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tastesousweet · 4 months

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⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iv) - pt 1 pt 2 p3

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : maybe the only way matt and y/n can stand being around each other is to fuck each other

warnings : weed, alcohol/drinking, smut (slightly rough but not very?? pretty filthy tho), profanity

mickey speaks : rlly hate how the smut turned out but maybe its jus me being a perfectionist + i changed a lot of shit ab UCLA (mostly grad dates) to fit into my narrative okay, i knowwww. only sorta proofread bc ive been busy, enjoy <3

THIS IS PART FOUR GO READ THE FIRST THREE PARTS DUHH

"FUCK!"

the turn of spring to summer in LA is typically the most eventful time of year. more parties are thrown than ever before in celebration of the season change, the boom of tourism begins, and of course school years are ending.

you celebrated your college graduation from UCLA only a week ago, with a large dinner at your favorite seafood restaurant and your friends all excitedly in attendance. matt was also there but you let it be known you invited him only so you wouldn’t feel bad (though he claims he wouldn’t have cared if you did or not).

you also shared an excruciating breakfast that same morning with your parents (both suffocating you with their traditional views that reminded you exactly why you moved hours away from them to attend school). you were cautious to wear items of clothing that would hide your tattoo and kept any conversations on the topic of your schooling rather than outside interests (not that they even care to ask) out of fear you may expose your routine of going out to party most weekends.

your brother was also at breakfast and you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep a positive attitude for you. you immediately noticed his wet face when you gave him a full hug after your ceremony, which made you cry, mostly out of missing him and love.

"it's not that bad!" andrea looks at you in the mirror as she continues to give herself soft curls.

“how the fuck did i manage to make this one downturned and this one up,” you reply in frustration while you point to either wing of eyeliner on your grimaced face.

andrea giggles and aims the stick of the curling iron at makeup remover lying in the sink, “just get a q-tip and fix it, cariño.” (“honey”)

you move around her to grab a q-tip from a small jar in the medicine cabinet before following her instructions, getting extra close to the mirror.

remi barges in the bathroom dressed in a mini skirt and a detailed patterned top, “hi nick!” she exclaims to her phone screen, placing it down on the counter while untwisting her lipgloss.

you can see nick’s awkward face as he sits in the car (making his camera jump at any dip or bump in the road), “sooo…this better be erin’s bathroom ceiling im staring at.”

“and if i say it’s not?” remi giggles to herself before rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss further.

“i’d say what the fuck are you guys still doing at home?! y/n’s our mutual friend that even got us into this bitch and i’m not just walking into some sorority house acting like i know any of these fucking people.”

“and we didn’t go to college!” chris exclaims to add to the point.

“yeah, we didn’t go to fuckin’ college!” nicks adds before his face falters, “the fuck does that have to do with it?”

chris’ voice is low as he explains himself, “you know…like, obviously we aren’t gonna know shit about some delta kappa omega?”

nick comedically pauses and the three of you watch the screen to see him staring at chris with no facial expression, “…okay chris. anyway, get your asses over here ASAP. we need you.”

“okay, we don’t need them. you’re being dramatic just chill out,” matt huffs from the driver’s seat.

“hey, we’re leaving soon i promise, nick.” andrea assures and remi picks her phone off of the counter to show the girl.

"thanks, but we'll be fine. erin told me where to find her, let's not get ridiculous." matt continues dismissing the conversation he finds so unnecessary.

you hold yourself back from saying anything but you can’t help but wonder just how close erin has got to matt. and how she managed to hold any conversations without pissing him off (no way a little lap dance dismissed matt’s entire personality). she hasn’t been too explicit about anything happening between them, only cluing you all in through her frequent mentions of him.

chris’ loud voice beams, “yeah, you ladies take your time! nick gimme the phone-” chris’ smiley face takes up remi’s screen now that the phone has shifted, “you know, who the fuck are we to tell any of you to rush?!” he sees andrea in view (with a form fitting dress and warm toned makeup) and can’t help the rush of words that decide to spill from his mouth, “andreayoulookfineasshitbytheway- and i just think, uh,” he giggles at his poor recovery and at andrea shaking her head and biting the side of her mouth (her very andrea way of blushing). “um, yeah, fuck, what was i sayin’?” he turns to matt.

nick laughs from the backseat at chris’ comment (he thinks it’s generally embarrassing opposed to andrea who finds herself embarrassingly flattered by him).

“nothing important, say your goodbyes now, we just pulled up.” matt gives his short advice and takes the phone. “see you, bye,” he hangs up and chris punches his arm immediately.

“dudeee!” chris groans. matt doesn’t give any reaction besides handing nick his phone back without looking at him.

“we’ll see them in less than an hour, get your shit.” matt tilts his head out the door as he opens it and exits the car.

“he’s so annoying.” chris huffs and turns to nick as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“i don’t know him, he’s your fuckin’ brother.” nick shrugs and acts clueless. chris laughs into his seat and nick knows making chris laugh makes him feel way better than just shitting on matt would’ve.

matt opens his door again, “get your gigglin’ asses out here!”

౨ৎ

matt's suprised he's lasted this long at this party without a fucking drink.

he's seen just about every partygoer trope there is - drunk guys and "you need to sober up" girlfriends, overly excited drunks far too impressed by each new song that plays, the loner type who strictly speak within their circle even when wasted, et cetera - and has managed to lose everyone he knows in this crowd, leaving him alone with DD responsibilities in a sorority house bouncing with excitement in honor of their “graduating senior sisters.”

speaking of, he’s only spoken to erin once all night. he did see you with your friends briefly, early in the night before you were swooped away with nick to be introduced to some guy he just met.

so like all times matt is bitchless and bored, he decides to smoke. he reaches in his jacket pocket for the joint he rolled before the party, in case of emergency.

but just as he raises the lighter towards his mouth he's interrupted by an airy, high pitched voice, “um, excuse me!” matt looks over, “yeah, you. sorry, you can't have drugs in the house.” the blonde frowns.

“it’s weed…” matt clarifies, taking the joint from between his lips.

“uh huh! and that is prohibited, outside please,” she guides her hand, drink in tow, towards a sliding door behind her.

he's not gonna nitpick with some chick about the umbrella term of 'drugs' or debate whether the alcohol she's drinking lies under it, so he just nods his head “cool,” and removes himself from his spot against the wall to walk around her and out of the door.

౨ৎ

you slump against a nearby couch as you recover from a hour of dancing alongside your best friends. remi sits next to you and leans her head on your shoulder as you both look around at the room full of people (a shade of deep fuchsia covers the room from multiple LED lights around the large house).

when you feel your own blinks become slower you shrug your shoulder and look at remi's profile, "we should probably get up rem, or else we'll fall asleep. this couch is way too comfy." you sigh.

"mmm... yeah. kinda want another drink but," she turns to look behind you both, "the kitchen's all the way over there..."

"now i know you two aren't tapping out of my party already?!"

you both look over to see erin dressed in a small glittered party dress, making her shine as she walks closer. "erin, where the fuck have you been?!" you excitedly rise from the couch and give her a hug.

"it's actually so fucking hard to host a graduation party, especially with my sorority sisters- they've had me doing all these traditions and shit, i haven't had time to talk to like anyone!" she explains to both you and remi.

"well, at least you look good, bitch!" remi adds and holds erins hand to make her twirl in her dress.

"thank you," she blushes and looks down then back to you two, "have either of you seen the triplets?"

"i think nick's off with some dude and chris is 'teaching' drea how to play beer pong..." you trail off and look to remi, "have you seen matt at all...?"

"not recently, i don't think so?" she looks over to erin.

"oh okay, that's fine. just wanna make sure they're having funnn." she draws her words out as she plays with the ends of her hair and smiles. you and remi can both tell she something bothers her more than she's leading on.

"e, come with us to grab drinks," you hold both remi and erin's hands and guide them with you to the kitchen.

౨ৎ

matt hadn't realized how hard he was staring at you dancing until chris came up to him with wild eyes and a loud laugh, making him snap away from whatever trance he was in.

"you okay, matt? your brain's not buzzkillin' right?"

matt straightens himself to no longer lean on the wall, "no."

"you sure?"

"yes?"

"maybe you should say fuck DD and have a drink or two, might give you somethin' to smileee aboutttt!" chris laughs.

"don't be stupid, chris. 'm not driving drunk."

"obviously we'd get an uber, matt." he emphasizes with a 'duh' attitude. "i get funnier when drunk, not stupid."

"right," matt offers a light laugh.

he throws a hand over matt's shoulder as they both face the crowd of dancing people, "god damn andrea's fucking hot- swear she's been feelin' me all night," chris hypes himself up then brings his red solo cup towards his mouth.

matt's eyes shift from you to andrea, who's limbs move just as freely and smile is just as wide. "that's good, that's good," matt nods. "she's nice."

"she's everything, bro." chris shakes his head in awe, "but, uh, do you have any cash on you?" matt turns his head, eyes showing his annoyance. "i'll pay you back, you know that matt. just like $20 to get me in the poker game outside."

"chris-"

"please, matt," he begs.

matt lets a heavy sigh out through his nose as he rustles in his pocket for his wallet. "you're my favorite now," chris kisses matt's hand quickly before he's heading off with a crumpled twenty in hand.

matt's eyes follow him until he's fully gone, then he's turning to look for you again. only this time it's not a challenge at all, you're already on your way.

you pull at the bottom of your little black dress (which rode up some due to your eccentric dancing) as you approach. "hi, matttt," you sing. it's known to most of your friends that when you're drunk your emotions are ten times stronger, and right now you're feeling extra carefree.

matt can tell you've definitely had a few drinks, so he tries to keep the conversation civil. "hey," he cracks a smile.

"are you not having fun?" you ask. you've wondered ever since you recognized him across the room.

"sure, i'm having fun." he shrugs, keeping eye contact with you.

you notice his all black outfit and blue jean jacket, "we kinda match," you look down at yourself then towards him, "i had a jean jacket too...it's um, in a closet somewhere i think."

"then you must have great style," matt jokes.

"oh i think that was clear before i happened to match you," you joke making use of your hands while speaking.

"mhm, sure..."

"so, do you wanna dance with us?" you smile in question.

"absolutely not," matt laughs and brings a fist to his mouth.

your smile drops, "right, you watch us dance but laugh at the thought of participating...?" you move your eyes to each side, "'cause that makes sense, matthew."

"no, it's not like that. you go have fun, i'm just not one to make myself look stupid for fun." he shrugs.

"so we...look stupid?" you squint your eyes in amusement knowing matt is trying to be such a hard ass for no reason.

"you said it," he laughs.

now you're a bit annoyed. "so you go back to being a loser all alone right here in this corner, and i'll go back to this stupid party and enjoy myself."

"alright," he rolls his eyes, "go ahead and be dramatic about it."

"will do," you sigh and begin to walk over to your friends, presenting matt with the gift of your middle finger directed towards him behind your back.

and matt thinks he just might take chris' advice on having a drink or two.

౨ৎ

you hate that matt is still on your mind.

and it irritates the fuck out of you that you're now giddy seeing him for a third time tonight. but to give yourself the benefit of the doubt, you've gotten to the point where you're so buzzed you've become horny.

you came outside on the hunt for remi, who told you she was looking for erin, and ended up finding all three triplets at a makeshift poker table full of rowdy men.

and as some wise person must have said: when horny, find someone to fuck.

"y/n!! whatcha doin'?" nick notices you and gives you a wide grin offering you a chair near the table.

"hey, nick. 'm sorry i can't really stay i just, um, need to borrow matt."

matt. who isn't paying much attention to anything around him now that the four shots he took settled. with his phone in one hand and a beer resting in his other, he's bound to be startled when you come behind him and whisper in his ear, "heyyy, sorry to bother but can we talk?"

he blinks and looks behind him, "y/n?!"

"come," you motion with your fingers and begin to walk away as he rubs his fingers over his eyes and starts to stand up.

"yeah?" he asks getting closer to you.

you wordlessly bring him back into the heated house and navigate until you find a mostly empty hallway (all while he keeps annoying you by repeatedly asking what you want).

his back falls against the wall, "way to confuse the fuck outta me. what's good?" the hand you were once holding dives into his front pocket out of habit and the other continues to hold his beer.

"i just need you to take me home."

"y/n, i'm no longer driving myself home, let alone you," he shakes his head.

"right, i figured, smartass."

"glad those comprehension skills still work. grab your phone and order an uber, 'm sure you dont need my help."

"matt. i want you to come home with me." you sigh in defeat.

"oh shit." matt dead pans. "ohhh shit." his eyes widen before a a laugh breaks through his closed mouth, "sunshine...you're tryna' fuck?" he looks up at you from his spot against the wall.

you scramble a lie to make yourself look less pathetic, "you're a last resort trust me," you roll your eyes. this was way better in your drunken mind than reality.

"still made the list though!" matt jokes, "wow. who knew you were so romantic? bringing me all the way over here just to tell me you wanna fuck. and at your place? how sweet," he can't help but poke fun.

"fuck you," you say under your breath.

"well only because you asked so kindly!" he goes to wrap his arms around you before you push him back against the wall.

"are you done?"

"i guess." he shrugs.

"so will you or not," you try to keep your confidence and not allow matt's comments to embarrass you. "it's fine if not, just-"

"yeah," matt's smirk slowly grows. "meet me out front, i'll have to go lie to my brothers but i can be quick."

౨ৎ

"why am i shocked you're actually here?" you ask as you shut the car door and look over to matt, phone screen reflected on his face.

the car begins to speed out of the neighborhood as he turns off his phone and shoves it in his jacket pocket, "let's be serious for one second," he reaches over and pulls at the end of your dress, "you wear this and look like that and you think i'd say no? i'd be crazy. i mean, yeah, your fuckin' mouth can irritate me to pieces but-"

"actually just shut up, matt" you remove your head from leaning against the window and move across the middle seat to kiss him. you pull apart fairly quickly though, "how are you less mean yet extra annoying when drunk? i shoulda went with my last last resort." you shake your head.

matt grumbles before leaning to kiss you again.

౨ৎ

after a car ride full of teasing and rushed kisses, you both made it to your apartment complex.

you fumble with your purse as you search for your house keys, distracted by matt’s lips moving over your neck. you pinch your eyes shut in frustration, “mattt, give me a second,” you nudge your shoulder into him to get him off of you.

“let me see it,” he grumbles grabbing your purse and finding your keys with ease, moving his arms around you and unlocking the door.

“you make it look so easy,” you breathe and open the door with your body pressed against it.

matt lets go of you and follows you inside.

you lean a hand on the wall next to the door to quickly remove your heeled shoes and matt watches you with dopey eyes and glossy, excessively bitten lips before deciding to take his shoes off as well.

you walk closer to him once he’s done, your dress riding up your legs and barely covering your ass at this point. you look up to him and softly ask, “do you need anything to drink?”

he brings his right hand up to hold your face and moves close to your lips, “you know i don’t want a fucking drink.”

