could we maybe do that now ? 👉👈'

taerae ;

just smiles and locks the door behind him when he realises what you're doing

'do you need my help baby?'

he'll sit beside you and replace your hand with his

helps you reach the best orgasm of your life with his skilled fingers

idk i genuinely don't think he would get mad

but he'll remind you that you can always come to him if you're feeling needy.

kisses

so many kisses

he'll give you more than his fingers after as well if you still want more ;))

ricky ;

YEAH THATS RIGHT WE'RE BACK TO PUSSY SLAPPER RICKY BECAUSE MY LOVE MIYUKI PUT THE THOUGHT INTO MY HEAD AND I REFUSE TO LET GO

when he walks in i think he'd get flustered but he'd quickly cover it up because being seen like that by you hurts his precious ego

AGAIN LOW DOMINANT CHUCKLE he takes after jiwoong because he aspires to one day be that cool and strong but u already know he's a cute little softie

'if you wanted me to treat you like a little whore you could've just said so, baby.'

AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 😭😶🫣😵😳😰😭😶

gets you up on all fours and spanks your pussy until it's swollen and dripping.

then he'll mark your body up and take photos of you for his little collection 😨

eats you out (prolly makes u sit on his face too bc he's a little freak)

#zb1 #zb1 smut #zerobaseone #zb1 jiwoong #zb1 zhanghao #zb1 hanbin #zb1 matthew #zb1 taerae #zb1 ricky #zerobaseone smut #zb1 fluff #zb1 drabbles #zb1 smau

[hayleythesugarbowl]

CHANDLER HCS PLEASE 🙏😭 i know you have some pretty popular Joey hcs and i would love some for Chandler Bing i love him so much thank you in advance

chandler bing x reader headcanons

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • f•r•i•e•n•d•s masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

a/n: happy to give you the chandler content you deserve. i imagine this to take place in s1. hope you enjoy!! 💌🍒

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dating chandler would include…

so when he first saw you he thought you were way out of his league 

but joey convinced him to ask you out 

and you found his awkwardness adorable 

but you had to say ‘yes, I’ll go out with you’ a few times before he believed you 

‘are you sure? because don’t worry if you’re rejecting me, i’m good at this part.’

he took you to an aquarium for your first date because he had free tickets

(‘you know, i’ve never really seen the appeal of these things. i mean, do you think in another world fish go pay to see us walk around in our homes?’ you laughed at that.)

and one of the tanks broke and soaked you both

after giving you his jacket and walking you back to your apartment he said:

‘let me guess, you’ll call me?’

‘what? you think one wet, fishy date is going to stop me from seeing you again?’

‘from your tone im guessing no, in which case I’m thrilled and I’ll call you as soon as i get to my apartment.’

you kissed him as he stood there blushing 

and you were all he could talk about for weeks. 

he found ways to bring you up in every conversation 

‘speaking off coffee, you know (y/n)…” 

he loves cuddling with you

and watching tv in his chair together

which started because joey didn’t want anyone else siting in his chair 

he brags about you all the time to his friends

Joey flirts with you whenever you go back to chandler’s apartment 

but it’s all in good fun and joey is thrilled to see chandler so happy 

chandler asks you for fashion advice constantly 

‘ok be honest: do i look like my grandmother in this?’

he gets so easily flustered like 😫 ajhfsfagajslf 

‘you’re so sexy’

‘i—you—you think I’m sexy? i mean, um, i—i just made it un-sexy didn’t i?’

he even quit smoking for you 

he needs reassurance that you love him and that he’s good enough for you all the time 

when you’re at work or he’s at work he calls you literally every hour just to say ‘hi’

he asks Rachel and Monica and Phoebe for advice on how to please you 

you become really close with all of his friends and they love you so much 

chandler can always make you smile or laugh even on your worst days 

and he enjoys doing so

you play with his hair all the time

‘my parents? are you sure we don’t want to go see your family for the holidays?’

he said i love you first 

and then panicked that you weren’t going to say it too, as he tried to backtrack 

but you assured him that you loved him so much 

when you first started going out, he knew that he really liked you 

but as time went on he found himself falling more and more in love with you 

and that scared him 

until he realized that he was ready. that he wanted to be in a long-term relationship with you

maybe spend the rest of his life with you 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope this is what you wanted. i love writing for chandler so much. also rip matthew perry 🤍

#chandler bing #chandler bing x reader #chandler bing headcanons #f•r•i•e•n•d•s #friends headcanons #friends imagines #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #x reader #headcanon #matthew perry

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: cooking with zb1

a/n: i’m not the greatest cook myself so apologies if some of this is terribly misinformed, but i can bake okay (during quarantine i’d bake when in class sooo)

notes: yujin is not included due to his age!

wc | 1.4k

jiwoong is a monster when it comes to cooking, but NOT baking. give this man a grill and a slab of meat and you have a masterpiece, but give him a mixing bowl and a recipe and he’s clueless. as such, assuming you’re a good baker, you and jiwoong are the perfect summer barbecue couple, and the ideal dinner party couple. but, i think the real fun is when you make jiwoong bake with you—you offer as much help as you can, but let him take the wheel. he can make it through brownies and cookies, but his weakness is bread—he doesn’t like how long he has to wait. he also doesn’t understand why he has to punch the dough???? i also think he doesn’t understand why you need to make it yourself when you can just go to the store…and when you say you can buy cookies at the store too, he says it’s “different.” okay then!

zhang hao is a princess and therefore does not cook or bake. and, when he does, it is a meal only HIS taste buds enjoy…my reference is whatever he was doing in camp zb1 with that soup. the nice thing is that he loves whatever you make, no matter what it is. you could put slop in front of him and, as long as it was constructed by you, he would eat the entire bowl. hao feels very loved when you cook him a meal or bake him a little treat, especially when he comes home to it. there’s no better feeling (in his opinion) than opening the front door and immediately smelling a batch of cookies cooling on the kitchen counter. because he’s far from home, i think hao will feel especially warm when he comes home to you making any sort of food he had often back home—so perhaps give his mom a call and ask for some recipes.

sung hanbin can’t cook very well, but can bake okay! perhaps you’ll be gifted some cold toast from time to time, but at least it comes with the opportunity to look at his face. but, if you ask hanbin for a fun drink … THAT is a different story. sung hanbin is the god of fun drinks, so if you’re a beverage person, he’s the exact right guy for you to date. he has a million fancy drink tools in his kitchen (an espresso machine, a high-tech blender that costs an arm and a leg, etc) and can make you anything you want. he also can make a MEAN shirley temple, which is an essential quality in a person. hanbin’s absolute favorite thing to do though is have you bake some fun dessert that he can make the perfect drink to pair it with—whether it be bitter coffee or a sweet smoothie, it brings him a lot of joy. it also brings him a lot of joy to enjoy both of the creations with you while you tell him all about how your week went.

matthew can do everything in the kitchen. say what you will, but MAN, matthew can make a MEAL. i mean the fries he made on camp zb1 looked so delicious and he straight-up did that himself. i think your favorite pastime in a relationship with matthew is watching him cook because he will roll up his sleeves and chop away at whatever he’s making, making the muscles come out. especially if he’s dealing with anything that might be sort of tough, and he often is because he likes to show off—if you ask him to make you an apple pie, he will rip the apples in half in front of you. i also think he likes to narrate what he’s doing like he’s on a cooking show, and will proceed to tell you that there’s going to be a test on what he taught the next day. matthew loves cooking for you, so make sure you let him know that you love what he cooks with a kiss on the cheek and a big “thank you” :)

taerae is decently good at both. he’s not exactly the best cook or the number one baker, but he knows enough to make some good food. i think he’d prefer cooking/baking with you rather than by himself, and you pretty much do, too. one of you will pick a recipe and assign tasks to the other, whether it be chopping up a carrot or grating some cheese. sometimes, he’ll jokingly pretend like he’s gordon ramsey and sarcastically joke about how “bad” you are at skinning the potato, and other times he will shout these bizarre “you’re doing great!” messages while he’s trying not to burn himself taking something out of the oven. then, when you’re close to finishing the food, you’ll sometimes throw together an easy dessert, like brownies or mug cakes, which will be done right as you finish eating. together, the two of you can make pretty good meals!

ricky is solidly okay at cooking, and not as okay at baking. i don’t think it’s intrinsic to him, though, he just never really tried to teach himself how to do either. he can boil water and make himself instant noodles, but he’s not crafting a perfectly cooked salmon over the most delicious rice you’ve ever had. there are other things ricky would instead dedicate himself to, like dancing or upgrading his wardrobe, so he’s never tried to upgrade his cooking skills. in fact, he’s kind of glad he never did, because now he can force you to teach him all that he wants to know. he basks in the light of your complete attention as you help him peel a potato, your hands over his as you drag the peeler across the vegetable. then, when you finish the meal, he revels in your praise as you compliment his “newfound skills” in pasta making. just make sure not to tell him you know what he’s doing.

i think gyuvin would be good at both!! judging by his snack bag, he cares a lot about yummy food and thus can carry himself in the kitchen. although, i think he’d be a lot better at baking than cooking. it’s just easier to follow a recipe to a t, and once you teach yourself how to gauge whether or not something is over-mixed, it’s smooth sailing from there. from soft and custardy lemon bars to hard-headed creme brulee, gyuvin loves gifting you with little sweet treats every week. when you were in high school, he’d bake you a treat and give it to you every friday, loving how your eyes would light up at the sight of his mom’s purple tupperware. in particular, i think gyuvin would be a good cake baker, and he absolutely goes all out for your birthday. flowers crafted with icing, any flavor your heart desires, and the most beautiful array of candles he could find—it makes you happier than you can describe. and then he gets you a super lame gift because he spent all his money on cake supplies lol

gunwook is a cook, but decidedly not a baker. his specialties happen to be any sort of stir fry and really good instant noodles, and his weaknesses are anything that requires him to stick a knife in to check if it’s done. he refuses to learn how to bake, too, because the idea that he isn’t immediately good at something terrifies him to the core and makes him feel a little sick to his stomach. the thing is, though, you don’t even know gunwook is a terrible baker for at least a year of your relationship. you automatically assume he can bake yummy cookies just from how delicious the meals he makes for you are. so, when you ask him to make you cookies and he says no almost instantly, you’re absolutely shocked—and then he lets it slip that he can’t bake for the life of him. you then learn that he hates it when you bring it up, so you stay quiet and let him sulk on his own, enjoying the taste of his yummy pork stir fry.

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee @wtfhyuck

#cinna.zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 fluff #zb1 reactions #zb1 headcanons #zb1 scenarios #jiwoong x reader #zhang hao x reader #sung hanbin x reader #seok matthew x reader #taerae x reader #shen ricky x reader #gyuvin x reader #gunwook x reader #req

[lunatiqez]

PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY is a new discovery I’ve made and I officially cannot get over it. He’d SO be into photography,, so here are my headcanons for the silly guy!!! Ty for @mictodii for helping me figure out both the AU and some of the headcanons!! Ilysm!!!!

Side note: angsty at the end bc ;3333 I’m cruel. I love u guys I’m so sorry

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who was absolutely ecstatic when the gang, including you, all saved up money to by him his very own camera

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will take any picture of any scene ever. A train station? Snapping a picture of it. A tree? Snapping a picture of it. A couple of rocks by a creek? You guessed it, snapping a picture of it.

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will always have extra rolls of film on him— 24/7, 365. Eventually, he’d carry around a satchel with him to carry his film, camera, etc.

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will take pictures of his friends any chance he gets.

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will, additionally, keep every picture of him and his friends. it’s blurry? Oh well, that means we were having a good time!

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who has a photo book and a wall of pictures in his room.

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who writes the names and dates on the back of every picture in cursive. “(From left to right) Steve Randle, Sodapop Curtis, Johnny Cade, Y/N Y/L/N, Dallas Winston, Two-Bit Matthews, and Darry Curtis.”

