#but it is a mess that makes perfect sense

[mattsturnioloz]

Then I lost you.

Summary: Matt's career as a youtuber takes a toll on his 4 year relationship with his girlfriend, putting it on hold. Will it ever be the same again?

Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Warnings: angst, mentions of anxiety, unresolved angst (maybe)

A/N: (guys this is my first fic so please bear with me😭 l would love some feedback or tips though!!)

I was sitting on the couch scrolling through my phone and channel surfing, waiting for my boyfriend, Matt, to get back from filming a car video with his brothers, Chris and Nick. But over the course of the last couple of months, Matt has been distant and there was a rather uncomfortable feeling sitting in my chest. He would make up excuses as to why he couldn't hang out with me like he was filming, editing or streaming. It made me overthink. Did I do something? Does he still love- No, of course he still loves me. Right?

It was all too much and it gave me anxiety. Sure, I understand his career as a Youtuber can be a handful but I can't help but feel a bit neglected and it makes me feel guilty.. I sit there thinking for a moment, taking in the cool autumn smell that roamed through the house, listening to the patter of the soft rain drops falling onto the windows, trying to think of a way that I could get Matt to spend time with me.

I decide to cook a nice dinner for matt and I or at least attempt to, so I stand up and I head to the kitchen and decide on some ravioli which takes me about an hour but I did it.

Flashback

"What are you gonna get to eat?" | asked Matt.

"I'm not sure.. you know for a fancy restaurant, you'd think they'd have a variety of options." He says before raising his eyebrow at me, showing me the menu and we both chuckle.

"Our first date and i'm already messing up huh?" He says with a nervous chuckle.

"What?? No! you're not messing up i'm having fun." I said with a smile, reaching over the table to hold his hand and he gave me a lighthearted smile.

"Ravioli is the only decent thing they got here, think i'll go with that." He says closing the menu. "See? It's not all that bad, I just so happen to love ravioli. I think I can go for some too.” I smile.

Present

I set up the table with bowls and utensils before making my way to the bathroom and realize that look a bummy mess so l spend the rest of the time I had left before he got back to make myself look at least a little presentable. I feel an overwhelming but nice sense of excitement to spend time with him again. I change into a casual but nice outfit and decide to do a simple and natural makeup look.

I soon hear the sound of the front door opening and chattering following behind it. I make my way out of the room to greet Matt who was laughing with chris and nick.

"Hey baby! How was filming??" | say almost too enthusiastically but I was too excited to keep my cool. "It was alright." He says nonchalantly, which makes me turn my happy demeanor down a notch.

Chris goes downstairs to get ready for something and Nick goes upstairs to do the same. Leaving matt and I alone which was perfect so I take the chance.

"I made-" before I could say anything Matt interrupted me. "Hey, me nick and chris are gonna go to top golf with madi, and nate so I might be home a little late." My heart sinks and i'm flushed with dread but I don't give up so easily.

"Well I actually made dinner for us.. I was hoping we could spend a little time together since we haven't in a while." | say fiddling with my necklace getting a bit anxious.

"I'm sure it's amazing baby but I should go get ready, Save me some yeah?" He says, placing a gentle kiss on my temple before he walks towards our shared bedroom to get ready.

I sit at the table where our food is now cold and I feel a lump in my throat followed by a cold sinking feeling in my chest.

658 words.

A/N: (This is sloppy and I kind of hate it, js wanted to try this out to see what yall think. if you guys like it, i'll keep writing, if not then im never writing again and since it's my first fic I kept it short but if you guys like it, i'll make the next parts longer 🫶🏼)

Taglist: @h3arts4harry @star-yawnznn @imwetforyourmom

[itneverendshere]

invisible string - r.c series (three) (+18)

pairing: pogue!rafe x kook!sweetheart!reader warnings: angst; smut; fluff. part one; part two

Rafe rarely ever fought with you. 

Sure, he’d thrown his weight around with just about everyone else, but with you?

He’d dropped the whole tough-guy bullshit months ago. Hell, he’d even cried in front of you, ugly sobbing and all. He didn’t let himself be that vulnerable with anyone else, but today... today he felt like his skin was too tight and he was two seconds away from losing it.

He didn’t understand why you were pushing so hard. You kept going, saying the same things over and over, and he was trying so damn hard to stay calm, but every word you said just felt like gasoline on a fire.

He wasn’t even mad at you, not really.

He was mad at everything else—at himself, at how nothing ever seemed to go right, at how he always felt one wrong move away from everything falling apart. And now you wanted to talk about it again, like you didn’t see how close he was to just snapping.

It felt like you didn’t get it. No matter how many times you two talked about it, you still thought there was some perfect world where you could just be together out in the open, like it was no big deal.

But it was a big deal. A huge fucking deal.

He leaned against the wall of the shed, arms crossed, just watching you. You looked so damn hopeful like he was really about to show up to your graduation party and stand next to you like some lost puppy. You had this big party planned at your place. Parents, family, all your Kook friends. The whole scene. And you wanted him there. Like your parents weren’t gonna lose their minds if they saw him anywhere near you.

He could practically see your dad’s face already, that look of disappointment or disgust or whatever the hell he’d call it.

Rafe wasn’t dumb. He knew his place around here.

And sure, you knew the basics too: you were heading off to college soon, your life was on this perfect, shiny path, and his...well, his was a whole mess in comparison. But it was like you couldn’t see the bigger picture. Or maybe you just didn’t want to.

You acted like everything between you two would stay the same, like you could just waltz into your new life with him still in it, like he could just follow you there. But Rafe knew better. You were leaving in four months, and that thought sat heavy in his chest every time he was around you now.

And here you were talking about the party again, like his presence there wouldn’t blow up everything.

He wanted to be there for you, more than anything, but not like that. Not surrounded by your perfect little world while he felt like an outsider, waiting for someone to call him out. It was like you didn’t even see the bomb that was about to go off if he stepped foot into your life like that.

“Are you listening to me?”

He ran a hand down his face, trying to hold onto whatever thread of control he had left. “I am listenin',” he muttered, though his voice came out harder than he meant.

“No, you’re not,” you said, a little firmer this time. "You’re shutting down again, like you always do when I bring this up."

He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want this to turn into some big blow-up. But damn, why couldn’t you just drop it for once? Why did you always have to dig, always push when he was hanging by a thread?

“Are coming tonight or not?” you asked for the millionth time, like it was no big deal. Just a party. “It’s nothing crazy.”

He let out a short laugh, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm. Yeah, right. “Like your dad’s not gonna lose his shit the second he sees me?”

“Rafe—” you started, but he already knew where this was going. Same conversation, different day.

You were standin’ there, looking at him with those big, hopeful eyes and it killed him. You were always calm, always trying to make sense of shit when sometimes there just wasn’t any sense to be made.

And right now, he didn’t have the patience for it.

He cut you off. “You really think it’s that easy? You think I can just show up, grab a drink, and blend in with your crowd like we’re in some damn movie? Tell everyone how ‘m your homeless boyfriend?”

You looked frustrated like you couldn’t wrap your head around why this was such a big deal. He wished you could see it from his side, but how could you? You weren’t a pogue.

You didn’t know what it was like being the guy no one wanted around anymore. Hell, he barely had anywhere to crash before you helped him out. And now, what? He was supposed to show up to your graduation party and pretend like he belonged?

He was getting worked up now. He knew it. But damn, how was he supposed to just walk into that house, standing next to you while everyone whispered about how he would be dragging you down?

“It’s my party,” you said, taking a step closer. “I don’t care what they think. I want you there.”

He clenched his jaw and looked away. You didn’t get it. This wasn’t just about your daddy or your friends or even you. It’s about the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he was always gonna be that guy they look at sideways like he wasn’t worth a dam.

“Yeah? And what happens when they start askin’ questions?” He asked, voice low, trying to keep the edge out of it. “When they find out we’ve been sneakin’ around for months? You think they’ll just be cool with that? You wanna throw all that away, for me?”

Your face tightened up, hurt showing in your eyes, and damn if that didn’t make his chest twist up inside. He hated seeing you like that.

“I’m just tired of pretending like I’m ashamed of you.”

That one hit hard, harder than he expected.

He dropped his head, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling like he was about to lose it. “M’ not doing this to hurt you,” he muttered, trying to pull himself back together. “I’m doing it ‘cause I care about you.”

He was protecting this.

You shook your head like you didn’t believe him. “No, you’re doing this ‘cause you think you’re protecting me from something that doesn’t even matter. None of this—my parents, the Kook bullshit—none of it matters to me.”