“you don’t?" your pout is genuine even though you're teasing him. he knows you're sweet enough to really get him a drink if he desired. he draws his thumb across your slumped lip before you speak again, "well…what do you want, matt?” you move your hands to the waist of his jeans, tracing the outer seam.

he pinches his eyes shut and moves his head to lean on your shoulder, he’s not gonna be the one to say he wants to fuck you. you want to fuck him, that's why he's here. so he’s definitely not begging you to touch him.

“hmm…?” you hum as your hands go to either side of his face, bringing him back to look at you. he looks into your eyes as he drops his hand from your jaw. you notice the pink splotches that still linger on his face, recovering from the heat of the party atmosphere and now the heat of this moment.

matt looks down at your lips, “you know what i want, and you want it too.” his hands travel down and push the front of your mini dress up as he feels over your underwear.

you mouth hangs open and you move your hips against him softly. begging him with your actions rather than your words. and those tend to speak the loudest.

"so what do you want, y/n?" he asks quietly without breaking eye contact.

"matt-" you breathe, wanting him to do anything more than a juvenile rub over your underwear.

he licks and sucks your neck as your hands capture his hair. “where do you want me?” he sounds out of breath when he asks so close to your ear. he finally moves his fingers past the waistband of your panties to nudge your clit as he taunts, “hmm…? you want me right here?”

you whine, “we can’t right here."

"why not?" he breathes against you, annoyed.

"i can't have you fuck me in the foyer i share with my best friend,” you just know andrea would be pissed if either of your body’s fluids made it onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.

he retracts his hand, “then why are we just standing around? show me to your room,” his voice is rough.

“why don’t you try to guess which is my room is mine?” you smile with your faces far too close together.

“why don’t you be a good host and give me a tour?” he retorts.

“that’s not fun,” you push.

he growls and lifts you up, walking past the living room and into a hallway that splits in two (all while you incessantly kiss his jaw and upper neck). he huffs at his ridiculous situation and reaches for the first door he sees. a toilet sits at the end of the room and a cluttered counter to the left.

“bathroom,” you mutter with a giggle.

matt responds with a snipped tone, “mhm yeah i’ve seen one before.”

his grip on your waist grows harsher as he opens and closes a multitude of doors with you commentating over.

he finally makes it to your room with you mocking him in a cheer of celebration as you climb off of him and turn on the dim light near your bedside.

matt would normally take in the room around him but his headspace is far too sexually frustrated to give a shit about how you decorate your room.

he opts to stand near the door and eye you from afar, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you.

you notice this (as well as the fact that matt hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said about minding the mess of clothes piled in the corner from your struggle to pick an outfit earlier) and slowly walk back towards him. the soft yellow light blurs behind you and highlights the edges of your figure in a mouthwateringly pretty way that makes matt antsy.

when you’re close enough matt somehow pulls you closer. his nose nudges against yours messily before capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. your hands feel for the end of his shirt and move underneath it to touch his warm lower stomach. you can feel how his body expands and curls as he breathes through your unwavering kiss.

despite wanting to keep the tension high, you break apart from matt to tease a bit, “can i touch you?” his face is scrunched absentmindedly from his desire and his lower lip finds its place tucked behind his front teeth when he rushes a nod to you in encouragement.

you push him away from you softly, “take your jacket off.” you move to your bed and after the sound of a jacket hitting the floor, you find him right on your feet, chasing your kiss and heat.

he leans over you and immediately finds your lips once more. now that he’s on top of you he finds himself wanting to get you to say how bad you want him.

his hands meet your thighs and move your dress as they run up to your rib cage before moving back down to squeeze your thighs.

matt’s surprised when you’re the one to involve your tongue in the mix, making the kiss sloppy yet intimate. your hand then crawls into his hair to keep him close.

but he doesn’t let you hold him for long, taking your hand from his hair and laying it against the bed, raising himself above you. “what do you want sweetheart?” he lowers his other hand towards your stomach, grazing your tattooed hip gently before feeling your underwear.

“you,” you respond in defeat and desperation.

“oh? and you want me to…?”

“matt. touch me,” you take your free hand and guide his own under the waistband of your underwear.

“but i thought you wanted to touch me? now you’re just bein’ selfish.” he keeps his hand close to your pussy, running his index finger across your lips kindly.

you look at him with droopy eyes, “please."

so matt lets you be selfish. he selfishly wants to taste you after all. he lowers himself to your face and captures your bottom lip once more, sucking then biting down slightly before moving his face further down your body slowly. your dress maintains its rippled shape in a bunch right where your tits lie.

he makes his way to your tattooed lower hip, still a little impressed with his execution of the cartoon (as it's not his typical style) and showing this with a kiss, then a light lick (making you shudder the tiniest bit). as he furthers, he finds the space on the bed is not enough, opting for the plush, carpeted floor.

matt sits on the back of his calves to watch how your body reacts when he pulls your panties down, only he misses the satisfied smile curling onto your face when you move your head to the the side.

he shifts your pliable legs to give him a better view of your heat's entirety, spreading your folds gently as he gathers spit in his mouth and spills it onto your clit. his eyes flicker from your face (choking on a moan) to the bead of saliva mixing with your natural slick that has him on edge. “that feel good?” he asks and moves his fingers up and down your pussy slowly, bumping your clit but not lingering long enough.

“yes...so good, matt,” you encourage in a broken whimper.

he hums, placing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. you moan out lowly and you can't help but close your legs around matt's head. he normally would lay them flat again and tease you but he finds the pressure and dizziness turns him on so much more. his hands rest at your hips, moving up and down and your legs cradle his head as he works his mouth and tongue on you.

"mm fuck," you reach above your head to grip the soft colored comforter in your manicured hands. matt never falters, his licks only become needier when he adds two of his fingers to curl inside of you.

he continues his restless actions until the moment right before you have registered you were about to cum. then, he's immediately removing himself and standing up, wiping his face with one hand as the other hurries to unbuckle his chunky black belt.

you grumble and fix yourself to sit up and look at him, now discarding the belt into his own growing pile of clothes on your floor. he begins to unbutton his pants when he hears you whine and pull at his ego to get him to come back. “how fucking typical. should’ve known i'd barely get one orgasm, let alone two out if this.”

matt immediately stops unzipping his jeans and comes closer to stand above you, his face clearly annoyed. he gives your pussy a light slap, making you whimper. “keep talking shit, brat.” he grits through his teeth and slaps it again making a filthily wet sound that has you moaning.

he doesn't stop at that; he begins to harshly rub your clit back and forth without mercy, keeping eye contact as his face hovers your own, before moving his fingers inside of you while his thumb continues to work your clit. continuous loud moans crowd your room before you eventually meet your high with rolled eyes and shaking legs.

matt quickly pulls his fingers out and wipes them against your thigh leaving it sticky and shiny like golden honey. finally able to unzip and remove his jeans and boxers, allowing his needy cock to be free from the tightness. you move to the edge of your bed when you hear the small clap against his stomach, eager to find matt as ready for you as you are for him.

he watches from above as you admire his length while your fingers ghost over his sensitive dick. you then bring your mouth closer, dribbling spit over his tip and wrapping a fist around him. you look up into his hooded eyes for approval then take him in your mouth and jerk the rest of him with your hand.

he groans and bites his pink and undoubtedly swollen bottom lip as you suck and hollow your cheeks around him, even taking him all the way at some points. and though this feels fucking amazing, he wants nothing more than to be inside of you right now.

he holds the base of your neck then squeezes lightly to get you to pull away, spit erotically traveling with your lips. “can i fuck you now?” his voice is perfectly hushed yet demanding in tone.

you nod and matt wipes your lips, “good, take that dress off.” he removes his own shirt and reaches for a spare condom he’d put in his pocket before leaving the house (for no particular reason). he turns back to you, with your breasts now on display for him, ripping the package with his teeth.

you motion for him to give it to you and he complies. somehow even when you’re literally putting a condom over his dick, you’re a sweetheart about it: kissing it once he’s fully covered and turning yourself over onto all fours without him having to ask. because you understand yourself and have the confidence to choose the position you’d like to be fucked in. and matt would be lying if he said that isn't so fucking attractive.

he smirks as he adjusts himself on the bed, feeling out every inch of your full ass before moving his hands to squeeze your waist. you lay your head against the plush comforter, arching yourself further in anticipation. “matt,” you blubber out a whine.

he takes the base of his cock and guides it through your folds, “mhm…i know.” he sees your face twist in amusement, “oh, you like that, huh?”

you lick your lips and nod your head before matt finally pushes himself fully inside of you. his hips start in slow, rhythmic patterns before becoming uncontrolled and incomplete- and the same goes for your moans.

matt's almost hypnotized by the way your ass moves in reaction to his thrusts (slowing himself down just to watch in detail and only speeding up when you start to get really antsy over it).

as you both get sloppier and chase your highs, matt decides to flip you over and tuck your legs into your chest for a different angle. there's something especially needy in the way he rubs at your clit and makes a mess of your tits with his mouth that drives you insane with pleasure.

"my- shit!" you moan harshly under matt.

"hold it," he huffs.

"can't," you whimper, "just-"

"shhh," matt captures your lips as he quickens his pace, feeling his own climax approaching. after a few moments you're breaking the kiss to roll your head away, exposing your neck as you uncontrollably cum around matt.

"fuck," he moans, stilling his movements to maximize his release.

he takes a moment to breathe before removing himself from you, immediately fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your weak clit (just to be annoying) until you push him away and tell him to fuck off.

he lets out a chuckle as he removes the condom and discards it appropriately. when he comes back over to you you're on your side with your own arm wrapped around your waist in comfort.

matt sits next to you, "that good for you?"

you just nod and bite back a smile.

matt hums in pride, running a hand over your exposed ass before leaning down to kiss and suck a dark hickey into the skin.

"c'mere," you tug his hand.

he complies and you turn to open your legs for him once more, grinding a bit once the two of you begin to kiss again.

you reach between the two of you, taking matt's half-hard dick in your hand and stroking. as you pick up your pace he whines and begins to thrust into your hand in need.

until you hear your front door open. to which you push matt off of you and on to the floor, hearing him groan as you snap at him to get in your closet.

you crawl under your comforter while matt hurries to gather his things from your floor and get into your closet.

you hear andrea stumble a little making her way through the house and you catch your breath just as she knocks on your door and cracks it to check if you're sleeping.

"y/n, you awake?" she slurs a whisper.

"yes. hi drea, how'd you get home?"

she opens the door a little further but continues to lean on the door frame, "how did you get home? was lookin' all over like 'where's my girl?' everyone was usless though," she sighs.

"sorry, i took an uber," you giggle, "i got sleepy, i guess."

"mhm...you and me both." she yawns expectedly.

"you should get some sleep, we can talk in the morning, okay?" you smile from your bed.

andrea nods, "'kay, love you." she leaves with a sleepy smile.

"love you," you reply as she shuts the door again.

you let out a relieved breath, glad she hadn't suggested a sleepover like you'd both normally do when drunk.

matt walks out of your closet, almost fully clothed, buckling his belt again, "gave me fucking rug burn, thanks."

you move a hand over your face, "sorry- i just don't need anyone seeing you here."

"'s fine," he shrugs and takes a seat on your bed, "how long is it gonna take her to sleep so i can leave?"

"less than five minutes," you pick at one of your acrylic nails, seeing matt place his jacket on your bed makes you almost laugh to yourself, "shit, i left my jacket at erin's."

matt grins to himself and adds, "shit, i left my car at erin's," with a shake of his head.

you both laugh softly before it fizzles.

matt's back is towards you as he opens his phone to order another uber home. and now the silence brings you back into reality and suddenly you're feeling sick to your stomach about erin.

it takes you a little but you eventually mumble towards his back, "matt you didn’t fuck erin, right?"

"no," his voice sounds distracted and like he wouldn't care even if he did.

you focus on a loose thread in your comforter that you pick at, "...kay. not that it matters 'cause this was only for tonight. but i know i would probably die from guilt knowing i fucked with you after she did."

he turns to see you genuinely out of it and seeming to shelter yourself under your blanket. he leans towards you and rubs your arm softly before whispering, "don't make it a big fucking deal, nothing's different." his stare actually makes you feel far worse but you nod as if you agree anyway.

he stands up and puts his jacket on, “you sleep well okay, sunny?”

"shut the fuck up, you don't care about how i sleep," you whisper.

he breathes a laugh and reaches for your door.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x black!reader

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fooled-around-and-fell · 5 months

Note

heyyo, wanted to request an imagine about jensen. maybe they’re best friends who met on the boys or supernatural, she’s been confiding with him about this dude she seeing but jensens kind of into her and is jealous so he doesn’t rlly wanna talk about it, they have some drinks and he says something like “i just don’t think he’s right for you” and ends with smut and happy ending? if that’s okay with you 🤍

a/n: hi! thank you for requesting 🩵 love your idea, but i'm gonna tweak it so that it's dean instead of jensen. hope that's alright! anyway, enjoy love! and i'm so sorry it took me a while!

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

genre: fluff

warnings: smut, 18+ only, mdni, unprotected sex (don't be a hog, cover your log), oral f receiving, dean is huge.

Masterlist

-----

dean is enjoying his night alone. sam's out with a girl, you're out with a guy... alright, he's not enjoying his night as much as he'd like to.

mainly because you left for your date 4 hours ago and you're still not back. it was supposed to be a lunch date, and you're still out. what's taking you so long?

dean grits his teeth. he's being jealous again.

to be completely honest, his perfect night would be a night spent with you in his arms, cuddled in his bed while an episode of your favorite tv show played. but of course, you're both nothing but friends so that's not happening.

not long after, he hears the front door open and rushes to see if it's you. it is, but he wonders why you look glum.

"hey, you're back early." he doesn't actually think it's early.

you sigh as you take your heels off, dropping them on the floor and lying down on the couch.

"didn't go well?"

you groan in response.

dean's heart melts a little. he scooches you over so you're lying down between his legs, resting your weight on his chest.

"wanna talk about it?"

you sigh once again, uncovering your eyes from your arm. "it was actually not that bad. not great, but not terrible."

dean's silent. "what? you want me to get into the details?"

he shrugs, "if you want to. not too detailed though."

"well, not much happened anyway." you say, "we had a long lunch, then we were back at his place making out, and i don't know, the way he was kissing me was a little weird. it was very stiff-"

"sweetheart, it's meant to be stiff-"

"you know that's not what i mean." you hit his arm.

he laughs. "sorry, continue?"

"as i was saying," you emphasize, "his tongue was like jabbing my mouth and for some reason he kept bumping his teeth on mine-- it was turning me off so i left."

dean laughs again, "wow. i'm.. so sorry."