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will offer to take pictures of you personally. “Cmon, you look really good!” “Just stay like that, just for a second so I can get a picture!”

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will no doubt take pictures of you when you’re caught off guard. And you, who will no doubt will rip up as much of the bad pictures as you can.

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who has too many pictures of special events. Your birthday? He has AT LEAST 50 photos of all of the things you did that day.

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will eventually look back at these photos when he finds them again. After Johnny and Dally died, after Soda went off to war. When everything was better. When everything was perfect.

#TWO WRITINGS IN ONE DAY???? #I’m on a roll guys #I’m too good #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders x you #the outsiders x y/n #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders fanfic #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders ponyboy #ponyboy #ponyboy Curtis #ponyboy x reader #Ponyboy x you #Ponyboy x y/n #ponyboy headcanons #ponyboy imagine #Ponyboy fanfiction #Ponyboy fanfic #the outsiders hcs #📂 — liv’s writings ★.

[courtforshort15]

Chapter 1

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem reader

Word Count: 4,700

Summary: It's a Wednesday when the sky quite literally opens up above you. The Battle of New York rages around you, and the only thing that gets you through is the stranger standing next to you. Matthew Murdock is more than he seems, keeping you safe in a city that is literally crumbling around you, and even once the dust settles, his hand is the only thing you don't want to let go of.

Trigger warning: none really, just some references to violence, some ableism

Chapter Index

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

It’s a Wednesday when the sky quite literally opens up.

Sipping your coffee, you lazily walk down the street, following the crowd that moves towards the intersection just a few yards ahead of you. Your feet are killing you in your shoes, which is really nothing new, the back of your heels feeling like nothing but one large blister that's scabbed over and ripped apart all over again with every step you take.

But the weather is warm and your boss is out for the day, so overall you preemptively consider this particular Wednesday a success in terms of surviving the day with minimal frustration. Dragging your tired ass to the coffee shop four blocks over had been a much needed break between meetings that honestly could have been emails, and though you have plenty of more work to do, you're in no rush to get back to the office.

Throngs of people move around you on all sides, and even while your office is located slightly outside of the main hustle and bustle that spreads across the city, the sidewalks still see some decent action. People hold their bags closely to their bodies, yourself included, eager to mind their own business and get lost in the crowd.

It's midafternoon and the sun shines brightly over the city, and though tall and sturdy buildings cast shadows over the streets, it still warms you, bright rays of light occasionally blinding you when your eyes somehow manage to look too close to the sun. It's not quite summer, so the warmth isn't yet the kind that is suffocating and sweltering on your skin, causing clothes and hair to stick to parts of your body that you'd rather they not. 

The blocks of New York are loud, filled with mindless chatter, honking cars, and the occasional passersby that plays loud music out of their backpack. All in all, it's a typical, unsuspecting Wednesday. Your phone rings in your pocket, no doubt your annoying coworker Brenda who probably thinks you've been gone for too long now, so you ignore the buzzing in your purse and instead choose to walk even slower. It's not necessarily the kindest thing to do on a busy sidewalk, but the thought of Brenda's disapproving stare and severe frown as she crosses her arms over her chest makes you want to avoid the office even longer.

With a quick bite of your lip, you decide to double back and essentially make the same journey to and from the coffee shop all over again, savoring the fresh air and lack of boring office gossip spilling from various middle aged women who work on your floor. Your sore feet hate you at the choice, but you push the pain lightly aside if only to hold on to your sanity for just a few minutes longer. You're still a few blocks away and standing on a street corner waiting for the cross signal when there’s a deep rumble and a blinding flash of light.

Startled, coffee dropping in shock and spilling across the bottom of your legs as it falls, you look up sharply. No one seems to know what's happened, faces just as confused and fearful as yours as people pause to aim their sight above, but the screaming starts when things start pouring out from an open slash in the sky.

There is immediate widespread panic, and the sudden change in the tone and pulse of New York City is catastrophic. 

It’s the sense of panic you can choke on. It’s the kind of panic that makes people absolutely mindless as they push and shove and dive around each other, everyone trying to run for cover without any thought for the thousands of other people also trying to run away from the mayhem.

You’re not a native New Yorker, but even you’ve become desensitized by some of the shit going on around you on a fairly regular basis. In what they’ve referred to as the Harlem Horror, a beast they’ve named the Hulk destroys buildings and cars and businesses just 5 miles north of where you live in your tiny apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. Iron Man flies over midtown on a regular basis and no one bats an eye anymore, people simply resuming their journey while the billionaire plays with his toys. A super soldier thought dead for decades runs through Times Square before having a run-in with some official government-looking agency, and people only stop and stare for a few moments before continuing on with their busy lives. In New York City, these things just happen.

But this?

This is nothing like the world’s ever seen before, not in real life at least, and it causes instantaneous mass chaos. 

Terror induced chaos.

You’re no different than anyone else, not really. No different than the people scrambling all around you, dropping their things in a rush to be literally anywhere else. You round a corner, mind frantically trying to decide which way to go, hands shaking, vision hazy and unfocused in your terror. Someone stumbles into you, causing you to crash into a lamp post, and you find yourself clinging to it for dear life as you try to wrap your head around the freefall that New York City has found itself in.

A red and gold figure rushes across the sky, the movement extremely fleeting, and you suppose the form should have been comforting, should have been proof that those who could help were already on the scene, fully aware of what was happening and rushing to stop it. But his appearance does the complete opposite, somehow cementing the fact that this is real, this is happening, and this is not just a figment of your imagination.

People are still pouring by you, screams shrill and piercing, and all it takes is another boom above to force you to move your feet again. With a panicked gulp, your body shifts to the left, deciding instinctively that it's best to follow the crowd, but before you can take another step, something catches your eye.

Something? No. Someone. 

Halfway down the block, a man stands on an apartment building stoop, hands wrapped tightly around a white cane, people racing by without a second glance at him. 

Blind.

Alone.

What strikes you the most is how everything is in a flurry of activity around him, but other than his head whipping around, as if trying to hone in on the things he can't see, he is still. His face is slightly pale, his hair wind-blown, alarm clearly written on his features, but he’s missing the sheer terror that's present on all the other faces that rush by. His head stills and tilts oddly, and it occurs to you briefly that’s listening. 

Which…maybe that is all he really can do, you think. But listening to the screams and horror isn’t going to be enough to help him figure out what exactly is going on, and your eyes can’t help but widen at the thought of how vulnerable he is.

Your heart is pounding and there is a roaring in your ears that feels like it’s never going to go away, but you cannot, in good conscience, leave someone there who might need help. You falter slightly, your sense of preservation telling you to continue going, to take a left and rush in the same direction everyone else is heading with the hope that the crowd will direct you to a store or shelter that seems to be the most reasonable place to find cover. According to the masses that are sprinting past you, the safest place might be west of where you're at. 

But instead of following the crowd that has somehow decided west is the correct way to go, you cross the street and turn right.

It doesn’t take you very long before you’re right in front of him as he had only been half a block up from where you’d been when you first saw him. He’s holding the cane in one hand, the knuckles white, and the glasses sitting across the bridge of his nose offer black lenses. You waste no time in placing a hand on his arm to get his attention, and the man jumps back, startled.

“Hey man,” you say breathlessly as he opens his mouth, your words still managing to be sharp in fear. “We gotta get out of here. Do you need help?”

The man frowns and licks his lips, face increasingly worried but still not necessarily horrified. You suppose the sheer terror everyone is experiencing is coming from having the ability to look up and see the swarm of black streaming down from a hole in the sky. “I, uh…what’s going on? I can hear screaming and people running by.”

“There’s some sort of invasion happening, I don’t know,” you tell him quickly, trying to keep the sheer panic from seeping into your voice. You fail miserably. “Things are like pouring out of the sky. It’s not safe. Do you live here? Maybe we can wait it out inside?”

He shakes his head rapidly, red mouth parted and drawing in shaky breaths. “I just stepped up to get out of people’s way.”

Quickly stepping around him, you push on the door behind him. It’s one that no doubt only opens for those who live in the building and own a key, but you're desperate to have some sort of cover over your head, so you try again anyway. You're unsurprised when it doesn't budge, no matter how hard you shove yourself against it. The man briefly joins in, adding his body weight next to yours, but the results are the same and you hiss in frustration.

Taking a step back from the door, you attempt to catch your breath as the panic still bounces around in your head, intensified as the sound around you continues to roar and rage. Your eyes glance up and down the street before they land on something. Whipping your head back to him, you bite your lip in brief consideration. “Okay, look. There’s a small bookstore literally right across the street and down the block from us, and it might be open. Let’s go there."

You can't run far with him, not without the risk of him tripping and pulling you down with him, images in your head of hands and knees bloodied as you'd try to pull him back up. Nearby shelter is simply the best thing. 

Your hand is shaking as it stretches out towards him, brushing against his arm, and the world briefly stalls and quiets as his lips part in a deep breath. The man's face is still pale, but it hardens, determination settling in on his handsome features, and the world speeds back up.

He takes your hand without question, and for all of three seconds you pull him behind, careful even in your rush to help him down the stairs. But his head suddenly jerks up as he yanks you to an abrupt stop. A large boom echoes above you, followed by a large ball of fire, and suddenly he's the one dragging you behind. 

You hear his cane clatter to the ground, the sound somehow sharp even amongst the chaos around and above you, but all thought of it disappears as you run up the block that is suddenly devoid of other people. 

Before, you might have questioned the way he moves, expertly dodging small bits of debris that are falling from the sky, yanking you this way and that so that nothing hits your head or his, twists and turns no blind man should be able to navigate. But for now you don't honestly care how he's doing what he's doing, you only care about the fact that he's a lifeline in the fire and dust and ash falling around you, and it's a lifeline you're unwilling to let go of.

It feels like hours, but it's only twenty seconds before you’re passing him and ripping open the glass door of the bookstore. There's not a single ounce of hesitation as he wrenches the door handle from your hands and shoves you inside first, his large form pressed against your back as if to somehow block you from the war going on outside. The door is yanked shut violently behind him as he forces you forward, hard enough to rattle the windows of the small shop.

With a loud gasp of breath, you let go of his hand to brace yourself against the wall, vision temporarily whiting out as adrenaline continues to wreak havoc through your veins, each pump of your heart violent and searing in its pursuit to push blood throughout your body. It takes several loud gasping breaths to feel like you can breathe again, to feel like your body has some control over its basic functions, air struggling to sift in and out of your lungs. The panic doesn’t stop, not completely, but the thought of not being alone is a vaguely soothing thought, as if having someone with you made the prospect of the world ending easier to handle.  

Shakily, you lift your head up, noticing for the first time that the bookstore is somehow empty besides you and the man whose hand you had gripped so tightly in yours that you'd be shocked if he didn’t wear bruises in the shape of your fingertips when all is said and done. Perhaps whoever had been in here had thought of somewhere better to run off to, and you'd be very interested in knowing what better might look like, but for now you're not inclined to leave, not when you've managed to at least put a roof over your head as things explode and rattle the streets and buildings around you. 

The lights are either turned off or the power is out, likely the latter, and all that you can see are things that are in the path of the light coming in from the windows. The man standing next to you is cast half in shadows, having stepped further into the shop, and his chest is heaving as rapidly and harshly as yours is. His hands twitch at his sides, knuckles white.

The navy suit he's wearing is absolutely covered in dust, no doubt from weaving his way through a cloud of debris that had fallen overhead as the pair of you bolted for the bookstore. Black glasses are perched on a face that did not appear to have come away completely unscathed either, a small scratch bleeding at his hairline, dark red a vivid contrast to skin that is still too pale. He’d held an arm over your head while you ran, you remember now, this random man protecting you with all that he could manage to in such a terrifying moment, with clearly little regard to his own well-being if it meant he could help someone else. 