You didn’t curse often, but when you did, he knew you were upset. Rafe let out a frustrated sigh, looking down at his boots, the ones you’d bought him a month ago, kicking at some dirt on the ground. He hated this. Hated how you made it seem so simple. Like you could just snap your fingers, and everything would fall into place.

"Doesn't matter to you," he muttered, shaking his head. "But it matters to them. It matters to the people you gotta see every day. Your parents, your friends... hell, half the damn island. You think they won’t care? That they won’t look at you different if they see you with me?"

You were right there in front of him now, reaching out to touch his arm, but he tensed up, not ready for the comfort. Not when his head was a mess.

“I don’t care what they think. Why do you?"

That question. That damn question. It was always the same one, and he never had a good answer for it. He didn’t care what they thought, not about him.

But you? You deserved better. And even if you didn’t see it that way, he did.

“I care ‘cause you’re... you’re better than all that, alright?" His voice was gruff, trying to keep from saying too much, but it was getting harder. "You got your whole future lined up, you’re set. College, whatever the hell you wanna do. And then there's me, dragging you down with all my bullshit. You deserve—"

“I deserve to make my own choices,” you cut in, stepping even closer, so close now that he could feel the warmth of your skin, hear the frustration under your breath. “And I choose you. I don’t care about any of that other stuff. I want you there tonight. With me.”

The way you said it, it almost made him want to believe it. Almost.

Rafe clenched his jaw, eyes drifting up to meet yours. You really believed it, didn’t you? That this could work. That you two could just show up, be together, and it wouldn’t matter what anyone thought. Part of him wanted to grab onto that same hope, hold it tight, and say “fuck it” to everything else.

But the other part—the part that had seen how the world worked, how Kooks looked down on Pogues like him—knew better.

"Just 'cause you want it, doesn’t makes it real.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Like we can just walk in there and no one’s gonna give a shit that you’re standing next to me.”

You crossed your arms now, jaw set in that stubborn way that usually meant you weren’t backing down. “I don’t care anymore, Rafe. I’m tired of living by their rules. This is my life."

He felt a flare of anger burn in his chest. Not at you, but at the situation. At the fact that he couldn’t just be the guy you wanted him to be, the guy who could walk into that party and not feel like he was sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Yeah?” he snapped back, voice rough. “And what about next time, huh? What about the next party or when your dad finds out and says you’re not allowed to see me anymore. What then?”

You stared at him, eyes hard, like you were daring him to say more, but there was something else in your expression, something that made his throat tighten. "You’re just looking for an excuse," you said quietly. "You’re scared."

Maybe you were right. Maybe he was scared.

Scared that if he let himself believe this could work, he’d end up losing you in the end anyway. Scared that the moment you really saw how different your lives were, you’d leave, and he’d be the one standing there, broken.

“Can’t you just drop it?”

“You’re being mean.”

He wasn’t trying to hurt you—not really. But he didn’t know how else to get through your head, how to make you see what he saw.

“So what if I am. Maybe I need to be. You’re not listening to me.”

You didn’t flinch, didn’t back down, and that just pissed him off more. You should be mad. You should hate him for not just going along with this, for making it all so damn hard. But there you were, looking at him like you still believed in him. Like he was worth it. And fuck, that was the hardest part.

Your eyes were glassy, and he could see it—the hurt. The way you blinked fast, your lips pressed tight, like you were holding it all in, it killed him.

“You’re pushing me away,” you said, voice shaky as hell. “And I don’t get it. You’re actin’ like I’d be better off without you.”

He clenched his fists, feeling that familiar burn of frustration flare up. He didn’t want to yell at you.

Hell, he never wanted to make you cry, but you didn’t get it. Part of him wanted to shake you, make you see things the way he saw them. The other part? The part that hurt every time you talked about leaving, about how you had this whole future ahead of you... that part just wanted to pull you in and hold on tight.

He laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “Yeah? Well, someone needs to. 'Cause you’re blind if you think this ends with us living happily ever after.”

You flinched, like his words had hit you straight in the chest. And then, the tears came, and he couldn’t stop them this time. You wiped at your face, trying to hold it together, but he’d already done the damage.

He was falling apart right in front of you, and he hated that you had to see it. Hated that you were the only person who ever saw him like this.

He hated himself for saying it, but he couldn’t stop now. Couldn’t stop the truth from comin’ out, no matter how much it hurt. “You’re leavin’ in four months, and I’m still here. Still... me. And I’m not draggin’ you down with all my crap. You deserve better than that.”

You reached out, grabbing his arm, and the way you touched him made somethin’ inside him crack. “I don’t want better, Rafe. I want you.”

“Yeah?” He barked out a laugh, bitter and hollow. “And what happens when you’re gone? When you’re off at college, livin’ your life, and I’m still here, stuck in this place? You think this... whatever this is, is gonna last?”

Your voice broke a little when you spoke again. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m doin’ it ‘cause I care about you,” he said, voice dropping low, rough around the edges. “More than anything. But you... you got a future. You got everythin’ ahead of you. And me? I ain’t got nothin’ but a one-way ticket to nowhere.”

You were cryin’ now, and that damn near killed him. You never cried, not like this. “That’s not true. Why can’t you see that? I’m not leaving you behind.”

Rafe finally looked up, meeting your eyes, and he could see it—could see how much you meant it.

And damn, he wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, you were right. But he’d been around long enough to know how this world worked, and it never worked out for guys like him.

“I can’t be the one to ruin your life,” he said, stepping back, pulling away from your touch even though it felt like it was tearing him apart to do it. “I won’t.”

“Rafe,” you whispered, voice broken and pleading, but he shook his head.

“Just... let it go,” he muttered, turning his back to you. He couldn’t handle it anymore. Couldn’t handle seeing you hurt, knowing it was his fault. Knowing he was the reason your heart was breaking.

"Fine," you choked out, voice only just holding steady. "If you don’t want me there, then I’ll stop trying.”

You turned on your heel, storming off, but not before he saw your shoulders shake. 

Fuck.

That shit crushed him, but still, he didn’t move.

Just stood there, fists clenched, staring at the ground while you walked away from him. He knew he’d ruin the best thing that ever happened to him, he just didn’t expect it to happen this soon. He wanted to go after you, and say something to make it right, but what was the point? 

He always fucked it up somehow.

He leaned his head back against the shed, staring up at the sky, feeling like an absolute waste of space.

You had everything going for you—family, friends, a future—and what the hell did he have? Nothing but bad luck and a reputation that dragged behind him like a chain. He didn’t even know why you bothered with him sometimes. You were too good, too kind.

And he? He was the definition of a screw-up. Always saying the wrong thing, always ruining the good moments before they even had a chance to get started.

He slid down the wall until he was sitting in the dirt, head in his hands, wishing he could just be different. Wishing he didn’t care so much about what your dad thought or how your friends would whisper when you weren’t around. He wished he could just be the guy you saw, the guy you believed in.

Hours later, the party at your place was in full swing, and he knew you were there, trying to have a good time without him. He hadn’t shown up, of course. Just like he said he wouldn’t. Rafe stayed back, back in that stupid abandoned house, trying to tell himself this was for the best. 

He could hear the distant sound of music coming from your house, the laughter of your Kook friends echoing through the night air. It was the kind of party he never really belonged at—one where everyone showed up in their clean-cut clothes, fresh haircuts, and fancy cars. The kind of life he never had a shot at, not really. And here he was, stuck in the dirt, hands covered in grime, still trying to figure out why the hell you kept fighting for him.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew this was what was supposed to happen. You deserved to be there, with your people, not hanging around with someone like him. You’d be fine without him weighing you down. Hell, you’d probably be better off in the long run. He’d hurt you. He knew it. Saw it clear as day when you walked off, tears in your eyes, but he didn’t go after you. He didn’t know how.

But then his phone buzzed—the phone you had gotten him—and he looked down to see your name flashing on the screen. He stared at it for a second, his gut twisting, then picked up.

“Yeah?”

All he could hear on the other end was you crying. That soft, broken cry made his chest feel like it was caving in.

“Hey, hey,” he said quickly, standing up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t answer right away, just kept crying, and that was worse than anything you could’ve said. His heart was pummeling to the ground, and he was already on his feet, ready to head over before you even asked.

“Sweetheart,” he tried again, trying to keep himself from sounding as panicked as he felt. “What happened? Talk to me.”

You sniffled hard, trying to talk through the sobs. “Rafe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, your voice all shaky and broken.

He couldn’t stand to hear you like that, not when he knew it was his fault. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing now, feeling like a total jackass.

“Stop crying, darlin’,” he muttered, voice softer now. “I hate when you cry.”

“I’m just so upset,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. “I didn’t want us to fight like that. I just miss you.”

Rafe clenched his jaw, feeling like shit. He could hear the party still going in the background, but all you wanted was him. He knew that, but somehow he’d still managed to mess everything up.