"oh shut up, it's not like you've never had a bad date before."

"that's not what i'm saying. well sort of." he says smugly. "i'm saying i'm sorry you encountered a bad kisser. never happened to me before."

you roll your eyes. "yeah, sure."

"i'm serious." he says.

"dean, you're working all the time, you've never even been with that many women -- i think?"

"i'm a natural, what can i say?"

you scoff and turn your body to look at him, laughing and looking so smug. and looking so good in that shirt that accentuates his muscles in just the right way.

you'd be lying if you said you don't have a crush on dean... to say the least. you've liked him for ages, maybe even love him, but you're almost 100% sure you're not his type.

but now it seems like he's dropping hints and flirting with you, so... might as well take your chances right?

"alright, should we put it to the test then?" you ask.

"huh?"

you pull yourself closer to dean by gripping his shirt and press your lips to his. he's taken aback at first, but slowly moves his lips with yours and circles his arms around you, easing you into his hold.

you've been dreaming about kissing his lips for a long time. he also always looks and smells so good around the house it's annoying.

what's also annoying is that he wasn't lying when he said he's a good kisser. he's taking your breath away and you feel like melting in his arms.

his plush, soft lips, his gentle but firm tongue teasing yours, the bites he leaves on your lips, tugging and definitely bruising.

you try to push him away to take a breath. "come back here," but he just grabs the back of your neck to kiss you again.

a moan escapes you when he readjusts your position so you're now sitting on his lap, and you gasp when you feel something poking your ass.

"sorry," dean chuckles and readjusts himself. he has a smug look on his face, especially when he sees how disheveled you are right now.

"so," he starts, "how did i do?"

you gulp and look away, not sure how to answer him.

he cups your chin so you'll look at him and say, "do you want me to continue?"

you nod slowly.

"words, sweetheart. i need to hear you say it."

you bite your already swollen lip. "i... i want you, dean. i need you. p-please."

he smiles, kissing you again before picking you up to take you to his room. "good girl."

you didn't think dean's words would affect you that much, but it just did. you're clenching around nothing.

dean's having a hard time believing this is happening himself, but the smell of your shampoo, your perfume, the taste of your lips... fuck he's in love.

the door to his room slams shut and he lays you down on the bed.

"sure you want this?" he asks.

"i want you," you say more firmly this time. "only if you feel the same."

"sweetheart," he chuckles, "i've wanted you for a long, long time now."

you roll your eyes at him despite the blush creeping up your cheeks.

"i'm serious." he says, pulling you closer by the waist, his hands roaming around your back until he finds the zipper. "since the moment i saw you."

he zips your dress down and you let out a shaky breath when his hands touch your naked skin.

"i'm.. i'm pretty sure i was covered in dirt and blood when we first met."

he hums, pulling your dress down and tracing his hands closer to your breasts. he's leaving kisses and bites along your neck before licking your ear. "nothing sexier than woman who knows how to fight for herself."

you gasp when he cups your breast, pinching and twirling your nipple while he drowns your moans in his kisses.

you're gripping his shirt, fumbling with the buttons before finally reaching his skin, feeling his toned body, and going down to unbuckle his belt.

he slaps your hand away, trailing kisses down from your lips, and while maintaining eye contact with you, he licks your breast, flicking your nipple with his tongue.

"fuck, dean."

dean twitches in his pants hearing you moan his name like that.

"a thong?" he smirks, pushing the tiny pice of fabric to the side so he can get a good look of your pussy. "fuck you're so wet already."

your legs instinctively try to close, but dean keeps them open with his hands, slapping your thigh in the process. He can't hide his smile when he sees you clench around nothing as he does that.

"stop smiling like that." your face turns red.

"like what?" he knows exactly what you're talking about. grinning, biting his lip, driving you crazy.

"you know, it's quite unfair." you say, squirming under his touch.

"what is?" he asks, breath hitting your exposed sex and fingers inching closer.

you buck your hips up wishing for some sort of friction and groan. "i'm naked, and you still have your pants on."

He hums. "i kinda like it like this. you're spread wide and so.. so.. pretty..." he suddenly licks a stripe up your slit, lingering and circling your clit. "all for me."

"holy shit." you throw your head back.

dean doesn't stop there. He keeps licking and sucking, dipping his tongue inside you every once in a while. he traces your slit with his fingers before pushing two digits in, curling them and making you arch your back.

"dean," you moan his name, tugging his hair as he's about to make you come.

he keeps his eyes on you, and you're staring back at him before the coil inside you finally snaps and your toes curl, your orgasm washing over you.

dean slows his movements, still toying with your clit to help you with your high until you're flinching away, the sensation a little too much.

he chuckles seeing your worn out state and stands up, his five o'clock shadow covered in your juices.

as you catch your breath, you reach for his belt again. he doesn't slap your hand away this time, letting you take it off and undo his jeans.

"fuck," you whisper to yourself when you see his size and how hard he is.

dean takes the rest of his pants off and joins you in bed, kissing you and guiding your hand to touch him. he lets out a shaky breath when you finally grab the base of his cock and start pumping a few times.

"god you're beautiful," he says.

you chuckle, lining his cock with your entrance.

"and impatient." he teases, nudging his tip while coating himself in your wetness.

"dean, i swear-"

he pushes in one swift motion, knocking the breath and words out of you.

"mm. fuck." he moans. "you were saying?"

you moan before pulling him down to kiss you. "move... please."

he pulls almost all the way out before pushing back in, slowly increasing his pace. his grip on your waist is almost bruising, but the look he has on you is going to leave a permanent mark for sure.

dean's hand cups your cheek, and you turn your head slightly to take his thumb in your mouth, sucking gently while keeping his gaze.

"son of a...." he groans out loud.

dean almost rests his weight on you, allowing you to cling to him and pull him closer. your orgasm is approaching quickly, and you squeeze around him to hold on just a bit longer, clawing his back in the process.

"dean, i'm gonna come." you moan, "fuck you're gonna make me come."

"yeah?" he smiles, thrusting a little harder and deeper. "let go. come for me."

you let your orgasm wash over you, and a moan escapes when you feel him filling you up. you two stay like that for a minute, in each other's arms, his head buried in your neck leaving kisses while you play with his hair.

"so," dean says, lifting himself off of you. "let me take you to dinner?"

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x reader fluff #spn #dean winchester spn #dean winchester supernatural #dean spn #supernatural fic

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saelestia · 5 months

Text

MY SATORU.

cw. fluffy, gn reader, no mentions of gender/anatomy, satoru proposes, humourous, love sick satoru, brief mentions of megumi, sukuna, nanami and itadori, reader defends toru from nanamin not proofread sooo.. rbs appreciated

an . rlly long wip, butttt pulled through! my faves read this over for me! @cheriiyaya and @ladyth approved

gojo, a name with immense significance to the entirety of tokyo. no matter where gojo goes, hes looked at differently, in tokyo, hes looked at as an untouchable god and at work hes known as the dummy sorcerer. not all those names define satoru, they define gojo. between you and satoru, he wasnt gojo to you, a man with a title, an ego and a badge of honor, to you, he was satoru, someone who's gentle, loving, and teasing. someone who you yearned to protect and be protected by, someone who can lean on you as much as you need to lean on him. someone who uses his brain and brawn to his advantage. satoru, the name that makes him feel significant and important, rather than gojo, who people fear, and thirst over. instead he's your 'toru. your handsome boy who's dramatics woo you, and pull you in closer. satoru, a man with something going for him, someone with a sense of self longing purpose. he doesnt stress it enough when he tells you, he knows he should say it more, and it rolls off the tongue so easy when he comes home from a mission but its different, when a little more pours out of his mouth.

"welcome home satoru" you mumble out when your bedroom door opens, you take a pause from scrolling on your phone to give your attention to satoru, as he plummets into the sheets with a soft groan. despite how all the feelings he felt, you still without fail-- ask him how his day went. and with a quick raise of the mattress, he's sitting beside you, telling you in detail about all the things he'd done while away from you. "nanamin was especially mean to me, love :(" he'd sigh dramatically, in which you'd respond with a "next time i see him, ill be sure to talk to him about how he treats you, satoru." in a rather stern tone, reminding him you'll always defend and help him out in such situations. he continues -- "yuuji trained especially hard with megumi, sukuna took his exhaustion as an opportunity to pull more dumb things to make my life difficult, of course it didnt work, i am the strongest~" he smirks, soaking in his own ego, "yuuji's quite strong, he works so hard to support himself -- ahh! and gumi!, i miss gumi.. tell him he needs to come home sometime soon, and we can have a spa day, just the three of us." you say, running your fingers through satoru's silky hair, reminiscing in the past when you had taken both satoru and megumi with you to your spa appointments all those years ago. "what! you and me never go on spa days" with a pout and a groan-like whine, " ill take you out on a date sometime soon, just you and me, okay?" you mumble into his hair while you stroke your fingers through his silk locs. its silent, for a moment, and only for a moment. in the next moment, satorus hand was rummaging through the drawer. "i told myself i wasn't going to ask you abruptly, and that i was going to make it romantic, but the need to be by your side forever, cant wait any further. can we get married? yes or yes?" he questions, the box containing what you can only assume is a ring, sitting in his hand, while his blue eyes peer into yours. "of course yes satoru, i love you." you mumble, a smile tugging at the sides of your lips, as he smiles, squealing like a girl "eeh! i knew you'd say yes," he'd coo, "'ts not like you left me much of a choice 'toru, you only gave me the yes option." you smile, as he slips the ring onto your ring finger. "ha?! are you saying you would've said no?" he gasps dramatically, pausing while he slipped the ring onto your finger.

"i'd say yes in every universe, satoru."

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sluttysanemi · 4 months

Note

AHHH !!

i have this request with sanemi or even obanai, smut ofc although i love comfort & fluff !

sanemi or obanai during&after nnn (no nut november) ???

🤍 🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ – MORNING ARISES.

c/w: smut, thigh fucking, mirror sex? , established relationship

a/n: i promise ill write 4 obanai one day i jst rlly like writing and posting sanemi.. also what do we think of fallen angel sanemi?? idk that could be pretty hot

A new morning dawns as another month begins. You groggily vacate from your bed, as segments of light emerge through the window. It'd been an uproarious month, particularly for Sanemi- who slept, half asleep, beside you.

He restricted himself of you the entire november, for particularly petty reasons. There was no intimacy across those days, and you knew he grew desperate by the second week.

This was, however, not what rang across your mind. Rather, you proceed to your customary morning routine, shuffling your body to the common bathroom.

Gazing at the mirror across, you crank the tap, letting the water stream along your palm; before splashing it against your face. You clear the nightly buildup your body formed upon your face, whilst awaking yourself.

While performing your morning dues, Sanemi would promptly stumble from the sheets. You could hear the heavy thud of his feet as he staggered along the floorboards to the lavatory. His rich sandalwood fragrance quickly spreads across the small space. You whispered an earnest greeting, as you continued.

It was until he suddenly drew closer, throwing his robust arms along your waist and sinking his face in the crook of your neck. His chest was rigorous against your back, you could feel the faint twitch of his pectorals. His hips were particularly close, as he pressed against you boldly.

It was evident he was still half slumbering as he laid his light lips against the exact region upon your shoulder.

“Missed ya so much…”, he spoke dazedly.

You swiftly realized what he meant, as he drove his hips against you. You could feel the hard contour of his famished shaft as it pushed along. He dressed only in his boxers, thus you could feel every detail of his length, as it struggled against the thin fabric of the garment.

“Please…”, Sanemi uttered.

Your cheeks flush, and your breathing grows heavy. You grant his plea with a subtle nod, watching as he slowly tugs at your panties, exposing your cunt to the warm air.

He follows, pulling his firm dick from his waistband. His rigid cock lubricated with the sinful beads of his pre, as it trails downwards.

Still barely conscious, he struggles to push himself into you, instead driving between your thighs. You could feel his veins throbbing against your clit, whilst he groans in ecstasy. It hadn't mattered where he was buried, you still felt phenomenal.

He took a firm hold of your hips, and began to move slowly, humping himself between your legs.

You could feel him rutting against your lower lips, as your slick stained his cock. He pulsed with excitement.

“Hnn.. so good f’me… so soft…”, Sanemi’s words spilled incoherently, his mind clouded with pleasure.

You looked wistfully to the mirror, your cheeks a deep scarlet. His cock pushes against you endlessly, while you clutch to your bathroom's surface.

A hand would slowly surface along your body, wrapping itself around your tit. His fingers delicately pinch at the soft nub, eliciting a groan from your lips. You grind yourself against him, desperately yearning for more of him, more of his desperation.

His head separates from your shoulder, tilting back, as his hips grow more fervent. The sound of his labored breathing and the feel of his skin on yours send thrills down your spine.

His grip tightens around you, his rough nails pressing into your skin. His breath feels hot on your neck, his presence overwhelming and stifling.

“Fuck… s–so-.. Shit–..”, he pants endlessly. He's pulsating ceaselessly, so close to achieving a rush that he's starved himself completely of. His firm tip continually humping against you, twitching in elation as he feels the clench of your thighs, strumming against his sensitive skin.

His balls begin to tighten, as his ability of thought fades.

With a few more ruts of his hips, he spills himself, his spurts of pleasure trickling between your thighs, and the counter- too eager to feel ashamed of having finished so swiftly.

His formerly cruel fingers begin to gently knead your hips, while he splays kisses around your neck. You tilt your head backwards, indulging into his expression of affection.

“C’mon, sweet girl… ‘nother one. Wanna show you how bad I missed you.”, Sanemi coos softly, against your ear.

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python333 · 7 months

Note

HAI! i rlly like your platonic 141 fics and I'm wondering if we could get some more dad price and/or brother gaz sleepy cuddles? :3

stretched too thin — python333

— — — —

synopsis gaz notices you overworking yourself one night and decides to step in before you end up pulling an all-nighter.

relationships platonic!gaz & gn!reader.

characters gaz.

word count 2.05k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of pet names [love, darling], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note oh my god im so sorry i disappeared for like. a month. ill try my best to not be gone for more than a week at a time, but with all of my schoolwork and just over all stress ive been experiencing lately, i dont know if ill be able to get fics out every week :< ill try my best though! please accept this fic as an apology—its another big bro gaz one!! special shoutout to everyone else who has an older sibling thats very distant with them, you and me are in the same boat fr!! also, last thing—im thinking about making a discord server where i announce when fics are being written and published and stuff, but i dunno if yall would join or anything, so if u would pls lmk!!

You haven’t left your office in five hours.

Recently—just about two days ago—you finished up an assignment fairly quickly and, as a result, had to write a detailed report of said assignment. It went over the mission you’d gone on, and listed off every major detail you could think of, though because you just can’t give yourself a break you were constantly thinking of other details you might’ve missed even though there was little chance you’d missed anything.