You aren’t sure what to do with that, other than be in slight awe that the man who had seemed to vulnerable on that apartment stoop, head whipping around sightlessly and trying to figure out why people were running frantically this way and that, had been the one to protect you during those twenty seconds as you quite literally ran for your lives. 

"What's happening out there?" The man doesn't necessarily sound panicked as his voice rips you out of your head, but it doesn't mean he's calm by any means. You right yourself, pulling away from the wall you'd been leaning on, turning your body to face him more directly and taking in a form that is wired with tension. "I can't…what the fuck?"

The laugh you let out is high pitched and borderline hysterical, the sound piercing as it spears its way into the air. "I don't know. I don't know, man."

"You didn't see anything?"

You run a shaky hand through your hair, noticing suddenly that your fingers were nicked, no doubt a result of the small chunks of wood and concrete that fell from the sky and crash landed on to the streets of New York, but not before tearing your skin in its descent. "Iron Man, I saw Iron Man. He was, uh…he was flying around."

He shakes his head in bewilderment. "That's pretty typical though, I thought."

"Right!" Your voice is almost shrill. "There was this–this huge flash of light and all of the sudden there was a hole in the sky and things were just flying out of it. I've–I’ve never seen anything like it. I happened to glance up and Iron Man was whipping through the air, looking ready to fight those things and I just–"

"Things? Like aliens?”

"Exactly like aliens," you respond, hands starting to shake again, fingers trembling even as you clenched them into a loose fist. "I couldn't see them from so far away, but these things definitely weren't human."

The man gulps loudly, hands lifting from his sides to grasp his hips, and you watch as he starts pacing. He's tense, his body lean and looking ready to jump at any given second, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was prowling the book store like an animal locked in a cage, all senses in tune with the horror rampaging through New York. 

The man had appeared to be blind when you first saw him, but the way he moves confidently throughout the small space, no cane to help him avoid the book shelves and display cases in his way, is…not the most shocking thing you've seen today. You don't know this man. You don't know how much he can actually see or not see, don't know if he's completely blind or if he has some small level of sight, so you push it aside. 

"What do you think we should do?" You ask, trying to calm the tone in your voice, telling yourself you're safe for now at least. You’re not exactly successful, not with the sounds of the fight outside still ringing throughout the shop and even louder in your ears, flinching with each new boom that shakes the building. "I…I don't know what to do from here."

"I'm thinking," he grits out, the sound coming from behind clenched teeth. You don't take the tone personally. He’s not showing it, but you doubt he’s not every inch as afraid as you are. How could he not be? What's happening is seriously unprecedented and seriously fucked up. "When you saw Iron Man, where was he? Where did it look like he was headed?"

You think back on it, forcing your mind to recall the details, though you struggle for a moment as the details themselves are extremely hazy, recalling the way you had glanced up at the sky in terror while you clung to the lamp post. You’d only seen him for a split second, but your attempt to put a few mismatched pieces together manages to be somewhat successful. 

"It looked like he wasn't too far from his tower."

"And is that general direction where the hole in the sky was?"

"Yeah, I think so," you reply with another frown. "Looks like it was right over it."

"And we're on 46th, right?"

You can’t help the way your anxiety peaks at the question, clawing viciously at your throat, thinking of the exact spot you’d been standing when the sky split itself open and let loose a sea of beings intent on destroying the city, forever changing the way you’d view the world. You find a way to answer anyway, though your voice is raspy and halting in its cadence. "46th and 8th, I think. I…I was running so fast, I didn't get a good look. I'm sorry."

The man finally stops pacing and angles his body towards yours, and you notice the frown that's on his face as he immediately begins to shake his head. 

"No," he says, hands still on his hips as a loud sigh escapes him, head tilting down for a quick second. His shoulders deflate, and you watch as a brief flash of what can only be fear rushes through him. "Don't …don't be sorry. I know I was on 46th when you found me. We can work with that."

"Work with–"

He cuts you off,  though not unkindly, mostly just urgent to work through whatever puzzle he’s trying to solve. "Stark Tower is by Grand Central, right? So that's, what? 42nd street? And on the other side of midtown, but not by much."

"That sounds right, yeah," you say with a nod of your head, knowing he can't see it but doing it out of habit anyway. 

"So we're about 4 blocks west, 4 blocks north from the source." He resumes pacing as you watch from your place over by the wall. You can’t help but sag into the solid structure behind you, desperate for something that seems stable in the chaos. Even still, you’re nervous that the wall is offering a false sense of security, nervous that at any moment the building could collapse as increasingly loud noises rain throughout the city. 

He runs a hand down his face, probably unaware that he's smeared just a tiny bit of the blood on his cheek, most likely from a small cut on his palm. Or perhaps he does know and has chosen to not care about something so trivial as his face being dirty. 

"So I think there are really only two options."

Your eyes wander over his form, somehow already aware that you're not going to like what he has to suggest. Sighing, you lean further back against the wall. "And what are they? What are the options?"

"Leave and take our chances out there, maybe try to find somewhere safer, or stay where we at least have some sort of shelter. My natural instinct is to get as far north from here, but it sounds like outside is a mess, and I don't want to necessarily run the risk of being outside and–"

You knew he was going to say something you didn't want to hear.

Unable to listen or focus on the rest of what he's saying, your heart immediately and without warning begins to pound relentlessly in your ears. The thrumming is a raging, dissonant symphony wrecking its way through you, and your lungs seem to sync up with the sound, rapidly expanding and deflating in time with it, but still somehow unable to push air in and out. 

The man is two feet in front of you within an instant, posture betraying his alarm as he listens to you struggle to take a deep breath.

"Woah, hey, calm down," he says, and his hands are on your shoulders before the first syllable leaves his mouth. His lips are tilted in a heavy frown, the look as concerned as it is nervous, and it doesn't help the sudden and rampant anxiety wind down or release you from its bruising hold. "It's fine, it's fine."

"It's not fine," you manage to shriek even as you gasp for breath. "Fuck, I can't…I don't–"

"Deep breath," the man encourages, and you send him a glare, because obviously that's easier said than done. "You're having a panic attack."

"No shit," you wheeze, hands frantically scrambling against the wall behind you for something to hold on to. Nothing is there to grasp, so you blindly reach out in front of you instead. When your fingers finally make contact with something, smooth fabric an extreme juxtaposition to the unevenness of your heart and lungs, you hold on to it for dear life and try to tug it in closer. The man in front of you lets out a strangled noise as something causes him to step forward and further into your space, but he recovers quickly.

"Inhale with me," the man instructs you, moving a hand from your shoulder to just above your breast, and you're too out of it to fight off the sense of borderline indignation at the thought of someone you don't know touching you like that. "In for 5 counts, then out for 8."

You've barely begun trying to match your breathing to his when the words tear themselves from your mouth, the harried declaration of someone absolutely terrified for their life. "I'm not leaving here. Don't make me leave here."

“We might not have a choice tho–”

“I don’t care!”

He pauses, though his hands remain on your shoulder and chest, his face directly in front of yours and streaked with a small amount of blood and dirt, a sharp reminder of a normal day turning to shit. "Okay. Okay, we'll stay."

"And you–"

"I said we'll stay," he says, voice rising above the sound of your gasping breaths, and the words are shockingly gentle for a situation that houses no gentleness of its own. "I'm not leaving you."

"You don't even know me," you all but whine, voice sounding small and insignificant even to your ears. "Why would you–"

"I know you came and tried to help me when everyone else was running by," he tells you, and you'll never be able to describe the way your entire being suddenly linked itself to him in that second, two strangers caught up in a horrifying situation with no choice but to trust and lean on each other as chaos continues to grow outside. "I'll stay with you."

The sentence finally seems to do the trick, and while your breathing still takes a few moments to slow, your chest stops heaving so rapidly. The panic is still there, it's hand still wrapped around your throat, but no longer squeezing. 

When it becomes clear that you've settled down a bit, the man takes a step back, his hands removing themselves from your form, and you quickly realize the thing you had grabbed and held on to for dear life had been his suit jacket. The fabric falls from your fingers as he moves away.

His body near yours had offered a small amount of warmth, though you had been too panicked to recognize it at first, and its sudden removal leaves you feeling chilled. It's late spring, but unlike ten minutes ago, the air around you now feels like it's freezing you from the outside and moving inward quickly. It's the shock, you think, that's slowly leeching the remaining warmth from your system.

The man in front of you doesn't resume pacing, which you had half expected him to do, but instead stays three feet away from you, and you're struck with how he seems to have every ounce of his focus aimed towards you. He can't see you, if his glasses and long-forgotten cane were anything to go by, but it doesn't stop you from feeling like you've never been more exposed in your life.

Having a panic attack in front of someone, no matter the circumstance or reasoning behind it, leaves you feeling a shredded nerve, frayed ends hanging from open skin and on display for everyone to see.

"What's your name?" The question that leaves his mouth is quiet, but despite the roar outside the bookstore, you hear every syllable that falls from his lips. His face is a mixture of light and dark, sunshine filtering in through the windows and pressed against the shadows of the dark, empty bookstore

Just as quietly, echoing the low level of sound he had used for his inquiry, you give it to him, and you watch with something akin to fascination as he mouths it almost silently back to you. You're struck by the fact that you don't think it's ever sounded so…lovely before. 

New York City is in the middle of a goddamn alien invasion, superheroes flying around hundreds of feet above the ground and things exploding left and right, but here you are, completely enraptured by the stranger in front of you who has done nothing more than murmur your name. 

Clearing your throat, ruthlessly attempting to push all thoughts aside that aren't necessarily helpful to the current situation, you open your mouth to ask the same question.

"And you? What's your name?"

"Matthew," he tells you in response, voice sliding over you with a sense of calm you haven't felt since the sky ripped itself apart thousands of feet above you. "My name is Matthew."

#daredevil #matt murdock #human disaster matt murdock #marvel #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil x fem reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction #the avengers

[cuubism]

The Apocalypse Is Nigh!

(AO3)

As a resident of the Dreaming, Matthew didn’t get nightmares anymore. But he thought he might be in one now. A waking nightmare of his own creation.

The thoughts wouldn’t stop swirling. Had he been this neurotic in his first life? Couldn’t have been. Maybe it was a working-for-Dream special.

“Oh no,” he muttered, pacing across the library table, “oh no, oh no, it’s bad, it’s allllll gonna be bad.”

The realization had hit him last week. Hob had gotten sick – just a cold, not that that had comforted Morpheus At All – and on the day he had a fever there had been wildfires in the Dreaming. Wildfires! What the fuck! Constant wildfires and smoke despite the fact that Matthew told Morpheus at least fifty times that it was JUST. A. COLD.

Thus, the revelation: if something truly bad ever happened to Hob, Dream was clearly going to light the whole place up and vanish the fire extinguishers. Not that they had fire extinguishers.

And when Hob died? Cataclysm. The end of all things. Morpheus would implode and take the whole fuckin’ Dreaming with him.

Matthew didn’t actually know Hob that well. He saw him whenever he chased Morpheus down in the waking world. He seemed nice enough, even if there was something a little weird about him in comparison to the incredibly normal guy thing he had going on otherwise. He and Morpheus had known each other for “a long time,” whatever that meant. Oh, and they were obsessed with each other.

That was all Matthew really knew. He had a feeling if he tried to find out any more he would start hearing things he really didn’t want to hear.

One thing Matthew did know: Hob was human. And humans died, as Matthew knew from unfortunately personal experience.

Hence the upcoming apocalypse. The entire existence of the Dreaming was resting on a ticking time bomb.

“Oh this is bad, this is bad, this is bad bad bad bad bad bad bad—”

“Matthew,” Lucienne admonished, gesturing at the book she was trying to read.

“Quit yer yammering!” Mervyn yelled from the other end of the reading room, far less diplomatic.