“Where are you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“My room,” you muttered, “I couldn’t stay down there. I feel so stupid.”

His heart twisted, and before he even knew what he was doing, he was throwing on his jacket, heading out.

“I’m coming’ over,” he said, his voice firm.

“What?” you sounded surprised. “Rafe, you don’t have to—”

“I’m coming’,” he interrupted you, his voice low but serious. “Stay there. I’ll be there in a few.”

Twenty minutes later, he was sneaking around the side of your house, ducking behind bushes to avoid being seen. The party was still going, people everywhere, but all he cared about was getting to your window. He knew how to sneak into your room like the back of his hand by now. Too many months of practice.

He climbed through, landing quiet as a mouse, and saw you sitting on the edge of your bed, looking down at your hands. Your eyes were red from crying, and he felt that familiar guilt twisting in his gut.

When you looked up and saw him, you stood fast, like you couldn’t believe he was actually there.

Before he could say anything, you were in his arms, holding onto him tight, like you were scared he might disappear. Rafe held you, his chin resting on top of your head as you pressed into him, your fingers clutching at the back of his jacket like you didn’t want to let go. He knew he'd screwed up. He always did. But when you were there, clutching him like he was the only thing that mattered, it made him question everything he'd told himself.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your face buried in his chest, your body shakin’ from the sobs.

Rafe wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as he could, like he was trying to make up for every shitty thing he’d said. “You don’t gotta apologize, alrigh’?” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “This one’s on me.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, tears still in your eyes, and damn if it didn’t make him want to punch himself.

“I don’t care about the party or the people,” you practically whimpered, “I just want you, Rafe.”

He stared down at you, feeling’ that knot in his throat. He didn’t deserve you. He never had. But here you were, saying you wanted him anyway.

“I’m sorry for being a dick,” He exhaled, “I just... I don’t know how to do this right. I’m scared I’m just gonna hurt you.”

You shook your head, your hands resting on his chest. “You don’t have to protect me. I just want you to let me in.”

He swallowed hard. You were all he wanted, but damn if it didn’t scare the hell out of him sometimes.

Still, he wasn’t about to lose you. Not like this.

The warmth of you against him, the way you fit so perfectly into his chest—it made him feel like he might just be okay. Like maybe, for once, things didn’t have to be so damn complicated.

But that didn’t mean the doubts were gone. He pulled back just a little, enough to see your face, brushing a tear away from your cheek with his thumb.

 “You know I’m not good at this, right?” His voice was low, rough, like he was almost ashamed to say it. “I don’t wanna screw things up, but I don’t always know how to… be better.”

You looked up at him, your eyes still watery but soft, full of that same stubborn affection you always had for him. “I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to let me in when it gets hard.”

He let out a slow breath, trying to wrap his head around how you could want him—still want him—after all the times he’d messed up. “I’m tryin’, alright?” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “I don’t wanna push you away, but sometimes it feels like that’s the only thing I know how to do.”

You gave him this sad little smile, like you knew exactly what he meant. “I don’t care if you push sometimes,” you conceded, “Just—don’t leave. Don’t make me feel like I’m in this alone.”

That hit him harder than anything.

He realized then, as much as he was scared of dragging you down, you were scared of him disappearing. No matter how fucked up things got, no matter how much he doubted himself or the future, he wasn’t about to let you slip away.

You bit your lip, like you were debating whether or not to say something, and for a second, Rafe felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“I love you, Rafe.”

Those three words hit him harder than anything ever had. Harder than all the fights, the doubts, the shit he carried around like it was glued to his skin. His heart just about stopped in his chest, and he just stared at you like you’d knocked the wind out of him.

“What—what did you just say?” His voice came out hoarse like he didn’t trust what he heard.

“I love you,” you said again, a little more sure this time. You smiled, but your eyes were still searching his, like you were waiting for him to say something back.

Like maybe he wouldn’t.

His head started spinning, like the room had just tilted sideways.

He could feel his pulse hammering in his throat, and suddenly he wasn’t sure if he was about to pass out or just drop to his knees. How the hell were you standing there, looking at him, and saying that?

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He felt his knees wobble for a second, like his legs were going to give out. Jesus Christ, get it together, he thought, trying to pull in a breath, but it felt like the air got stuck halfway down his throat.

“You love me?” His voice cracked, and he hated how insecure he sounded, how unsure. But it was like his brain couldn’t process those words coming from you.

You nodded, stepping closer, your hand slipping back to his chest, right over his heart. “Yeah. I love you.”

Rafe’s heart was pounding so hard now, he thought it might actually explode. He blinked, then swallowed hard, still trying to make sense of what was happening.

It wasn’t like he didn’t believe you—it was just, how the hell did he deserve that? Deserve you?

“Shit…” He whispered, almost to himself, and suddenly his legs felt weak again. “I... I—fuck, I don’t know what to say.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

But he did.

He needed to say something, anything, to let you know what that meant to him. His throat felt tight, like he might choke if he didn’t get it out.

 “I—I love you too.” It came out fast, like he was scared if he didn’t say it quick enough, you might take it back. "I love you, too. So fucking much, I don't even know what to do with it half the time.”

He looked down at you, and for once, he didn’t care if he was being soft or vulnerable or any of that shit that scared him before.

He just wanted you to know how much he needed you, how much you meant to him.

And as soon as the words were out, you smiled, this big, radiant smile that lit up your whole face, and Rafe felt like he might actually faint this time.

His heart was gonna burst wide open. He pulled back a little, still holding onto you, his forehead resting against yours. 

“You don’t know how much I needed to hear that,” he muttered, “I’ve never—no one’s ever...”

You smiled, brushing your thumb over his cheek, and it was so gentle, so full of love, that it almost knocked him off his feet all over again.

“You deserve it,” you reminded him again, “You deserve to be loved.”

There you were, always telling him of what he was deserving of. 

“I love you,” he whispered again, just to make sure you knew. He buried his face in your neck, his arms enveloping you tighter than before.

You loved him. You loved him. And he loved you.

It felt like the confession had lightened up something inside you.

He’d thought about how it would go, the first time you two would be together like that. In his head, it was always this big moment, something special. 

He was rough around the edges, sure, but he wanted to do it right. He wanted it to be perfect for you. He'd even thought about planning something out—candles, a slow build, maybe a weekend when no one was around.

His breath was ragged as he felt you pull him closer, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. He’d thought about this moment a thousand times—hell, probably more—but never like this.

Not rushed, not with everyone downstairs, and definitely not with you looking at him like you couldn’t wait any longer. You kissed him like you couldn’t stop, fingers already slipping beneath the fabric, making it hard for him to think straight.

“Sweetheart...” his voice was low with that familiar southern drawl, like he was trying to hold it all together. “You sure ‘bout this? We got a house full of people downstairs.”

You kissed him harder, pulling his shirt over his head, and he nearly lost his mind right then and there. He wanted to slow down, make this moment perfect for you, but the way you were all over him? It made him forget every plan he’d ever had. He let out a shaky breath, his hands settling on your waist, trying to ground himself. 

Jesus, this wasn’t how he’d imagined it.

He wanted to slow down, wanted to make this moment last, but you were already working your hands up his chest, and it was driving him insane.

“I don’t care,” you muttered against his lips, your breath hot and all desperate.

Damn, if you weren’t the most stubborn, determined girl he’d ever met. But he loved that about you. Loved how you always knew exactly what you wanted. And right now? It was clear you wanted him. His hands slid up your back, fingers tracing the curves he’d been dreaming about for months.

Rafe let out a groan, trying his best to keep it together, but you were making it damn near impossible. “I was... I was tryin’ to be romantic for once,” he mumbled as he looked into your eyes, practically begging himself to slow down, to make this right. “Was thinkin’ candles, music... not with your whole damn family downstairs, baby.”

You laughed, breathless, and pulled him even closer, your body against his. “You don’t want me?” There was a hint of challenge in your voice like you didn’t believe him.

His blue eyes went wide. “What? ‘Course I want you,” he said, almost shocked you’d even think that. “‘I’ve always wanted you. You gotta know that.”

You looked up at him and he nearly came on the stop, “Then stop holding back.”

Every last bit of control he had glided right out of his hands. You were there, right in front of him, pulling him into you, like you didn’t care about anything else. All his plans, all his ideas of some perfect first time? Out the damn window.

 “You... you look so damn beautiful. This dress— I can’t get over how good you look in it.”

You giggled, and for a moment, the heat between you two softened into something tender, something that made his chest ache.

He loved that sound. Loved the way it lit up your face, like you had no idea just how much you meant to him.