The mission wasn’t anything too important, honestly. It was originally going to be a week-long camp-out reconnaissance by an enemy task force’s base, obtaining information on their schedule and what they did throughout the day and whatnot. However, only a day into the mission, the small squad of soldiers that had accompanied you saw another small military group observing the same group you’d been observing.

So, naturally, you observed them as well. Aren’t you just the best multi-tasker?

The task force eventually found out about the other group, just a day later, while your squad was still in the clear to continue your observations. So, your mission had quickly come to a close—but, because of the circumstances under which the mission had come to a close, you were required to write an extremely detailed report on the other group and the group you’d been observing.

It would be an understatement to say you were tired. You’re exhausted.

Between the non-stop writing, the coffee sitting on your desk that’s been microwaved five times and has been refilled thrice, and the uncomfortable chair you’ve sat in that you have yet to replace, you’re extremely exhausted. Your movements are sluggish, your fingers aren’t as swift on the keyboard of your computer as they usually are, and worst of all—you still have more to write.

Your eyes stung and felt dry, your hands felt like they were going to stop working completely at any moment, and you were overall just exhausted.

You look over at the clock on your desk, and it reads 02:28 AM, indicating that you would only have about four hours to sleep if you went to bed now. I’m too far into this report to stop now, You tell yourself, sighing as you blink slowly at your computer screen, If only my vision didn’t keep getting blurry…

Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, and for a second you think you’re hallucinating until the knock sounds once more.

Reluctantly, with a voice raspy from not using it almost all day, you call out, “Come in!”

Your voice is softer and quieter than you’d like it to be, but it doesn’t matter too much to you at this moment—at least, not in your foggy mind that still begs you for sleep, even when you have far more of your report to finish.

The door opens with a creak, and in walks Gaz.

“Sarg,” He greets you, not bothering to close the door behind him as he walks up to your desk, “Pleasure to see you for the first time in, what… three days?”

“Two days and eighteen hours,” You correct him, taking a moment to crack your stiff knuckles, not taking your eyes off of your monitor, “And you know you don’t have to call me ‘sarg’ or ‘sergeant’ or anything. We’re the same rank.”

Gaz promptly ignores you, “Right, well, anything over a day is way too long for me to go without seeing you. Why’re you all cooped up in here on your computer?”

“‘Cause I need to write a report on my assignment,” You briefly explain, before lightly goading Gaz, “Not all of us need a shit ton of attention every day like you do.”

“Ehh,” Gaz theatrically makes a thinking face, before shrugging, “Not sure what you mean by ‘us’, but alright.”

“By ‘us’, I mean everyone but you.”

“Surely that doesn’t include you, right?”

“It does.”

Gaz gasps quietly at your reply, before dramatically responding, “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“I absolutely can,” You hum, finally taking your eyes off of your computer screen to look up at Gaz, “Is it so hard for you to believe that I don’t need to talk to you every waking hour?”

“It is, actually,” Gaz scoffs, “Because I know that you do need to talk to me every waking hour.”

“Uh, no I don’t,” You childishly argue, raising an eyebrow at Gaz.

“Uh, yes you do,” Gaz immaturely argues back, crossing his arms, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that the past two days and eighteen hours haven’t been shit because I haven’t given you any attention.”

You open your mouth to form a response but quickly close it, realizing that yeah, actually, I kind of do crave his attention.

Fuck.

“You’re not the only person that gives me attention,” You point out, hoping to find some way to change the subject.

“Sure, but you like the attention I give you the most,” Gaz hums, leaning forward to rest his crossed arms on your desk opposite of where you sit.

“You don’t know that.”

“Then tell me that I’m wrong,” Gaz challenges you.

You narrow your eyes at him, glaring at him for a moment before sighing, “You suck.”

“Maybe I suck, but you look like you haven’t slept for the past week,” Gaz points out, “You look exhausted, by the way. And dehydrated. Actually, you just look like the human embodiment of a headache.”

“What the fuck?”

“I mean that in the most loving, non-offensive way possible.”

“You come into my office, accuse me of needing attention from you, then you insult me by calling me the human version of a headache?”

“It wasn’t an insult!” Gaz raises his hands in surrender, before sighing, “I’m being serious. You look dead, [c/n]. You need sleep.”

“What I need is to finish this report,” You huff out, beginning to turn your attention back to your computer, before Gaz’s hand is quickly placed on your chin and forces you to look back at him.

“No, what you need is some rest,” Gaz argues, more serious this time, taking his hand off of your chin—something you shouldn’t miss nearly as much as you do, the warmth of his hand fading far too quickly from your face—and bringing it back to rest on the desk.

“Maybe you need rest, Gaz.”

“Sure I do,” He shrugs, “But I’m only going to sleep if you do.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Really? You’re pulling that card?”

“I am.”

You stare at him for a moment, mentally weighing your options, before sighing and bringing your elbows up to the table so that you can place your forehead in your hands.

On one hand, if you stay in your office you can finish up your report before four and then go to sleep, and hope that you magically feel active even with just an hour or two of sleep in the morning. On the other hand, if you go to sleep now, so does Gaz, and then you both get more than just two hours of sleep.

After another moment of consideration, you huff out a frustrated breath and mutter, “Fine.”

Gaz smiles down at you and walks around your desk to your side of it, holding out a hand for you to grab to help yourself up from your chair and using his free hand to save your report and power off your monitor.

You take his hand and stand up, your legs a little weak and balance iffy from sitting down for so long, but within the next few minutes you’re sure you’ll be able to properly walk. You let go of his hand once you’re positive you won’t fall over, and once he sees that you’re able to walk, Gaz silently walks towards the door of your office. Just as quietly, you follow him.

He turns off the lights for you and lets you walk out of the office first, locking the door from the inside and closing it once you’re out. Once he’s done, he takes the lead again and you follow him down to his sleeping quarters. It’s not too long of a walk there, only two minutes at most.

Once you’re there, Gaz opens the door and lets you walk in first. Once you’re inside and Gaz has closed the door, you shrug off your camouflage patterned jacket and toe off your already loosened tan boots, leaving you in just your camouflage cargo pants and army green undershirt.

You look down at your pants with a frown, knowing from experience that sleeping in them was incredibly uncomfortable and left you regretting your whole existence the morning after, but before you could even look over at Gaz to tell him of your situation, you felt something being thrown at you.

You immediately turn your attention to the item that had been hurled at you—the item in question being a pair of gray sweatpants, some that would probably be a little bit looser than you’d prefer on your figure—and then look over at Gaz with a questioning look.

“Figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in that,” Gaz shrugs, nodding to your cargo pants in response to your nonverbal confusion.

You hum in appreciation, not wanting to talk too much at the moment, instead waiting for Gaz to look away before slipping off your pants and replacing them with the sweatpants Gaz had thrown at you. The fit isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought they’d be—they’re loose and hang low on your hips, just like you thought they would, of course, but they don’t feel nearly as weird as you thought they would.

Once you’ve tightened the strings on the waist of the pants, you get into Gaz’s bed, pulling the covers up and over yourself. Gaz quickly settles into the bed next to you, quickly getting himself comfortable under the sheets, and pulling the covers up and over his shoulders in one swift movement.

He gets closer to you, so close that his chest presses against your back and you can feel the tip of his nose ghosting over the top of your head. He wraps one arm over your body to pull you impossibly closer to him, and his other arm snakes underneath the side of your body so that both of his arms are wrapped around you.

He hums contently and his thumb rubs small circles into your clothed stomach, the action—despite being small—causing your stomach to warm up almost immediately.

“Comfortable, darling?” Gaz asks quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Very,” You mumble back, trying to subtly lean your head back against Gaz in hopes of getting at least one more kiss. Noticing your efforts, he huffs out a small laugh and presses another gentle kiss right at the edge of your hairline before pressing one last one to your forehead.

Even with the comforting atmosphere, you can’t find it within yourself to fully relax, your body still tense and stiff underneath the blanket. Gaz, just like he did with your “subtle” movements, notices and frowns.

“Just sleep,” Gaz tiredly mumbles into the top of your head, “You have to get up in three hours. The sooner you sleep, the more sleep you get.”

You don’t respond, instead simply sighing and forcing your eyes closed. You do have to admit, it’s nice being able to actually close your eyes for something other than blinking, and closing your eyes for longer than half a second has made you realize that they were even drier than you thought they were.

Exhausted and ready to finally sleep, you eventually get to a point where you no longer need to force your eyes shut, and as a result, your whole body relaxes for the first time in almost six hours.

“G’night, love,” Gaz murmurs, feeling your body relax next to his. You hum in acknowledgment of his words, not finding the energy within yourself to properly respond, instead finding yourself drifting off into a deep sleep.

And if four hours later, Gaz wakes up and simply lies there, not waking you and instead letting you get some more sleep despite you having to be up soon, nobody has to know.

270 notes · View notes

dollfaceksj · 10 months

Note

GIRL THE WAY ID BE THROWING UP IF I GOT THAT MESSAGE 😭😭 LIKE WDYM "COME OUT"?? no hello how are you jus straight to the point

well let’s see what tae has to say!

i’ve been brainstorming this lore since like the 2nd or 3rd drabble. it’s rlly sad guys. i just love angst too much. you have been WARNED. i took out some of it bc to me it was a little too much lmao. a little too dark. the too dark stuff might come back later. its just details. so yeah. i took out a bit of the sadness but its still sad. uve been warned.

going to sleep right after this so scream at me all u want. 😘

taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) #18

masterlist

<- previous ; next ->

‘Come out’

COME OUT

worry is already bubbling up the back of your throat

you turn to jungkook. “what the fuck do i do?”

“calm down,” he whispers, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “pretend you’re asleep.”

you shake your head. “that’s gonna make it more obvious. what if he comes all the way here and continues to try and wake us up and then he’ll see the state of this damn tent when we open up?” you say while sliding on your shoes

jungkook clicks his tongue as he contemplates. “alright, whatever you do, just don’t admit, alright? we’re not exactly in an area where we have hospitals and stuff.”

you nod to what he’s saying but his last words snap you out of it

???

your heart is already starting to beat quicker than it should

“hospital??? why a hospital??? you think he’s gonna get violent?”

he shakes his head. “i’m not explicitly saying that, i’m just saying someone could get hurt whether that’s through a fight or by accident. like he could get angry and trip or hit something with his fist. we don’t exactly have anything here to take care of him.”

you blink at him for a few moments as you start tugging your pants back up and try to fix your hair

he’s so?? calm about that

he knows tae would be angry and try to fight him but he’s calm to keep you calm

he adds, “just calm down, okay? i’ll be near if you need me.”

you shake your head. “no, you need to stay far away from me when i’m talking to taehyung.” you start to unzip the tent and glance back at him

just in time to watch him yank his condom off

ugh gross

you groan, “what are you going to do with that thing!!!”

“i don’t know!!! what am i supposed to do????”

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

at least he’s funny 😭😭

“y/n,” he calls out to you before you exit the tent

you turn to look at him over your shoulder

“just breathe.”

the words are so insignificant

but in this moment

they mean so much

you nod your head. you slowly crawl out and look around, the only thing that has some light is the campfire but if you squint

you see tae’s silhouette by the campfire

you take a deep breath

you can do this

you can do this.

you slowly walk up to him, watching as his figure becomes bigger and bigger until he looks up at you

“hey,” you quietly say

your hands are sweating like fucking crazy

“hey.” he rises to his feet. “come,” he says as he starts walking away from the campfire

and

away from civilians…..

where is he taking you??

why are you so nervous

just calm down

don’t get it wrong though

you’re not scared of tae, never will be

on the contrary actually he’s your home

but the tension is weird.

you quietly follow him

“where are we going?” you quietly ask

the crunching of the branches underneath your feet and the sounds of beetles making noise fill up your ears

he replies, “somewhere private, obviously.”

what the hell

what the HELL?

what’s up with him

WHAT IS GOING ON

everyone’s asleep? why would u need privacy

now you’re starting to get scared

not of him but of what he has to say

fuck

your heart is beating out of control

just breathe. breathe. jungkook said to breathe.

tae stops near the open road, leaning against a tree

you look at him confused

you start, “sooo… what did you want to talk about?”

he crosses his arms.

as if you’re supposed to know

you frown

huh???

what is going on?

fuck

have you and jungkook been too obvious after all?

you manage to collect yourself and ask, “what?”

he pinches his brows together. “jungkook.”

heart

freefalls to your feet

oh shit

oh no

“what about him?” you try to sound casual

he tilts his head to the side. “did you forget? i was going to tell you about him.”

wait

oh shit

oh he’s talking about

jungkook being sensitive???? going through a lot??

OH PHEWWWWW

Holy shit

thought it was about to be your last day on earth

“oh. oh!” you snap out of your thoughts. “yeah, right. right. what’s going on?”

taehyung takes a deep breath as he starts talking about jungkook

“listen. jungkook has a lot of issues and emotional baggage that you need to take into consideration when you say certain stuff to him.”

hm?

what…

this sounds..

pretty dark?

“what do you mean?”

he sighs and rubs his eyes. “i mean that you’re a bit harsh on him sometimes. jungkook grew up in a messy household. shitty dad. busy mom.”

oh right

his mother is a sensitive topic

you say, “okay, that’s sad but a lot of people grow up in broken homes.”

he nods. “you’re right but a lot of people react differently to trauma.”

ohhh kay

we getting into trauma territory ???

“and how does he react?”

“after witnessing his parents arguing and in physical altercations, jungkook decided that romance was nothing for him because he associates marriage and love with what he saw growing up.”

you blink at him.

that’s actually kinda sad

you wonder how young jk was during these things :(

poor guy

“so, how’s his relationship with his parents now? does he still talk to his mom?”

he shakes his head. “his mother passed away. dad didn’t even show up to the funeral. made 15 year old jungkook go through it all on his own.”

(backstory for that is even sadder so i took it out.. might come later)

if you’ve ever felt like your heart imploded within your ribs

it was in this exact moment

the birthflower tattoo :(

you glance at the ground. “what about his dad?”

“his piece of shit dad only throws money at him. he’s rich so he thinks pumping jungkook’s bank account full of money is a good way of raising him.”

that’s why

“oh. that’s why he always seems to have money but is never working a job…” you think out loud

taehyung nods his head at your epiphany

you continue, “and always wearing seemingly expensive clothes. his sneakers, the calvin klein boxers… hm.” you nod your head

he nods again but slowly stops. “what?”

???