Matthew kept pacing, claws clacking on the tabletop, and Lucienne sighed, pushing her glasses down to look at him. “What.”

All of the thoughts that had been swirling around Matthew’s head for days came tumbling out. “Okay, so—”

Lucienne sighed, settling in for a ramble.

“—you know how when Morpheus gets upset it rains and storms and shit?”

“I have been here a rather long time, Matthew.”

“Right, and like, it’s so much worse when it’s about Hob, just blizzards and— fuck, he missed one date because he had a ‘diplomatic incident’ and we had fog for weeks! I couldn’t see shit!”

“Yes, it’s always worse when Lord Morpheus is deeply invested in someone,” said Lucienne, with a tone that suggested get to the point. “If anything, it is better with Hob. He’s good at calming him down.”

That was a frightening thought. “So what the fuck is going to happen to us if Hob dies? And I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, obviously I also don’t want Hob to die because, you know, he seems like a good guy and all, but I’d also like our way of life as we know it to not collapse into oblivion! You know what I’m saying?”

Matthew was out of breath after this tirade, but Lucienne’s brow just furrowed. “Why would Hob die?”

“I don’t know! The point is, the Dreaming will most definitely become a black hole ripping everything around it into atoms, including us! I don’t want to become raven spaghetti!”

Lucienne looked back down at her book. “I don’t think you have to worry too much about that, Matthew.”

It was a clear dismissal, which Matthew did not get because wasn’t this a big deal?

“But—”

“Matthew, I promise you, don’t worry about it.”

Matthew was going to worry about it. Actually, Matthew was more worried about it now.

He was going to have to do something to prevent their world from falling into oblivion.

Better get to work.

---

“Alright, listen up, team!” Matthew cawed to the handful of dreams and nightmares gathered around him. “Most of you guys were here before me. What was it like last time Lord Morpheus had a catastrophic relationship failure?”

“Bad,” said a tiny dream in the shape of a mouse.

“Thanks. Very helpful,” Matthew muttered. “Wanna offer any specifics? Did the world end?”

“Yes,” said a ghost-like nightmare, rolling its eyes. “The world ended. This is just a collective hallucination.”

“Technically, it is a collective hallucination,” said another nightmare that looked kind of like… a computer? Matthew hadn’t even been aware Morpheus knew what computers were.

Some of the other dreams snickered.

“Hey!” Matthew squawked. “This is serious. You’re aware he’s dating a human, right? If breakups were bad, how do you think that will end?”

The collected dreams were silent.

“Eternal night!” Matthew yelled. “Doom and gloom! Tartarus in the depths of Hell! Thunder and lightning very very frightening! Do you want that? I don’t!”

“What are we supposed to do, though?” asked the little mouse dream. “Humans always die.”

“I don’t know yet, that’s why we’re here,” said Matthew, flapping his wings in agitation. “Um. Make an ark for when the Dreaming becomes Water World, maybe? Or uh. Clone Hob? No, that’s weird… Maybe we can get him an emotional support cat or something?”

“Mervyn says Hob is already an emotional support human,” whistled a dream that looked like, and was the size of, an entire forest.

“Fuck.”

“If he’s sad,” sang a music-box dream in its childlike voice, “maybe we should cheer him up!”

Matthew snorted. “How are supposed to cheer up Mister Emo King himself?”

The music-box trilled. “Everybody likes music!”

“And puppies!” yapped a Labrador Retriever.

“Sparkles?” said a dream that was just a floating star.

Matthew was feeling extremely dubious about any of these things being able to cheer up the most gothic depressed person he’d ever met, but it was going to have to do.

“Alright, guys,” he announced, clapping his wings, “here’s the plan. You all have to try to make Lord Morpheus as happy as possible so he won’t go fucking berserk when his human dies. But! Be subtle. Don’t let him know what you’re doing. And for the love of all that is holy Do. Not. Mention. The. H. Word.”

“Hell?” said a toddler dream, scratching her nose.

“No!!! Hob!!!” Matthew scrubbed a wing over his beak. “We’re all gonna fucking die.”

--

“Matthew,” said Morpheus, as Matthew flew in a high window in the throne room and landed on the step where Morpheus was sitting. “What… is this? One of the baby dreams gave it to me.”

He was holding a paper cutout heart with a rainbow drawn on it in crayon, and the words, the sun will come out tomorrow! :)

“It’s a heart,” Matthew said. Yeah, this was… not exactly what he was envisioning for this plan. Oh, dear.

Morpheus cast him a derisive look. “I am aware. Why?”

“Because it’s… got two round sides and a point?”

Morpheus sighed, tucking the paper heart inside his coat. “Have I given the dreams reason to believe I am upset with them?” He actually sounded genuinely concerned about it. “Why do they feel the need to pacify me in this way?”

“You think they’re pacifying you?” For all that that… was kind of the idea, it was making Matthew feel bad now. Especially because Lord Morpheus seemed upset at the idea that he might have hurt the dreams unknowingly. As far as Matthew had learned from Lucienne, this was somewhat of a recent development for him, and the last thing Matthew wanted was to… fuck around with his emotional growth, such as it were.

“It is not the first such item I have received recently,” Morpheus said, face still set in a considering frown. “I do not understand what else they might be doing.”

Which was… kind of sad, to be honest, even if he was right. Had he ever gotten a card? Matthew wondered. Just like, a get well soon card when he was feeling down?

Then again, it was possible he would have smited anyone who tried, in the past.

“Maybe they just thought you were sad, and wanted you to be happy?” Matthew suggested, and internally cringed. God, he was just making it worse and worse, letting the lies spin out of control. But bringing up the truth, and thus Hob’s inevitable death, was not an option here.

“Hmm. Perhaps.” He did not sound very convinced. A little disturbed, actually. “Will you find out what they are thinking, Matthew?”

“Yep!” Matthew squeaked. “I’ll keep an eye out!”

Welp. Now he was fucked in two directions.

--

It only got worse from there. Dreams and nightmares started coming to talk to Morpheus in a steady stream, some bringing music or flowers, some starlight or ocean waves, some cards and art pieces. Morpheus became increasingly confused with each gift; Matthew could see it on his face. He didn’t seem upset, per se. Just perplexed.

The only one who was able to get an actual, not-confused smile out of Dream was the Corinthian of all people. His card had a creepy smiley face and the words BE JOYFUL. THAT IS A THREAT in blood red dripping font. Morpheus’s lips quirked up looking at it.

Matthew wanted to scratch the Corinthian’s non-eyes out with his claws. That was not the point goddammit!!

There were even more audiences happening now.

“I love you, Lord Morpheus!” yelled a dream of a bunch of swirling hearts, hovering before Morpheus where he was sitting on the throne room steps.

Morpheus’s brow pinched. “Thank… you,” he said slowly, a question in it.

The hearts glittered and disappeared.

Another little dream, this one a living teddy bear, took its place. “Please, please, Your Highness!” it pleaded. Matthew was starting to feel manipulative for involving the quasi-children in this scheme. “Please don’t destroy the Dreaming!”

So much for being fucking subtle.

Morpheus stared down at the tiny bear. Matthew could practically see the swirls of confusion going around his head. “I assure you, little one, I have no intention of doing so.”

The bear beamed, saluted him, and disappeared.

Morpheus slumped on the stairs, looking exhausted. “Were you able to determine what this is about?” he asked Matthew.

Matthew opened his beak to respond, though there were no words readily available. “Uhhhhhh……”

It was, perhaps, fitting, that he was saved by the very problem he was trying to avert.

“Dream?”

Dream perked up, looking over at Hob, who’d appeared in the center of the throne room. Hob smiled at him, and Dream softened.

“Hob.” He sounded relieved.

Matthew had thought humans weren’t supposed to be able to get into the palace, but Morpheus obviously wasn’t going to kick out his own boyfriend. Or… whatever they were.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, love.” Hob sat beside Morpheus on the stairs. “Something the matter?”

Matthew was pretty sure he was supposed to leave now.

As he winged his way back out of the throne room, he heard Morpheus start to say, “Things have been… strange…”

No doubt about it, this was a right mess. But it also only confirmed Matthew’s point.

What the fuck were they all going to do when Hob died?

--

Morpheus’s resulting good mood had lasted a few days, and then the dreams had arrived in force again carrying cards and flowers and chocolates of all things, and Matthew could see him becoming more confused and concerned by the hour. Clearly, this wasn’t working, but he’d yet to be able to think of anything else.

It was also why he was currently being cornered by Lucienne.

“Matthew,” she admonished, arms crossed. “Why are you messing around with the weather?”

“I don’t control the weather!” Matthew said, guiltily.

“Why are you messing around with Lord Morpheus’s feelings, then? Everything’s been fine for ages and now it’s raining upwards, and I know somehow you are to blame.”

“Listen,” Matthew defended himself in a rush, “we aren’t trying to make him upset, I swear to God— gods— are there gods?— whatever— we’re actually trying to make him less upset.”

Lucienne stared at him as if he was an idiot. “‘We’? And I wasn’t aware he was upset. Actually, he is shockingly not upset, for once. Or was.”

“He’s not upset now,” Matthew said. “I think he’s just confused.”

Lucienne pinched at her brow, squeezing her eyes shut. “Explain.”

“You remember what I said about Lord Morpheus nuking the Dreaming if Hob dies?”

“Not this again—”

“Well, we started, uh. Like. Trying to head that off. Sort of. You know. Convince him that it’ll all be okay, and so on.”

Lucienne groaned. “Matthew, Hob is not going to kill himself! I don’t know why you are so set on this.”

Matthew never said he would kill himself. Jesus Christ. That wasn’t the only way to die.

“We just have to plan for every eventuality,” he said.

“Plan in your head if you must. But I ask you to please refrain from discussing any possibility of Hob dying around Lord Morpheus. You’re going to freak him out.”

“Yeah, I’m not a fucking idiot,” Matthew said, even though she definitely thought he was one.

“And stop whatever scheme this is at once. You are not helping.”

“Someone’s gotta do something!”

“Why don’t we cross that bridge when we come to it, instead of now,” said Lucienne sternly, and walked away.

Truthfully, Matthew wasn’t sure it was possible to unravel this plan now. There were too many people in on it. Oh what a tangled web we weave and so on.

He’d figure it out. Eventually he’d figure it out. The fate of all their lives depended on it.

--

The next time Matthew ran into Hob, he was sitting in the Dreaming library, reading a book. He was also sipping tea, though Matthew had no clue where he had gotten it.

Matthew had been getting increasingly nervous as weeks went by and Lord Morpheus seemed no closer to benefiting from their cheer him up scheme. Might as well get help from the Font of All Dream’s Joy if he could.

“Hey, Hob.” Matthew perched beside him. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Uh, yeah,” Hob said, looking up from his book and casting a light smile on Matthew. “Shoot.”

Matthew didn’t know exactly what Dream saw in Hob. Not because there was anything wrong with Hob! He just seemed like kind of a random choice for The Collective Unconscious to date. Although, from what Matthew had heard, Morpheus’s dating track record was pretty atrocious, so maybe it wasn’t the worst thing if he’d chosen some normal guy who seemed to mostly have his shit together.

Hob did have a certain gravity to him, a settled character that Matthew didn’t recall seeing in anyone he had met in life. That was one unique thing he had picked up on.

“Try not to die anytime soon,” Matthew told him.

Hob laughed, head tipping back. “That’s a good one.”

Matthew stared at him. Why was no one taking this seriously?!? Even Hob wouldn’t take his own death seriously?

“It’s just, you know, I think Lord Morpheus would be pretty devastated if you did,” Matthew explained.

Hob softened, looking at him more gently. “I’m not planning on it, Matthew. I promise you.”

“Okay. Good. Great. Thanks. It’s just. These things aren’t always in our control. Case in point—” Matthew gestured to himself with his wing “—me.”