He kissed you again, slow at first like he was trying to be a gentleman, but the way you kissed him back, so eager, so damn hungry—it broke whatever restraint he had left. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, feeling the soft fabric of your dress against his skin, and it sent a jolt through him, making him lose track of everything but you. The room felt too small, and all he could think about was how long he’d been waiting for this—for you.

His hands trembled as he reached for the hem of your dress, hesitating for a second before pulling it up, revealing the soft skin of your waist. He was trying to stay calm, to keep his mind from racing, but it felt damn near impossible with the way you were looking at him.

You were everything.

He swallowed hard, “I... I wanna take my time with you,” he murmured, like he was scared he’d crack the spell between you if he spoke too loud. His fingers brushed over your skin, gentle, as he lifted your dress the rest of the way, eyes flicking up to yours, searching for any sign that you wanted him to stop.

You didn’t.

If anything, you moved even closer, your breathing coming out in quick, giddy breaths. There was something endearing about it—like neither of you really knew what you were doing, but you both wanted it so badly. You were learning together.

Your dress fell to the floor, and he just stared for a moment, blue eyes all wide, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “Goddamn..”

His hands hovered over your skin, like he didn’t want to rush, but you were yanking him impossibly closer, urging him on. He began to move again, gliding slowly over your bare skin, every touch reverent, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he wasn’t careful enough.

He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands still roaming over your body, savoring every inch of you. The soft sighs you made only pushed him further, made him forget everything except how much he wanted to make you feel good, how much he needed this to be good for you.

His was light-headed as he whispered your name, “God, I love you— I don’t think you even know how much.”

“I think I do,” you whispered back, lips brushing his neck. “Show me.”

He reached for the delicate straps of your bra and pulled them down your shoulders, like he was unwrapping the most precious thing in the world.

He paused for a second, looking into your eyes, making sure you were still with him, still wanting this as much as before.

You nodded softly, your lips parted, your breath coming out in shallow gasps. His fingers found the clasp, fumbling slightly, and he cursed under his breath with a rough chuckle, “Sorry, baby… it’s just—damn, I’m mess right now.”

You beamed at him, all the tension melting away, “You’re doing’ just fine,” you whispered, urging him to keep going.

With one final tug, the clasp gave way, and your bra slipped off, falling to the floor. Rafe’s eyes darkened as he took you in, his mouth going dry. He swallowed hard like he couldn’t believe this was real.

His hands moved steadily, fingertips grazing your bare skin as he lowered them to your waist, where the last piece of fabric still clung to your body. He hesitated for just a second, his eyes coming back to yours, silently asking for permission.

 “I want you.”

That was all it took.

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down, savoring every inch of you as you were revealed to him. He let out a low groan, as he finally saw you—all of you.

He needed to remind himself this was real. That you were his. “Fuck,” His voice was filled with awe. "You’re perfect.”

Your fingers drifted lower, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and you felt noticed how his body tensed under your touch, his muscles rippling as he tried to keep himself calm.

“C’mon,” you purred, just teasing as you pulled at the button, “I think it’s your turn now.”

Rafe’s lips curved into that cocky grin he knew you loved, "You sure ‘bout that, sweetheart?" 

You nodded, small hands already working to unbutton his jeans. He almost let out a prayer, biting his lip as you slipped them down, his body shivering as your fingers brushed against his skin.

His jeans fell to the floor, and you took a step back, admiring him like he was worth all that staring. Rafe stood there in nothing but his boxers, chest heaving with all that uncontrollable love he felt for you.

His eyes were locked on yours, full of that same intense need, but there was something tender in them too, he still couldn’t quite believe you were here, undressing him like this. But you were real, standing there with him and undressing him like you wanted every single piece of him. 

With a soft smile, you reached up, fingers twitching at the waistband of his boxers, your eyes never leaving his. The way you looked at him as you slid them down slowly, revealing every inch of him? He was never letting that go.

Rafe just stood there for a moment, completely bare, his body a little rigid with anticipation, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as you took him in.

"You're perfect too," your eyes roamed over him, taking in the sharp lines of his body, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

When you stepped closer, hands touching his hips now, dragging him towards you, his fingers found your hair, tangling in it as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and deep, pouring everything he couldn’t say into that kiss.

"Jesus," he whispered against your lips, eyes closing as he tried to breath through his excitement, "You're drivin' me crazy.”

You just let out soft little laugh that made his stomach flip, your fingers mapping over his jaw, keeping him close. His whole body was buzzing with need, his skin burning wherever you touched him, but there was something else in the way you were looking at him—a kind of trust that he wasn’t sure he deserved but fuck if he wasn’t going to do everything to live up to it.

His hands skimmed back down to your hips, your bare skin against his, and for a second, he couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe right. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of you, trying to calm his racing heart.

“You know I’ll take care of you,” he promised, "I want this to be good for you— I’ve always wanted this to be good for you."

You tilted his face down, your lips brushing against his “It already is, Rafe. Just...just be with me."

That was all he needed.

Rafe’s hands touched all over you like he was trying to memorize every part of you, like he couldn’t believe you were letting him have this.

He kissed you, slow but needy, his tongue slipping into your mouth, and the way you responded made his entire body shake. His hands ended up back in your waist, thumb brushing the skin, lifting you just a little and guiding you to the bed, where you both sank into the mattress together.

His weight settled over you, your bodies fitting together in this perfect way that made his head spin. He leaned down, kissing your neck, your collarbone, every inch of skin he could reach.

Your breath came in short gasps, your hands gripping his shoulders as he kissed his way down your body, and Rafe swore he could die.

“You’re everything,” he whispered against your skin, voice hoarse with emotion. "You don't even know... how long I've wanted this. How much I want you."

His fingers moved down, brushing the inside of your thigh. He hesitated for a moment, eyes searching yours, needing that confirmation one more time. You nodded, biting your lip.

His fingers slid between your thighs, slow at first, the warmth of your skin making him shudder. He exhaled sharply, opening you up to him, feeling how ready you were, and it nearly drove him insane. His fingers moved carefully, testing the waters, the softest groan escaping his lips as he found that sensitive spot.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered, like he couldn’t believe the way you felt under his touch.

Your breath caught, hips shifting toward him, a soft moan breaking loose as his fingers pressed against you. The sound of your voice, the way your body responded to him—it drove him wild. He wanted to make sure you felt good.

Two of his fingers slipped inside, careful, tentative at first. He watched your face, making sure you were okay, his other hand resting on your hip, steadying you as they curled slightly, finding a rhythm that made your body arch into him.

“Rafe…” you breathed out, your voice wobbly, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation overwhelmed you.

He worked a little faster now, getting even harder as he felt you tighten around him. “Like that, baby?”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip to stifle another moan, your hands latching on his shoulders as your body quivered under his touch. He groaned softly, his lips finding your neck, licking and sucking at the soft skin there as his fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements. 

Your body curved toward him, every nerve ending tingling as his fingers moved deeper, curling just right. He swallowed hard, his lips brushing against your ear, "Is this okay?"

Your heart thumped against your rib cage, every movement of his fingers making you gasp softly. You managed to give him a small nod, barely able to find your voice. "Yeah, Rafe... it's perfect."

His breath came out a little less unrestrained, clearly relieved, and he continued, the pace slow, testing. The uncertainty in his touch was endearing, but you wanted more—you needed more.

“Baby,” you murmured softly, biting your lip as a rush of heat stretched through you, “Maybe… one more?”

He froze for a moment, his voice coming out in a ragged gasp as he looked at you. “Are you sure?”

Your heart swelled at his concern, and you gave him a reassuring smile. "I’m sure. Just take it slow."

Carefully, he pulled back just a little, his fingers slipping out before he added a third finger. His brow furrowed in concentration, his eyes flicking up to yours, watching your face for any sign of discomfort.

The sensation was different, intense, but not too overwhelming. You let out a soft moan, your body adjusting to the new pressure as he filled you more.

“Does it—does it feel good?” Rafe asked, his face inches from yours, vulnerable.

“Yes,” you breathed out, “It feels amazing.”

His lips parted, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He let out a soft laugh, almost as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “I was worried I’d mess it up.”

You shook your head, pulling him closer, your hand twisting in his hair. “You're doing great.”

He exhaled slowly, his body relaxing a little as he found a rhythm again. His fingers moved more confidently now, more certain, his jaw falling slack as he watched you react to him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Rafe muttered, eyes glued to your face. “You feel that? You’re taking me so well.”

You whined at how deep his voice sounded, your body buzzing as his fingers worked in deeper, the pressure mounting with every movement. Your mind filled with nothing but the feeling of him inside you.

“God, yes,” you breathed out, the pleasure building to a point where it felt like you might break apart.