“what?” you echo

“how do you know what kind of boxers he wears?”

fuck

oh no

you blink quickly. “what?”

he stares you down head-on. “you just said he wears calvin klein. how do you know that? what situation would you need to be in in order to know that?”

fuck

oh god

just calm down

jungkook said to stay calm and breathe

don’t admit

“tae, i share a tent with him. you think he shyly hides his shit away from me when he takes clothes out of his bag? he doesn’t really care.”

wow

you really just talked shit and it worked

cause tae’s frown subsides

“oh okay.” he rubs his chin. “well, now you know why jungkook is looking for affection anywhere he can get it because he doesn’t really care for romance.”

“oh,” you manage to say, a bit choked up. because that’s. really sad.

ugh

“he was once head over heels for a girl. it’s like she made him forget about everything.”

made him forget about everything

“he swears she cheated on him but she’s adamant on the fact that they were never really together. it also added onto why jungkook doesn’t get romantically involved with people. he genuinely thinks it’s nothing for him.”

so jungkook is convinced that love just isn’t for him

but then he goes out and disguises his need for love and affection as sex and quick fucks

man

you do actually feel guilty about calling him a fuckboy now

he’s still a fuckboy

but :( u should stop saying it to his face :(

and now knowing about his mom :(

you wonder what happened…

like you really don’t need to know that

knowing she’s dead is enough

but knowing how she died makes it easier for you to talk about certain topics around jungkook

but

that’s too dark for now

however

thinking about young jungkook

associating something as beautiful as love

with something as horrible as a broken home

hm?

what’s that?

you’re melting

your hard shell is cracking

you just

want to hold him now :(

give him the affection he so desperately desires :(

but should you feed into it?

clearly it’s not healthy for him

you know if you’ll keep sneaking around with jungkook

he might get attached

and you don’t like jungkook like that

so you’d have to break his heart

again

this is so messy

you need to call it quits with jungkook while you still can

“so just,” he sighs quietly, “i know he’s a bit of a player but he just craves affection. and seeing you two constantly bickering and being mean to each other, i just want y’all to get along. maybe even form the same type of bond you and i have. he should get affection in other ways, not just through sex, you know? you could be like,” he says as he thinks for a moment, “his big sister.”

oh for fucks sake.

this just

you’d rather tae find out about you and jungkook than assume y’all have a sibling-like bond 😭😭😭

like yeah

you and tae are very sibling like

because of tae’s responsibility to you

but if he starts thinking you and jungkook are just *gag* SIBLINGS *gag*

oh this is sickening

you slowly nod your head to what he’s saying but you wish you never heard any of it

you mumble, “let’s go back, we have to get up early.”

“okay. anything else you wanna tell me now that we have all the privacy in the world?” he says in a joking tone

you shake your head. “no, not really.”

he pauses. “really?”

???

“what?” you say

he frowns at you. “i give you the opportunity to come clean right now and you don’t?”

holy shit

what the fuck

oh shit

does he know??? he knows??????

oh no

does he actually think something is going on between you and jungkook?

fuck FUCK

he crosses his arms as he sternly stares you down.

don’t admit

you finally say, “what are you talking about?”

“i’m talking about you and yoongi.”

oh right

oh yoongi…

yeah…. yoongi

you quietly sigh. “i was planning on telling you, i really was. but i don’t know, stuff just kept getting in the way.”

he nods in understanding and pulls you in for a big hug. “it’s okay. i know you’re in good hands.”

you huff. “it’s nothing serious, tae.”

he looks down at you in his arms. “i don’t like that.”

“taehyung, i’m a grown woman,” you say as you roll your eyes

“i know but i don’t wanna be the bearer of bad news back home, okay? just be careful.”

more tae & reader lore coming soon

what is he even saying…

bad news

a broken heart?

a pregnant belly?

a bad academic year?

none of those things are going to happen. trust

you roll your eyes. “nothing bad is going to happen.”

“anything could happen, y/n.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head before releasing you. “now, let’s go back.”

“okay.”

he leads you back to the camping site and walks you to your tent. “goodnight.” he rubs your shoulder before heading back to his tent

and now

you have

to face

him.

you take a deep breath as you crawl back into the tent, jungkook’s back is turned to you

is he asleep?

you’re not sure

you slowly crawl back to your space after zipping the tent back up

“what did he want to talk about?”

jungkook’s voice makes you flinch

he’s awake

“oh,” you blink at his back. “yoongi. he wanted to talk about yoongi.”

lie after lie after lie after lie after lie

he turns onto his back and glances at you, neither of you can see much anyway

“do you want to continue?”

you shake your head. “no, not really. it kind of,” you say as you recall everything taehyung just told you. “ruined my mood.”

“okay.” he slowly crawls over your body and out the tent

“what are you doin–”

“getting rid of the evidence, duh.”

evidence????

the damn condom😭😭😭😭

he’s so fucking annoying

but

you kinda want to hold him now. :(

would he be weirded out

if you

cuddled him?

he probably never cuddles any of his little hookups

but

aren’t you different?

by the time jungkook has returned

you’ve crawled back into his sleeping bag

he doesn’t say anything about it as he crawls in with you

he turns his back to you and seemingly tries to go to sleep

you slowly scoot closer

and closer

until you’re pressed up against him.

“you’re really close, y/n.”

“i know, i’m sorry. i just,” you whisper, “don’t feel so good.”

he doesn’t say anything about it

just like he doesn’t say anything when you wrap your arm around his waist

and press your face into the back of his neck

and place your hand on his chest

the soft thumping of his heart against your hand

you just want him to feel loved :(

“you’re so warm,” you whisper as you close your eyes

for someone who tries to act cold… he’s really warm

so warm

“i could just,” you continue, “lie next to you for the rest of my life.”

now that you think about it

there’s wordplay

cause this could mean two different things

literally lying next to each other, in a bed or whatever

but lying next to him, lying about sneaking around, lying about wanting each other

cause it seems like you’ll be lying about it for the rest of your life at this rate

however

he doesn’t say anything yet again

and it allows you to shut the fuck up

and try to fall asleep

and you do

you’re dozing off

cause you don’t remember him saying these next few words

“i could too.”

to be continued

<- previous ; next ->

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339 notes · View notes

vasito-de-leche · 4 months

Note

iff its still alright for requests then maybe somethingg small n maybe sleepy with forget me not ? nothing specific otherwise just

sleepy eeby forget me not fic. either that or wrangling his soggy ass to sleep(for once

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - "five minutes"

Forget Me Not x Reader. 2.8k words fluff Being in charge of The Walden has its ups and downs - Forget Me Not enjoys being the conductor of an orchestra composed of dying men and women, even if it costs him hours of precious sleep. You make sure to remind him that even the most powerful broker in Chicago deserves a little nap.

this mf has been fighting me for a month or so, it's so hard to write him SLEEPING, HE RLLY DOESNT WANT TO. I HAVE 3 DIFFERENT DRAFTS GRAAAA so here we are. I fought tooth and nail for this, theres 4 different drafts just about FMN getting some fucking sleep. this one even has like, a different version where you fall asleep on his lap instead bc he keeps FIGHTING ME

either way, ty for the request, nonnie! your ask was the perfect excuse to get this done. sorry it ended up being longer than my usual stuff, I just really love the guy

The amount of work needed to maintain an establishment like The Walden often goes unnoticed.

Its elegant ambience and decor, all the powerful and influential people to rub shoulders with, the precise and meticulous organization behind every single detail and decision - all of it can be attributed to a single man, the very same who leads the crowd and makes their drinks.

When the night arrives, he and The Walden come alive.

Hundreds of desperate rats crawl into his den, searching for things they don't deserve: money, fame, fortune, connections, assets. They want to find their place in the world before they're long forgotten, and this is when Forget Me Not steps onto the stage and finds himself in his element, surrounded by all the people who look at him in fear, disgust and awe.

Do they know? That at the end of the world, he holds their fate in the palm of his hand? Him, a simple broker, a middle man.

An inferior, an arcanist.

Of course, the high fades as soon as the sun rears its ugly head over the horizon, his spirits plummet to the ground when the world returns to that monotonous routine. All Forget Me Not can do now is wait.

He would never dream of being so careless as to have his own residence right above his workplace, but he rarely steps into his home in the first place. It's too much trouble to commute back and forth, wasting time in a building that is as devoid of warmth as the blood running through his veins. That private office nestled somewhere within The Walden has become his new safe haven, in fact - with one too many couches to lounge around and no bed in sight.

Not that he sleeps anyway.

Forget Me Not always fancied the most convoluted route into an early grave, and thus has replaced the bottle for something else: endless paperwork.

It's getting harder and harder to conceal the dark bags under his eyes for a semblance of professionalism. How very fitting that, despite all of his efforts and accomplishments, his quality of life continues to deteriorate. What a depressing thought.

The leather of his seat squeaks as he shifts, leaning backwards to fully take in the piles and piles of files atop his desk. His gaze turns to the clock just to confirm what he already knows - it's a little past 6 AM, the cold breeze of the early morning keeping him wide awake. A brand new shipment of materials will arrive in two hours, they will need to be stored but it's an easy enough job for the Disciples. This means that the next important event on his schedule is the meeting at 11 AM. Forget Me Not's face sours right away at the thought, and he reaches for his drink.

And just like that, without any sort of warning, the door to his office is flung open. It's a good thing that despite his awful, awful health, his grip is as steady as ever - not a single drop is spilled. If else, Forget Me Not remains still as a statue, retaining that air of composed aloofness as he raises an inquisitive eyebrow towards the intruder.

It's you, standing perfectly by his door frame. He almost drops the glass once he recognizes your face, but conceals his little slip by settling it back down on his desk.

"Ah, how rare to see you during the day, you're always so busy with errands. To what do I owe this loud, impromptu visit? Keep in mind, I don't start serving drinks until 8 PM."

You don't wait for him to finish, marching towards the small lounge in his office and picking up a small, decorative pillow before dropping backwards onto one of the sofas. A shadow passes over Forget Me Not's eyes - he doesn't know whether to resent you for knowing you have the freedom and privilege to act like this around him, or whether to feel insulted for the way you ignored him just now. He settles for his usual third, secret option - resignation - and makes his way towards you.

Unlike you, Forget Me Not has mastered the art of concealing his presence and so he makes no sound at all when he approaches. He stands right next you, leaning ever so slightly to hover above your face, as if his piercing grey eyes alone could pressure you into speaking.

It doesn't work, at least not right away. You hide behind that useless pillow, then you shift and turn to lay on your side, all while he simply stands in perfect silence. It's a battle of attrition, one he intends to win.

"I slept like shit, okay? Just give me five minutes here and I'll go back to work." Your voice is muffled, but he hears how tired you are anyway.

It's easy to forget that people aren't nocturnal like him, at least not by choice. It's easy to forget about humanity when most of his coworkers are puppets held by strings and ink, mindlessly following orders. When you curl up on the sofa, Forget Me Not remembers just how tired he is and sighs. Soon, he's walking towards the door.

This makes you sit up in a hurry, clearly misinterpreting his actions. "Five minutes, promise! Don't kick me out!"

There's a faint click, it's the lock on the door. Forget Me Not returns to his desk, making sure not to look your way lest his eyes reveal those wretched feelings bubbling in his chest. Did you seriously think he had the nerve to throw you out so carelessly?

"Ten minutes. Make sure not to waste them with chitchat." He can practically sense you silently cheering and getting comfortable in his office. On his couch. It's insufferable, the way you always get what you want while he slaves away with work.

But it's only ten minutes, he can tolerate you for that long.

Three minutes pass, and Forget Me Not realizes that he's spent more time glancing your way than reading the document in front of him.

From his spot, he can only see the top of your head, just a glimpse of your form as you rest your eyes. But every time you move, no matter how subtle, he notices and turns his attention back onto you.

Seven minutes, he only needs to focus for seven minutes. The document in his hand is important: he's negotiating for better materials for his potions at a cheaper cost. This simple deal could mean a lot for Manus Vindictae, always so low on funds, resources and support.

Six minutes. Forget Me Not hears you hum and he slowly turns his head on instinct. You're staring right at him, face resting on the armrest, squishing your cheek against the plush cushions.

"You have four minutes left, are you sure you want to waste them like this?" He lies, as if he wasn't ready to ignore the passage of time to give you a few more extra minutes, expecting you to comply. But you get back at him with a question of your own.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Three minutes." It comes out as a warning. You ignore it.

"I'm serious! You look awful from here." By now, you're sitting down and he knows that if he doesn't stop you, you'll make your way to him. To invade his personal space, cradle his face in your hands and torture him with your gentle touch. "You're always here when I start my shift and when I finish. Where do you get the time to go home and all of that?"

Forget Me Not would rather swallow his own tongue than to openly admit that he essentially lives here. That he has spare clothes in the drawer by the window, that he showers, eats and sleeps in this office of his. You might've figured it out by now, but with his pride and dignity at stake, he pretends to ignore you in favour of work.

"Hey, c'mon. Don't just go back to work like I'm not even here talking to you!" He does exactly that, picking up a pen to sign a few documents. "Drop that. Drop the pen. Hey!"

You talk to him the same way one would talk to a misbehaving dog, and he hears that whiny, frustrated tone in your voice that he's come to appreciate. There is a pause and Forget Me Not does as told - the pen now resting neatly on the desk.

He finally deigns himself to look at you, returning a small smile.

"Thank you, now, like I was saying-"

Thud!

With his free hand, he stamps a document, never breaking eye contact. The pettiness is always worth it, but this time even more so when he sees that tic in your eye and the way you inhale sharply, absolutely done with him. You sit up, consider laying down again in frustration, then simply cross your arms like a child throwing a tantrum - seeing you get worked up over the smallest of things is always such a treat.

"Fine! Be like that! But don't come running when you- Uwaaah!" A yawn interrupts your words, you barely have time to cover your mouth.

Oh no. It's contagious. He feels that tell-tale tingle in his nose, and just like that, he yawns as well.

"Aha! You are tired, I bet you haven't slept properly in days!" An accusatory finger is now pointed at him, and Forget Me Not fights the impulse to roll his eyes.

"That's quite the leap to make over a simple gesture like that. Your time is up, by the way - please, go back to work."

"I'm telling on you, Forget Me Not. I'm so telling on you."

He gives a raspy laugh at this. "And who will you be telling about my horrible sleeping habits? The waiters? The delivery boy? Our esteemed guests?" The latter would definitely eat up any sort of information about his private life, especially if it was something to ruin his reputation, but he doesn't share this out loud.

"Ahh... So, you admit it, then? Having the worst sleeping schedule known to mankind?" Touché.

Before he can even reply, your mouth opens in a feigned yawn and Forget Me Not seethes when he finds himself imitating you. He seethes even more over the smug smile on your face. And he wishes he could just die on the spot when you scoot over and pat the empty seat next to you. Him? Rest? With you? Absolutely not.