Hob tilted his head, looking at him strangely. “Do you—?” he started, then cut himself off with a tiny quirk of the lips. “Never mind. Dream says everyone’s been acting weirdly, do you know why?”

“Nope!” Matthew yelled, and high-tailed it out of there. “See you later, Hob!”

He could swear he heard Hob laughing behind him.

--

Somehow, after that, it got worse.

Or better, depending on how one looked at it. Matthew was looking at it as worse, because he was realizing just how far the lie had spread.

They were once again in the throne room, Lord Morpheus standing this time, and looking at a dream that was simply a dark hole in the ground.

Matthew knew the dreams and nightmares were more comprehensive when they were working. That they crafted whole worlds in dreamers’ minds, that they represented moments like a child’s first steps, or feelings like despair. They simply took a more physical form to move about the Dreaming.

This was a dream about grief. Matthew didn’t know how he knew that. Apparently, dream intuition came with the job.

And yet, Morpheus was smiling at it.

“Penthos,” he greeted. “What brings you here?”

This dream was old, Matthew knew in the way he’d sensed the Corinthian was old – although it felt considerably less malicious than him. Morpheus seemed to have some kind of rapport with it in the way he did with most of the very very old dreams. Matthew wondered when he had crafted it, and why.

“My Lord,” replied Penthos, offering some kind of impression of a bow that should have been impossible for a hole. Its voice was hushed, the sound of falling earth. “Only counsel. If I may be so bold.”

Lord Morpheus sat down at its side, crossing his legs. “Go on.”

He seemed to find some measure of comfort or familiarity in the dream’s presence, if the easy expression on his face was any indication. Matthew wondered at it.

“You made me to be darkness, to be soil,” said Penthos in its warm, low voice. “I was the cold of the underground, then. Bottomless. But. I have learned that the earth is also warm. A blanket of organic matter. And life trundles through it, always.”

Matthew didn't know what the fuck kind of counsel that was.

But Lord Morpheus only smiled again. He passed a hand through the essence of the dream, bringing up soil that stained his fingers, crumbled in his palm. “I understand what you mean,” he said. “Thank you.”

Well, as long as he understood it.

The dream bowed again – sort of – and disappeared.

Lord Morpheus let the soil fall between his fingers to the throne room floor. He pulled that first heart-shaped card from within his coat, touching the writing with a light fingertip. “It is kindness,” he declared, as if it was a revelation.

It made Matthew feel kind of bad that it had taken him this long to absorb kindness from this whole thing. Even if, well. It was just a teensy bit fake.

“Seems like it, boss,” he squeaked.

Morpheus hummed, and the throne room rose in temperature until it felt like a comfortable late spring afternoon, instead of the slight chill that had been there before. Matthew was pretty sure he could smell flowers somewhere, and cookies baking or something.

“Kindness,” Lord Morpheus repeated, a soft look in his eyes, before he stood from the floor and tucked the little card back into his coat, then disappeared from the throne room, Matthew didn’t know where to.

Yeah, Matthew was definitely going to hell. He didn’t know how, but he was.

--

Lucienne was banging her head on the library table. “He’s happy,” she wailed. “He feels loved.”

“That’s not bad, though, is it?” said Matthew, hopping nervously. The rainbow shining through the window looked down at him judgmentally.

Lucienne cast him a killer glare. “You manipulated him into it, Matthew!”

“Look,” Matthew said, “do I feel like shit for this? Yeah. One hundred percent. But he’s actually happy, isn’t he? Why don’t we all pretend that was the goal here all along.”

“It was the goal, technically speaking,” said Lucienne, still seeming very cross. “Just not for altruistic reasons.”

“Okay, yeah, granted, but still, I think we should all just pretend it’s his birthday. Or fuckin’… Valentine’s Day. Dream King’s Day? You know, like Mother’s Day, or—”

“Enough,” Lucienne interrupted. “I will keep your secret, Matthew. But I do not like it at all.”

The thing about secrets, though, was they had a tendency to unravel. It seemed inevitable that one of the younger dreams would spill the beans sooner or later.

So Matthew resigned himself to recruiting the one person who was really not supposed to know about this, possibly even more so than Morpheus himself.

Hob Gadling.

--

He found Hob doing work at the table in the New Inn where he and Morpheus often met in the waking world. Matthew landed across from him and said, without preamble, “I fucked up.”

Hob looked up at him, lips twisting in a wry smile. “Is this about me dying?”

“Yeah, it’s— wait how do you know about that? I mean, it’s, uh—”

Hob leaned his head on one hand. “You know, I was going to draw this out longer for my own amusement, but I’m starting to worry it’s heading in an unsavory direction. I can’t die, Matthew.”

“Uh,” said Matthew eloquently. “What.”

“I’m immortal. And, you know, I’m touched that you don’t want Dream to be hurt. But you don’t have to worry about it, not from this angle, anyway.”

“Don’t want him to be hurt,” Matthew echoed, feeling like a complete and utter jerk. “Yep. Exactly. Wait, you’re immortal? How did no one tell me?”

Hob tapped his lip with the end of his pen. “Well, how exactly did you think I even knew Dream, if I was mortal? He was imprisoned since 1916, right up until you and I met.”

“Uh.” Matthew’s brain spun like a stalled-out cursor in his head. “I didn’t think.”

Hob shook his head in amusement.

“How long have you known each other, then?”

“A long time,” said Hob.

“Very descriptive,” Matthew said, and Hob winked.

“Have to preserve some mystery, eh?”

“You’re almost as bad as Dream,” Matthew grumbled, which Hob seemed to take as a compliment. “How did you meet a long time ago, then? I’m very perplexed by how one comes to date Morpheus of all… entities.”

“He strolled up to me in a tavern one night and asked me on a date,” Hob said, a twinkle in his eye.

“Wait,” said Matthew, head spinning. “Morpheus. Our Morpheus. King of Shapes and yadda yadda yadda spoke to you, a stranger, willingly, to ASK YOU ON A DATE?”

“He manages it once in a while,” Hob told him. Matthew got the sense he wasn’t getting the full story here, but even the part he was getting was hard to believe.

“He gets five minutes of normal human interaction per millennium?” he guessed faintly.

Hob smiled, fondness in his eyes. “Oh, it was definitely not normal.”

“Now I gotta know,” said Matthew, and if he were still human-shaped he’d be leaning on his hands, settling in for a story. “What was he like then? Same as now?”

“No.” Whatever first thought flashed across Hob’s face was definitely not safe-for-work, or even safe for Matthew’s admittedly gutter-filth brain. He really really REALLY didn’t wanna know any of those thoughts about his uptight boss. But Hob’s smile remained fond, and he said, “He was cute. Princely little thing. I thought he was very peculiar, or some kind of fey creature, maybe. But the type that you want to trade your soul to, just to look for a little longer. Stuck in my head for a while after that.”

On second thought, maybe Matthew would rather hear the explicit sexual fantasies. “Cute,” he echoed, short-circuiting. “You thought the incarnation of all nightmarish horrors was cute.”

Hob shrugged, took a sip of his beer. “And other things. He’s still cute.”

“And other things,” Matthew guessed.

Hob just winked at him again.

“Welp,” Matthew said. “Thanks, Hob. This has been… very illuminating…” This whole thing was even closer to going wrong six ways to Sunday than Matthew had anticipated. “I’m just gonna go fix some things now before Lord Morpheus—”

“Hob Gadling.”

Yep. Matthew’s death was imminent.

Morpheus strode past him as if he wasn’t even there and crouched by Hob’s side, laying a hand on his knee. His brow was pinched, and he was practically vibrating with concern. “You are unwell? I have heard that…” he trailed off uncertainly, dark eyes tracking over Hob’s face.

Matthew could just picture one of the blabbermouth dreams telling him something like, It’s really sad that Hob’s going to die, Lord Morpheus, and scaring the shit out of him. He was seriously considering flying headfirst into a window.

Hob shot a disapproving glance at Matthew, and Matthew ducked his head.

“I think it was just a misunderstanding, love,” Hob told Morpheus, cradling his cheek. “Some of your subjects—” Matthew was going to owe him one for not implicating him directly in this— “weren’t aware I was immortal. They were concerned.”

“Ah.” Morpheus’s posture eased. “That… explains much. They have been… unusually kind to me, lately.”

Hob’s expression pinched, and Matthew winced. Yeah, it sounded particularly sad when he put it like that. It was fortunate Hob wasn’t aware of the real reasons behind this scheme. Matthew had a feeling he wouldn’t take kindly to them offering Morpheus kindness out of purely— not selfish, exactly, as Matthew really didn’t think there was anything wrong with not wanting the god-being that created your universe to destroy it, okay— but reasons that definitely weren’t focusing on Morpheus’s best interests.

“Do you think they were genuine?” Morpheus asked Hob. “They meant it?”

“‘Course they did,” Hob said firmly, though he had no way of knowing. And as Matthew thought about it, he realized Hob was probably right. He’d bet if he asked the dreams if, even without the imminent destruction of their world, they wanted Morpheus to be happy, they’d say yes. They did care. Morpheus just… hadn’t given them much occasion to show it, in the past. “They want to see you happy. Just like I do.”

Morpheus smiled. “Perhaps not just like you do.”

Hob grinned, a rakish sort of thing. “Yeah, maybe not just like.”

Ick. Matthew had to get out of here.

He spread his wings to do so, and Lord Morpheus seemed to finally realize he was there. He turned to Matthew. “Matthew. You came to ensure Hob’s well-being. I thank you.”

“Yep,” said Matthew, only hopping nervously a little, “one hundred percent. Definitely. Definitely why I was here. Nooooo problem. I’ll just head back to the Dreaming now and leave you guys to it.”

He flew up to the nearest window ledge, perching there for a moment. Down below, Morpheus sat beside Hob and pulled a few of the cards from within his coat. He showed them to Hob, reverence in the way he held the simple paper cutouts. “Look.”

Yeah, Matthew couldn’t bring himself to ruin this for him. He was going to have to make Dream King’s Day an annual holiday to pave over this fuckup.

He left for the Dreaming as Hob kissed Morpheus on the forehead, holding his hands gently over the cards.

--

The Corinthian was lounging on the throne room steps, sucking on a lollipop, when Matthew swooped back in. Matthew was pretty sure he was not supposed to be there.

“Did he like my card?” he asked idly as Matthew landed in front of him. “I could send flowers, too, if you want.”

“Your help was neither wanted or appreciated,” Matthew informed him.

The Corinthian grinned. “He liked it, didn’t he.”

Matthew didn’t bother responding, just puffed up his feathers in indignation.

“I enjoyed this scheme,” the Corinthian informed him, sticking the lollipop into his cheek to talk around it. “Fun. Maniacal. Welcome to the life of crime, Matthew.”

“Listen here, asshole,” Matthew snapped. “I’ve been in the life of crime! I’m supposed to be turning a corner and I won’t be sucked back in, capische? As far as we’re all concerned, we all just want Morpheus to be happy, okay?”

“Oh, sure, sure. It’s just, it would be so easy to pull the rug out from under him, you know? Show him how self-interested all that love was…”

“I don’t know, because we’re not doing that!” Matthew said. “Besides, you’re one to talk.”

The lollipop cracked between the Corinthian’s teeth. His voice was the crackle of just-hardened candy. “I assure you. My love is not about protecting the Dreaming. I would welcome the cataclysm.”

Matthew shivered. “Creep. You better not make things worse.”

“Your definition of worse is not the same as mine, my friend,” said the Corinthian.

Before Matthew could retort, we aren’t friends, the Corinthian tossed the lollipop stick off somewhere and stood, stretching.

“Let me know next time you want to do something like this, I’d love to be more involved,” he said, and strode off down the hall.

“THERE WON’T BE A NEXT TIME!” Matthew yelled at his retreating back, then groaned, covering his head with his wings in aggravation.