Rafe's pace quickened, as he pressed his fingers harder, deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over again. 

"Come on, baby," he practically begged you, voice hoarse. Your breath came out in short, shallow gasps as you felt yourself creeping toward the edge, every movement of his hand bringing you closer. His name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as the tension snapped, your body shuddering as the pleasure washed over you.

His eyes widened in awe, his fingers slowing as he watched you like he couldn’t believe what he’d just made happen. He groaned softly, feeling you pulse around him, "You did so good," he murmured, lips brushing against your temple. "So perfect."

You felt a shiver run down your entire being as his hands glided up your thighs, spreading them gently as he settled himself between them. He was shaking a little, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes—the nervousness that came with doing something for the first time, not wanting to mess it up.

But when he leaned down, kissing you slow and deep, all the apprehend melted away. He couldn’t help but take in every detail—the way your lips parted as you breathed him in. He felt like he was drowning, but in the best way possible.

“I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

You looked up at him, your own breath uneven, eyes wide and the way you saw through him—it was like you were giving him the world. His hand was still shaking slightly as he reached down, lining himself up with you, taking his time, not rushing even though every fiber of his being screamed to.

"I wanna make this good for you," he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. "I don’t wanna hurt you." 

There was a hesitation, a vulnerability that he only showed in moments like this. His focus was entirely on you, on making sure you felt nothing but pleasure. You gave him a small, reassuring nod, your hand finding his, fingers slipping through his, squeezing. "I trust you.”

He exhaled slowly, nodding to himself as he eased into you, inch by inch, watching your face the entire time, making sure you were still doing okay.

The sensation overwhelmed him, the warmth of your body, the way you welcomed him so completely. He groaned, low and deep, knowing he could do this for the rest of his life. You were so fucking warm.

"Fuckkk," he moaned, "You feel so fuckin' good, darlin'."

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his forehead pressing against yours as he sank deeper, the feeling of being inside you nearly sending him over the edge. He wanted to take it slow, to savor every moment, but the way you clenched around him, the way you whispered his name like it was the only word you knew—it made it impossible.

Your eyes fluttered closed, lashes brushing against flushed cheeks, lips parting in a soft gasp that made his heart skip a beat. His hips moved on instinct, slow at first, testing, his breath coming out in shallow pants as he tried to hold back. "Tell me if it’s too much," he managed to say, his voice strained.

“It’s p-perfect.”

His hips snapped forward, the movement more sure, more confident as he lost himself in the moment. A low groan escaping his lips as he buried himself deeper, his hands gripping your hips as he moved faster, harder, the need to be closer to you taking over.

You mewled pathetically at this point, nails digging into every bit of skin you could get your hands on, body arching beneath him as he hit that perfect spot over and over again. It wasn’t fair that he was a natural.

The way you responded to him, the sounds you made—it had to be the best day of his life.

“Touch me.”

He cupped your tit, thumb brushing over the hardened peak with a gentle touch that contrasted the desperate way his hips moved against you.

His eyes never left your face, watching every flicker of emotion as his hands explored you. "Like this?" he murmured, his thumb circling again as his hips moved deeper. The way your body reacted—sucking him in like a goddamn vice—it nearly undid him.

“Mmhp—Fuck. J—Just like that.”

He leaned down, like a man possessed, lips brushing the soft skin of your tit, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, sending a shiver up your spine. His mouth found the hardened peak, lips wrapping around it with a low groan, and his tongue flicked over it slowly, teasingly. You gasped, your hands entangling in his hair, holding him there as he sucked harder, his teeth grazing just enough to make you whimper.

He hummed in satisfaction, feeling the way your body responded to him. His tongue circled slowly, drawing out every sound you made, savoring each gasp, each moan as he lavished attention on your body. 

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, voice muffled against your skin as he switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his lips trailing over your heated flesh. “You taste so good.”

You couldn’t help the way your body responded, pressing up against him, your hips rolling to meet his. The dual sensation of his mouth on you and the deep, steady thrusts left you tingling all over, beneath him, completely dazed by the pleasure he was giving you.

“Rafe—" you huffed, the word barely more than a breath as your grip tightened in his hair, pulling him closer. His mouth latched on harder, sucking with a fervor that left you breathless.

He pulled back just slightly, lips wet and swollen as he looked up at you,“I could do this all night,” he whispered, “You like that, baby? You like how I’m making you feel?”

He didn’t know where these surges of confidence kept coming from, but he never felt so relieved. It felt like his body knew exactly what to do when it came to yours.

His hand skidded between your legs once more, fingers finding your swollen, sensitive clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that matched the rhythm of his hips and mouth. You could barely think straight, couldn’t form a coherent thought.

When his lips finally crashed back into yours, the taste of him overpowered every sense as his hands pulled your hips tighter. His kiss was messy, all spit and need, like he couldn’t get enough of you—like he needed to feel you, taste you, breathe you in all at once. His tongue slid past your parted lips, slow and teasing at first, then deeper, as if he was trying to consume you whole.

He groaned into the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before tugging on it softly, then harder as he swallowed the sound of your whines.

When he broke the kiss, it was only to press wet, fevered kisses down your jawline, to your neck, leaving a trail of spit and heat in his wake.

“I love you,” he muttered against your skin, his lips latching onto your collarbone, sucking on the sensitive spot just below your ear, biting gently, “So fuckin’ much.”

“I love you,” You breathed out between kisses, his hands gripping the flesh of your ass and pulling you flush against him, the hard line of his body pressing against yours in a way that made you gasp, “Never g-gonna s-stop,” you whispered back, the taste of him lingering on your tongue as he kissed you harder, rougher, swallowing every sound you made.

"Fuck, I’m close," he gasped, his forehead resting against yours as he fought to hold back, to make this last, but you could feel him losing control, feel the tension coiling tight in his body. His hips moved with a relentless, desperate need, his breath broken and uneven.

“Rafe—” you nearly cried, your body shaking beneath him. Every thrust, every touch, every breath was pushing you closer to the edge, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Let go for me, baby,” he encouraged you, two fingers still rubbing teasing circles over your sensitive clit, “Come for me.”

Your body tightened around him as you came undone with a cry of his name. Rafe groaned as he felt you clench around him, fluttering so perfectly.

His release was not far behind as he thrust into you one last time, before pulling out with a strangled moan, his body shuddering as he came all over your tummy, his head falling to your shoulder.

Rafe stayed there for a while, catching his breath, his body still shaking like a leaf as the tremors of pleasure coursed through him.

Taking his time, he lifted his head, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips. "I love you," he said it again, as he gazed down at you, his thumb brushing tenderly over your flushed cheek. "So damn much."

You never looked so heartbreakingly beautiful. Like a fucking painting.

You grinned from ear to ear, your heart swelling with affection as you held his face in your hands, pulling him for another kiss. "I love you too," you murmured against his lips, your fingers threading through his hair, "Always."

Rafe’s lips curved into a smile against yours, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered. You were his, and he was yours—completely, utterly, and without question

[badomensgoodomens]

Can I request for noah. Reader and him are in a friend group and they're always flirty and tactile but won't admit their feelings? I love a slow burn. Will they won't they? 👀😊

Noah Sebastian x Reader (fluff)

-----------------------------------------------------------

Thank you so much for the request!!

slowburns are kind of difficult for me, as i have the attention span of a rock and im a busy gyal.

its not exactly long but im hoping 1.3k words will suffice!!!

i hope this is good enough!!

_______________________________________________

Noah was genuinely one of your closest friend, ontop of the other band members. 

You guys did alot of things together, errands, shopping sprees, markets, arts, crafts and even simple work stuff. That was just the nature of your friendship. 

Joakim and Nicholas caught on during a house party, you had gotten soooo drunk you were dancing on the island, noah had his arms around your knees so you wouldn’t fall. They exchanged glances, and immediately burst out laughing. It was honestly no secret the way he looked at you, but you were occupied with hobbies and interests. 

One particular night you were setting up for a house party, it was the middle of summer. Clad in swimsuits and skanky coverups, you stood on the island, hanging some streamers from the pendant lights. Noah laughs, thinking back to that night. You raise your eyebrow at him, he shakes his head, chuckling. You finish and waddle to the edge of the island. “Help..?” you ask, he laughs, heading over to grab you around your knees to help you down. 

He relishes in the warmth of your tan skin in your bikini, gently patting your shoulder as he sets you down. You stare back up at him, grinning. “Whats that look for?” he asks, crossing his arms. “You're a human elevator.” 

Fast forward maybe a few hours, youre a light weight, thats no secret. Youre a giggling mess as you walk through the house onto the porch. Theres a slight breeze as you sit down on the bench swing, you take in the night sky, the pretty purple undertones stretch over the coastal side, reflecting off the beach. The porch door clicks open, the loud music and strobe lights filtering through the crack in the door. 