"Ten minutes," a tight knot forms in his throat when you start to coax him in. "I'm sure you can spare that much, since you've been indulging me for this long! If you were actually busy, you would've just sent me home to rest. C'mere, sit."

What is the point in keeping track of time by now? Forget Me Not will be by your side until you decide to leave. Indulging you and your stupid ideas, your well-meaning and annoying habits, your reactions - all of it, they're his favorite vice and he never learned how to quit.

"Five minutes." He sits next to you.

"Fair enough." You scoot closer to him.

He watches when you link your arm with his, not bothering to ask for permission. Typical. Your palm is warm as you rest it over his forearm, fingers drumming idly over the soft fabric of his shirt. But you don't linger for too long, and slide down until your index and middle fingers reach the bare skin of his inner wrist, over the pronounced vein there. Can you feel his pulse? The shameless and frantic beat of his heart?

Forget Me Not is so entranced by this simple action that he fails to notice the sudden extra weight - your head rests on his shoulder, with your cheek pressed against the prominent bone. He knows it's an uncomfortable position, because you shift and nuzzle closer to his chest, the top of your head and your hair now tickling his neck and jawline. The knot in his throat returns and he holds his breath on instinct, like an animal at the verge of being devoured.

Nevermind the constant cycle of violence and doom he's turned his life into, these are the horrors that keep Forget Me Not up at night: your body against his, your displays of affection.

"Your eyes," the soft murmur of your voice pulls him from the awful, nonsensical noise in his mind. You're looking up at him. "You're meant to close them. That's what this whole thing is for. Unless ...you can sleep with your eyes open?"

"Don't be ridiculous. As if such a short amount of time could make me fall asleep." He huffs, a way to conceal just how out of breath he is. Part of him is afraid to close his eyes, knowing that he will feel each and every little thing you do - only tenfold. And what would he do with himself then, when all he can focus on is your finger tracing shapes over his palm? It tickles. It's distracting. It's unbearable.

His hand flinches, just barely, and you interlock your fingers with his in response.

"Hush and close them!" Always so obedient to your commands, Forget Me Not does as told, cursing you in his mind.

He gives you an inch, and you take a mile - the moment his eyes are closed, his body turns rigid but you still coax him backwards, so that he can lean on the backrest of the couch. It takes the coordinated effort of every single muscle in his body not to melt on the spot, to remain in a proper, sitting position. With you nestled so comfortably by his side, Forget Me Not makes the worst mistake in his life: he turns his head towards you, his nose now buried in your hair.

The content and pleased noise that leaves him is something that feels alien, entirely out of character for someone like him. Right away, he feels the tips of ears burning with shame and his body uselessly recoils away from you, trying to revert back into that persona he's created for the world.

It backfires immediately.

"...Hm? Is your arm getting numb? Here, let's switch." You move away, all while your hands cradle his face in order to guide him over to your lap.

It's a painfully slow process that is simultaneously over in the blink of an eye. Forget Me Not doesn't know what's worse, the fact that he didn't put up a fight or the way he feels so incredibly small, being held so lovingly by you.

He's laying on his back, hands resting uselessly over his chest like a corpse in an open casket funeral. If he glances upwards (a difficult thing to do, because you flick his forehead whenever you catch him wide awake) he can see you hoarding all the pillows available within your reach to support you as you lounge about, still hellbent on sleeping in with him.

Did he die at some point throughout the day without noticing? Is this his own personal Hell? Forget Me Not wants to speak, to say anything and regain control of the situation, but nothing comes out. All there is to do is to lay there, with your hands combing through his hair.

His heart might as well burst out of his chest. Even better, crawl up his throat and choke him from inside out.

Without thinking, he sits up. It's a nervous impulse. You can't see his face with his back turned to you and he's grateful for the small moment of privacy, as he steels himself to send you away. Or to fuck off into The Walden and walk around aimlessly to cool off, and then avoid you for a few weeks. Whichever comes first.

"Oh! Want a pillow or something? I kind of just took them all without thinking." He doesn't deserve this sort of contact, this domestic bliss - he doesn't want it either.

"Hey, do you think we could do this more often? Just... make some time for me in that busy schedule of yours?" And why would he? You're already pretty skilled at turning his life upside down with your constant nagging and your antics.

"Sorry for being this sappy so suddenly, it just came to mind...Oh, oh! Wait! While you're at it, mind closing the window, please? It's getting a liiittle cold in here."

Forget Me Not leaves his glasses on the table and lays back down, this time making sure to wrap his arms as tightly as he can around your waist, his face hidden in your stomach. What he receives is a weak chuckle, a weak complaint and a weak attempt at pushing him away. You don't mean it, of course - the same way he never means any of the things he thinks.

"Hm, I believe it's perfect like this."

"You're just saying that because you're going to leech off my own body heat, you little snake."

There's a hint of victory in your voice, you've won once again against him but you're always too nice to rub it in. Instead, you caress the scales on his neck, now on full display for you. It's a heavenly sensation.

"Perhaps," he murmurs, eyes closed. "But what are you going to do? Kick me out of my own office?"

"I might if you don't get some rest. Sleep, now."

And just like that, Forget Me Not unravels - he's been waiting so long to be given permission, for someone to allow him a moment of peace despite all these restraints holding him back.

He knows that the moment wakes up, he will act like none of this happened, that he will stubbornly deny everything until his very last breath, but right now, he clings onto you like his life depends on it.

And he falls asleep with your name on his lips

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #r1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 forget me not #forget me not: i fucking hate this world #forget me not the moment you walk in: OMG!!! YIPPIE!!!!#mf is so scary and deranged until youre right there reminding him that hes EXTREMELY touchstarved

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tmntxthings · 1 year

Text

∑—fic. recommendations゜・。

tmntxthings rules & masterlist

《warning: some fics may be nsfw 18+ read the labels for context》

I really wanted a place to show more appreciation for other tmnt writers, so here we are, plus points for organization teehee, I’ll be adding more as I continue to read <3

—————————————————————————

一→ | leonardo hamato | ←一

its you by @ashbub

〈rottmnt, fluff, young!leo, oneshot〉

super duper cute, loved seeing a young reckless leo hehe <3 ash has amazing fics for donnie too

chair-ry on top by @marwhoa

〈rottmnt, fluff, oneshot〉

cutesy meet, despite the monster hehe, leo and his puns, go read all of marlowe’s stuff, rn

the key to my heart by @navithescribe

〈rottmnt, fluff, multi〉

smitten leo teehee, he’s hooked from chapter one

so shell feed by @pxrtalchopped

〈rottmnt, fluff, crack, multi〉

one of the first rise!leo fics i ever read, super fun <3

quick sketch by @landsel

〈rottmnt, nsfw 18+, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, multi〉

eeeeeeee, the feels, im in loveeee, the writinggg, the art, the storyyyyy mwah mwah <3

like father, like son by @eternalglitch

〈rottmnt, angst, multi〉

gonna be completely honest, i couldn’t read past chapter ten-ish but maybe one day my fragile heart will toughen up to finish, honestly a staple rottmnt fic, the writing is devastatingly beautiful <3

little blue hearts by @thelaundrybitch

〈bayverse, 18+, fluff, angst, multi〉

i rlly like the trust building it makes the story so much more realistic, & how relatable/funny all the characters are hehehe, go check out her other works too!! <3

一→ | donatello hamato | ←一

donnie has little mercy on the injured by @dancingdonatello / @pikoit

『rottmnt, fluff, hurt/comfort, oneshot』

loved this, donnie’s nice but yk he has a bad boy persona hehe, they have plenty more oneshots too, go read them alllllll

in my head, we belong by @dancingdonatello / @pikoit

『rottmnt, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, multi』

my heart strings were tugged plenty of times throughout this one, and yes it is completed!

crush too much by @afreakingdork

『rottmnt, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, multi』

oml no words, just go read, you won’t be disappointed, love love love this <3

weird city, weirder neighbors by @in-a-black0ut

『rottmnt, fluff, multi』

super fun, donnie my guy, what a greeting heheheh <3

cool for the summer by @stormywritestuff

『rottmnt, nsfw 18+, fluff, angst, multi』

so so detailed and intricate, love the relationship building, feels so lifelike in the best gritty way possible <3 also i couldn’t find the original post on ash’s tumblr so i went with landsel’s post hehe <3

perfectionists by @rheawritesforfun

『rottmnt, nsfw 18+, fluff, oneshot』

loved. that. sm. rhea has plenty more awesome works for the our beloved turtles, go!!! run!!!! <3

baskè-ball by @thegreat-aristurtle

『rottmnt, fluff, oneshot』

another rottmnt staple in my opinion, like if you haven’t read this yet run run run, beautiful writing <3

hold on by @dunk-on-em-ao3

『rottmnt, sibling angst, hurt/comfort, oneshot』

wahhhhhhh donnie my sweet soft shell turtle, this one rlly hit hard, the differences between donnie and his brothers & feelings that come with being ‘different’ lovely read <3

alpha stage by @snailsnaps

『rottmnt, sibling fluff/angst, multi』

this idea is so so neat and cute, I think the consequences here are the most intriguing, hehe link leads to their masterlist!! <3

softie by @rising-shellshock

『rottmnt, fluff, oneshot』

oh my lord this was so adorable, my heart stuttered a couple of times because i could just feeeeeel the love, pouring out of both donnie & reader, super duper cute <333

like you by @msbarrybeeson

『rottmnt, fluff, angst』

this was one of the first donnie x reader fics i ever read, and it took til now to find it again !!!! another rottmnt staple, the dialogue is just perfect, it’s like I can hear their voices, check out part two!! <33

一→ | raphael hamato | ←一

the red king and his crimson heart by @b00tyshakerr9000

〔rottmnt, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, multi〕

sooo sweet, raph’s a big softie, jay also has another multi fic for donnie <3 check out their stuff

first sight by @yn-hamato

〔rottmnt, fluff, angst, oneshot〕

definitely a cute meet, idc about the circumstances hehehe, tess has more amazing fics too check ‘em out <3

teensy-weensy hiccup, oops by @marwhoa

〔2k12, fluff, oneshot〕

ahhhhh i just love a little jealous raph hehe, again go check out marlowe’s stuff !!!! the bestest !!! <3

ego boost by @raphsgrl

〔bayverse, nsfw 18+, fluff, oneshot〕

so they didn’t rlly have a title so i just made one up >.< i hope that’s okay, just for labeling purposes hehe <333 on another note xD woof!! raph is a hottie right here <3

一→ | michelangelo hamato | ←一

golden hour by @b00tyshakerr9000

{rottmnt, angst, hurt/comfort, oneshot}

wahhhhhhhh my heartttttt T^T~~~~~ such a good read!!! <3

to fill a hole by @ray-jaykub

｛bayverse, nsfw 18+, fluff, oneshot｝

mikey is just so flippin cute, reunions are the best ;D heheheh <3

holding out for a hero by @sharpwindow

{bayverse, nsfw 18+, fluff, oneshot}

him just trying to hold out, and listen to splinter’s advice sksksksksks such a cutie, they also have a bunch more fics <3

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itsmealaiah · 5 months

Note

so okay this might seem rlly weird but if u do fanfics then can u make like a tom kaulitz fanfic where tom has been really cold to "the reader" n then the reader wants to break up n then tom gets like rlly mad and upset and they have like rlly angry sx 🤗😭 if this is too weird or smt then its totally fine and sorry i didnt get into detail too much im not good with writing 😭😭 also love you 🤞

oh my goodness yes a million times yes

You're not leaving me (tom kaulitz x fem reader)

2022 Tom x Fem Reader

Tags/ warnings: yelling, shattering of objects, threatening, slight blood/ cuts, unprotected intercourse, all the regular smut features, I'll try to cover every base bc I love this request 😘 🫶 😍

In this story, I'm absolutely not saying Tom Kaulitz is a bad person. This fanfiction is all my imagination and has nothing to do with how he actually acts and is in real life. Thank you, and enjoy.

also MDNI

Your POV:

It's been three weeks since Tom returned from tour, and he hasn't said but a couple words to me. I was growing more and more distant from him by the day, and I knew he was too. He was always working, rehearsing, or on tour. Truth was, I missed him. I missed him so much it hurt.

I tried talking to him so many times, to which he just blew me off, giving me no acknowledgment whatsoever, as if I'm invisible. And seeing him with all those girls at interviews made me feel even worse. I was growing tired of no affection, and was planning to end the relationship.

We've been together for two years, and I hated wasting what we had, but I needed someone who cared for my needs, who gave me love and all of them. I had been avoiding this, trying to find good in him but it became too much to bear at this point.

I gathered my confidence, and walked to his office where he sat, clearly tensed as he worked on music for the album. "Tom?" I asked, trying not to startle or annoy him. I shouldn't even have to do that, my reason for this attempt.

"What?" He shouted, getting up and walking over to where I stood, leaning on the door frame. Fear began to build up, and I felt helpless as his tall body was against me, angered already. "What could you possibly need?" He hissed.

He pushed me out of the office roughly, nearly throwing me into the living room. I stood my ground, firm. "I want to break up" I finally said, getting my worst fear of what could happen out of my system. I'm not going to be pushed around anymore. He neared me, huffing lowly.

"What?" He said, and I immediately regretted my decision, but it needed to be said. "I want to break up" I repeated, still holding my ground. "I heard you the first time" He yelled, and began to smash every memory we had built together, the picture frames, the little trinkets we had collected, shattered onto the ground within mere seconds.

I let him continue his rage, too afraid to move. I let him destroy everything, every solid core memory we had together because I was too fucking scared. "Weak" My head told me over, and over, and over, replaying like some sickness, corrupting my thoughts. He paused, and stopped, looking straight at me.

I didn't recognize this man at first, this man with hate, anger, pure, unfiltered anger in his deep brown eyes. I hadn't recognized him at all for the past three weeks, to be truthful to myself. I missed that man he was before tour, before all of this. I didn't know what happened, or if anything even happened at all.

Maybe he was just sick of me, sick of my constant bullshit. He picked up a vase and threw it straight at me, causing my skin to break and blood to slowly seep out. I felt it but didn't do anything, fear in my feeble, small body too strong to comprehend anything.

He looked at my arm, the red liquid making its way down the skin. He stopped in his mission of destruction and approached me again. I was too scared to form simple words, let alone full sentences.

"Go upstairs, now." He demanded. "I'll give you a few minutes to clean your wound but be ready. I want you stripped, bare." He pushed me in the direction of the stairs. I was paralyzed. "Move bitch! Now!" His hands were placed on my back, making me nearly fall over. I stumbled, but quickly regained my balance.

I walked up the stairs, the blood seeping out so much it made my head go fuzzy as I trudged up the final step. I made it to our bedroom, more likely his bedroom, and opened the door to the bathroom adjoined to the room.