Why was he getting the sense there’d be a whole new apocalypse to head off sooner rather than later? The place was just rife with them.

Welp. Better get to work on it.

#the utter crack of this #the sandman #dreamling #matthew the raven #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing

[marybeatriceofmodena]

Trading Site Reopening and Gifting Spree!

So. After weeks of work (*insert alpaca scream here*), my trading site is open for trading! To celebrate, I decided to gift a few audios and videos from Phantom of the Opera, a few audios from Les Misérables, two cast recordings from Elisabeth das Musical, and a cast recording for Sweeney Todd. Enjoy!

(If you're the master of a listed audio/video, please don't hesitate to reach out to me if you want me to remove your stuff from the list.)

POTO audios

Michael Crawford, Rebecca Caine (alt.), Steve Barton October 10, 1987; London Michael Crawford and Steve Barton's last in London. Soundboard, very good quality, and this one is complete. And Rebecca Caine sounds amazing in it (as she always does). https://www.mediafire.com/file/pttrjfqzb84gatm/POTO_West_End_10-10-1987_-_Crawford%252C_Caine%252C_Barton.rar/file Steve Barton, Rebecca Luker, Gary Lindemenn (u/s),  Marilyn Caskey, Jeff Keller, George Lee Andrews, Leila Martin September 26, 1990; Broadway Soundboard audio. Because Steve Barton was almost as good of a Phantom as he was as Raoul, and Rebecca Luker is a legend (RIP). https://www.mediafire.com/file/xc9ywojtdesptje/POTO_Broadway_26-09-1990_-_Barton%252C_Luker%252C_Lindemenn.rar/file Davis Gaines, Tracy Shayne, Matthew R. Jones, George Lee Andrews, Jeff Keller, Lelia Martin October 5, 1996; Broadway Davis Gaines's last performance. Because Davis Gaines has one of the best voices I've heard in the role. https://www.mediafire.com/file/w1ybvl8v6e4ex6r/POTO_Broadway_05-01-1996_-_Gaines%252C_Shayne%252C_Little.rar/file Brad Little, Lisa Vroman, Tim Martin Gleason, Kim Stengel, DC Anderson, David Cryer, Patti  Davidson-Gorbea, Kate Wray, Jimmy Smagula December 5, 2003; Los Angeles Lisa Vroman’s second-to-last performance as Christine. Both she and Brad Little are glorious vocal-wise. https://www.mediafire.com/file/muavx4ocvs62eav/POTO_US_Tour_05-12-2003_-_Little%252C_Vroman%252C_Gleason.rar/file Anthony Warlow, Julie Goodwin, John Bowles, Andrea Creighton, John O'May, Derek Taylor, Jackie Rees, Nadia Komazec, David Rogers-Smith August 15, 2007; Melbourne Not the biggest fan of Anthony Warlow acting-wise, but he does not disappoint on the vocals - and neither does Julie Goodwin. https://www.mediafire.com/file/3pm0ksips30n3it/POTO_Melbourne_15-08-2007_-_Warlow%252C_Goodwin%252C_Bowles.rar/file John Owen-Jones, Katie Hall, Simon Bailey, Angela M. Caesar, Andy Hockley, Simon Green, Elizabeth Mars, Hannah Cadec, Vincent Pirillo September 29, 2012; Edinburgh Not the biggest fan of the restaged tour, but... Katie Hall's "Tears of HAAAAAATE" is pretty great. And John Owen-Jones! https://www.mediafire.com/file/00vtvziy172lpkv/POTO_UK_Tour_29-09-2012_-_Owen-Jones%252C_Hall%252C_Bailey.rar/file Hugh Panaro, Elizabeth Welch (u/s), Jeremy Hays March 3, 2014; Broadway Great trio overall, but Elizabeth Welch is a standout (to me at least). https://www.mediafire.com/file/1hc1ozi96vok5pd/POTO_Broadway_03-03-2014_-_Panaro%252C_Welch%252C_Hays.rar/file Dmitry Ermak, Tamara Kotova, Eugeny Zaytsev, Irina Samoylova, Alexei Bobrov, Yuri Mazihin, Elena Charkviani, Valeria Migalina, Rustim Bahtiyarov (u/s) July 16, 2015; Moscow A lovely production that I miss - Tamara Kotova in particular is great. https://www.mediafire.com/file/w56tx5d7fkh4kse/POTO_Moscow_16-07-2015_-_Ermak%252C_Kotova%252C_Zaytsev.rar/file John Owen-Jones, Celinde Schoenmaker, Nadim Naaman, Megan Llewellyn, Michael Matus, Christopher Dickens, Jacinta Mulcahy, Alicia Beck, John Ellis September 7, 2015; London First performance of the 2015-2016 cast. https://www.mediafire.com/file/5hswf44ldku6ngm/POTO_West_End_07-09-2015_-_Owen-Jones%252C_Schoenmaker%252C_Naaman.rar/file Peter Jöback, Emmi Christensson, Anton Zetterholm, Karolina Andresson, Glenn Kjellberg, Rolf Lydhal, Sanna Martin, Tehilla Blad, Sindre Postholm March 19, 2017; Stockholm Given Christine is from Sweden, it's only fair to include the recent Stockholm production. https://www.mediafire.com/file/zkl38t9388gcvh7/POTO_Sweden_2017-03-19_PJ_EC_AZ.wav/file Tim Howar, Amy Manford, Jeremy Taylor, Kimberly Blake, Ross Dawes, Alan Vicary, Jacinta Mulcahy, Georgia Ware, Paul Ettore Tabone September 7, 2019; London This one is different from the one listed as NFT (so don't get mad at me, haha). Last performance for Amy Manford in the West End production. https://www.mediafire.com/file/vf60ie1er18rkon/POTO_West_End_07-09-2019_-_Howar%252C_Manford%252C_Taylor.rar/file Ben Crawford, Meghan Picerno, John Riddle October 26, 2019 Because we all love a Christine with opera chops. https://www.mediafire.com/file/9gji0khgfoazjqd/POTO_Broadway_26-10-2019_-_Crawford%252C_Picerno%252C_Riddle.rar/file 

POTO videos

Earl Carpenter, Rachel Barrell, David Shannon, Wendy Ferguson, David Lawrence (u/s), Sam Hiller, Emily Harvey (u/s), Heidi Ann O'Brien, Rohan Tickell January 2006 VOB format.  If you want to see Earl in London right now but can't... this video is the best quality overall that features him, and Rachel Barrell is a fantastic Christine - one of my favorites in the role. https://mega.nz/folder/u09GQKyR#gjNHj4Letd9YInTsuLowjA Gary Mauer, Elizabeth Southard, Jim Weitzer, Kim Stengel, John Jellison, DC Anderson, Patti Davidson-Gorbea, Kate Wray, John Whitney April 6, 2006; Dallas VOB format.  For my Eristine moots (I see you!): Gary Mauer and Elizabeth Southard were (and as far as I know, still are) married while performing as the Phantom and Christine, and you thought Ramin and Sierra's chemistry was off the charts, think again. https://mega.nz/folder/PtExxS5A#D4yyf2g_lXoN-cIDPkMU2Q Anthony Crivello, Kristi Holden, Andrew Ragone, Geena Jeffries Mattox, John Leslie Wolfe, Lawson Skala, Tina Walsh, Brianne Kelly Morgan, Larry Wayne Morbitt August 8, 2008; Las Vegas VOB format. This is the Las Vegas Spectacular production, which is abriged compared to the original but totally worth seeing. If you want to understand why I love Meg Giry so much, Brianne Kelly Morgan is one of the best I've ever seen in the role. Also, if you’re meh about Raoul... with Andrew Ragone, think again. He’s one of the most Superman/Clark Kent Raouls I’ve seen. And I really like Kristi Holden’s Leroux-esque Christine too.  https://mega.nz/folder/Sh1zxSAB#twtXau8Y8pd_L9tMQLa4Mg Jeremy Stolle (u/s), Samantha Hill, Greg Mills (u/s), Michele McConnell, Tim Jerome, Richard Poole (u/s), Ellen Harvey, Kara Klein, Christian Sebek March 9, 2013 VOB format. Missing part of Act 1 (‘Stranger Than You Dreamt It’ to Il Muto), but otherwise complete. This is one of the best trios I've seen on Broadway, and Samantha Hill is just a fantastic Christine overall. https://mega.nz/folder/y1slyJRD#OP1Tp5Cj_fMk9LbAWJMqAA Tomas Ambt Kofod, Sibylle Glosted, Christian Lund, Louise Fribo, Carl Christian Rasmussen, Sebastian Harris, Elisabeth Halling, Imogen-Lilly Ash, Rasmus Jupin March 2019; Copenhagen VOB format. This one is more recent, but given it's been uploaded on YouTube, I guess it's fine to gift it (again, if you’re the master and you want me to remove this, please let me know).This one has one of the best casts ever caught on tape. Seriously. Everyone in this is a star. https://mega.nz/folder/q40hTagI#Zui14MWo-F2YSQ0gNdaL6Q



Les Mis Audios

Colm Wilkinson, Roger Allam, Patti LuPone, Alun Armstrong, Sue Jane Tanner, Michael Ball, Frances Ruffele, Rebecca Caine, David Burt 1985; London Preview at the Barbican Centre. This is interesting since it includes Cosette's song "I Saw Him Once", which has been cut later.  https://www.mediafire.com/file/jbedqiemuk9qnd1/Les_Mis_West_End_1985_-_Wilkinson%252C_Allam.rar/file Symphonic recording (1989)  Gary Morris, Philip Quast, Debra Byrne, Michael Ball, Tracy Shayne, Kaho Shimada, Anthony Warlow, Barry James, Gay Soper https://www.mediafire.com/file/n7gp30jcpnjfkf7/Les_Miserables_Symphonic_Recording.rar/file Kyle Jean-Baptiste (u/s), Earl Carpenter, Erika Henningsen, Chris McCarrell, Samantha Hill, Brennyn Lark, Max Quinlan (u/s), Gavin Lee, Rachel Izen August 13, 2015; Broadway For Kyle Jean-Baptiste, who was an amazing performer gone way too soon. RIP. https://www.mediafire.com/file/fzj2qubunkrrfhc/Les_Mis_Broadway_13-08-2015_-_Jean-Baptiste%252C_Carpenter.rar/file John Owen-Jones, Michael Ball, Carrie Hope Fletcher, Craig Mather (u/s), Lily Kerhoas, Shan Ako, Bradley Jaden, Matt Lucas, Katy Secombe, Earl Carpenter October 16, 2019; London All-star concert! https://www.mediafire.com/file/nh28zdry93vhry2/Les_Mis_London_Concert_16-10-2019_-_Owen-Jones%252C_Ball.rar/file

Elisabeth das Musical

Original Cast Recording (1992) Pia Douwes, Uwe Kroeger, Ethan Freeman, Andreas Bieber, Viktor Gernot, Else Ludwig https://www.mediafire.com/file/fagi9ctooeq2y11/Elisabeth-Original_German_Cast.rar/file Vienna revival cast recording (2006)  Maya Hakvoort, Mate Kamaras, Serkan Kaya, André Bauer, Fritz Schmid, Else Ludwig https://www.mediafire.com/file/7wpqbotp8oszzz3/Elisabeth_-_2006_Vienna_Cast.rar/file



Sweeney Todd

2000 Concert Cast Recording George Hearn, Patti LuPone, Davis Gaines, Heidi Grant Murphy, Paul Plishka, Audra McDonald, Standford Olsen, Neil Patrick Harris, John Aler Pretty sure this isn't on Spotify, which is a real shame given its cast. So enjoy! EDIT: Someone pointed out to me that the recording is incomplete - probably a result of the Great Hardware Crash of 2016, so until I get the full version, this will probably stay incomplete. Sorry about that! https://www.mediafire.com/file/ywoiqe5bnlzr7bs/Sweeney_Todd_2000_New_York_Concert_Cast.rar/file

#phantom of the opera #les miserables #elisabeth das musical #sweeney todd #too many people to tag lol #audio gift #video gift #musical trading

[gabessquishytum]

not into horses but i think dream should wear the equestrian clothes. the tight fitted pants, tailored coat, the tall leather boots…if he’s actually riding a horse and maybe moving his hips a little too much for hob to handle, well, that’s just too bad for hob, isn’t it? (also really like the idea of instead of hob actually pulling dream’s pants down, he just rips a hole in them to get to dreams cunt as quickly as he can before he cums himself to death. he’s a good boyfriend, he’ll buy him a new pair)

Amajsjfjjghm snooty posh equestrian Dream and his stable yard worker boyfriend Hob....... Hob is just trying to WORK and muck out the stables but Dream keeps waltzing in and out in his tight little outfit, tapping his riding crop against his thigh (He doesn't even use the crop, he has it specifically to torture Hob with).