“You good?” noah asks, strobe lights reflecting off his forehead. You giggle, nodding. He walks along the creaky wooden porch to sit next to you. “The sky is so beautiful.” you murmur, he hums in agreement, but hes staring at you. You turn to look at him, a soft smile on your face. “Take a picture itll last longer” you grin, he laughs and nudges you. “I’d run out of storage.” he snickers. “That doesn’t even make sense!!!!” you laugh. He chuckles, throwing his arm around you. 

“You wanna play water volleyball?” Matt yells over the fence, you practically jump out of your skin, “u-uh! Yeah sure!” you stammer, standing up and adjusting your bikini. Noah clears his throat awkwardly and walks down the porch stairs to the gate, you in tow. You do the walk of shame through the gate together, folio and nicholas snicker. 

Noah just straight up jumps in the pool, you teeter on the edge. The boys start to play, matts girlfriend even coming to join. You sit on the edge, dipping your feet in. the slight breeze littering goosebumps over my skin. 

“Cmon!! Come play!!” joakim pokes you, splashing you. You yelp as some random party-goer pushes you in from behind. The cold pool water wakes you up, you weren’t THAT comfortable of a swimmer, and this BRAT just ruined our hair. Joakim helps you upright as noah starts yelling at the party goer. Your makeup is running a little bit, your perfect curls now sopping wet. Joakim helps you sit on the edge of the pool, you readjust your bikini and just can’t help but laugh. Noah walks over to you, stupid bitch can actually stand in this fuckass pool because he is soooooo tall. “Are you okay?” he says, resting his hands on your knees. Your heart beats a little faster.  He gently wipes the mascara from under your eyes. Your heart beats dramatically. “U-uhm, i’m okay.” you stammer out,a little freaked out at noahs affectionate nature. “Are you cold?” he asks, running his hands up and down your arms. You nod, a little unsure of what to do. He gently helps you off the ledge and carries you across the pool. You walk to the upstairs bathroom, he wraps you up in a towel, setting you on the edge of the bathtub. You sigh, night totally ruined. 

He gently wipes your running makeup off with some makeup wipes as you pout and shake from the cold. The bathroom door clicks open, Nicholas sticks his head through. “I’m kicking them all out.” he states, before leaving again. “Its not that big of a deal-” you start. Noah cuts you off. “No- i wanted to wrap it up anyways. Im tired. Youre tired. We are all tired.” 

You quickly got changed into a pair of sweatpants, brushing through your wet hair. The house has been cleared out by now, the boys getting to work to clean up all the bottles. Matt’s girlfriend, Heidi, comes into your room. “He was a totalllll dick!” she exclaims, sitting down on your bed. You two gossip. “And noah was soooo cute to come rescue you!!! You should totally go for him.” “i don’t know.. Hes a bit out of my league-” before you can even finish, Folio bursts through the door. “HAH! I knew you liked him!!! You two-” “SSHHSshshshshs” you panic, shutting the door. Folio begins to go on a tangent about allll the reasons he believes you should go for him. Heidi backs him up.

You feel a little cornered as they spout off reasons on why noah likes you, using the incident that occurred before as an example.”he was overreacting!!!!!!!!” you shout. You bicker back and forth until somebody bangs on the door. You unlock the door with a huff, greeted by a confused looking noah. 

“What the fuck are you lot yelling about?” he asks, pushing the door open more. “Doesn’t matter-” “okay… we are gonna watch a movie on the couch, come join, bring blankets.” heidi and folio filter out as you grab a big blanket and a pillow. 

All 7 of us lounge on the big white couch, a random comedy playing on the screen, you lay with your head on a pillow. Youre about five seconds away from falling asleep when you feel noahs big ass fingers combing through your half dry hair. You settle quickly. Off to dream land. 

—----------------------------------------------

You wake up later on, 2am perhaps. The boys are softly chatting. You try to tune in to hear their conversation. 

“Dude- its so obvious just go for it.”

“Nah.. man.. I don’t wanna ruin anything.” 

You fall back asleep.

—-------------------------------------------------------

Everybody wakes up hungover and cranky, a common theme in this household. 

You groan, hiding your face under the blanket from the blinds you forgot to close. “I’m ordering coffee, who wants some?” heidi says, laying on matts chest. 

Noah continues running his hands through your hair, he bends down, whispering. “Can we talk later?” you nod, immediately becoming anxious. 

You anxiously drink your ice coffee, awaiting the conversation. 

About an hour later he comes and gets you, leading you to the porch swing. The sun beams down on your legs as you sit. An ocean breeze filtering throughout the coastal beachside. 

You turn to look at him, he looks… nervous. 

“So i uh…” he clears his throat. 

“Look, if i’m out of line we can just pretend this never happened-”

“Noah.” you cut him off, feeling too anxious to put up with his rambling. 

“Sorry- sorry. I just.. Look. i know we have a pretty flirty friendship- and- and i don’t want to make assumptions but i love you.” 

Time seems to stop, and your jaw completely drops. Your heart beats out of your chest. 

No.

No. surely hes joking. 

He looks panicked, his mouth is moving, i don’t hear anything. My ears are ringing. 

“You love.. Me?” you stammer out.

He nods frantically, still panicked. His hands cup your cheeks. 

“Please. Tell me you love me. Im sick of pretending.” he chokes out, his eyes wide, staring down at you. 

You nod, not able to form words. He hugs you tightly. You almost feel like crying. 

“I love you noah.” 

“I TOLD YOU-!!!!” Folio yells.

__________________________________________________________

if you havent already noticed, i dont do chapter books to avoid burn out!! but im hoping on being able to do this level of writing frequently.

im also trying to write more formally or more detailed as im so used to short, unserious stories.

please keep challenging me with requests!!!!

(i also don't edit lol)

[anniebeemine]

hi!!!!! I’ve loved all your Spencer Reid fics, I have been eating them up like a starved lion. That being said I have a request if that’s alright!!

Little self indulgent, but maybe Spencer with a reader who’s just been feeling like just so crazy like emotionally. Just having a lot of overthinking and having a lot of crying fits?? Hopefully that makes sense, but some nice comfort would be peak, thank you sm!!! 🩵🩵🩵

I'm so glad that you've been enjoying my work <3 I'd love to write a little something for you

The house was quiet, but inside your mind, everything felt overwhelming. You sat on the edge of the bed, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess, spiraling into one of those emotional storms that you just couldn’t seem to escape lately. Tears slipped down your cheeks, and as much as you tried to hold it together, the lump in your throat made breathing feel like a battle.

You didn’t hear Spencer come in, but suddenly there he was—standing in the doorway, his brows knitted together in concern as he watched you, clearly sensing something was wrong. His soft, familiar voice broke through your haze.

“Hey…” He crossed the room quietly, careful not to startle you. “What’s going on?”

You shook your head, struggling to form a coherent sentence. It felt impossible to explain why you felt like this—why everything was so heavy. "I don't know," you finally managed to whisper, your voice cracking. "I just feel...crazy. Everything feels too much. And I keep overthinking everything, and I can’t stop crying. It doesn’t even make sense."

Without another word, Spencer sat beside you, his hand resting gently on your back. He didn’t try to fix it. He didn’t tell you to stop crying or try to solve your problems. He just sat there, his presence grounding you, letting you know that you didn’t have to go through this alone.

After a few moments of quiet, he spoke, his voice steady and reassuring. “You’re not crazy. You’re going through a lot, and sometimes it’s hard to make sense of it all. But whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay. You don’t have to have all the answers, and you don’t have to go through this by yourself.”

His words were like a balm to the raw edges of your emotions. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as another wave of tears came, but this time they felt a little less overwhelming. Spencer wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you let it out, his steady heartbeat calming the storm inside of you.

“You’re not alone,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I’m right here.”

You stayed like that for what felt like forever, his arms a safe haven from the weight of your own mind. Slowly, the sobs quieted, replaced by the steady rhythm of your breathing syncing with his.

When you finally pulled back, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, wiping away the stray tears with his thumb. “You’re doing your best, and that’s enough. I’m proud of you for hanging on, even when it feels impossible.”

A soft smile tugged at your lips despite everything. “Thank you… for just being here.”

“Always,” he said, his voice filled with the kind of love and sincerity that made you feel a little bit lighter. “Whenever it feels like too much, remember you don’t have to carry it by yourself. I’m always here for you.”

And for the first time in a while, you believed him.

You leaned back into his embrace, burying your face in his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you again. The warmth of his body and the steady rise and fall of his breath were comforting, anchoring you in the moment. As you relaxed into him, the words you’d been holding inside tumbled out in a quiet, shaky mumble.