I grabbed bandaids, and some cream for the cut, rubbing it in deep. "What did he say?" I tried my best to remember the words he roared at me before forcing me up here. "Something..bare?" I couldn't quite form proper thoughts, I had lost a good amount of blood.

"Stripped bare" My brain corrected, finally beginning to work again. I sighed and then my eyes widened in understanding. "Great" I muttered, cleaning the rest of the liquid off of my sore arm. I stepped into the dim-lit bedroom and began to undress.

I laid back on the bed, the cold air making its way to my skin. I heard the subtle sound of footsteps outside the room and the door clicking. I was looking up at the ceiling, trying with all of my might to not look at Tom. "You actually listened" His deep voice echoed throughout the room, seeming to bounce around.

He stepped onto the bed, hovering above my still-lying body. I was too afraid to move. His lips began to work on my neck, leaving marks. He was still fully clothed. His hands traveled down my skin, pulling me against him. A moan was beginning to build itself inside my throat, soon begging to be let out.

His lips were still at my neck, but his head rose slowly, lips hovering over mine. His breath was hot and ragged as he attacked my mouth, tongue fighting my own for dominance. His hands groped the sides of my head, and I was squirming underneath him. I moaned into his mouth, and I felt his lips curve into a smile.

"Good girl" He told me, pulling his shirt above his head. He again attacked my lips, tugging at them so hard they might've split and bled.

I whimpered loudly as his lips wrapped around my nipple. My back began to arch off the bed but his hands pushed me down roughly, and I gasped. "Stay still schlampe" He commanded as his tongue lapped around the bud. I nearly screamed, trying to hold my groans in.

He slipped his pants off, revealing his boxers. I whined and reached for him, trying to hold him close. "Be patient" He demanded, finally stripping out of the underwear. He held me down, hot breath fanning against my earlobe.

"Be good for me, and I'll let you come" He said, breath ragged. I gasped, and his head lifted from my ear. "Ready?" He asked, his length teasing my entrance. "Don- don't do that" I huffed, whimpering. "Do what? This?" He plunged into me and began pounding in and out, tears beginning to cloud my eyes.

I screamed in pleasure. His pace was frantic, the brutal thrusting making my back arch up off the bed. His hand began to rub between my folds, and my hips jerked up. "Such a good fucking toy" His voice was husky as he made me moan so loud the neighbors were probably going to complain.

He was looking up at me the entire time, sweat dripping down his forehead. I was panting, choked sobs left my throat, escaping through my parted lips."Please please stop" I cried out, as his pace was ruthless.

"You really think -fuck- I'm going to stop after what you did?" He groans, rocking me back and forth, the headboard slamming into the wall. My moans were getting more quiet, sobs overtaking them. I was too busy having my body drunk in pleasure to fully compute what the hell was actually happening.

He groaned and began to twitch inside me. "You almost there love?" He asked through a whimper. I nodded and began to feel the familiar knot build up. He released in me, juices coating my inner walls. I moaned and scratched his back as I came, thighs shaking after I did. "I'm not done yet" He grinned.

His fingers were pushing the liquids back in, making me sob. I was beginning to get overstimulated, which is what I could only guess he wanted. He rubbed my slick harshly, and I began to cry. The pain was quickly melting into pleasure as I shook. He looked up at my teary eyes, thrusting his fingers into me roughly.

"Tom!" I screeched, my second release coming hard and fast. He didn't stop, knowing I was close again. He never left me edged, always wanted me to reach the peak of pleasure, which was troubling me now.

"Stop!" I screamed again, his eyes widened and he pulled his fingers out. I was sobbing, my whole body shaking. "Oh love" He sighed, hugging me tightly. "Why did you ignore me before" I cried out, squeezing him. "I missed you" I sniffled into his chest. "I'm sorry schatzi, I just thought you didn't want to be with me anymore, which was kind of true"

He rubbed the back of my head calmingly. I soon fell asleep, wrapped up in his embrace. "Goodnight sweet girl" He tucked me in and nestled against me, eyes shutting and sleep taking over his body

a/n: i'm gonna try and two 2 writings a day now. next week i might only do one per day depending on schedules xx alaiah

also THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST LOVE YOUU ❤️ 😍 🫶 😘

#tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x you #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #itsmealaiah

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 year

Note

i adore reading your analytical posts abt soc so much jts not even funny; stumbling upon your account was like a coming across a goldmine 🙏 ALSO I RLLY WANT TO ONOW ABT THE SHE TREATS US LJKE MARKS ESSAY IVE NEVER THOIGHT ABT THAT RLLY also i loved the mr crimson post anw im sorry i’ll shut up now

Thank you so much, I’m so glad you like them!!

This is the first time someone’s submitted a question so bare with me because if there’s any way to do this wrong I’ll probably manage it, but here are my thoughts on the red herrings :)

She’s treating us like marks - an analysis of Leigh Bardugo’s use of red herrings in Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom

*warning: CONSTANT SPOILERS AHEAD!*

I happen to be an absolute sucker for a good bit of foreshadowing, I think if it’s done well it’s one of the best literary techniques out there, so it’s something I always like to try and be on the look out for when I read. With books that I go back and reread, in this case many many times (seriously I’ve never specifically counted but I’m pretty sure I’m at over ten times each for the duology, it’s ridiculous), I like to find the things I didn’t realise were foreshadowing the first time round. When rereading six of crows and crooked kingdom, I realised that a lot of the things I expected to be foreshadowing didn’t actually come to fruition whilst other, seemingly less important, details were the actual foreshadowing. I LOVE IT! It’s genius, because it leaves the reader worrying about one thing so they’re too distracted to realise the groundwork is being laid for something else. But you know what that makes me think of? Kaz’s ideology of “What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet? […] Tell him you’re going to steal his watch,” and “you have to let the mark feel like he’s won”. Leigh Bardugo literally cons us, and she tells us that she’s doing it in Crooked Kingdom when the group are certain that they know where Inej is being kept, but Kaz says “Too obvious. He’s treating us like marks”. GENIUS

So I compiled a few of my favourite examples (in no particular order), if you know of any I’ve missed please add more I would love to see them!!

The cannon at the Ice Court. When the Crows first arrive in Djerholm they see a cannon built into the the cliff face, a defence mechanism for the Court, and Kaz says what might be one of my favourite underrated lines of his: “I’ve broken into banks, warehouses, mansions, museums, vaults, a rare book library, and once the bedchamber of a visiting Kaelish diplomat whose wife had a passion for emeralds. But I’ve never had a cannon shot at me”. Jesper jokes that “there’s something to be said for novelty” but then continues to say that a cannon would be useless against a ship as small as theirs and that it’s designed for “invading armadas”. They don’t mention the cannon again, but it stuck in my mind when I first read it as a looming threat, a reminder that the danger wouldn’t end when they left the court. So when they arrived in the harbour was I expecting soldiers, or a heartrender, or for Nina to take parem? Nope, I was too busy worrying about the schooner being blown to pieces - especially when the Crows all have such specific painful and/or traumatic experiences linking to water, with 4 out of 6 of them being drowning related. But that isn’t to say that the waiting soldiers at the dock weren’t foreshadowed. All the way through Leigh Bardugo constantly reminds us that Matthias had never seen black protocol in action, and that his time in the prison sector had been brief, but she lulls us into a false sense of security by letting us believe that the secret bridge onto the White Island was all Matthias was hiding. We trust him by this point, so we don’t expect anything to be different to what he’s told us, even though this is an aspect he couldn’t possibly have predicted. Bonus points for the fact that Nina’s poor well-being in the aftermath of the drug is foreshadowed by a joke at the awful Inn they go to before the job; the food is disgusting and she says “when I don’t want to eat, you know there’s a problem”, and in Crooked Kingdom it’s many times emphasised that she’s unhealthily losing weight and her appetite has vastly decreased, with Matthias buying her chocolate biscuits “in the hopes she’d eat something”.

The poison pill. Leigh Bardugo worked very hard in Crooked Kingdom to make us think that Nina might die. We went into that book knowing there was a strong possibility that she wouldn’t come out the other side; we knew very little about how she was coping with parem withdrawal at the end of soc, but we had seen around a minimum of five grisha being destroyed by the drug so far. (That’s a guess I haven’t actually counted). So we went in with the idea that she was already in a precarious situation, and even though we begin to see her regain herself she struggles throughout the novel both physically and mentally in the aftermath of the drug. Matthias begins to dream of being lost on the ice in the worst storms known to Fjerda, knowing that she was out there somewhere and that he could not reach her. This sounds like it’s foreshadowing her death. Then when the pair go to the Ravkan embassy, Tamar gives Nina a small yellow pill that Genya made; she explains that it kills instantly and painlessly, saying “we all have them” to make sure they cannot be drugged and enslaved by the Shu government, who are hunting for grisha with the Khergud at the time. Matthias is terrified by this, but Nina just slips it into her pocket without a second thought. At that moment I thought that Nina would almost take the pill only to be stopped by someone else, because it felt too obvious that it would kill her, but I did wonder if the Khergud would be the ones to stop her and so she would still be lost. But the pill never gets mentioned again, except when the Dime Lions come for Nina at Sweet Reef and she briefly remembers that it’s still in her pocket. Then never again. And Matthias’ dreams were, of course, actually foreshadowing the FESTIVAL OF PAIN AND TORTURE that is chapter 40.

Mr Crimson. I’m so glad you like my Mr Crimson idea! Basically I posted saying I think that he represents death in the novels and I’ve also talked before about how I think the Komedie Brute costumes that the characters usually adopt are representative of their character; Kaz the Madman, Nina the Lost Bride, Inej and Wylan the Grey Imp, and Jesper and Matthias Mr Crimson. I won’t go into detail about all of them but if you’re interested the post is on my page, but with the idea that Mr Crimson represents death it’s very important to me that, although all of them wear his cloak at least once, he is the only Komedie Brute character taken on by Jesper and Matthias (at least to my recollection, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong). So of course I would argue that Matthias taking on the image in Crooked Kingdom foreshadows his death, but in that case what does Jesper’s represent? I came up with two options but I actually think you could combine them into one: it’s a red herring to make us align him with the literal death of Matthias, whilst actually foreshadowing the metaphorical death that his addiction and mental well-being are driving him towards as he tries desperately to stop them - in his own words to Colm “I’m dying anyway, Da, I’m just doing it slow”

Oh god sorry that this is yet another long post I hope y’all enjoyed this enough for it to be worth the time it takes for you to read all my ramblings 😭

Tagging people who asked for this one in the replies to my essay titles post - @the-magnificunt @flerkenkiddingme @luridorangeandviolentviolet @snowblack-charcoalwhite

#grishaverse #leigh bardugo #six of crows #crooked kingdom #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #nina zenik #jesper fahey #matthias helvar #wylan van eck #kanej #wesper #helnik #overanalysis #books #book #essay

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time-is-restored · 1 year

Text

okay like listen i know a lot of people have been talking abt this specific aspect of 3x3 already but. im just having a bit of a moment w the amount of lgbt ppl who saw trent's expression at the end there, and like. Knew.

like to be clear i am aware that at this point trent being gay is, at best, subtext + fanon. its incredibly beloved subtext, but its entirely possible that it could get blown out of the water in the coming episodes. but within the reading of trent being a gay man, seeing colin in that terrifying moment of exposure + vulnerability... that look says So much. its fear, its worry, its an instinctive protective response. its helplessness, its shame from feeling powerlessness, its the grim certainty that comes from knowing just how much is at stake.

(cw: discussion of homophobia + discrimination below. its long. i very much rambled.)

bc the thing that i personally keep coming back to is like. everyone on the team is colin's friend - his family, even, according to the themes of the show. the show is literally about the team + staff working together to break down their toxic/unhealthy behaviours and build up a culture of trust + respect. that's why i think it's so significant that while isaac is the one to use the word gay pejoratively, he's also the one checking in on colin when he gets moved to the bench. he's arguably colin's closest friend at the club! and that's not enough. the fact that the richmond club is made up of demonstrably good and well-intentioned people isn't enough.

don't get me wrong, its fucking terrifying + awful being closeted around ppl who are ACTIVELY bigoted and cruel and who u KNOW would be nothing less than awful to if u were out. but the uncertainty of being around people you love, and not knowing what would happen if you told them? of never truly being sure of your place in the dynamic, since there's always that risk hanging over your head? its exhausting, and terrifying.

because what if they aren't accepting? even avoiding the worst case scenario where his bosses (the coaches, higgins, rebecca - hell, even keely) don't outright cut his career short, he's obviously extremely aware of how being on the outs with the team could lead to his life being made miserable. he was harassing nate himself! and, again, putting aside the (very real! he's a football player! he spends half of his time in a locker room!!!) threat of physical violence, we JUST saw how quickly a member of the team can be shunned + labelled as an outsider (and in the context of this arc, i rlly don't think its a coincedence that trent, specifically, was the one to experience that treatment). and that's without even getting STARTED on the absolute nightmare britain's press + papparazi would be if they put a target on his back (the show has spared no gory detail for their treatment of rebecca + ted, after all).

this is the type of weight colin's been carrying around for the past three seasons. and trent, in that split second before he looked away and continued walking, must've felt it all right along with him. colin works for the fucking premier league in fucking britain. it's harder to think of a workplace LESS hospitable to anything other than the most cishetero, toxic, hyper conformist displays of masculinity.

and that's what fucking GETS me abt the reading where trent is gay! because in the exact same moment where trent would be feeling such a sudden sense of connection + solidarity w colin (you are not alone!!! im here too! i see you! i know you!), there comes the crushing weight of wanting to protect him, and not knowing if you can. trent may be a notoriously incisive + unflinching reporter, but w/ all of his power + armour stripped away now that he's no longer with the independent, it's damningly obvious that trent doesn't have anything close to real power at richmond. if they wanted to make colin's life hell, what could he really do to stop them? again: they're fucking footballers. he's only even allowed at the club on ted's word, a word which could presumably be revoked at any time.

i just. the fear. the guilt. the shame. and above all, the desperate, heart aching need to keep another member of the community safe, even with the odds so blatantly stacked against you both.

and like. idk. to me that is the point of this scene. i think whether you've been in trent's position, or colin's, or neither, the vast majority of us went through a very similar emotional journey when we saw colin exposed like that. love -> fear -> protectiveness. and its an urge so strong, ppl are (lightheartedly, for the most part) threatening the Literal Writers of the show! like, the fact that rn there are SO many people out there tweeting + liveblogging and threatening trent, threatening isaac, threatening the WRITERS - threatening literally anyone and everyone over the CHANCE that any of them will hurt colin/out him/expose him to homophobia in any way? like, yes, colin isn't real. but i'd like to hope that that solidarity is.

and just to be clear, ted lasso is ultimately a comedy show. while it has never shied away from frankly portraying dark subject matter, i don't think this story will have an unhappy ending. but if this arc comes with any takeaway at all, i just really fucking hope that its about how that solidarity is what we all need to embrace + run towards, rather than try and stifle. and that colin is fully + unconditionally supported by his community, whoever that may be.