Matthew the horse doesn't get to go out for his daily exercise that day because Hob lost his cool, tumbled Dream into a pile of hay and fucked him right there. His leggings were torn beyond repair and Dream had to hobble out in a far too big pair of Hob’s work trousers.

Dream makes a show of being a little snob, but he loves getting fucked in the open air and feeling the fresh air on his cunt. Hob is so good to him every time, how can he resist? He loves riding. And that includes riding Hob’s massive cock, too.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #trans dream

[drdt-headcanons]

one for each of the cast

Teruko Tawaki: will probably end up being somebody’s baby mama and living off that child support after she actually put up the child for adoption but pretends it’s alive for the money

Xander Matthews: I feel like he’s definitely the type to see someone cry and immediately try to make them laugh or cheer them up, and he will do anything from dad jokes to peek-a-boo to see the person smile again.

Min Jeung: She loves Brooklyn, Spanish and Sicilian accents. She really loves all accents in general and can understand almost anybody if any accent, but those are her favorites.

Arei Nageishi: massive Hello Kitty/Sanrio girl. I mean this girl has the stickers on her backpack, folders, dorm room, plushies, etc. she also definitely runs one of those hello kitty toxic female meme accounts that have like 25k+ followers.

David Chiem: There will be times before events where David just does not have the energy to shower so he will just drown himself in perfume and no one tells him that it smells like shit, but it does the trick for him.

Charles Cuevas: This man knows Spanish, but he can not roll his r’s. I’m telling you this man probably had Hispanic parents who were dedicated to learning English and never taught him Spanish, or they had been in the USA for generations. Everyone he knows rips on him for this.

Whit Young: This man drinks up reality TV. I’m telling you he probably watches every single Real Housewives and TLC for hours with just himself, comfy pajamas and a bowl of buttered popcorn.

Eden Tobisa: her parents used to buy her the Lego friends sets and she’d always throw away all of the men in the sets and build each of the sets so her women would have new spaces to have their love-triangle romance drama.

Ace Markey: he definitely lives on some sort of secluded farm and he’s just part of one big happy family, but he always feels he’s the odd one out because of his cowardice, and he was the only one who always got scolded about behavior and grades, so he feels excluded from his siblings.

Veronika Grebenischikova: before she got into horror she used to be a scene/skater kid and she had tons of hair extensions and jewelry made out of Monster tabs. She now is more into gothic subcultures and music.

Rose Lacroix: At one point her and her family were living in their car, so before Rose got into forgery, she would sit for hours until her moms got home and would either beg for money or rob people so they could afford rent for an apartment.

Levi Fontana: Levi’s older brothers are similarly built to him except even taller and even buffer, but they also acted much more tough and got into things and places he shouldn’t have. He learned his bad behavior from them and his parents who had mental issues and could not hold a steady job.

Hu Jing: Her family is always her number one priority but even though her parents are very kind and supportive, she always feels like she needs to lie to them and keep up being a perfectionist and a perfect balance of Chinese for her parents and American for her classmates.

Nico Hakobyan: loves the cottagecore aesthetic and even though they like baggy clothes with the tags cut off most of the time, if they had to ever dress formal for smth, they’d wear a cottsgecore dress.

Arturo Giles: definitely is a drag queen in his spare time or is trans female. He’s constantly up to date with everything celebrity including movies, music and social media, and is the most knowledgeable of people on pop culture at any moment.

J Rosales: her and her brother used to pretend to swap genders when they were younger and they are both transgender and afraid to come out to each other, but the swapping genders game is a core memory

Thanks for reading :)

:)

#drdt #teruko tawaki #xander matthews #min jeung #arei nageishi #david chiem #charles cuevas #whit young #eden tobisa #ace markey #veronika grebenshchikova #rose lacroix #levi fontana #hu jing #nico hakobyan #arturo giles #j moreno #j rosales #angsty and fluffy drdt headcanons

[bropunzeling]

Since you say you love to chatter, I hope you don't mind being asked a few questions :)

what's a scene/detail/piece of dialogue etc that you really wanted to include in [fic of your choice], but you couldn't find room for? here's your chance!

if you had to write an epilogue (or sequel!) to any of your fics (that you are NOT currently planning on writing an epilogue for), which would it be and what would happen?

for the ships you're currently writing about (and have written for in general), is there usually one character you like more than the other? (will you tell us who? has it ever changed?)

what's a ship/fic idea you want to read about but don't want to write yourself? maybe somebody will be inspired!

share anything you'd like about a wip!

aw thank you anon! especially for the opportunity to procrastinate on working on my current wip :) answers under the cut:

some dialogue that i ultimately cut from the spain scene in marriage bets where they were having tapas (originally there was going to be ALL this flirting over the tapas and then it went on too long so i got straight to the questions):

"You're not going to eat that?" "Hey, I tried it." "You're so American." "It's the texture--" "Such a wimp." "I'm sure plenty of people aren't into eating octopus." "Uh-huh."

if i had to write an epilogue or sequel:

oh gosh. i think a lot about the one where marriage bets matthew and leon get married for real for real, with suits and their families present and everything. it WOULD involve matthew finally telling brady that he was not, in fact, the first tkachuk to get married. the other one i think about is, of course, rat baby in a cup. she reigns eternal.

is there a character in a ship that i like more than the other?

i think it's hard for me to enjoy a ship where i don't actually like one side of it! that said, there are definitely characters where i find it much easier to get into their headspace than others. i've probably said this before, but leon is such a straight line thinker and so easy for me to get that for a long time it was hard for me to try and write anything from matthew pov because his is a little more twisty-turny. they're both equally complex! but it requires different skills to get the effect i want, which is normally the pov character not having a clue what the other one is thinking. it's a lot easier to have leon misreading matthew than the other way around. except now of course i've written a lot from matthew pov so finding my way back to leon pov has been a challenge.

a ship/fic i want to read but don't want to write:

god what DON'T i want to read. lmao. i would love for someone to write a good achy jamie/trevor post-trade fic. i would love for someone to write a long slow friends-to-lovers matthew/sasha fic! i would REALLY love a brady/quinn future fic. especially if it features divorced brady. i feel like future fic especially is a trope/concept that i just feel less comfortable writing so whenever someone else writes it i eat it up with a spoon :)

share anything you like about a wip:

well the wip is going SO SLOW and is VERY HARD for me because im challenging myself by writing a slow burn and cant rely on sex scenes to do the chemistry work for me this time rip rip. but here is a wee snippet:

“Draisaitl. Tkachuk,” Coach says, gesturing at the starting line.

Leon gets ready, bracing his stick over his thighs. He’s already raced Jordan and Gourde—beat Jordan, beat Gourde—but he hasn’t had to go against Tkachuk yet. Hasn’t had to do much of anything with Tkachuk yet. Yesterday they were at the other end of the line from each other, or opposite sides of the rink. It had lulled Leon into a false sense of security.

Now, though, Tkachuk is watching him with that way that he has, like—

One time, while making kebabs, Leon got a splinter from the bamboo skewer under his nail. It hurt like a bitch, had him cursing for five minutes until Jenna told him to stop squirming and tweezed it out. The splinter had been miniscule, almost impossible to see, and Leon had wondered how something so tiny could be so aggravating and painful, would make him do anything just to get it to stop.

That’s how it feels when Tkachuk looks at him. How it’s always felt. Like his gaze is digging in under Leon’s skin, until Leon’s entire body is red and inflamed. It makes Leon want to scratch at his shoulders, his chest, until he can finally tear Tkachuk out.

#ask #thank u anon! very sweet to let me ramble to you

[itzaltwins]

I recently got back from Argylle and AHHHHHH I had a huge smile on my face for like 70% of the movie.

It was dumb (affectionate) at some points, but that's what made it fun. I feel like Matthew Vaughn understands that movies shouldn't always be realistic or have to make sense. Just enjoy what's in front of you.

More thoughts under the cut (includes spoilers, duh):

Maybe I'm oblivious, but I didn't foresee many of the twists. Though to be fair, like most things I just watch and see what happens...

The humour was perfect for me. It was the kinda shit that makes you chuckle as you shake your head, but not burst out laughing (although I'm not averse to that type of humour).

Elly is literally me and every fan fic writer. Except we're not secret agents, unfortunately.

Whenever I see Bryan Cranston, I only see the dad from MItM. I never watched Breaking Bad.

No Henry Cavill and John Cena kiss? Missed opportunity. SMH

Ahem I'm super interested in how Vaughn will tie together the three franchises, because we have actors that have played various characters (except some of their characters are dead).

As for the production of the movie, Brad Allen (RIP) being on there was really nice to see.

Now, I've never met the man, but fucking Carlos Peres (AKA Bedivere) in the first part of the credits as executive producer, made me so proud??? If you didn't know (please note I just like to look at the credits), in Kingsman TSS, he was simply a Kingsman Knight. Then Kingsman TGC, a Kingsman Knight and production consultant. The King's Man, a co-producer. Vaughn's friends/colleagues are lucky fuckers.

I didn't stay til the end of the credits (the employees were eyeing me to leave so they could clean), but I think it's really nice they include the number of jobs supported and mention the hard work put into making such a production, at least for Kingsman 2 and The King's Man.

I know critics take things way too seriously and I will never ever listen to them but this quote makes me laugh: "Argylle [...] ultimately wears out its welcome with a convoluted plot and overlong runtime." (Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Argylle) Man, if they think that was convoluted, they haven't seen the DrakeNier universe, Final Fantasy, Kingdom Hearts, etc.

Okay, I've rambled enough for now. If you read everything, thank you. (Why would you?)

#argylle #kingsman #self post

[mamirhodessxox]

Hey There Delilah (Part 10)

Warning ⚠️: everything that will be mentioned in this chapter will include things as mentions of verbally/emotional/physically abusive relationships are all things I have personally experienced! If you do not feel comfortable reading this chapter of HTD it will be understandable.

Cody Rhodes x Fem OC!Reader

(Delilah Jones)

Storyline: Delilah was born and raised by the beach in L.A and grew up in a home where her parents expected her to go to Harvard & become a well known woman who marry’s a man who is a lawyer after high school. But that’s not what she wanted, She always wanted to own a boutique/flower shop & she did, once her parents discovered she wouldn’t attend college they left her to fend for herself but allowed her little sister Kinsley to visit or sleep over whenever, Her little sister always had an eye for WWE but Delilah never understood why but little did either of them know one of Delilah’s customers would become well acquainted. (Creds to @alyyaanna for helping me w the storyline)

Contents: Toxic parents, Angst, Fluff, Smut in later chapters, Based in May 2023, Alcohol, Violence, Corruption Kink, Size Kink, Daddy Kink, Crying Kink, Hand Kink, Praise Kink, Fingering, Smutty smut, Mentions of a Custody Battle.