Spencer’s hand gently rubbed soothing circles on your back, his voice calm and reassuring in your ear. You nodded against him, his words sinking in as the tension in your body slowly eased. Speaking the thoughts that had been rattling around in your head out loud, even if they didn’t make perfect sense, helped loosen their grip on you. And Spencer, as always, listened without judgment, giving you the space to feel everything without pressure. His words felt like a lifeline, pulling you out of the swirling thoughts just enough for you to breathe a little easier. You stayed in his arms, the two of you wrapped in a quiet understanding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight in your chest started to lift.

[peachandpinwheel]

honestly kind of frustrating how many takes I've seen unable to understand why Day reacted the way he did. he's been through an incredibly traumatic year and the person who he has relied on to be his happiness, a person he has (unfortunately) idolised and placed on a pedestal, suddenly viscerally showed himself to be flawed, to be just as damaged and in need of help.

is what happened right? no! is it fair on Mhok? no! that's the point! honestly it doesn't matter if he did it because he was hurt or if he did it because he wanted to 'free' Mhok. a healthy relationship is one where both people communicate and support the other, but there's no universe where Day was in a place where he could suddenly turn around and be the supportive partner Mhok needs when he has just barely pulled himself out of the depression void twice in a row, and when Mhok had never communicated that need to Day before.

that's the point Mhon was making. neither of these people were existing in the real world together, they were in a bubble. they were Me, frozen in stone in a happy memory, and the second the outside world and its complicated realities intruded they crumbled. because that's what so often happens when two mentally ill, traumatised people get together without dealing with their problems.

[clowningaroundmars]

my personal atsv hobie brown hc is that this boy can build a watch that enables the wearer to travel to any dimension they want to, made entirely out of cobbled up parts he "finds"

but anytime anyone brings up AI or algorithms or social media he pretends to be 100 years old

hobie: what's a bloody "snapchat"? fuckin 'ell those effects are nightmarish, mate

miles, exasperated: hobie, you BUILD TECH that astrophysicists in my dimension can't even replicate. how are filters on a phone trippin you up?

hobie: dunno, everyone's got their strengths n weaknesses, i 'spose... 🙄😒

[the-ginger-avenger]

My main gripe about how Ted Lasso handled Jamie and James’s relationship in the second and third season is that, in a way, it contradicts Jamie’s arc from the first season. And I LOVE Jamie’s arc from the first season. I love how sweet Jamie became later in the show, but if I have to pick a Jamie, it would be season one Jamie, hands down. Even with him being an egotistical jerk. Even with him pushing back against everyone who tried to help him. Because that progression he had from the beginning to the end of that season was the most heartfelt, emotionally gut-punching arc for me. And then they ruin it.

Because what is Jamie thanking James for in Mom City? For pushing him to be a better player? Even if you ignore Jamie literally saying in the bonfire episode that his mother is the reason he works so hard, the whole point of his arc in season one was that, while he was a good player, he wasn’t as good as he could be BECAUSE HE WAS THE PLAYER HIS FATHER PUSHED HIM TO BE. Listening to his father, making it all about HIM, acting like he was the only good player on the team, was actually holding him back.  And even in the second season, when Jamie talks to Ted about how James keeps pushing him, it’s about the wrong things: how long he plays, how long he sits on the bench, how many times he scores. Every single thing that goes against what Ted was trying to teach Jamie in the first season. So what is he thanking James for? Why did they have Ted go from trying to get Jamie to stop acting the way James wanted him to act, to telling Jamie that a lot of famous people’s dads were “real pieces of work” as if that was the reason they ended up working so hard or became great (can you imagine if, instead of telling Rebecca that she’s not the only one who could see who Rupert actually was, Ted told her that a lot of strong, independent woman had ex-husbands who were “real pieces of work”? It’s infuriatingly dismissive)? And if he’s thanking James for pushing him to be a better player, then he’s thanking James for pushing him to be the player he was in the first season, which they spent at least eight episodes trying to get Jamie to not be that way??

And I honestly don’t think the writers really knew why he was thanking James. You can compare Jamie’s speech in Mom City with Ted’s speech to his mom. Ted clearly lists out what he’s thanking his mother for and what he’s angry with her about. Which works out great because the audience has never met Dottie before. The show only gave bits and pieces about what she was like, or what her relationship with Ted was like, so they had Ted clearly state why so the audience could understand better.

But not Jamie. He doesn’t have to state why he’s angry with his father because the show went to great lengths to show why. Nothing good or redeeming was mentioned about James once in the entire show. That character had maybe a grand total of ten minutes screen time, during which he threw a shoe at his son, screamed at him, got angry when his son wouldn’t let him and his buddies on the pitch, acted like he was going to hit Jamie, and BEAT UP BEARD. So, no, Jamie didn’t have to explain why he was angry. But then he says “thank you” and doesn’t offer any explanation. The show didn’t even give the audience any reason why Jamie should be thanking his dad. Unless, it’s somehow for pushing him. Which again, goes against his arc in the first season, and, in way, makes that whole scene feel like it was put in there solely for Ted’s benefit.

And they could have developed Jamie and James’s relationship more in the third season. Heck, they could have humanized James more, the same why they did with Rupert (who the show actually kept as a villain, who Rebecca let go of her anger towards but was never told to start a relationship with him again. Honestly, the parallels between Rebecca and Jamie’s characters and yet how differently the show handled their arcs makes me go insane but that’s a rant for some other day), but they chose not to which is honestly baffling considering how much screen time Jamie had in the third season. Nothing about his arc should have felt rushed or tossed in at the last minute.

And it’s so opposite from the end of his arc in the first season that it’s like watching two different shows? Because that season one finale? That pass he made at the end of the game? That decision to not listen to his father? That carried so much more weight and so much more character development than that half-baked forgiveness arc.

Because that pass? That was a CHOICE, man. It wasn’t something he did because he was trying to make amends with his teammates. It wasn’t something he did because his current coach was telling him he had to. He passed the ball, he gave up the chance to score the winning goal and the glory that would come from that, even knowing his dad was in the stands, even knowing how angry James would be, because he knew that was the better choice. He knew that made him a better player. (It was also a very strategic move. He knew Zoreaux, and every other player on Richmond, would never even consider that Jamie would pass the ball. You can even see how Zoreaux was fully focused on Jamie. In way, it’s kinda similar to that decoy play Jamie was so against).

And that moment between Jamie and Ted at the end surpasses any other moment they have because it was actually about Jamie, and everything that followed after (except for bringing Jamie back onto the team in season two) felt like it was more for James’s benefit. But that was Ted reaching out to Jamie, giving him that bit of encouragement and praise that his father should have given him. That was Ted, essentially saying “Hey, your dad is wrong. You did a good job." And it’s a very private moment. It’s not in front of cameras or the press or even in front of other players. Ted himself doesn’t even deliver the note. It’s as far from “mind games” as it possibly could be because the season is already over. Richmond has already lost. It’s a “good job, I’m proud of you, now here’s something my son gave me to protect me that I’m now sharing with you”. It’s something short and simple and quiet from someone who is usually very long-winded and convoluted and loud, and it is so much more sincere because of that and you can see how much that impacted Jamie. 

And wouldn’t it have been more impactful, for both Ted’s arc and Jamie’s arc, if Ted hadn’t told Jamie to forgive James? If Ted had been able to heal enough to take a step back and look at the situation without it getting tangled up in his own trauma and guilt over what happened to his dad? Wouldn't it have been deeper for Ted, who later would learn that yeah, his son might end up leaving him but he still has to try, to have actually seen a situation where a son chooses to not reach out to his father? Wouldn't it have been more profound for Jamie to no longer let his actions be dictated by his anger or his feelings towards his father. He's no longer angry, but he's also no longer striving for his father's approval either. He no longer cares if his father thinks he's weak or not  (kind of like how Rebecca stopped letting her anger and hurt over Rupert control how she reacted, and yet didn't have to start a relationship with him? But again, they paralleled each other and yet they took them in completely different directions). They could have had a moment that had the same amount of emotional weight as that scene in the last season, but no. Apparently we should just forget everything that happened in the first season because James was actually doing his son a favor the entire time.

[spoileralxrt]

This feels like a hot take nowadays, but Jara (Jason Todd/Yara Flor) was the best possible relationship that could’ve come out of the Elseworld’s Teen Titans. Do I think the series as a whole would’ve been better without a romance plot? Yes, of course, but man do I love Jara.

First of all, both of them are dealing with the pressure of carrying on the legacy of two of the original Teen Titans. I see Cara fans saying “oh, but Batgirl is a legacy name, too,” but it’s really not the same. Cass had Barbara in her corner while Jason and Yara didn’t have Dick or Donna in theirs (at least at the start/not in the same way that Cass had Babs.)