#cw homophobia #ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso meta #colin hughes #trent crimm #can you tell im having a very normal time abt this episode and its reception.#[tears streaking down my face] so normal. comically normal even.

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bluehwale · 2 years

Text

not what i wanted, but what we need | c.s.

summary. are breakups usually this hard? you don't know the answer to that – choi san is your first love and your first ever heartbreak.

pairing. idol! san x trainee! reader

word count. 1k ish

genre. don't be fooled by the header because this is ANGST (my fave genre <3 don't ask <3), established relationship! breakup! that's it. just angst. san cried. you cried. yeah.,, i wrote this while listening to day6's so let's love so it'd probably heighten your reading experience if you listen to it as well

note. this is my first ever writing since i was 13 so pls ! lower ! your ! expectations ! i wrote this in one sitting and it's like three am so forgive me if you notice any grammatical errors,,,, ily, hope u enjoy!! (psssst btw,, my asks are open for just about anything rlly)

masterlist

"Don't say that."

"_____, listen to me," San pleads, desperately clinging onto his hold on your wrists that you're struggling to escape from, frantically shaking your head over what he just said. "Please. Listen to me."

If his previous statement didn't already painfully clutch at your chest, the sight in front of you definitely would. It's a rare occurence to see the boy cry – not because he lacks the emotional bandwidth to do so, but because he strives to always be the source of joy for others around him. Seeing him strain himself to not let the gathered tears on his waterline fall forces the lump in your throat to grow in size, lodging a sick feeling in your chest that worsens the shortness of your breath. Still, you won't, can't, let him go without putting up a fight. "I won't hear you. You don't mean that."

You don't even notice the tears that slipped out your eyes until San shifts to place his thumbs on each side of your cheek to wipe them away. The corner of his lips curl into a shaky smile as his pupils trace over every detail of your face, as if this would be the last time he gets to see you.

"We both know this day would come," he softly starts, gently brushing his thumb back and forth in hopes of comforting you. Much to your distaste, your body instinctively reacts as it always does to his touch; calming down your rapid breaths to a slower pace. "We're not supposed to last and you know that."

There's a crack to his voice as he said it, as if he himself understood perfectly the implication of his words but refuses to let the fact that it's happening right now sink in. His head tilts to the side as he brings his hand to caress the underside of your face and pull you closer to him. His smile morphs into a crushed expression at a closer look of your face, the realization that he'll probably never get used to the absence of you and your warmth causing a tick to his jaw.

"But I love you," you say, hoping the three words reign enough as a reason to make him stay. You edge closer to him, feeling your hands inch to wrap underneath his arm and rest your head against his chest, memorizing the thrum of his heartbeat.

"I love you," you repeat.

"So do I. So do I, angel. I love you so much, you have no idea." San cradles the back of your head to his chest, placing his chin atop your head, letting your bodies bask in each other's embrace.

"But we know we'll get tired of this. The hiding, the distance, the waiting," he continues. "We could barely keep up with video calls and texts while I'm away, and with your upcoming debut, we'll barely have any time for that."

As much as you hate to admit it, he's right. Ever since his debut a couple months ago, you barely see each other due to his busy schedule and him flying overseas. You can see through the exhaustion he tries to hide in video calls when he forces himself to stay awake just to see you. You're so unimaginably happy for him to finally achieve his dream of debuting, but a selfish part of you hates it for taking him away from you.

But you get it. You understand. You have the same dream as his after all.

You peer up at him, your teary eyes unblinking while you drink in his soft eyes and prominent dimples as he flashes you a small smile. The silence tells him that you agree to what he said, as much as it pains you.

"So this is it then?" you whisper, grasping the back of his shirt tightly, in fear of eventually having to let it go. To let him go.

"We'll still be there for each other," San rasps, a choked out sound that barely escapes his throat. He's trying his hardest to hold back his tears and puts up a show of maintaining the smile on his face that you know is for your sake. To show you that everything is going to be alright. That, maybe, just as this relationship isn't meant to last, then this break wouldn't last either. "I'll always be there for you. Whenever you need me. I'm here."

This is goodbye.

You feel yourself losing your composure again at his words, your features strained and breathing ragged. A choked laugh erupts from you as you sniffle, using the underside of your wrist to wipe away at your eyes and backing away from his hold. "San, you're making me cry harder."

San internally frowns at the removal of your body from being molded against his, but lets out a chortle at your remark for the sake of maintaining a semblance of normalcy. "Sorry for that."

You look at the man in front of you, the only man you've ever known to love. You don't think you'll ever stop loving him.

"I'll always love you," San wins the unspoken race of saying it first, provoking you to playfully roll your still teary eyes at him which he smiles at. "I'll bring you everywhere with me, right here." he grasps at the left side of his chest – at his heart. "You'll always have a place in me."

"You're everything to me," he breathes.

"You are to me too," you mutter softly. You then jokingly bring your fist to punch at his upper arm, eliciting a dramatized groan from him. "Don't forget about me now that you're famous."

Translation: I'll always love you too.

His curled eyes remain hollow even though he showcases a wide grin at your teasing and its underlying meaning, his dimples carving deeper into his skin. He's back to adopting the cheery persona he's used to, although he knows he'll never be the same. "Shut up, you know I'll always be your number one fan."

Translation: I'll wait for you. For us to happen again. Someday.

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hearts4robs · 3 months

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Hi, I wanted to request a marauders era matchup!

My name is Ollie, short for oliver, i use he/they/she pronouns and im 18. Im queer and have a preference for men. I am also from the netherlands!

My personality type is infp, and to go into more detail:

Im usually more shy in at the start, but can get quite talkative when i warm up to people. Im more of a listener though.

I love singing, reading, writing daydreaming, baking and making art.

My love language is physical touch, i love hugs or sitting next to someone and having our knees or shoulders touch. Laying on someone's shoulder is a big yes for me i love it.

I struggle a lot with my feelings and communicating them, but im getting better.

I have social anxiety and autism which can make social interactions and parties and such things difficult for me.

My ideal date is difficult. I've never been on a date before so its hard to judge. I think I'd like going to a coffee shop, maybe stargazing or going to an arcade. The ideal date for me is something relaxing where i can get to know the other person well. I want it to be intimate.

My ideal type is also difficult. I've never really dated anyone (im going to be a virgin until retirement i swear). I think I'd probably just like someone who makes me feel seen and appreciated, who reminds me I'm loved and helps me feel less self-conscious.

My favourite tropes would probably have to be friends to lovers and mutual pining. Im a sucker for hurt to comfort.

Physical appearance stuff:

5'6, bit chubby, pretty darn pale skin, short straight brown hair that i usually tuck behind my ears, grey eyes with glasses, black nosering in my left nostril, L and R tattooed on my wrist (yes for left and right lol). I mostly wear skater or cottagecore style clothes, usually dark and earthy colours with the occasional blue and red.

Hope thats enough (or not too much lol)

Have a great day :)

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝

“Hold my hand, sweetheart. It’s okay.” James reassures, blindly waving his hands around behind his back for you to grab.

Your hands finds James’s and his warm hands immediately dwarf yours. He pushes through the crowd, making sure you’re right behind him.

James smelt of alcohol, but he still seemed grounded as he lead you out of the Gryffindor common room and up the stairwell. The party continued at the bottom of the stairs.

James let’s go of your hand and holds your face in his hands, finally facing you probably.

“What’s the matter, handsome? Too loud?” James questions, moving his hands over your ears. You don’t answer, your throat was tight. He just nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re okay.” He murmurs against your temple.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t give me that, you’re okay!” James assures you by pulling you into a tight squeeze.

“What do you say to a cuddle with that weighted blanket we bought last week?”

James struggles to repress his smile when you nod. Oh, he was so up for a lazy cuddle.

Headcanons:

James learned morse code and basic sign language to communicate with you when everything was too much.

James is such a physical touch/quality type kind of guy, and taking you for a walk to Hogsmead for a coffee + browsing date is an every other week occurrence

He’s a yapper. You know everything there is to know about quidditch. Whenever you read or do anything that doesn’t make James the center of your attention, he yaps.

Writes you dumb notes whenever he can. Like, not cute. Dumb.

i rlly hope you like this🫶i’m SO SORRY for how delayed it is, i’m only just now getting back into the flow of writing.

#★ robins match up event! ★#★ robins events ★#james potter x reader #match up #★ match up event! ★#james potter x gn!reader #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter comfort #marauders #marauders era #marauders era x reader #marauders james potter #james potter marauders

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vasito-de-leche · 2 months

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Hello!😄, I admire the way you write ✍️The way u never mischaracterized characters and the way you write them accurately is fascinating to read for ,and how you also took focus on small details about the character heck im starting to believe you work on the game R1999, if may I ask if you could write about Six from R1999 with a timid S/O or about a self-aware au of Six ? It had been my obsession of him after he came out and with his story making it more fascinating and made me attract towards him more

;R1999 6 - Self-Aware AU

Headcanons about how 6 would act upon becoming self-aware. Related to this Self-Aware AU post.

tysm for the kind words! I rlly like overthinking and overanalyzing stuff <3

I'll do the self-aware AU for this post to match the other one posted recently about 37, but feel free to send another ask if you'd still like 6 with a timid S/O!

There is a lot to be discussed about 6 and how all four characters of the 1.4 update contrast and complement each other so wonderfully, but I have a lot of trouble narrowing down what exactly I want to talk about here and what I should save for a proper analysis of the characters and the way I interpret them. So as usual, I ask that you guys bear with me with these trains of thoughts!

For starters, in my opinion, 6 is a very good narrative foil to 37.

Both focus on alienation and isolation from their respective communities, both are characters that struggle with the concept of fate, and both were born knowing their numbers--the key difference is the way each tackles this piece of information.

As discussed before in her own post, 37 does not question the reason why she's 37: like 210 says, "she stumbled upon fate at birth," and did not go through the same process of having to figure out one's number like the rest do. When it comes to 6, it's slightly different but the fundamentals are the same: he knows the number he will be assigned, and yet this revelation is not part of a natural process, it's something that us forced upon him and his family.

What I'm trying to say is that 37 and 6 weren't given the choice of discovering their soul numbers, and thus lack the most important part: the understanding of their own lives and selves. Compare this to 210, who became "too predictable" upon finding out his own soul number, or Sophia, who has clearly developed a very complex relationship with her own friends because of the inferiority and feelings of inadequacy she feels not knowing her own number.

And this is when the contrast between the two become clear: 37 is partially isolated from her community because she doesn't understand fate, nor the importance of one's journey, she doesn't respect the discovery of one's number. 6 is partially isolated from his community because no one else but him is able to see the concept of fate--or the Revelation--as a negative thing. His entire life, his entire bloodline is defined by fate and the Revelation, but only he understands the burden and the pain such knowledge entails.

Because only he has seen the way this Revelation takes over his loved ones, until they become strangers, mere vessels for infinite knowledge and bound to their role as perfect, eternal leaders. His character event shows the radical change in his aunt once she receives the Revelation and 6's fears of his entire self being rewritten once he receives it as well.

It's important to note that the moment Atticus becomes a proper 6 and receives the revelation happens on the very same day that everyone on the boat becomes a victim of the "Storm." Sophia's father and 37's mother were on that boat--but so was Alma, the current 6 at the time and Atticus' aunt. This event is crucial for all characters, as it cements their chosen paths: it's the study of the Emanation for 37, to continue her mother's research.

It's the day 6 will receive the Revelation and see if his efforts to prepare for it will amount to something.

And yet we know that 6 was able to withstand this Revelation without his entire self being washed away by the infinite amount of knowledge. We know this because we see him retain his hermit-like behaviour in the main story, avoiding people and preferring peace and quiet. We know this because, at the very end of this event, he says that the revelation is "just as simple as it is."

37 does not understand fate, but she doesn't fight it either because studying it won't change the fact that her soul number is 37. 6 understands and once feared fate, and he fought to resist it because his entire life, his memories, his personality and essence were at risk. I also really love that small detail about how 1.4 focuses on Plato's allegory of the cave, with 37 and 6 being put on this pedestal as those who witnessed the truth and came back to save the others--and yet, these two characters needed people OUTSIDE of the island to help them with their respective journeys (37 with Vertin, and 6 with Sophia). It just clicks so right to me!

In the context of a Self-Aware AU, I like to think that the self-awareness is something that comes with the Revelation. That every 6 before Atticus himself realized the truth of their world, similar to how 37 sees this self-awareness as yet another eternal truth. And because the number 6 is meant to represent harmony and perfection, they understand more than anyone that to ensure the peace in Apeiron, they cannot allow others to know the truth. Think of it as the whole deal with Pythagoras and irrational numbers--the discovery of irrational numbers ruined the whole system.

I think that a much younger 6 would've been distraught at this information, to know that Alma was the only person who was "real" and that he began to drift away from her because he couldn't recognize her anymore. But now, after receiving his Revelation and becoming the new leader, he might be more focused on appreciating life as it is. Why would he be bothered by knowing everything so far has been a script? He's already been haunted by fate his whole life, this is, in the end, the same thing. Of course, 6 is a philosopher in his own right, despite knowing pretty much everything there is to know, I think he would like to ponder about the more existential issues and topics that come with self-awareness.

I also like to think that his self-awareness and the Revelation come with knowing how the story will develop, at least in relation to Apeiron. He knows of Vertin's arrival, he knows of Arcana's schemes, he knows that by the end, Apeiron will be revealed to the human world. 6 believes it's impossible to change the course this game and its story, and the best thing he can do is help everyone prepare for it--I like to think that's why he specifically sent 37 to greet Vertin and the rest!

When it comes to finding out about the Player, I already said in 37's post that it would be very nice if she could see the player, but not hear them. And to contrast that, I wanted 6 to hear the player, but not see them.

The Player's existence is the one thing that 6 cannot pinpoint nor rationalize. He listens so very attentively when you speak, and he quickly realizes that you are not part of this infinite stream of knowledge from his ancestors, you're ... Just a person. What are you trying to teach him, if that is even your goal?

At first, I can see him struggle with this strange presence interrupting his very much needed alone time, choosing to remain silent until you go away, but he would grow to find it comforting, similar to his friendship with Sophia when they were children. You are an outsider, you're not part of this little world he lives in--you can offer a refreshing and different perspective. Once he's used to this new change, perhaps he will speak again, either to ponder out loud about your existence or monologue about whatever might be occupying his mind. Unlike 37, he wouldn't tell a single soul of your existence, largely because he believes it's something unique to him, entirely unaware that there's someone out there behind the screen rooting for him.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 6 #6 #self aware au

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