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @niknakbucks92 @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

2016 Los Angeles California.

Delilah had just turned 16 along with her bestfriend Mira, the two attended a private school together & practically did just about everything with each other, told each other almost everything, except Delilah, often she had the habit of keeping things that should be hidden as secrets, She had just gotten into a relationship with her new boyfriend Matthew who was 17, he was everything as a person that her parents wanted her marry with, Mira hadn’t liked him ever because of how he would seem to be faking a personality to seem like he was the world’s best high-school lover when behind closed doors he was the worst.

He objectified Delilah in ways that made her feel uncomfortable, he often pressured her into doing things she wouldn’t feel comfortable in doing but this one specific time he got angry she didn’t do one of those things, He would corner her in a bathroom no matter where they were & would berate her when she wouldn’t have sex with him because of her dedication to not losing her virginity, “Matthew- I can’t! I—I’m saving myself you knew thi-“ She felt a harsh smack across her face which made her stumble back a little bit and hold her face “Saving yourself my fucking ass! I bet you’re running around like a fucking slut screwing half of the fucking school.” He scolded at her & ripped off her uniform coat in pure anger before grabbing her by the hair and throwing her across the floor of the bathroom “Your useless you know that? Useless! Your honestly lucky to have someone like me Delilah because no other man is going to want to put up this ‘Saving myself for the right moment’ bullshit” he spat on her as she covered her face quickly while her hair was disheveled, “You know how selfish that is??! It’s fucking selfish! You can’t think about anybody else, it’s always what Delilah wants isn’t it?! Well let me tell you very fucking clearly now that I’m all you have I’m the only person that will actually love you and put up with your bullshit because nobody else will, you will NEVER find a man like me and no other man on this planet will want to love something as useless and worthless and fucking stupid like you.” She shook her head fearfully trying to deny all he said but unfortunately that got more of a reaction out of him.

While he didn’t take her virginity he still became violent towards her and made her feel as if that was all she was good for, someone that anybody could take their anger out on, for weeks on end she was shut down, She didn’t know who she could go to, finally she had went to her parents but they ultimately shut her down with ‘Well what do you expect us to do??’ Mira eventually found out because of rumors going around and once Delilah finally opened up she held her in her arms as the girl cried & shook, Mira sat and cleaned up her face and helped cover up bruises that were displayed around her arms and legs including a black eye that Matthew ended up giving her “I need you to know that you are way more than what he makes you out to be Delilah, what he did was a horrible thing and you should’ve never experienced that, You are worth all of the diamonds on earth & more, there is absolutely nothing wrong with saving yourself for whatever reason it is.” She reassured Delilah until Matthew ushered into the women’s restroom “Did you make that goddamn report on me? To the headmaster!?” He shouted while Mira quickly had Delilah get behind her “Yes I did, and it was fucking deserved you sick bastard.” He scoffed “If you put my future at risk You will pay & I’ll make damn sure of it.” He hissed before leaving with panic.

Delilah had a lot of emotional baggage, she wasn’t a sensitive girl, she was deeply wounded internally & never experienced what true love felt like despite her always being a loving girl thinking about people before she thought about herself, she lacked parents that cared & never knew the difference between love or anger. Most things Matthew told her after getting what he wanted was “I love you so much Delilah, I do these things for your own good.” And she unfortunately believed it because she thought he was right. It was for her own good when in reality it was flat out abusive.

Mira sat at the dinner table in Delilah’s house as she visited for the night & heard her parents laughing over 2 weeks ago where Delilah trying to tell them about what had happened with Matthew. Mira grew silent and dropped her fork on the plate & glared “Your joking right? You’re actually fucking joking right? He hurt your fucking daughter and you blew her off and you’re LAUGHING about it? You guys must be the worst fucking parents of America and I truly hope you get what you two sick people deserve in life.” She shouted while Delilah meekly sat there before Mira had her leave the house with her. Deep down Mira knew she would do everything in her power to protect Lilah once she realized she was easy to manipulate and hurt because of her kindness.

November 4th 2023 (Present time)

Delilah sat on the bed tying her shoes while Cody stood in the bathroom getting dressed for the day, since halloween he took notice of her standoff-ish behavior & worried there was something she wasn’t telling him because of how much her walls were up at the moment. Pharaoh scampered into the room and huffed flopping his snout against her ankle while she hummed “Relax Phar’ I’m taking you out now.” She mumbled to the husky before grabbing his leash from Cody’s bedside table that he usually had ready to take Pharaoh on morning jogs. Cody helped put on Pharaohs harness after leaving the bathroom & Lilah stood up hyping their now shared dog up for his walk. Cody nervously cleared his throat & finally spoke up “uh- Before you go, I just need you to know that if there’s anything you haven’t told me yet, I need you to tell me because you’re not your usual you sweetheart and it worries me.” She put on a small smile while shaking her head in protest before walking Pharaoh out of the bedroom and house while Cody watched from the window & eventually called Mira.

“How may I possibly entertain you Cody” she spoke through the phone while he hummed clearly not amused “Delilah’s acting strange after her & I had a private Moment, I know there’s something she isn’t telling me and I know you know it.” Mira stayed silent for a moment as her hand gripped her phone “Cody I don’t even know if it’s my place to tell you what it is.” Cody furrowed his face in slight panic as he listened to her over the phone “She’s not pregnant or anything rig-“ Mira let out a loud cackle through his speakers on the phone “FUCK no? Not that I know of at-least, Look I’ll tell you what she’s not telling you but you have to tell me what you did to fuck up first got it?” Cody sighed pinching the bridge of his nose “Fine, On Halloween during the party she & I were having a moment snd something inside of me sort of snapped, I said some really mean things to her & called her some mean things but then I noticed it upset her and I apologized big time and I’m still making it up to her and since then her walls have been up & she’s more quiet than usual.” Somehow Mira already had a hunch on what he might have said to her because of Delilah’s overall response that is connected to her Highschool relationship.

“Alright I won’t go into to much detail because that’s for Delilah to share, but, When me & Delilah were in high-school in 2016 she had her first boyfriend and his name was Matthew, he was a fucking asshole, when she was saving herself for the right time he freaked on her, called her some names and became violent, he was a horrible person for her and unfortunately, I wish I could tell you everything Cody I do, but it’s not my trauma either. It’s hers. Just be gentle with her.” Mira hung up on Cody while he sat there biting the inside if his cheek before shaking his head and standing up making the bed before he heard the front door open and close followed by Delilah praising pharaoh while he barked in response before she made her way back upstairs and huffed as she took off her sneakers “It’s a little chilly outside!” Cody hummed while walking over towards her and gently sitting her down on the bed. Delilah was a little confused and tilted her head about to speak but he shook his head “Delilah I need you to tell me what you’re hiding from me, I already know about Matthew, somewhat, not a lot, but either way I need you to open up to me baby, I need you to trust me and tell me so I know how I can help you because you haven’t been your usual self since Halloween and I hate that it was my fault.”

Delilah sighed and looked away from a moment but he turned her attention back to his eyes while he raised his eyebrows looking for some sort of response which was her nodding and scooting back “I dated this guy in Highschool, his name was Matthew & at first a lot of things were going smikth and my parents really liked him & wanted me to marry him but eventually he became a horrible person, I told him i was saving my virginity for the right moment and at first he understood but when I kept rejecting on having sex with him. He became angry, it became so bad that one day he cornered me at school got a little violent & had told me things like No other person would put up with me the way he does or whatever he was yelling about called me a slut a couple of times, told me he got violent out of love because it’s what I needed out of discipline, Said I was to stupid for a man to love me the way he does, I told my parents but they blew me off so Mira had took the situation up to the headmaster of the private school we attended & it resulted in him getting expelled.” Cody listened thoroughly & paid a lot of attention before letting out a hefty sigh and pushing away ang stray hairs displayed on her face “Sweetheart I wish you would’ve told me sooner otherwise I wouldn’t have jumped out of your comfort zone and go overboard the way I did” Delilah shrugged her shoulders and played with his hair a bit “Why don’t we make a safe-word? For you okay, just incase I get out of line over anything or if you’re too overwhelmed or overstimulated, hm?” Delilah smiled shyly and nodded with agreement

“Daisy.” He hummed at her response and nodded “Daisy hm? Okay sweetheart Daisy it is, And just for the record sweetheart everything he said to you isn’t true whatsoever ever, I love you more than every single thing in the universe combined & he is absolutely wrong on everything, You’re a goddamn genius , you’re one of the most intelligent girls I know Delilah & He’s a goddamn moron for loosing a treasure like you but I’m more than grateful that he did because you’re safe, you wormed your way into my life & I’m beyond grateful for you.” She smiled softly at his words and kissed the tip of his nose “I love you Cody.” He smiled and shook his head “I love you more angel.”

Since then Cody & Delilah resolved things and grew even closer than usual, Cody was sitting in the kitchen with his laptop on the counter while staring at flight tickets to go up into Aspen Colorado as a Holiday vacation in mid December since he & Mira were planning something special for Delilah. Kinsley got home from school after taking the bus and Lilah was upstairs watching a movie taking a nap, Cody heard Kinsleys footsteps and grinned as he grabbed the star shaped sandwich he made for her as a snack from the fridge “Is that you monkey?” She giggled snd tossed her book bag onto a chair “Cody!!” He grinned crouching down quickly to do their little secret handshake followed by a hug “How was school today huh? Learn anything new?” Kinsley shrugged as she took her sandwich “I learned about how crystals are formed by the speed of their growth! Slow growing crystals become super duper big! & fast growing crystals become super tiny!” Cody gasped in disbelief “Look at you being a little scientist! If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re better than bill nye himself.”

She grinned while nodding her head and scampering off upstairs while Cody was being called by Mira “Your favorite person ever how may I possibly assist you today?” Mira scoffed over the phone “Shut-up Cody, anyway, did you get the ring?” He smiled “Yeah I got it, It’s well hidden where she can’t find it, I already rented out the cabin for us all to stay at, same with the little resort place up in the snow, everything id settled I’m just about to buy your guys’ flight tickets now.” She hummed in approval over the speakers “Perfect, Logan & I just left a dress shop & got her a long feathery sleeved dress followed with heels in her size that I’ll surprise her with.” Cody heard Logan complain about wanting to leave in the background “Your still with that asshole?” Mira huffed in embarrassment “Yeah well..Can’t really back out just yet.” He nodded as if she were to see “I guess your right, it’s a little entertaining watching Randy bitch about it everyday, anyways, I’m going to hang up now so I can wake up Lilah, I’ll call you later.” With that he hung up and flopped his phone on the counter and shut his laptop.

Cody quietly went upstairs into their shared bedroom and smiled as he saw Lilah snuggling with pharaoh under the blankets while the movie had just ended, Cody climbed his way onto the bed and ran his hand down her arm softly “Baby..c’mon Angel It’s time to wake up.” He smiled at her huffs and grunts in protest but he played with her hair “You need to get up baby it’s already 3:40 if you stay asleep you’re gonna pull an all Nighter again by mistake.” She huffed stirring a bit until she forced herself to sit up “There’s my girl.” He teased before giving her a gentle kiss & fixing her ponytail “5 more minu-“ He shook his head chuckling “None of that, c’mon now you don’t wanna sleep away your whole day now do you?” She huffed shaking her head while she smiled sleepily as he helped her get up out of bed while Pharaoh was already moving his way into Kinsley’s room to finish up his own puppy nap. Delilah stretched while yawning and held onto Cody’s hand “How about tonight we make dinner, watch a movie, and just relax alright?” She smiled and the idea and nodded her head “I liked that idea.”

For the rest of the night all three of them had made dinner together, laughed together & relaxed, Cody did what he could do best to be supportive for Delilah as she was still putting her walls back down again realizing he wasn’t anything like Matthew, she was safe with Cody and he intended to keep it that way & even give her something more proper in return very soon.

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

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