Also, despite the fact that the romance plot from #27 to #36 was forced I admit, they had chemistry before that. Almost from the start, before they were really friends or got along that well, they had banter! There was tension! There was already foreshadowing for the relationship that would blossom between the two of them by #5. 

The specific moment of foreshadowing that comes to mind in issue 5 is Roy’s thought boxes on page 26, where Roy compared the two to him and Donna. Most people say this makes no sense, that it would be better to make a comparison between Dick and Donna, I say this was purposeful to hint at how their relationship would develop.

And at the end, Yara was the one who was there for Jason after he killed Condiment King, helping him as he tried to figure out what it meant to have blood on his hands. All the others, especially Roy, turned their back on him without even asking why he did it (which I suppose we should blame the writers for more than the characters, and how rushed the entire ending is).

In conclusion, whether you like the ship or not, the writers were pushing it from the start. If you’re an Elseword’s Teen Titans fan, you can’t ignore it. Stop getting pissy when people enjoy the CANON ship, and stop trying to make a perfectly normal friendship a romantic relationship… but also qpr cara would slap.

[chronic-art]

full moon absolutely destroyed me, have a doodle

[thegalaxyonherlips]

I loved jinkx as maestro. Perfect episode. But what in the actual fuck is Russell T Davies doing with this weird musical number shtick.

[red-gamedev-0w0]

it was a mistake to try and code the logic for your friends dying on you randomly today of all days. like i couldnt have known when i started working on it but. fuck.

[cerealbishh]

"I relate to Bess a lot. I think that she is someone who is super quirky, I'm a very quirky person! Artist really struggles with feeling validationwith her art and they can be incredibly critical of themselves. And I think that Bess is someone that really cares about other people and I think I care a lot about people, too. Her temper is a little quick, for sure. And that was something that was exciting to play because normally, I try not to make anybody uncomfortable. So I think that was fun, to be a little more sharp and and to find that!" - Brittany on Bess(x)

[thebroccolination]

Oh my goddess...Singto is back in gmmtv...!!!!!!

HE SURE IS, ANON!!!

THE HANDSOMEST MAN IN GMMTV HAS RETURNED TO HIS THRONE!

I HAVE A LOT TO SAY LET'S BEGIN.

FIRST: I'M SO HAPPY. ;____;

I CASUALLY OPENED INSTAGRAM WHEN I WOKE UP A FEW HOURS AGO, LOOKED AT KRIST'S AND BOUN'S STORIES AS USUAL, AND THEN SINGTO'S KICKED ME IN THE SOUL AND IT HAS YET TO COME BACK TO ME.

AND LIKE.

OKAY.

HANG ON!!!

I NEED THE SONG OF MY PEOPLE!!!

OKAY.

BETTER.

NOW!!!

There have been signs for months, especially from Kit, that they'll have a series this year, but I didn't expect Singto to fully come back to GMMTV! So I'm in a daze of pure joy. The SHEER NUMBER of times my friends and I have been like, "SINGTO JUST COME BACK AND WE'LL PRETEND YOU NEVER LEFT," so now I fully plan on doing so.

Singto left? When?

Never, that's when.

LIKE.

LET ME WALK YOU THROUGH JUST A FEW OF MY POSTS ON MY DISCORD SERVER FROM THE PAST FEW MONTHS SO YOU CAN ENJOY THE JOURNEY WITH ME:

Some days, I'd just go through old photos and reminisce.

Other days, I'd have feelings.

And make academic observations of past occurrences.

I HAVE BEEN ASKING FOR SOTUS 3 SINCE 2020 I DESERVE THIS

AND PERAYA WHO HAVE BEEN HERE SINCE 2017 AND BEFORE HAVE BEEN ASKING FOR IT EVEN LONGER

BUT I'M GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF

THEN THEY HUNG OUT IN EARLY JANUARY (WITH GAWIN!!! BECAUSE FUCK ALL THE MISERABLE PEOPLE IN THIS FANDOM WHO CAN'T LET ANYONE ENJOY MORE THAN ONE THING AND GENUINELY RUIN THE EXPERIENCE FOR OTHERS!!!)

AND THEY TRENDED BASED ON THAT ONE HANGOUT SESH

THERE WERE FURTHER SIGNS!!!

THEN KRIST AND SINGTO ACTUALLY INTERACTED ON TWITTER, WHICH HADN'T HAPPENED IN, I SHIT YOU NOT, ALMOST FOUR YEARS

OH AND SPEAKING OF THEM INTERACTING ON TWITTER

WE ARE FED

AND EVEN WILDER, SINGTO IS NOW UNDER KRIST'S MANAGER, YUI

For those who don't know, this is massive because as long as they've been with GMMTV, Krist and Singto always had separate managers. Krist with Yui, Singto with Jane (who has had cameos in some of Singto's series, maybe most famously the guy at their office cafe in SOTUS S).

I've heard TayNew also went under one manager recently, so I think it was likely a condition of Singto's return to GMMTV that he sign under Yui. Which is wild because these managers do what we'd consider in the States to be the work of agents, so they have a major contribution to what happens in their artists' careers.

In my wildest fantasies I never imagined Yui as Singto's manager. I love Jane, but wow.

AND PERHAPS MY FAVORITE THING OF ALL!!!

I HAVE BEEN JOKING ABOUT THIS FOR AGES AND HAVE A #THROUPLE CHANNEL ON MY SERVER BECAUSE I DON'T CARE I LOVE ALL THREE OF THEM

AND THEN KRIST PERAWAT WENT AHEAD AND SAID THIS:

MY SON SAID, "SURE FINE AS LONG AS Y'ALL DON'T KILL EACH OTHER."

KRIST WANTS ALL HIS BOYFRIENDS

NOW, LET'S OPEN SPECULATION FOR WHAT KRISTSINGTO'S COMEBACK SERIES WILL BE

I'M SO HAPPY

I GENUINELY HAVEN'T PROCESSED IT YET

:')

TIME TO WRITE FIC ABOUT IT

[torgawl]

i keep thinking about how “is this what justice means to you, answer me neuvillette”, despite having been used in a case all those hundred of years ago, was probably a question that haunted - and still haunts - neuvilette during the entire time he has been chief of justice. i keep thinking about how they highlighted his struggles through time with both carole and wriothesley's trials. how guilty and powerless neuvillette must have felt for not being able to support and save those he recognised as vulnerable and victims before a system that corrupted their fates but that he wasn't able to change despite his position. the theme of being a casualty of a system no matter if you're the victim or the perpetrator in its eyes. the way neuvillette took, in both cases, things into his own hands. even if it was too late to fix the hurting carole and those who cared for her went through, even if it was too late to save her life; even if it was impossible to change wriothesley's past, his verdict and subsequent imprisonment; neuvillette went above and beyond, making use of his influence, to allow both melusines and wriothesley the opportunity of a better future - to melusines by making sure they weren't discriminated, to wriothesley by supporting his attempt at a second chance in life. i think part of the reason he's so intriguing is our awareness that this internal conflict he's bound to have is so complex. you have a chief of justice, or a judge, that is supposed to be imparcial and follow the law stictly confronted with situations of social injustice, unable to protect those who rely on him. you have someone who understands better than anyone what it means to be an outcast, being able to relate to those who are ostracised and have their pain weaponise against them. you have, in vautrin's case, a friend who cannot even showcase his own pain and is still expected to fullfil his juridical duties despite being personally related with those involved in the case. someone who people constantly turn to but whom he feels like he has no right to turn to himself. it's about the conflict between his feelings and his duty, between what's expected of him and what he can actually do. i think that's why the end of his story quest is so emotional and why it's so heartwarming to have him realise he isn't an outcast anymore, that he has a community there for him too. because a system is a system and he will probably never be able to save everyone, because yes he isn't human, but it doesn't mean he doesn't deserve to belong or that an active demonstration of love towards individuals and people he can relate to rather than the theoretical concept of humanity isn't meaningful. in fact, i'd it's a lot about that, about finding ways to be kind and how community gives meaning to life; how personal relationships and targeted kindness can shape society, or at least i think so

[wayfayrr]

Hi Moss! I love how you write the Lu guys, I keep re-reading the asks and one shots you post <33 The way you write always leave me giggling and kicking my feet

GHOSTTTTTT THANK YOU SO MUCH 😭

this ask has had me sitting and kicking my feet like a little kid omg thank you so much for the kind words :DDD it's literally the reason I keep posting my silly little works and I'm so glad you like them <333

[catman-draws]

So does anyone know what the hell that yellow part is supposed to be